What to do? Today is the last hurrah. Nikki and Valerie head out on the subway (running only minimal routes due to disruptions discussed below) to the Rodin museum. I strike out on my own to take care of things on my list and trying to avoid the bone-tiring pace of the previous 5 days. First I head out to Isle de St. Louis and pick up quite an assortment of mustards and jellies, as well as a couple bottles of incredibly yummy olive oils…nothing like jars of liquid to push your suitcase over the weight limit! Drop everything off at the hotel and head to the previously well-photographed patisserie to pick up some lunch snacks and meet the girls in the Luxembourg gardens. Quite lovely and thousands of people enjoying the sunny, fall day.
Even availing themselves of the park’s wi-fi. I eat and nod in the sun, walk around the park, and am heading out the gate when I hear my name called and we’re reunited (how did we get along being away from each other for so many hours?). We marvel together at the loveliness and planning in the park and get our picture snapped by a passerby:
Today is also strike day – hundreds of thousands of people are protesting the proposal to move retirement/pension age from 60 to 62. Again, I admire the French dedication to quality of life, even if it does negatively impact their economic growth. Is theirs the right balance? I know that the US doesn’t have the right balance for emotional and spiritual health, that’s for sure (but def for economic opportunity). As we head home, we encounter the strikers and watch them march.
Nikki and Valerie head back to the hotel to check on their credit card snafu when trying to rent bikes and I duck into a shoe store. I pick up a last minute pair of black suede pumps (luckily, the other 6 pair I looked at didn’t fit well or were too pricey!) and meet back up with them at our room. To go out to dinner? How could we pass up our last chance for incredible food? The girls graciously agreed to move our dinner back to 9:30 so I can drag them to two musical events that evening. First, we head about a block away to attend a Chopin-Liszt piano recital in the oldest church in Paris. It’s small, intimate and so beautiful. The playing is exquisite and two of the songs touch me in a way to make my heart swell and spirit soar so much that I burst out laughing at one point. Oh my, to be carried away like that is so thrilling. But mindful of the night’s schedule, we head out after 30 minutes and walk 5 minutes to Notre Dame for an organ concert. Here I was imagining the hunchback pounding on those pipes and filling the grand old church with darkness and notes filling every apse and chapel, but it was definitely much more subdued and banal, sorry to say. But who knew? After about 20 minutes we step out, hop in a cab (our first of the whole trip) and step out at Au Vieux Comptoir, which turns out to be a true gem. We were (yay!) the only non-french patrons, some of whom still had their protest banners and flags. We had a delightful meal and sampled several wines before settling on the one that worked for all of us. See all the tester glasses?
You can see behind us in the picture shelves of wines, salts and various little cooking items surrounding us. Alas, every evening comes to an end and before we knew it (but not before salads, chops and a great little chocolate cake and chantilly for yours truly) the reading glasses were whipped out and bill paid.
Walking back and drinking in all the sights – the Seine with its lazy current and lit up boats floating along, Hotel de Ville and other former palaces, the Eiffel Tower, the performers and jam-packed bistros, brasseries and wine bars, the people spilling out of clubs and our jazz spot, the sounds, smells and noises – I knew that we were all tired, happy, sated women. More days would add nothing to the adventure (well, maybe debt and pounds), and we were content to be heading back with memories of our incredible time in the City of Lights.