It’s Thursday, 6 June, and we are starting to drop like flies. Larry is the first to get sick. At first it just is a cold but then it quickly develops into a fever, a cough, a sore throat that feels like you are gargling razor blades and then you become so wiped out you can hardly move. We think “Poor Larry.” We think we are immune because we’ve been drinking Airborne and using hand sanitizer.
So we leave Gail and Larry at the apartment and head out to BHV, a department store with just about everything you might ever need. There are 3 pesky flies in the apartment that are driving us nuts! It only takes pantomimes with a couple of BHV employees of a buzzing fly and the hand motion of a swat and we have our fly killing machine. We also need pods for our Nespresso machine. (Nespressos are pretty big in Europe and the UK.) Unfortunately they no longer carry the pods so now we are off to the Marais district which turns out to be about a 30 minute walk.
Finally we find the Nespresso boutique and now the ritual begins. We must take a special bag and put it in a special machine and then fill it with sleeves of pods (10 pods/sleeve). There are probably 50 types of coffee you can buy—the entire wall is covered in different colored pods/different coffees. We choose 3 sleeves; put them in the special bag, in the special machine. Voilà! Our purchase is automatically calculated. We do NOT get the special bag to carry our purchase home. ☹️
After that long walk and involved purchase, I need to sit down and have a glass of wine. The closest cafe leaves us waiting for about 15 minutes so I get up and leave in a huff. Fortunately we are right next to the metro station. Next stop is a permanent market close to home to find dinner. As we exit the metro we find Cafe Brune and sit down for a drink. The server brings us nicely chilled white wine in an elegant glass. This is more like it! We relax in the terrasse’s sun and rest our weary legs.
Now to find the market… This covered market is really small and none of the stalls are open. We are disappointed. But on the way back to the metro we find a green grocer with white asparagus that looks really good. When I hand her one bunch she picks up a 2nd bunch. I tell her we only need one and she says the second is a gift. Very nice…
We also find a wine shop. They are setting up for a evening wine tasting but Madame helps us pick out 6 bottles. (A couple of the bottles turn out to be not to our tastes. Guess we won’t be going back there again.)
We take the metro back to our neighborhood—it’s just a short, one stop hop. First we stop at the drug store for some cold medication for Larry. I use Google Translate to tell the pharmacist the details of what Larry has asked for. That app is incredible!
We pick up lamb chops at the closest halal butcher and listen to the owner berate a dead-beat customer who hasn’t paid for his last 2 purchases. She indicates to us that he drinks too much with the international signal of a thumb in the mouth. Our dinner at home is perfect.
The next day Larry is really sick and in bed. Gail is starting to feel the effects of the virus but she is determined to not miss a day in Paris. The three of us head out to our old stamping grounds in the 6th arrondissement. We wander down rue Buci. Our favorite flower shop is replaced by a cafe. The green grocer’s wares do not look as inviting as they used to look and they now have tired looking cheeses. But our favorite cafe, Au Chai de l’Abbaye, is as good as ever!
Howard and I have an aperitif, Vieux Pineau des Charentes, to start. Gail wisely chooses the French onion soup to calm her oncoming cold. Howard and I each have a plate du jour: I have steak and H has a veal chop both served with delicious Potatoes Dauphinoise. We’re glad some things never change.
As we walk towards Pont Neuf, the “new” bridge completed in 1606 (new?), we look to see that the Hotel La Louisiane is still there. This hotel is in one of the best areas of Paris and the rooms in high season start at a really inexpensive 125€. It is not at all elegant but the last time we stayed there for 2 nights before flying home after a long trip south we had a remodeled bath with our room. We were happy that the carpet was well-used because we had the 2 poodles with us and it was raining. Fortunately we did not need to be real fussy about the dogs’ footprints.
We next walk down rue Dauphine past the apartment we rented in 2000 and then across the bridge to the Île de la Cite. We wind our way through Place Dauphine. We have enjoyed several of the restaurants there in past years. And wander on toward Notre Dame. We are not allowed to get close to the cathedral but it’s close enough to see the burned roof. It will be interesting to see how the cathedral is restored.
We stop for drinks at the cafe just down the street from the cathedral. The young man who serves us is so friendly and enthusiastic. He flirts with Gail and insists she take a picture of him. She orders a hot chocolat and he says he made it himself—it has a huge pile of whipped cream on top.
Before we ahead home we stop at the bakery next door to the cafe and buy bread, croissants and sandwiches for dinner. When we get home we find Larry as bad as we left him.
About 10pm just before we go to bed, I say to Gail “I think it’s raining. Open the door to see.” She opens the 10 foot high glass door to the deck and it detaches from the door jam and appears to be ready to fall down! It’s dark and we do not have a working flashlight so we really can’t tell what’s the problem. Howard finds some heavy-duty tape and we tape the door to the wall as best we can. Then we prop a 6 foot long chaise longue up against the door. I call the lady who in charge of the apartment and tell her the door is falling out of the wall! She doesn’t seem as concerned as we are. We go to sleep expecting at any time to hear a big thud and breaking glass.
TO BE CONTINUED