Another Beautiful Day in Paris

What a gorgeous morning! My daughter Nina and I have just exited the Metro near the Place de l’Opera, looking for the airport bus to CDG. After two weeks in France, a good part of it with us in Paris, she’s headed home. And what a sendoff! The gold statues at the top of the Opera are gleaming in the sun, and as we walk around the building we marvel at the exquisite workmanship: every surface is carved, decorated. Flowers, leaves, busts of famous people, heraldic shields; a magnificent eagle over the doorway.

We soon find the bus stop (after a bit of backtracking). She boards, and I slowly walk away, not wishing to embarrass her by staring through the window. Strolling past les grands magasins, Galleries Lafayette and Au Printemps, I see the holiday window decorations are up, and they are marvelous.

I continue up the street, figuring I’ll walk back to our apartment; it’s just too nice to hide underground. Yesterday evening it was raining, and windy, quite nasty as Paula and I were out headed for the Musee Carnavalet. Today the city is clean and bright, with little traffic this Sunday morning, and I stride easily down the wide empty boulevard.

After a bit I stop to check my position. Must be getting closer by now, right? What’s this? I’m further from home? Now I’m tired, and a bit discouraged. The day is still beautiful, the morning still fresh, but I head for the nearest Metro and go home.

As I ride along, crammed in with the other passengers, listening to the clacking and screeching that is included in every Metro ride (no extra charge!), I recall the little incident that we had earlier, as Nina and I rode to the bus stop. A man started playing the accordion in the Metro car. Now, there are a fair number of panhandlers in the Metro, like in every big (and not so big) city. And some solicit money in the cars, so I mentally rolled my eyes at this “invasion.” But the guy was pretty good.

He played a bit, and as he passed by us I dropped a coin in this cup. He glanced in, and said with a big grin, in French, “Ah, now I’m rich!” and laughed. He asked Nina where she was from; I didn’t hear the response, but he stood against the door and played another little piece for us. We laughed, our stop came up, and we got off, but not before I dropped another coin in his cup.

I’d pulled out my cell phone and recorded some of his playing, and Nina made a little video. Find it here (maybe! We haven’t tried this yet):

https://www.dropbox.com/sh/n8sm3ucg0fbdcjp/AABOfa95NmNmqOeowO_M4kY_a?dl=0

‘Till next time,

The PPs

 

Opera Garnier -- Courtesy Google Images