It’s day 3, and I feel I’m adjusting well to the time change. It happened faster last time, but it wasn’t New Year’s Eve with my son keeping me out till all hours. I never would have guessed that Rive Droite was more of a Party atmosphere. My neighborhood(s) here on the Left are much quieter in comparison. I know it was New Year’s Eve, and all the tourist attractions are over there, but it was quite a contrast.

I made breakfast for myself in-house this morning, and made a pot of coffee. Not bad. I realized I need milk/cream, which is hard to come by here, believe it or not. (Also, hair conditioner. What’s with that? It’s humid here and us curly haired types need conditioner tous les jours.) I haven’t had a baguette yet, mon dieu, and I need to rectify that. I checked the area for les boulangeries, et voilà there are a few. <sarcasm>

Today, I want to start organizing my thoughts/plans/days a little bit. I did the Eiffel Tower climb just in time yesterday, as Le Sommet closes for repairs and whatnot starting today, and the entire structure shuts down a lot in January. Who knew? Maybe it’s the yearly maintenance/routine.

I’ll be visiting Musée d’Orsay, for sure. Wondering if there are places I should see that I missed last time. Feel free to chime in!

Today it’s a balmy 49 degrees (Fahrenheit) with a chance of rain. Normal for Paris en hiver. I may venture to my old neighborhood, for a few items at Le Grande Épicerie, or not. I’m cozy.

Some thoughts…

Yesterday morning at Le Café Casette, there was a table of three women trying desperately to take a selfie they could all agree upon. It wasn’t working. First of all, the lighting in the café is horrifyingly yellow. The entire ceiling is covered in yellow flowers, and they have yellow bulbs interspersed for greater effect. It’s atrocious for photos. Anyway, I couldn’t bear to see them suffer anymore, so I offered to take photos for them. They were quite particular as to where I should stand, etc. I did my best with their phone(s), but had doubts because of the lighting. I don’t know where they were from, but what intrigued me the most was the fact they were all speaking English with HEAVY accents. I couldn’t get over this. My guess was that they were Italian, based on their designer gear, but why weren’t they speaking in Italian to one another? Why English, in France? I spent most of my coffee pondering this and never did reach a conclusion. P.S. They weren’t happy with my photos either because they continued to go for more selfies.

You see and hear the most interesting things when you’re alone in a café or bistro. Normally, when you’re with friends, you’re too busy chitchatting with one another to take it all in, but when you’re alone, you can really soak up the energy and surroundings.

For another example, while waiting for Thomas the other night at dinner in the 3rd, I arrived early and took a table for us. A woman nearby (American) was speaking to her husband (assumed), but the only thing I could see of him was his one crossed leg out of my peripheral vision. She seemed to know a bit of French, but spoke to her husband in English. She wasn’t loud, really, but had the kind of voice that carries. I heard every word perfectly. She started to talk about other people in the dining room. She declared who knew French, who was American, etc., and even translated what the serveur was saying to others. She was trying to understand why people at another table seemed to be able to speak French, but couldn’t understand their waiter. She got me wondering. Then, she said to her husband, « There’s a woman alone around the corner from you. » My turn! « She’s alone… clearly waiting for someone… maybe two people judging by the place settings. » I didn’t crack a smile or let on that I could hear her. She was describing me to her husband who could not see me. I marveled. I held the menu, and she described that move. I checked my watch, and sure enough, « …she just checked her watch.. they must be late. » This was fun. I wondered if they were trying to find characters for their next novel or something. They left before Thomas arrived, having finished their wine, so I never did find out.

Now I feel like I’m doing what she did.

UPDATE: I bought a baguette, and a petite tomato, mozzarella, and chicken salad. HEAVEN! I was thrilled to be understood and to understand. OK, mostly. Darn it. It’s always a true test in a boulangerie, because the pace is fast, and there’s ALWAYS a line behind you. I haven’t yet gotten used to a few questions, such as « Avez-vous besoin de couverts? » I hesitated… couvert? That means covered… did he mean a lid for my salad? Ugh, before I could think further, he said « knife and fork? » No merci, pas nécessaire.

So close! The meaning of couvert changes drastically when you add an “s” and of course, context is everything. I wouldn’t need to be covered at that moment — but here’s the thing, they are pronounced EXACTLY the same.

Honestly, I’m excited to be understanding spoken French! (Remind me I said that.)

Next time.