It’s Friday here in Paris, and it was a beautiful December day. Sunny, crisp, and quite chilly. Perfect.

I saw 3 churches today and wasn’t struck by lightning. No, really, I saw: La Cathédrale de Notre-Dame de Paris, and Sainte-Chapelle both on the Île de la Cité, and then I popped into Saint Paul’s to light a candle. It’s just around the corner from my apartment here in the Marais.

In between, I stopped at a local Marché de Noël next to the well known Bookstore « Shakespeare & Co. » I found a beautiful piece of art – a graphic art poster of Notre Dame. Very striking! The young vendeuse was also the artist, so we had a nice little conversation, and she loved that I loved her work.

Then, I stood in a short line for un vin chaud. Why not! ‘Tis the Season, and all, right? Everyone is shopping, holiday music is playing in the streets, there’s a real chill in the air. Why not! Well, I’ll tell you why not. A lot or reasons why not.

C’était horrible!

Oh, mon Dieu! The vendeur was so stereotypically French, I felt like I was on the set of a movie. Christmas trees for sale on every street corner, bistro lights above, the hustle and bustle, and this guy… fingerless gloves and all, charging 5 euros for a glass of warm wine. Never missing an opportunity to flirt, this man was off the charts. I looked around for cameras. None. OK. It was all in good fun, really. We toasted to our health, and I was on my way. I sat at a nearby bench and started sipping the wine. The hot wine. OMG I don’t have words. The cup suddenly seemed so large. I didn’t know how I was going to do this. There I was in a beautiful little park, trying to figure out how to nonchalantly dump this wine, yet keep the cup. People were passing every which way. Trash bins across from me, but darn, the cup was definitely a keeper. Hmmm…

I sat there for quite a while. Sipping. It wasn’t getting better. There was a man on the bench next to me. Finally, I thought, well, let’s practice some French. So, I asked him if he was French. Yes, he said. Good, then maybe you can help me. I explained the wine was awful. He laughed. I said I was American and didn’t want to have bad manners, so I asked if he thought it would be ok if I dumped it onto the grass behind us. He had another good laugh, and thought it would be alright. So, I dumped the wine, and said Maintenant, vous pouvez dire à tout le monde que vous avez rencontré une Américaine folle dans le parc aujourd’hui. Then, I wished him a bonne journée, and went off to my next stop.

I stopped for a traditional crêpe at a favorite spot located next to one of my favorite streets: rue du chat qui pêche.

I headed home after this, and poured myself a glass of chilled wine (!) a rosé, and started sharing my day with all of you.