Day 1
First day. Blue sky washed with wee puffy clouds, cool and still. We found a small patisserie near our flat for coffee and croissant (Di). Salad for me. The boulanger takes it from the lunch stock looking curiously – salad? Really?
We’d not walked far when we came upon Sean, actually upon Sean’s dog, Robin, a husky pup, one of nine, all in the neighbourhood. Robin’s dad, Sean, is a movie editor who now teaches editing. Sean had some great tips – one of which was restaurant Le Relais De L’Entrecôte for the best steaks ever. We went there this evening (thank Sean), it was superb.
The restaurants ( chain of three or four) are owned by a family who started then after WWII to show their wines. It’s run entirely by women, the men, our waitress informed us with a smile, had all been sent to the kitchen. All one need do is select how they’d like their meet done and the rest just happens – beef in special sauce, frites and salad – in two serves to ensure it stays hot – superb. Of course it wouldn’t have been the same without a bottle of their family red.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. We wandered to the Jardin de Luxembourg and it was breathtaking. Crunching up the white-brown tree lined gravel path, morning sun filtered green through the leaves. People jogging and tai-chi-ing. Off path small patches of white daisy’s draw your eye across the verdant lawn to these – just awesome – poppies. Oranges, pinks and reds glowing in the cool morning sun. We wandered to the small lake before the Palais de Luxembourg where an old man sailed is model boat.
Up the hill to the pantheon, toward the Latin quarter to the steps at the back of church Saint-Étienne-du-Mont where Owen Wilson’s character waits for the vintage car in “Midnight in Paris”, one of our faves. Wandered down the hill from here across Boulevard St Germain to the river to see Notre Dame, girt by cherry pink cherry blossoms, gorgeous spring growth trees and masses of tourists.
We had lunch at this place in the tourist area back off the river where we once had hot chocolate’s with the boys then headed off in search of Église de Saint Germain des Prés a church of some reknown. On the way, passing some street stalls on St Germain, we were lured in by wafts of gruyere proffered to us by a smiling, happily spoken Jonathan from French/Swiss boarder. He did a great job. We left with about a hundred dollars worth of cheese, pate and sausage, a free steak knife (no kidding) and an even happier Jonathan. It’s great cheese – but we’re not paying for the cheese – it’s the experience (our new mantra), We voiced this to each other frequently as the multi-kiloed sacks of fromage cut grooves in our fingers lugging them back up the hill to Montparnesse.
At Deux Margot’s, one of the many bistro’s Hemmingway apparently frequented, we stopped for a rest and beverage in the early afternoon sun. We met Anna an American lass from Maine Massachusetts who had left his husband for Trump – not literally of course, but due to the massive difference in value sets the support or lack of support for trump, represented. Big call n’est-ce pas.
And so we return to the dinner of which you’ve already heard tell, and then for an evening stroll to the Eiffel tower. Or such was our intent. In fact we got so horribly and happily lost that we walked for an hour pretty much in the wrong direction. For those amongst you asking “what of the tower’s search lights that send a guiding beam to the befuddled traveller?” Great question.