Yesterday we met up with Arnaud, the cousin of our good friend DMD and a friend of ours for many years. Arnaud lives outside the city in the town Antony, so we went on a little jaunt to the ‘burbs. Antony – all two and a half blocks of it – is cute. [Although I think everything here is cute. I could be looking at the dumpiest street in Paris and still think it’s charming.] The best part of our rendezvous was connecting with a familiar face, which cannot be emphasized enough. It meant so much to be hosted for lunch and enjoy a friendly afternoon. Plus we learned TONS of info that one could only get from a local. Arnaud gave us the scoop on everything from washing machines to grocery shopping, from news channels to Internet speed, you name it. He even gave us a cell phone. We’re so indebted.
We had a slow morning, which, we discovered to our detriment, severely limited our ability to find food. Many boulangeries and charcutries close at noon on Sundays, plus it’s August, so our chances of putting together a romantic picnic (which sounded amazing when we thought of it last night) were slim. I went out on my own in search of picnic food and wound up finding a farmer’s market (fruits and veggies only).
It was bustling with locals young and old, and boasted some pretty gorgeous looking produce. It was there that I either committed my first faux pas or was just plain stupid. One stall had peaches for sale at a certain price for 2.5 kilos. The vendor started filling up a bag for me, but I said, “Non, je choisi” (which in retrospect may have offended him, who knows). He wasn’t happy when I only selected two peaches, and he proceeded to charge me an amount I couldn’t quite distinguish. After I got my change back, I realized I’d probably been ripped off, but I didn’t have the vocabulary or energy to argue about it. Lesson learned. On another outing today, Nate and I discovered an amazing boulangerie (open on Sunday afternoons, no less) in the opposite direction I’d taken earlier. SCORE. And I now remember what a baguette is supposed to taste like.
This afternoon we walked up a storm and discovered some lovely outdoor spots. On Nicole’s recommendation, we checked out the nearby Viaduc Des Arts. This ancient viaduct (leftover from Roman Empire) has a top level on which the city has planted gardens and a paved walkway. Lovely for a Sunday stroll.
Then we crossed the Seine to the 5th, where we ambled up Rue Mouffetard (a pedestrian-only cobbled street lined with shops, cafes, etc) and soaked up some natural beauty in the Jardin des Plantes (is there any other kind??). The latter reminded me a bit of certain parts of Central Park. It’s also the home of the Museum of Natural History, so the munchkins were out in droves. It’s notable that there are many interracial couples in Paris, so you can imagine how beautiful the children are.
It’ll be a quiet Sunday evening for us, as we embark on a busy week. I have to get my carte de sejour (equivalent of a green card) tomorrow, which will probably eat up my entire morning. Nate starts work and I have six (possibly seven) interviews. We’re already looking forward to notre vacance dans Provence le weekend prochain.
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