Paris 3/4

If anyone is even still reading this blog I apologize for my lack of interest in maintaining it at this point in the trip. What we eat, what we do, what we look like just isn't that interesting.  Even to me, and I'm a central part of it. But it does help me remember the times we had, and the things we did. So I keep a blog to share the experience with friends and family, but mostly so that I can recall all that was good and fun and adventurous in my biased mind that only likes to permanently log all the terrible, disagreeable, and unjust things of life. And perhaps that bit of information will help you to understand why I choose bad movies over the meaningful films that win awards.

We haven't done much these past few days except enjoy each other and the city. The weather has been very mild though overcast with scattered showers.

As I have been fighting a cold.  I switched to tea.  My comment here is that my favorite country to eat breakfast in is the U.S.  Some places just understand it better than others.

 Rain.  Bad day for suede x 2.

 Hmmm, feels like home.  For those who don't understand that, visit www.collidenyc.org

 I think this says these rats were caught in 1925.  But I can't read French.

Of all the trips I've taken and all the record stores I've been to this was by far the messiest, but most massive inventory I have every seen.  Or attempted to sort through.  Platinum mine.

 Kurt could have spent days in there, but found a few good finds without having to dig very deep.

 We went to watch Arsenal.

 There were 4 of us there to cheer on the Gunners.

 Ok.

This was not a good choice.  A Scottish man was behind the bar so I thought it was a sure thing.  Not so much.

Almost midnight in Paris.  We stumbled onto the spot from the film where Owen is picked up and transported back in time. We were pretty excited about it.  We can't be positive, what do you think?  The shots below get it from all angles. 

Our goal was to kill a couple hours in a brasserie off St. Germain and then walk a few blocks over the river for the fireworks.  It took us some time to settle on a place and I was confident it was going to be a disappointment.  But surprisingly it turned out to be perfect even though my dinner turned out to be pasta with mayonnaise.  Still fighting a cold I relented to a Lillet (seen above).  When we were getting ready to head to the river Kurt asked our waiter if we could see the fireworks from the bridges.  The young French couple next to us (who were playing Mastermind at the table) informed us there was a "crisis" because they cancelled the fireworks.  We thought the word choice odd, but shrugged it off and headed down to the river.  Without any finale, we were a little bewildered about where to stand, so we walked up and down and across and under trying to find a good spot, and not knowing what to expect.

That's a look of terror.  Apparently all the shady people hang out down here. It was an unplanned adventure I need not repeat.  I must also mention that everyone had buckets of booze on them.

We settled on the Bridge Saint Michel.  What we learned is locals brings champagne to toast.  The sound of the bottles popping open in the last minute sent the crowd into a frenzy of cheering.

And here we are.  2012 in our own private Idaho on the Seine.  It wasn't too crowded, nor out of control considering the amount of heavy drinking taking place.  I learned that "crisis" is the right word for the absence of fireworks, because though romantic, the entire event was underrated (I even bothered to find out why-and apparently it's due to the recession). There wasn't even a countdown.  All of a sudden people yelled, but it seemed to me that there was more celebration in the 10 minutes leading up to it then the actual event.  So we shrugged our shoulders and shuffled back to the hotel, avoiding the groups of rowdy teens with their bottles of spirits.

Today we didn't leave the hotel until 1:30.  Hunger eventually forced us out.  After lunch we went to the Pompidou.  The queue was immense which we thought was because nothing much else was open but turns out it was free for the day.  It was after 5 by the time we left and we got our train tickets to the airport for tomorrow and headed back to our neighborhood.  After a quick trip for an ice cream bar and candy at the bodega we returned to the hotel where you now find me.  We will probably pack tonight and I suppose we'll have to leave in order to get some dinner though I'm hard pressed to get up off this bed.  I still feel under the weather.

Tomorrow we head out around 10 to make our afternoon flight.  We layover in Montreal, but it's worth it because they upgraded us to 1st class.  If we're back at the apartment by 10 pm I'll be happy. We are looking forward to home, our friends, our families, and our dogs.

For me, this trip has resonated in a different capacity.  The friends who shared their lives, and their cities with us have made the time especially special.  Thank you. For those we left behind, you were constantly on our hearts, and in our conversations.  I leave you with the words of that Old Long Ago poem-a call to remember old friendships, and the new ones we sure will grow old too.  And there's a hand, my trusty fiere, and gie's a hand o'thine, And we'll tak a right guid willie-waught For auld lang syne! (And there's a hand my trusty friend ! And give us a hand o' thine! And we'll take a right good-will draught, for auld lang syne)

Come visit us...but only for 3 days....it's a small apartment.