After lunch we head a little further into le Marais. We are meeting Richard from Eye Prefer Paris at the Saint Paul metro stop. There is still a bit of time before we meet so we duck into Saint Paul Saint Louis. As most all churches in Paris and throughout Europe, it is awe inspiring.
After our visit to Saint Paul Saint Louis, we head over to the metro stop and await Richard. I recognize him immediately, he looks just like his blog photos.
We are taking the gourmet food tour with Richard. He lives in the Marais and knows all the best places.
Our next stop is Boulangerie Au Petit Versailles du Marais. Hot chocolate and apple tart must haves. Beautiful inside and unbelievably delicious.
This photo kind of sums up the days in Paris. Food and camera. No, it is not unusual to carry a baguette in your purse. It is quite expected in Paris.
This apple tart was the best in my life. I know I say that about all of them, but it really was! It was sweet and buttery and flaky and warm. Impossible to eat without a million crumbs but worth it.
From apple tarts to Foie Gras. Not a recommended transition by the way.
I knew it would have to carry it the rest of the night, but the fruit was irristible. These green plums, amazing. I ate an entire container. Not all in one sitting of course. That would not be a good idea having been mobile the entire day.
Our very own cheese man. Scruptious cheese, packaged carefully, another few ounces to carry the rest of the night. Please wrap it tightly as not to cause whispers and stares.
Onward, past Au nom de la Rose. Such lovely little arrangements.
And onward past all the beautiful little Marais details.
A lone grapewine in the heart of Paris.
I almost didn't come out of here. Loads of lovely ephemera and chotskies.
Hmmmnnn, sure could use some wheels about now. I am not feeling my feet any more.
We complete our tour and head through another little area, Village St. Paul, a beautiful Jewish part of the Marais. Part of the story of Les Miserables takes place in this part of Paris. You can feel the history on these streets. I find a perfect smoky quartz with marcasite ring. Another sweet little token of Paris.
We are starving and stop in Les Philosphies. Another amazing meal with entertainment. The waiters are beautiful, charming and funny. They know how to treat us American women. Cheeky, but reserved. Perfect.
We make our way back toward the river and the apartment. We have been going since early morning. I haven't felt my feet in hours. We pass a sock store and I duck in to find a pair of socks to put a layer between my skin and the leather shoes that are eating a hole in my ankle. Amazing what a thin layer of cotton can do. Socks and flats are not the most Parisian of fashion combinations, but I don't care. I contemplate something of a crazy color or pattern but stick with a pretty, black lacy pair. Sexy socks. Do those two words even work together in a sentence?
We arrive at the river and Notre Dame just in time to watch the setting sun light up the facade warm orange and then slowly sink down behind le Conciergerie. I have a hard time moving from the bridge. I am mesmerized thinking of how many times Marie Antoinette watched it go down wondering if that would be the last time she would see it.
We bumpily (large bicycle basically, no shocks to speak of, plastic seat but better than walking on the stubs that used to be feet at this point) breeze past Assemblee Nationale, Pont de la Concorde, Les Invalides and on to the Eiffel Tower.
We also see the entrance to the tunnel in which Lady Diana was killed. Such a sad bit of history. The anniversary of her death was just a few days ago. Hard to believe it has been 17 years since she left this earth. The monument area was filled with flowers and cards.
We are coming back up the right bank and now heading toward Champs Elysees. This wasn't part of the deal and our behinds are numb. Turns out, the bicycle is partially battery powered and the battery is about to die. We are heading back to the garage for a change of battery. We whiz through Champs Elysees past LaDuree and all the very high end brands. We arrive and sit in front of the garage in an area just off the Champs Elysees. High end but off the main boulevard and a bit seedy. Should we be concerned? Several dozen scenerios run through our minds. Can I even feel my feet to run? Is is possible to fend off a French man with a baguette and green plums? Maybe the smell of the cheese that has been in our purse for a couple of hours now? Can we run into the Louis Vuitton store quickly? How far back are the macarons? If I die in Paris, can I stay here?
Turns out we are safe. Our peddler gets us back to the left bank and drops us off right at our door.
We collapse into the apartment after our final beating, the 78 spiral stairs race to beat the motion sensors. I check my messages and find that a very important document that I sent from work before taking off on my vacation, did not get to the recipients. I spent the next two hours tracking down my son to go to my home office and resolve the issue. Turns out that I hit "Send" but closed by computer while the email was still in the to send queue. As soon as he opened my laptop the email arrived in the recipients' in boxes.
I don't remember anything after that. The numbness in my feet went to my head. Off to bed to rest up for more feet numbing adventures tomorrow. We held true to our "we can sleep when we are dead" motto today. What an adventure!