“America is my country, but Paris is my hometown.” – Gertrude Stein
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I have always loved Paris. Anything french really. Several years back Vic and I traveled there for 10 days. We lived like the locals. Rented a flat. Shopped at the local grocers, went to the same cafes every day. Saw the same people. Lately, more than usual, strangely enough, I have been missing Paris. Perhaps it is due to the fact that I have just finished reading this book….
It’s about a 40-something woman who has been disowned by her family for a mistake she made, she then found herself homeless and went off to start working for a traveling circus as a cook. After that she moves to the 11th Arrondisiment in Paris to open her own cafe. This book is now one of my favorites. I devoured it. I didn’t want it to end. It was like an amazingly fabulous meal that you just want to continue savoring. I gorged myself on it, retracing my steps in certain chapters, re-reading certain scenes and analogies. It made me ache for the city even more.
Would it be terribly cliche’ for me to say that I was amazed at how at home I felt there? Well, the french love to sit around and eat and talk and smoke. Obviously I’m going to feel at home there. The pace was so different there. They take the time to stop and enjoy the simplicities of life. Something as simple as a cafe’ creme’ (coffee with milk). Having lunch outside a little bistro on a tuesday afternoon, enjoying a lively conversation with a good friend or a quiet moment with a riveting book. I am feeling very nostalgic this evening. Please bear with me as I share some pictures from my trip to my “hometown”.
Our front door to our flat……
The local corner market where we purchased our wine and our bottled water…..
Our favorite Cafe, which was up the street from our flat.
My most memorable meal at this Cafe.
The fabulous and welcome staff at Au Soleil. The guy hugging Vic tightly? That would be the owner. Every day he would wear the same jacket and scarf, walking around spritzing the corners of the cafe with air freshener. This picture was our last night in Paris. He brought us special liquor from his secret stash. We walked home that night, each now the proud owners of a liquor goblet from the restaurants’ shelves. I suppose he wanted us to take a part of the cafe home with us. Something to remember them by. It sits on my shelf at home in my dining room. I always remember them. Anyone who says the french are a rude people obviously has never really experienced Paris.
French people are rude??? REALLY??
Hmmmm…. well now, they all look friendly to me. What do you think?
More sights that I love…..
The Sacre Coeur at night.
And during the day.
Our means of transportation (besides our feet of course).
Our other favorite Cafe, where they knew our names and eventually what we liked to drink.
A common sight at Le Cafe Montmatre.
French Faith.
It would be an understatement to say that this trip changed my life. Changed me. My outlook on life. I was never the same. I take life slower now. Look at things differently. The things that used to be important to me just don’t seem that important anymore. I choose now to live life moment to moment…. savoring every last morsel. Lucky for me I have finally found myself a man with the same sentiments. He has no wish to see Paris, but hopefully someday I can take him there and change his mind. *sighs*
Speaking of that handsome man…..
Know what I love more than Paris? Him. Know what else I love? My new acquisition, thanks to him. Oooooooh, Preeeeeettttty.
*whispers* I’m not supposed to be blogging about it, cause he’s a silly loon and doesn’t want too much attention drawn, so this will have to stay our little secret. *nudge nudge, wink wink* But we’re getting married. I know, right??? *giggles quietly*
Poppycock and Sunshine 
