Writing my last post from Paris feels bittersweet. How many writers have ventured to this fabled city to do one thing – put pen to paper? No matter how the époques turn and the technology advances, the image of the Parisian cafe with its solemn observing devotees persists. Romantic notions die hard.
Of course I imagined myself at the corner cafe watching the tea infuse the hot water as I filled my notebook with inspired prose. But the reality of life with a toddler quickly took hold and we spent more time chasing pigeons than quietly contemplating the beauty and history of the scene around us.
Yes, there were times when we took a seat in one of those pretty woven cafe chairs, but instead of exquisite moody brooding, we played wildly, insisting on drinking the hot chocolate with a spoon and spilling it all over clean white shirts with little French kitty cats.
I’m looking forward to being settled at our new home in California next week. The plane ride will be an adventure, but we’re ready. And I hope in the coming year I can look back at our time in Paris and share some of my favorite memories on Tidepooler, because I sure wasn’t able to share as much of our life here with all its moments of glee and surprise and dismay and confusion as I had hoped.
One thing I learned from living in Paris is that city life suits me. Let’s hope the transition to Berkeley suburbia won’t be too much of a shock, and that summer comes soon, as it often does in the East Bay.
Elodie just got back with her babysitter. Snoozing silently in the poussette. “We were chasing pigeons,” her babysitter said. We’ll miss many things about Paris, but thankfully, they have pigeons in California too.
Thursday was Fete de la Musique in Paris. From rock bands and marching bands to choirs and DJs, music makers set up around the city. We went for a stroll around the Canal Saint Martin with our friends McLain, David, and Dayze. Here’s a little Instagram documentation of our night. Can you spot Rama dancing?
