Last weekend was a long weekend here in France for the Fete National. We had big plans for Friday, to go and watch the parade on the Champs d’Elysee see the military fly over and generally get out and about and see what it was all about… Sadly, we spent the whole day in the hooouse getting a new window fitted in the bedroom. The wall was rotten so instead of taking an hour or so as expected there were 3 guys here from 10am ’till 5pm making a mess of the apartment, cursing their rotten luck and covering everything with a thick layer of dust. Special. When they finally left, yes we had a brand new double-glazed window that now closes, we spent the next 3 hours of so trying to get rid of the dust, before heading out for a fantastic meal at Au Vieux Moliére (after a recommendation from our neighbour Michel). It was so good, and we ate so well that by the time the fireworks started, we just managed to hear them but we couldn’t drag ourselves away, we stumbled home to bed exhausted.
Saturday we were heading off to the bio markets in the 8th. The first mistake was to take the route via rue St Honore, and the second was to stop at every shop along the way… Surprisingly(!) we didn’t make the markets, but we did pick up some lovely things, all of which were on sale, before we had to dash home, have lunch and get ready to go see the Alvin Ailey American Dance Company who were performing outside at the National Archives in the Marais. It was fantastic. Stinky hot, dripping sweat (and that was just us sitting in the audience) but unreal. At the end they had a question and answer session with the dancers and both Michelle and I came out of there saying “we have to go back to the gym!”. The black male dancers were amazing…
Yesterday the streets were deserted. We decided to take a nice leisurely walk up to the Sacre Coeur. There was no-one about, just us. We stopped for brunch and a citron pressé along the way, stuck our head in a couple of open shops along the rue des Martyrs before hitting the 18th district and amazingly a billion tourists who obviously had the same idea as us. We walked up to the top by the church and then back down the other side to the rue Muller, and the Cafe au Soleil de la Butte. This was my local cafe when I lived in Paris in 1989 and the owner still treats me like a long lost daughter. We sat outside on the terrace with Ahmed, drinking Rose and chatting about life, Paris, and the universe whiling away the afternoon.
Valerie joined us for a light late lunch then we headed back up to the Sacre Coeur for a wander around the small backstreets of Montmarte where we found a small plaque announcing we’d found Dalida’s last residence. It’s really very beautiful in Montmarte. One minute you can be surrounded by thousands of tourists in the Place du Tertre and the next just one corner away you find yourself alone, in a quite street surrounded by trees and beautiful old houses.
We wandered back to the 1st arrondisement while the sun set and had dinner outside on a terrace at a local Thai restaurant.
The weekend wasn’t exactly as planned, just better.
