It’s Thursday, and my 5th-ish day here, maybe 6th.

Today, I took the bus to Musee d’Orsay because I had a timed ticket for the Edvard Munch exhibition. I was going to walk, because the app said it was only 23 minutes away. That didn’t seem possible. I asked a woman waiting, and she said, « Oh non… c’est loin! » She also told me I was at the wrong stop! I needed to be en face d’ici. Lol! I dashed across the street to wait there. Grateful to the kind woman, pointing out my error. I love the CityMapper app, but sometimes it tells you that you’ve arrived, and you kinda’ sorta’ really didn’t.

It was the right decision not to walk. I had opted for the bus before leaving my apartment, knowing I’d been on my feet for hours at the museum. Smart move.

Purchasing a timed ticket was another smart move (I was on a roll), because there was a line, but I was ushered into the building right away. I’m glad I went to see this body of work. I didn’t know very much about Munch’s work, or life, and well, I can’t say that any more. I had paid a little extra for the audio tour, and listened to every single essay available. I just took my sweet time. When I came to the end, I felt so fulfilled. Until I exited and saw some Munch merch (sorry) for sale – which included a piece I had wanted to see, but didn’t. How did I miss it? I turned around and re-entered the exhibit, going against the crowd, tracing my steps. And sure enough, there was an entire ROOM I’d missed, and it included the piece I had really wanted to see.

Yes, he is known for The Scream, a wonderful if not sad and somewhat disturbing piece, given what I now know about Munch’s familial history with depression and mental illness, but it is quite the lithograph, even though it has been memed and mass produced for decades. There were plenty of other wonderful expressions and moods in his body of work.

Then, feeling somewhat parched and ready for a break, I took myself to the Café on the Fifth Floor, à côté de la galerie de l’impressionnisme. Unbelievably, I was seated at the exact same seat/table as the first time I’d visited. I love that place. The waiter was sweet. He practiced his English, and I practiced my French. A win-win, or win-gagnant!

Of course, I toured the Impressionists’ works after I ate.

There was so much more to see, but I was exhausted having been there for 5 hours, so I decided to call it a day. It was dark and I’d been there since 12:30. I made my way in the mist to le Boulevard Saint-Germain for the bus home. AS I stopped to take a few photos, the bus pulled up and people were boarding — but those doors shut and he started rolling away before I got there. I made a dash, and the driver or maybe passengers saw me, so he stopped, allowing me to board. I was relieved, and felt very Parisien in the moment.

Only five or 6 stops till home, and I was standing, so I enjoyed window-watching as we moved through the dark, rainy, reflective Paris streets. I am living near 3 bus stops – so I chose the one in the middle and hopped off at Saint-Sulpice, taking more photos, enjoying the weather.

I’d been wondering if this trip would feel “less than” in comparison to my first trip. Would it live up to the wonder of my first stay here? I couldn’t judge by New Year’s Eve, and getting locked out of my apartment on day 1, but now I can. The verdict is in: I love this city. I think I will forever love this city.