In which we get lost

 

As I was struggling to button up my pants last night, I thought "I need to ease up on the old calories," after which I promptly went out for a lavish dinner. I blame those damn croissants; it's all French weight, Paris pounds.  Yes, Diane von Austinburg and I are once again in Gay Paree.

So what's up with this trip to a center of civilization and culture? What have I done while visiting one of the great cities of the world?  I have eaten.  Eaten and eaten and eaten, such delicious foods.  We visited a couple of museums and parks just to give me some plausible deniability that all I did here is stuff my greedy face.  Even when we went to the museums, the cafes there were an important part of the experience.  At the Institute of the Arab World for instance, I had a delicious exotic lunch of a green salad with olives and feta and watermelon in it.  I would like to imply I'm just doing this to keep my strength up, but actually I'm just a pig when it comes to good food.

Last night we had dinner at a joint called the Beef Bar.  That's not a translation, that's it's actual name.  Man, was it a gorgeous room, all Art Nouveau tile

Of course it's not all lavish lunches and dinners, there are also tasty breakfasts to consider.  Come with me as we go out for a little morning pick me up. 

The cafe half a block from the hotel called the Saint Regis.  

Diane and I went out to see Notre Dame and Saint Chappelle yesterday.  Our hotel is only a couple of blocks from there, so we strolled over, la la la, only to be confronted by an enormous line waiting to get in.  It looked like a goddamn Mardi Gras parade.  I would have thought it was a well-behaved mob except everybody was facing in the same direction.  I could tell Diane knew I was immediately ready to flee since I have no patience for standing in line and I also realized once I finally got through the line I would have to be stuck inside with all the people who had formerly been in front of me.  She suggested instead that we try Saint Chappelle and come back to Notre Dame later.  I agreed, we headed over there and guess what we found?  ANOTHER ENORMOUS LINE.  That was when I abandoned my dear friend and came back to the hotel. 

In my defense, I have seen both of them more than once and while I think they're beautiful and interesting and important, I'm just not willing to be herded along with a few hundred strangers.  Diane later told me the line for Saint Chappelle was so slow she eventually gave up on it, but then was able to get into Notre Dame pretty easily and liked it.  So she got to see an important monument to Western Civilization and I got to have more coffee.  It was a win-win. 

We are headed off shortly for the train to London via the tunnel under the English channel.  I'm looking forward to London, and the train ride, but I always am sorry to bid adieu to Paris.  And especially to the shower in this hotel.  Adieu, Mon douche, adieu.