Paris Day 7: au revoir
This is our last day in Paris which means: must get every second we can out of it. Start off by running down to the Tour d’Eiffel then across the Seine . Run back and get lost again because I’m looking for Notre Dame on my left but it is/was on my right. It is only fitting that I should get lost yet again. I’ve never made it back perfectly from any run this entire trip.
Head out for the last museum. On the way search for the perfect patisserie. They have to be just right because they are the last ones! Walk in and out of four shops until voila. Locate most delicious morsels. Chocolate amande croissant and since it is after all lunch time, a sandwich of raisin bagette avec abricots et chevre. I am tres eloquent. I am astonishing all of the merchants with my tres bien French. Merci au revoir.
Reach our destination perfectly because Ed always stops to look at the map. Map? He insists. I like finding things more organically. But it is handy to every once in a while get to where we are supposed to get. We are at the Pompidou which houses the modern art collection. It is my favorite museum. I love some of the pieces especially from the 50s and earlier. Tres jolie! We go downstairs and look at an interesting feminist exhibit. Very interesting. There is one giant brown knitted creation that, well, I can’t describe it. You would have to see it.
From there we head back and I walk in and out of virtually every shop. Just looking. Ed hangs for a good while before he retreats back to l’hotel. I keep walking. Up and down, not paying attention, not getting lost because I generally know where I am. Find my favorite patisserie – by accident! Of course! Which means I have to request a café meringue in my most charmant francaise. Merci beaucoup! Yum.
Eventually I have to concede that this is all the Paris I can do. On my way back to the hotel, I go into the St. Sulpice Cathedral. The footprint of this church is exactly the same as Notre Dame, but doesn’t have all the high spires and gargoyles. As I walk through and look at the different alcoves, I decide to buy a candle for deux euros. I dump all the change I have into the offering box – all the clinks reverberate loudly. I get the longest candle and walk around looking for the right Saint. I find St. Joseph who is cradling a young child in his arms lovingly. He’s the right one. I light the candle, put it on the spindle that keeps it upright and watch it burn. The candle is for Cam. He converted to Catholicism in the 1980s and died in 1996 for reasons I’ll never know. Cam’s birthday is Monday. Happy anniversaire mon amie.