Au revoir blitz

Today began badly…as we began our trip with Paris getting sick all over us, so we began our last day in Paris with me getting sick all over Paris.  The night before, we had decided to get our Eiffel Tower tickets online in order to save lots of line-standing time the next day.  But no.  Due to various printer and other computer problems (not the least of which was the fact that, although no one told us, the computer in the lobby shuts down every fifteen minutes…just for kicks, I guess), two hours and a very exhausted but well-meaning night concierge later, we had no tickets.  We determined to stifle our frustration at losing the first chunk of our badly needed night’s rest, and off to sleep we went. 

Just a few hours later, we hauled ourselves out of bed to begin our last day in the city.  I promptly realized my terrible condition and put myself back to bed, sending Ely down to work out the ticket thing with the day concierge.  Let’s just say that perhaps a rush of adrenalin was just what I needed to bring about  my  jump start, so when Ely returned completely disheartened and thoroughly insulted by  Monsieur le Concierge de l’Enfer (that wasn’t his real name), my body seemed to dart out of bed and into my clothes all by itself.  Next thing I knew  I was in his face across the desk in the hotel entry yelling at him in French for all new clients to overhear with no effort.  He had been so far out of line with my daughter, so lazy, so…….etc. etc. Oh la LA la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la LA! (I felt vindicatd, at least, on her behalf.)

As soon as I got back upstairs, the phone rang, and he invited us nicely to come back down and he would make it right.  All was well.  The tickets were forthcoming, and we went on our way, belated, to see the beautiful Tour Eiffel.

 After our very long and  final trek from Versailles to Paris, to the top of the tower we went.  Even in overcast and rainy weather, there is no way to be disappointed at the top of the Tour Eiffel.  The view is always spectacular, as it was for us today.  Click click, nice Aussie guy and his girlfriend took a good one of us with a distant Notre Dame in the background.  Tres bien.  Allez, viens!

We had a bad feeling about trying to take in the Monmartre area this time.  So, instead we opted for a more gentle and soothing end to our stay, and went to the Orangerie to keep a tentative appointment with Monet.  I had never seen the two large rooms literally wall papered from one end of each curvilinear wall to the other with…you guessed it, his water lilies.  



Miles of them in vast ranges of deep to pastel blues, violets, shadow, light, and movement.  I have a photo of Ely looking at them….we both just began to breathe in those rooms.  I don’t know how, but one feels the peace of the actual location through the canvass.  I think it is a miracle.  God’s handiwork through a transcendent kindred spirit.  Thank You for Monet.

We took one last walk through the Tuilerie Gardens…past the Louvre, and managed to catch a lady, one of the Bouquinists, just getting ready to close her little portable shop on the wall overlooking the Seine. 

We bought a gift for Erynne, and headed for St. Germain to keep our last rendez-vous with the Deux Magots,  where Victor Hugo and friends used to meet. 

One more celebration of mousse au chocolat, chocolat chaud a la facon ancienne, one more long, lovely moment sitting at a French café at dusk,

just in time to watch as the final Christmas lights were gingerly put in place...

 We watched as they began to show off in the evening sky illuminating the entire Place St. Germain with glorious waves of living brilliance.  This is still a beautiful place.  A toast to our moment, and on to catch the evening train for one last ride back to Versailles.

Our goodbyes were said in the best French fashion, over a delicious dinner at a great restaurant in Versailles with Marie-Helene and her son Aurelien.  The wonders of goat cheese can never be motonous. 

We reveled in such delicacies as tiny French pasta with miraculous cheese sauce, salade verte,  and for dessert the personification of what mangos and pears would taste like if they were served to God in the form of sorbetto with white chocolate gelato at the end of a royal banquet, topped with a ribbon of raspberry coulis and lots of whipped cream.  No words.

After lots of laughter and photos, and memories recounted yet again of when Aurelien and Eliott were together as toddlers, we took leave of Marie-Helene and Aurelien at the restaurant, and began our tearful walk back to our hotel.  Noticing that they were following us, we stopped.   When they caught up, all of us decided it would help to say goodbye again at the hotel.  Again, hugs a la facon d'Indiana, and bisous, a la facon francaise.   Merci, cheris, pour l’hotel, les souvenirs, et l’amour.  See you this summer in Indiana.

I have been to Paris now five times. 
The first time alone, and every other time with someone I love dearly.  The memories of each experience, with each individual, are unique….as if Paris wore a different gown, and danced to a different genre of music  for us each time.  Bogart once said ‘We’ll always have Paris’.  I don’t disagree.  Although she is being dragged through a turbulent time in her history, her beauty seems eternal.  Erynne's teen age wonderment at the lights and night life of the Champs Elysees, Eliott's fluency and accurate French accent as we interacted in the shops and museums, and Elyssa's tears as she saw Monet for the first time......Some of my best memories with each of them on each of my trips, and with my husband on our whirlwind weekend of romance, his  street savvy manner tempered with finesse appropriate to a leading man with his lady in the city of lights, all have Paris as the backdrop, either in Spring pastels, or in her Winter firs and diamonds.  So whether or not we ever return to her, we will always have Paris.  And to a certain degree, Paris will always have us.  A bientot, Cherie.