Think About It. Toujours Paris. It has been sixty-two years since a barely 21-year old Indiana boy first found himself in the wonderland called The City of Lights. The story of that adventure will have to be told another day, because it is extraordinary. As for this visit, warnings have been issued that Paris will not be the same. A reasonable expectation, since over half a century has passed for me and the capital of France. Mary and I have anticipated that and have simply looked at every day as a discovery in a really not very foreign land.
As for writing, you might expect inspiration to be difficult to find when you notice that Gideon left a bible in German. I quickly discovered I could also find French and English guidance in the pages as well. But then, the variety of novel parks, places, streets and sights spark stories everywhere. The mixture of languages, nationalities, lifestyles and colors is beyond imagination. It has of course become even more multicultural in the past half century, but I am reminded why I never felt at home after my first visit until finding Santa Barbara.
It would seem that nobody cooks in Paris. At least here on the Left Bank nearly every other business is some manner of restaurant. Whether it’s called a Bar, a Brasserie, Restaurant, or simply a name on an establishment with a whiff of pastry coming up from the grate outside, there has to be food in there somewhere. We have no chance of meeting the challenge, but goodness knows we are trying.
Home base, the St. Paul RIVE GAUCHE, is a truly charming boutique hotel, built as a family home in 1699 and converted to use for public lodging nearly two-hundred years ago. In its current state the delightful decoration is colorfully capricious, while the important facilities are marvelously modern. Bathrooms, for instance, are walled in gleaming white tile, matched in quality by shining chrome hardware straight out of the latest style book. Incidentally, we’ve noticed that public facilities have been surprisingly inviting?. We have found a frequent use of highly polished walls of enameled steel, from Charles De Gaulle airport to a McDonalds in a neighborhood where we were lost. We cannot report on the food there, but I assure you, the restrooms sparkled.
Food choices (and eaten) so far have included Escargot, Steak Tartare, lamb shank, sautéed veal, all kinds of ham, versions of salmon, onion soup and salads of all kinds. Frites, of course. Good news for me and my doctor, food remains deeelicious and sparingly salted. Magnifique. Tonight we follow the trail of Woody Allen’s Midnight in Paris from the Polidor next door, a few blocks to Le Mediteranee. Bouillabaisse for Walter, Sea Bream with polenta for Mary. Wish you could see the creative lemon tart and the fresh raspberry on rosemary biscuit desserts. C’est dommage.
Of course many things have changed, but more have remained the same. Toujours Paris. Think About It.