Paris Awaits

A bit of culture shock coming to the big city of Paris after the charming country towns of the Dordognes. Instead of a river flowing outside our hotel window, it’s a stream of cars on the freeway. Instead of the ongoing song of the mourning doves, it’s ambulance sirens. Instead of empty alleys with inviting twists and turns, it’s busy streets filled with people rushing to and fro. Living in San Francisco for over half-a-century, I’m quite accustomed to city life, but suddenly I feel like the country mouse visiting his cousin. 

 

After the intensity of the railroad station, trying to find a public toilet and figure out where the Metro was and make our way through shoulder-to-shoulder crowds, we finally found our way to the hotel in the southeast corner of the city. After getting settled, we strolled down a tree-lined boulevard, got some peanuts and our first chocolate bar, took a short walk in a nearby park and found a perfect restaurant with a Thai chicken rice dish. The diversity of food choices one of the perks of city life, to be sure. 

 

With an evening still ahead, decided to treat ourselves to the first movie viewing on our trip and thought about all the films set in Paris. Negotiated my way through all the obstacles to get to see Midnight in Paris on Youtube and settled ourselves down to it, only to discover that the sound and image sync was way off. As if it had first been dubbed in French and then returned to English 10 beats later. Too disturbing, so opted for Netflix and The Da Vinci Code and dang if the premise of a purposefully hidden femininity in the original Christian origins didn’t ring true. Damn patriarchy! And all the Inquisition/ Witch-burning havoc it caused, still living on in the current Regime’s reversal of progress in women’s rights. Look at the painting of Da Vinci’s The Last Supper and tell me you sincerely think that the figure to Jesus’s left is really John and not Mary Magdalene. 

 

Meanwhile, a cloudy day awaits and invites us to stroll along the Seine and in the gardens and to peek in churches and walk up cobblestone steps and sit at sidewalk cafes. I have lists awaiting of books and films with the word Paris in the title, another list of the same set in Paris and then there’s four jazz songs I can think of without looking anything up—I Love Paris (Cole Porter), April in Paris (Vernon Duke), Afternoon in Paris (John Lewis), The Last Time I Saw Paris (Jerome Kern). Change April for May and all could be the title for the day ahead.