Last Day in Paris

I’m on the Thalys on my way to Brussels, then on to Brugge. It’s 9:00 a.m. and the trip will be an hour and 15 minutes. Then I change trains for the rest of the trip to Brugge, another hour approximately. I got up at 6:00 which turned out to be just the right time to allow me to get ready, finish packing, and get the apartment shipshape. The taxi I called came right away, the only traffic on the streets were taxis, so I got to the train station early enough to have a croissant and a coffee before getting on the train. The train trip is pleasant but only occasionally can you see anything because of the high banks on either side of the tracks.

Yesterday started out cloudy and turned quite nice in the afternoon, so coats were unbuttoned and scarves loosened and everyone who had been indoors came out to enjoy the sunshine. Don’t we appericiate it this time of year! The Marche au Puces was fun - it was actually a brocante market which is a step up but not as expensive as antiques. I took a couple of pictures of the more interesting things. One vendor was selling the most beautiful Art Deco furniture. I don’t recall seeing much Art Deco in the US., have you? Maybe more on the east coast.

I bought a tiny Limoge pitcher for my collection and some old posstcards with writing on the back. The market was a bit away from the usual tourist areas, so I decided to try my luck with lunch there. I went to Café de la Fontaine, which turned out to be a perfect choice for my last day in Paris. It was turn of-the-century-old, decorated in the Belle Epoch style, with antique posters and menus to match. I was sitting elbow-to-elbow with a pleasant man who was taking his probably six year old daughter out to lunch. We exchanged pleasantries and laughed when my dessert came. I had ordered three “boules” of coffee ice cream and I got three “bols” (Boules are scoops; bols are, well, bowls.) The little girl ordered a hamburger, which looked very much like an American hamburger, served open-faced, with the meat and melted cheese on one bun and the lettuce, tomato, etc. on the other bun. She ate it with her fork and knife. I told her that in the U.S. Americans ate their hamburgers with their hands; wasn’t that awful? So we all, including the waiter had a laugh about that.



For lunch I had confit de canard and fried potatoes in garlic. It’s a southwestern dish and it was delicious!

Then I took a long walk (farther than I thought it was going to be and no pissoirs in sight) to Pont Alexandre III, the most ornate bridge in the city, and went to a real antique exposition, the kind of things you see in museums, except that everything’s for sale and you have to pay to get in. I didn’t buy anything there. After that I went home, went across the street to buy a beer (1664) and say good-by to the grocer. He was such a nice little man. He wished me a good trip and said, “A la prochaine fois.”

A final goodbye to my favorite place to spend time in Paris: le Jardin du Luxembourg.