Paris Walk

I strolled this afternoon. K**** wasn’t feeling well, and encouraged me to go see Paris. I strolled down past L’Eglise du Dome and the through the gardens behind the Invalids to the Seine where I lingered a long time at the Pont d’Alexander. Then on along the Seine toward the Tuilleries where I say and watched the sunset in one of the most comfortable metal chairs I have ever encountered.

After the sunset I wandered back through the streets of the Left Bank, cutting down narrow side streets with small specialized shops and tucked away restaurants.

I know that we will be leaving Paris soon, and I suppose I am ready to do it. My excitement about coming here has dimmed somewhat and I find the rigors of trying to make myself understood tiring. The Parisiens that I have encountered have all been pleasant and helpful and very tolerant of my fractured attempts at conversation, but beyond the most rudimentary phrases, I am woefully ill-equipped to carry on any type of substantial exchange.

I think that I was caught up in the magic of my first visit to Paris 22 years ago, and have lived on that memory ever since. My imagination took me on long romantic walks along the Seine, afternoons spent sipping café in small bistros watching the people pass by.

But the reality of my return is now tempered with my own 22 years of experience which colors my view so that it tamps down to muted tones. I see it as a city now, beautiful yes, but still just a place where many people live their lives, conduct their business, drive, shout, laugh, talk, eat and play…and then fall into bed to rest until they get up to do it again.

There is no magic spell here, save in the eyes of romantic young men far from home. I do see ghosts of the young man I was. He is there standing at the Seine eyes wide before the fountain; there sipping wine at the corner bistro; there strolling in the bustling streets; there in the galleries of the Louvre. He has a smile that he is unaware of, glistening eyes and breath that is taken away.

He is a lucky young man and I envy him his birth of a dream.