Paris Day Something: Sunday June 7th 2009

Time Flies in Paris and Bruges and Paris Again


Ack! Somehow the Sunday before we leave Paris is upon us. I walked through Marché Richard Lenoir today, taking my now familiar circuit to my favorite vendors. 3 weeks has been just enough time for me to be recognized and to have become a regular.

"Bonjour Madame, ça va? You want some cherries. Taste these. They are the sweetest today. And these tomatoes are the best of the season so far. Hello Madame. Two crepes with butter and sugar to go? Have a lovely day."

And then, limiting my purchases to what can be consumed in 3 days, I realized that we have to leave on Wednesday. And that the next market is on Thursday and that I will be on a plane instead of negotiating for fresh produce in my mediocre (but steadily improving) French.

Time has a funny way of tricking you, especially when you are on vacation. Just two days ago we were on a crash tour of Bruges. Time seemed to stop, or at least slow way down.

Bruges is a small city, full of an overwhelming amount of beautiful things to see, and see them we did. The whole city is a Unesco World Heritage site, amazingly preserved, somehow avoiding destruction from centuries of war and is now filled with tourists by day and patient, laid back Bruggians all the time. (I think the mellowness has something to do with the copious amount of cheap and delicious beer available at all times.) We tackled the cobblestoned streets and experienced more in our short two day stay than should have been possible. Beer, chocolate, cathedrals, little boats, canals, fries, swans, holy blood, ancient hospitals, ancient breweries, more relics, statues, paintings. It seemed like we were there for a week or more, but that is tricky time for you.

The high speed train whisked us back to Paris, where we emerged from the metro into a different, but familiar world—out home away from home. The Obamas dined in an old bistro across town, while Cody and I dined on Falafels and fruit.

This afternoon, Cody and I took a long walk, from the Arena of Lutece (an ancient Roman arena, now a park in the 5th), meandering back toward the Hotel de Ville, where we watched Federer handily roll through the first set, on a giant TV set up for all of Paris to watch the French Open. It started to sprinkle so we marched through the Marais, finally ducking out of the rain at Caves St. Gilles. The Open was on tv, the sangria good and strong, the olives delicious, free and plentiful and the mood convivial. This is why I love this town.

Oh and by the way, Cody's hair is like Mary Poppins' purse.

Bon Soirée et Bisous