I found out that I was in Paris at the same time as one of my favorite authors — Christopher Moore! Had I known, I would have spent most of my time trying to find him — which would have probably ticked off my husband, and really cut into my hanging around drinking latte time.
But the trip — that would be mine, not Moore’s — was great. We spent five days (more or less) in London, running ourselves ragged, then went by Eurotrain (or star or whatever it’s called) through the chunnel (again, or whatever it’s really called) to Paris. We were smart and went first class. As I was drinking champagne and eating the three course meal, I realized I could quite possibly get used to that sort of lifestyle. (Especially after our “cattlecar thanks to Thomas Cook” trip over.) I think that frightened my husband just a little. (Poor dear.)
We arrived in Paris, went to our hotel, and then went to the Eiffel Tower. It was dark by the time we arrived — and if you ever get the chance, see it that way! Absolutely amazing. I know that does not explain much of anything — but it was. The tower itself is huge — you can see it from nearly everywhere, it seemed, and when you take the elevator up, you can see a lot of Paris. Not all of it, though. We could tell, because Paris went to every horizon we could see. A huge city, and we knew we were only going to see a bit of it. But we did our best, and once you get used to the way the city is divided, it’s quite easy to get around.
We were lucky and our hotel was quite near the Seine, and the Louvre, and all the other “things you want to see” in Paris. We were even a block from the Moulin Rouge! So, we tromped about, checking things out, exhausting ourselves even more, until we realized two days before we were going to leave, that we didn’t have anything left. So we hung around, drinking lattes and reading. Or watching the tourists, which is always quite fascinating. Or watching the traffic, which was amazing. It was a lot like watching a huge school of fish moving through the ocean. Really. Massively organic.
I fell in love with that place, and was already planning our next visit. My husband, who wasn’t quite as taken with it, suggested that possibly I’d like to come with our daughter. (She fell in love with the city much the way I did, I think.)
I know I didn’t talk about London, and will, soon. It was an experience I will not soon forget — but Paris. Ah Paris. I fell in love with that city. Even though I didn’t see Christopher Moore.