Day 39 – Poutine

Another wonderful day of wandering, to the Tuilleries today for a Sunday stroll. Plenty of people out and about; joggers (heaps of joggers), cyclists, roller bladers, scooterists, segui-ers, walkers and people just enjoying the sun.

In the Tuilleries, sellers lay out their beanies, scarves, die-cast Eiffel towers and selfy sticks for sale. There’s dogs on leads everywhere. One gets away and we watch as the owner runs around a little lake to catch it.

At the end of the tree lined central boulevard, a large group congregates – ‘Pokemon Go!’ lives on.

We sit for awhile soaking up the sun before heading off for a bite to eat.

On the Pont des Arts, a saxophonists bashes outs some tunes as a clown poses to take photos with people.

We stop to look at some of the second hand bookseller stalls and artists works along the river and end up buying some little water colours of Paris scenes.

The Canada bar is open for lunch and we duck in for a little warmth in the cool of the afternoon and some much needed sustenance. The waiter is from Kosovo, a lovely bloke and, bizarrely, we get to use the word ‘faleminderit’ (thank you in Albanian – as per the waiter at the Halm in Lake Constance), once again.

Across the road a man and a woman assist a very elderly couple enter what looks like a private studio. They help the lady into a seat in front of the works, the man next to her, close, one hand on her shoulder, one on his stick, and we watch as they start an animated discussion about the photographs on the wall.

We see them laugh and, we imagine, cry as they remember old times, old places in the city. His creaky, rounded-over old back and her gnarled hands and blank gaze softening and coming back to life for a moment as they imagine their younger selves and remember.

Later, we ask them, the photo exhibition is called “families”.

We wander back down some of the old cobbled roads on the left bank across from Ile de Cite (Rue Saint-Andre des Artes). It’s very touristy but the old stone and wonderful shops and restaurants make it worthwhile anyway. We stop at the little pen, paper and leather goods shop in that little gorgeous little laneway that takes you through to Saint Germain Boulevard, check out a few other little places then head to Ile de Cite for a stop and a coffee.

The waiter at the cafe where we stop isn’t very attentive and while we sit three couples come and go in disgust. Sipping hot chocolates, we watch a lady park-by-feel in a no parking zone (that’s her car above), actually backing into the Audi behind her. It’s not till she gets out and sees her rear bumper staving the plastic in on the Audi, that she moves the car forward – about an inch, flicks her hair (both sides), and struts off.

At the Canadian bar we’d enjoyed good stick-to-your-ribs warm up food, French-Canadian Poutine; fries, melted cheese and gravy and aren’t too hungry for dinner. Domestic duties and bed. A great day.