We are on a train from Paris to Aix-Les Bains. This train is full of dragon boat paddlers!

Yesterday, for our last day in Paris, I wanted to get out of our immediate neighborhood. Mary suggested that we walk to a nearby area that had a large park, including possibly a petting zoo. But I wanted to go further. I wanted to take the Metro. I wanted to go to the Left Bank, which I remembered fondly from when I was last in Paris, 41 years ago.

Mary agreed, but was dubious and did not enjoy all the walking and up and down stairs to get to the Metro. I loved the whole thing – I love riding subways when they are not crowded. When we emerged at our stop, Chatalet, we were in a square with tons of shops and places to eat. We went into a boulangerie, where I got a quiche and Mary got a chocolate eclair. Then we set off for our destination, Shakespeare and Company bookstore, which I had picked because my fond memory was of stopping at a used book stall along the Left Bank, and picking up the first book in English that I saw, which was a novel by William Trevor, who became one of my favorite writers. (I also bought Kramer vs Kramer in French and managed to read the first page and a half.)

Not surprisingly, everything was different from what I remembered. We crossed the Seine and I wandered among the booths selling art and old books. It all felt very tourist trappy. We also happened upon a lovely park, and Notre Dame, which was beautiful, with lines of people snaked along the courtyard. We took a few pictures and moved on. We passed a Catholic Church which we went inside. It was not at all crowded and was beautiful. Mary wanted to light a candle for her mother, but unfortunately, we had no cash because I had not yet been able to locate an ATM. Mary was getting tired and we had walked quite a bit, following my phone GPS, which has been far from accurate here. Also, I was getting increasingly cranky, though I wasn’t aware of it. At some point I realized we were heading in the wrong direction and we had passed the street that Shakespeare and Co was on long ago. We turned around, got to the street the bookstore was on and immediately recognized it by the long line of people waiting to get in. Silly me thought no one would be there because no one reads anymore.

The line of people made me crankier, still, and I didn’t want to even go near the line. So we walked back to the Boulangerie where I had lunched and Mary had sugared, and Mary got a sandwich for lunch. I fretted about ice cream because I wanted to have the best ice cream in Paris and it wasn’t where we were. Mary kept trying to make suggestions of other ice cream I could have and I was basically like a toddler, saying, “No, I don’t know anything about that ice cream and it gets 2 stars on Google.” Eventually, Mary stopped trying to assuage her toddler wife and we took an Uber back to the hotel. On the way we passed the park Mary had originally suggested. It looked really nice and I was annoyed that we hadn’t done what she suggested in the first place.

It took me a couple hours to realize that despite my declaration that I would live in the moment on this trip and have no set expectations, I had spent the whole day trying to recreate experiences from over 40 years ago, and that I needed a serious attitude adjustment.

By this morning, I had made the adjustment. I had breakfast at the Hyatt, where we had been complaining that it was all kind of mediocre, but I didn’t try to eat what I imagined you are supposed to eat when you are in France. I had been suffering greatly from a lack of vegetables, so I had a salad with steamed salmon, yogurt with fresh fruit, a cup of tea, and some whole grain bread and cheese. It was a wonderful breakfast.

Below is a picture of Mary and me in front of the beautiful garden. It wasn’t until that evening that we saw I was flipping off the camera, completely unaware, but totally indicative of my lousy mood. 🙂