Bonjour Everyone!
This morning when I woke up, I remembered I had just been having a strange dream. In the dream, all of my immediate family was in a room together, and everyone was being critical about President Obama. Sitting to my left, was Wolf Blitzer, all composed in a nice suit, and wearing the usual flat expression. I reminded everyone that Wolf Blitzer from CNN was here, and perhaps we should keep it down about President Obama. Suddenly Wolf (we're on first name basis now, since I dreampt about him) got up, came over and sat down beside me. He began showing me a big book filled with pages of writing. I have no idea what this dream was about. Once I shook myself out of my nightmare,I remembered I was in Paris...and I'm in my favourite place in the world.
When we looked out our windows we were surprised it was cloudy. The forecast yesterday had said 29 degrees. It started sprinkling and we went to a cafe down the street called La Grange. It looked so inviting because there were red tables, with red matching chairs, and anyone who has ever had red in their life, knows what a warm, and welcoming colour red is. We ordered our usual, and while we were sitting there, it started to pour. Soon there was lightening and such a loud clap of thunder right over us, that we thought the cafe might be split in half. The rain was coming down so hard, it was like a waterfall over the sides of the tarp which was above our heads. We had no choice but to sit and watch people scurry by with umbrellas. You can tolerate weather like this in a place like Paris, especially if you know you still have lots of time to embrace yet more of its treasures.
When the rain turned to a light sprinkle, we walked back to our apartment to spread out the map and determine our plan for the day. I looked out the window and saw some unfortunate tourists standing on a corner with shopping bags on their heads and wet maps in their hands. You could tell by their posture, they just couldn't believe it was raining in Paris. You just have to wait it out or at least wait until it's manageable enough to walk in.
When the downpour changed to a light sprinkle, we decided it was now manageable, so we started walking towards Rue De la Descartes which we knew would change to Rue Mouffetard. The reason for this was to to see a bit of the Ernest Hemingway walk of Paris. Unfortunately, the sky turned dark all over again and it had a strange appearance - almost like it was now evening. We knew we had to find refuge right away, and this time it was in a cafe called La Methode on 2, Rue Descartes. Again, we had to wait out another debilitating downpour which took around half an hour.
The first thing that ever attracted me to even reading anything written by Ernest Hemingway, was the following quote he wrote in his book, "A Moveable Feast", which was about his life in Paris in the twenties. "If you are lucky enough to have lived in Paris as a young man, then wherever you go for the rest of your life, it stays with you, for Paris is a Moveable Feast". How true...
We walked to the place where Ernest Hemingway and Hadley Richardson had shared their first apartment in Paris on the 4th floor of Rue Du Cardinal Lemoine at No. 74. In the book, Moveable Feast, Hemingway says this, "All of the sadness of the city suddenly came with the first cold rains of winter and there were no more tops to the high white houses as you walked, but only the wet blackness of the street and the closed doors of the small shops, the herb sellers, the stationary and newspaper shops, the midwife - second class - and the hotel where Verlaine had died where I had a room on the top floor, where I worked".
After our long walk, we decided to stop for lunch at Asie Prestige on Rue Mouffetard for Asian food which included French sounding names like brochette de poulet, crevette, salad thailandaise, and poulet croustillant. (Chicken on a stick, shrimp, a Thai salad, and more chicken in a sauce, and some rice). It was all okay, but why do you want Thai food when you are in Paris?
After our nice lunch, we walked to one of the famous cafes of Paris called La Closerie des Lilas. It is now an extravagant restaurant. I felt a little silly asking to see the place where Ernest Hemingway used to sit to do a lot of his writing. A nice lady in a black suit took me to the place. "Voila Madame". I saw a small gold plaque embedded in the surface of the counter at the bar and the stools all along the counter. I said "Merci Beaucoup!" and walked by the elegant lady in the black suit out the door.
And the last thing we did with regard to Ernest Hemingway was to walk down Rue Notre-Dame Des Champs where he and Hadley had also lived in a shabby apartment at No. 113. Then, it was a carpenter's loft over a working sawmill. Across the street, was a Boulanger-Patissiere called Les Bles d'Ange. If you walked across the street from No. 113, you could go up the stairway and cut through the Patisserie. You could stop to buy a piece of the richest custard flan, and then carry it out to a bench on Boulevard Du Montparnasse at which point you would sit down to enjoy it - which is just what we did.
We walked further to the home of Gertrude Stein at 27 Rue De le Fleurus, near the Luxembourg Gardens. Gertrude had quite an influence on Ernest Hemingway. For over 40 years, her home became a renowned Saturday evening gathering place for expatriate American artists and writers, and others. She gathered an an amazing collection of art from Renoir, Cezanne, Picasso, and Gaughin. She was a mentor and a critic to those who gathered around her, and quite an interesting person if anyone ever wanted to read about her life.
After our little tour, we stopped at a cafe called Bread & Roses on 7, rue de Fleurus for rosé wine, and to discuss everything that we had seen.
Getting tired by now, we took a shortcut through the Jardin du Luxembourg (Luxembourg Gardens), past Luxembourg Palace (I know...can you imagine taking a short cut past a Palace?) Actually this Palace really isn't a Palace anymore - it now houses the French Senate.
I should mention that by this time, the heat was stifling, and it had become quite humid. We sat down on a bench to cool off a bit, and a young woman walked by pushing a stroller. Her T-shirt sparkled with the words, "Believe, Forgive, Love, Unite".
After seeing this inspirational message, I confided to Ron a few things that were troubling me. He responded in his usual problem-solving manner. "Oh it's all right, don't you think?" I replied that I guessed it was if you took the Ron Parker way of looking at life. "What do you mean?", he said, to which I responded, "Never go below half an inch from the surface." Ron replied, "That's right! The SHALLOW shall survive!" You know, I thought to myself - it might be true!
After an inspiring rest on the bench, we decided to drop by the Pantheon on the way to the apartment. It was interesting if you feel like seeing the tombs of lots of famous people including Marie Currie, Victor Hugo, Emile Zola, Voltaire - and the Schcelchers whoever they are.
After the Pantheon, we came back to our apartment for a break. Ron crashed for awhile. I think he's feeling tired of navigating these days. Yesterday, when I turned the wrong way to go somewhere, he told me (in a kind way) that my sense of direction was "Hideous!" No wonder I have a complex about my map reading skills.
After Ron woke up and was re-oriented, we walked to Cafe Le Petit Cluny on Blvd. St. Michel. We tried the French onion soup and after strolled in the cool evening air past Eglise Saint-Severin (Church of Saint-Severin). The sky was dark again with gray clouds. It started to drizzle, but we popped open our umbrellas and reminded ourselves of where we were....
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