This resident of suburbia needs to have a stern talk with her feet. Even though I spend five hours a day on my feet in the classroom and slog through my daily treadmill torture, it is an entirely different matter to trudge around Paris. My very comfortable walking shoes and sandals are no match for Paris's pavement, cobblestones, and packed dirt paths.
After a somewhat late start yesterday (Yes, I was the one who slept till 9, unheard of in my usual life) we headed into the Marais. We revisited the area where we stayed two years ago, and just kept walking in happy circles. We grabbed falafel at L'as du Falafel on rue des Rosiers, and walked over to the little park around the corner to eat on a bench while watching children throw sand at each other. Some things are universal. We were very amused to see the same messy street construction from two years ago. Again, universal. Amorino is still selling creamy gelato, shaped into a rosette on your cone. I enjoyed this little one getting licks from her sister's spoon all down rue des Francs Bourgeois.
We poked into galleries and shops, winding toward the 3rd, and then headed to the Picasso museum late in the afternoon. Larry comments that the Picasso would be a great place to meet women, as it is thronged with women alone or in small groups. I looked at the artwork.
After resting in the museum's outdoor cafe, we headed home. Dinner was at Le Petit Nicoise, another small place in the neighborhood. We started with the soupe de poissons, and ladled tons of aioli onto the croutons to float in the bowl. This was really delicious stuff. I followed with a whole roasted fish, and Larry had three fish fillets steamed in a packet with vegetables and a rich sauce. My fish was very good, but Larry's was the clear winner.
Friday we decided to head to another market, this time the one on Blvd. Raspail, in the 6th. We walked over to catch the number 87 bus, but decided to begin walking and catch the bus a bit further down. We'll get it the next stop. Maybe the next. Hey, we're almost there. I finally insisted on getting on the damn bus.
At the market, we bought lumpy and tasty tomatoes, sweet tiny apricots, more figs, and a small melon. Then over to the amazing grocery store at Le Bon Marche, Le Grand Epiciere for some goodies to take on the road tomorrow.
I stopped into a pharmacy for some lotion for my poor feet. I had a very amusing consultation with a woman there, who insisted on inspecting my calluses. I assured her that I would be taking care of my pedicure, and walked out with some expensive but nicely soothing stuff.
Back to the apartment and then downstairs to Cafe Max, the little place next door for lunch. This place has been full of french-speakers every night, has low prices, and the food has looked great. We had a slice of terrine, I had carpaccio, and Larry lived dangerously with calve's rognon with a mustard sauce. I cannot eat kidneys after my experiences with kidney stones, and insisted no, no I really don't want a taste. For anyone interested, he reported they were tasty but slightly chewy.
Dessert were two different chocolate macarons from the amazing chocolate shop, Jean-Paul Hevin.
Another walk, a rest, and then an enjoyable time at the Musee Rodin, just across the Invalides. I get overloaded at the Rodin, since I need to spend so long just absorbing one piece. Walking home, we marveled at what a absurdly beautiful city this is. I love the contrast and layers.