1) The day began with the sort of dynamic tension between wanting to get the day started and being so very comfortable in bed that there is little desire to move at all. Eventually I made the move.
2) Without going into detail, something happened to start my day on the wrong foot. I sat in the hotel lobby, steaming and stewing, with my café au lait, which was just steaming, and I knew if I stayed rooted in that chair, in that building, that I would be in a horrible funk for the rest of the day. While several recommendations had been made, I decided that it would be best to be around the fewest people possible. So I packed my little backpack and headed to the Métro to take a little hike in the Bois de Vincennes.
3) My first trip on the Paris Métro since 2011, and I was quite bewildered by the ticket machines, but somehow got it sorted out. If you don’t know what to do, watch other people (discreetly, of course). That’s how I figured out how to use my new little Métro card.
4) I expected this to be all underground, so I was pleased indeed when the train came aboveground in a few stretches and I could see Paris around me.
One view of the chateau de Vincennes.
5) Disembarking at Vincennes, I realized I was getting both dehydrated and hangry, and claimed a table at the very first sidewalk bistro. A very plain and long ham sandwich and a beautiful glass of ruby port helped get me settled — and a very large glass of water.
6) Then it was off into the bois, first down a road with the chateau on one side and a fort or something else interdit on the left. But getting into all that green on this hot day, and only joggers or cyclists or road maintenance employees around, as opposed to the hordes on the sidewalks — this was what I needed to restore my equilibrium.
7) Back in my room about 3 PM, you will not be surprised to learn that I had a NAP. But this time it was interrupted by having to cancel a dental appointment at home. How on earth did THAT get on my calendar?
Street art of Montmartre.
8) A friend had recommended a restaurant in Montmartre that just happened to be a 15-minute walk from my hotel. Uphill, this being Montmartre. I set out early so I could investigate a cemetery the map said was a little further on — downhill, as it turns out. By the time I found the entrance, closed. But to see the street art, the tourists, the bistros of Montmartre, this is not a bad thing! I lingered in the shade to catch up on the news, and read a couple information boards about Vincent Van Gogh’s time living in the neighborhood.
8a) Walking downhill, ahead of me was a tall French resident with distinguished silver hair wheeling out his bicycle, and having to dodge a woman on her phone saying in a brusque American accent “AND IT CANNOT BE CANCELLED OR MODIFIED.” The way that man looked at her, I laughed out loud!
8b) On the fashion front, I also saw a Frenchman Older Than I walking uphill wearing a light blue suit with short pants and dark knee socks with dark shoes and a short-brimmed straw hat. I know it’s hot, but I’m not sure I could pull off that look. Somehow it seems specific to Bermuda to me, why I have no idea since I’ve never been there.
9) Coq et Fils served me an exquisite little dinner: artichoke hummus, a quarter of a roast chicken with marvelous sauce and a small dish of mac and cheese, and then a succulent chocolate mousse. (I must admit, the dessert was an extravagance.) Their specialty is poultry, and there’s a reason: they’re amazing.
9a) When I wasn’t actively engaged with my food I was scrolling the news and overhearing a lot of French dialogue between the staff, and a possible diner who ducked his head in the door to ask “Do you do duck?” Since the answer was no, he didn’t stay.
10) Then I retraced my steps back to Le Pigalle, and put myself to bed for the night.
