Canadians in Paris (23)

Well, okay, it’s a melting pot.  American, Brazilians, Japanese, Chinese, Filipinos; just a sea of people from all over the world.  

Eiffel Tower is only two blocks from the hotel which we stayed at for three nights. The lights were dancing as we arrived and we can only see the silhouette of the structure due to fog.  

Paris reminds me of the movie American in Paris with Gene Kelly and Leslie Caron.  In my mind, I was expecting them to show up on the streets dancing and singing.  I can hear the music playing in the background composed by Gershwin. Not.  Paris is just another big city. 

Our first night, I went out on my own to check out the street, night life and how far the Metro station just in case I want to go gallivanting and join the real world away from the watchful eyes of self-righteous pilgrims.  Oh yes, we are not perfect. 

The rows of open aired sidewalk restaurants, the traffic, the street vendors, the smell of pollution and gaiety of night life is very welcoming.  Ah, much better.  I need this time on my own. 

Suddenly, I remembered, uh-oh, here I go again, disappearing. I must return otherwise, a search party will be dispatched. They will think I am MIA.  One fellow pilgrim somehow took the responsibility that I don’t get lost?  Me? Get lost, never?  Just because I am younger than most folks, they think I’m lost.  Older folks tend to just sit around and have nothing better to do but focus on other people.  Hmmp! 

One time, they went into commotion because they thought I was missing.  Everybody was in the bus and they can’t find me. Hellooo…. I yelled from the loo.  I’m doing Number 1. 

My two wishes in Paris is to see Catherine Laboure, another saint with incorruptible body and spend an evening on my own at an open aired quiet restaurant.  I envision myself watching people passing by while I eat the real French onion soup, French baguette, slowly sipping coffee and smoking freely without anyone wagging their fingers at me. 

Oui-oui, très bien.