I’m sorry I haven’t posted in a bit. All is well, I’ve just been busy with friends, and also, resting.

I’m settled in and comfy here in my airbnb in Le Marais, very near la Place de La Bastille. The obelisk monument is my neighbor, reminding everyone of the French Revolution of 1789 – and the freeing of what I believe were 9 prisoners from la Bastille, defying the King.

July was a popular month for that sort of thing, non?

And, on that note, I heard the French fighter planes all morning, practicing for the events of what is known here as le 14 juillet (le quatorze juillet), and what Americans often call « Bastille Day. » I was here last year on this day, and had the most spectacular « seat » to view the planes all morning. I don’t know what I’ll be doing this year, but I know I’ll be near a lot of the activities.

The flying was interrupted by a sudden thunderstorm, but at the moment, the sun is shining again, and the apéro hour approaches.

Update: I just learned there is to be no parade this year for le 14 juillet because of the Olympics. Makes sense. There’s Tour de France, the elections, the Olympics, le 14 juillet. It’s a lot.

Back to discussing my apartment.

This building clearly has ancient roots, based on my ceiling and all wooden beams – still exposed between the plaster. It must be like 12th Century. It’s just crazy that I can touch all of this – which I do, wondering who all lived here over these hundreds of years. The stairs (which you know I have a thing for here in Paris), and the exposed beams and old stone are all remarkably intact. I hope to learn more this week because I signed up for a walking tour here in Le Marais, which is (one of) the oldest part of Paris. I wonder if we’ll walk by my apartment?

Just to let you know, my feet have felt heavenly since that massage. Why didn’t I try that before now? Never occurred to me. The feet will be more than tested tomorrow, as I’m heading to Montmartre in the morning for a street photo session. Can’t wait! But it means cobblestones and hills and not much else. Oh, apparently, the Métro stop (Abbesses) is the deepest in the city. How deep? So deep, they offer an elevator. Stay tuned.

Quiet Evening

Tonight, I was in the mood for a burger, maybe. I don’t know. There’s a great restaurant – maybe 100 feet from my door. I decided to pop in for a quick bite, and then come right home.

Ok, that’s not what happened.

Upon arriving at the restaurant, I noticed the crowd. I glanced at the time, and was surprised. Parisians do not eat this early, and it seemed too busy for Happy Hour on a Tuesday night. There was a line to get in, and every table was full. I couldn’t figure it out, so I thought I’d stand in the line for a bit. That’s when the « manager » came out and started asking people how many were in their party. He came to me, and I said, juste moi. What? OK – for you, I have a seat! He pulled me out of line and sent me upstairs and said I could take a seat at the bar and enjoy the match.

OMG! The Match! Soccer! World Cup! What day is it again?

There weren’t really a lot of seats at the small bar, but there was a place to stand. The barkeep was super friendly and she and I became fast friends. A French gentleman offered me his seat. He was there with friends. The game hadn’t started, but the place was packed. I asked « Eleanore » (bartender) to recommend a beer for me, and she did. It was a blonde. Couldn’t resist.

About the time I was going to order something to eat, I realized the KEY to my apartment was missing on the ring. OMG. I know you all know the level of panic I felt. A million thoughts raced through my head. I hadn’t been anywhere, done anything, left the room. The men at the bar all helped me search, but no luck. Well, this was awkward. I had to text my landlord, and tell her. <sigh> She was like, « Noooooooooo! » which wasn’t a good sign.

These keys here are HUGE. I think she said it costs 100 euros to make one, and they were already down one because the last tenant lost a key. Oh, I felt like a heel. And you know how bad it sounds to hear yourself say, « I’ve never had this happen to me before. » Really, does that ever matter? And is anyone ever really going to say – omg I do this all the time?

I continued my search. I went down the stairs to the entrance and looked all around. The match was going strong. Everyone was focused upwards on the screen except me. My eyes were on the floor. I went back upstairs, deciding I’d have to go. I made arrangements to meet the landlord at a nearby restaurant where her husband was watching the match. They were about to give me the ONLY existing key. Everyone at the bar felt bad. I headed downstairs. I saw the manager who’d pulled me in and told him I’d lost my key – and before I asked if he’d found one, he reached into his back pocket and with a smile, pulled out my key! I was overjoyed!

I went back upstairs to tell my new friends, and everyone cheered, which was more cheering than they’d been doing for the match. I stayed for another drink.

So, yeah, this was my QUIET night at a local restaurant. I stayed for another drink, and watched the rest of the match. Sadly, France did not win