paris times II

Just back from Paris, and what a trip it was. I have a most excellent souvineer, which I will post here tomorrow. This morning Adam and I went to Versailles, then popped out of the metro in time to see the fiasco of the Tour de France finish at Arc de Triumph, then wandered off to pay a visit to Oscar Wilde before climbing aboard our Genève-bound TGV.

I felt a major difference between Paris and Berlin in that Paris doesn't wear a broken heart on its sleave; there isn't a sense of stifled or just-brushed-away tears. It's a warm city where thousands of young and old people gather at night on the banks of the Seine to laugh with their friends and drink wine and eat bread and cheese. In Paris you're invited into the belly of the city, down into the sewers where the raw effulent from the place churns beneath your feet, down into the catacombs where the skeletal remains of millions are stacked neatly in passages (and filled in haphazardly behind) — two invitations we accepted on Saturday morning in the drizzle. Berlin, too, is a great city, but it is still healing.

We were in Paris long enough to adopt a favorite café, Café a la Renaissance, which is a quiet place by the cemetary at Pere Lachaise, where nobody speaks English and where the patrons, mainly locals, but also the occassional stragling Jim Morrison fan, are under no pressure to act attractive. We sat there for a long time, in the estuary between the cigarrette smoke of the old Parisians and the damp, refreshing air coming through the drizzle outside. I had to bust out my most primitive French to accomplish things, it was most excellent.

So much good food. Good bonding with the other kids, particularly Reid and Chris. Only a little awkwardness, and then that was just internal.

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chance encounter with olympic danes

Here are Adam and me in Paris with the Danish women's cycling Olympic team.. no joke! The adventures never cease.