Friday the 13th

My time in Paris is running out.  I want to lie, face down on the apartment floor and bang my hands and feet in rage and scream I don't want to go.

Une enfant, the French would call me, a child,  but that is how I feel.

Now that reality has hit, I need to start getting things in order, start packing up, send some items home by post, not that it will relieve my suitcase of much weight, contact the Paris Furnished Apartments office to arrange an inspection of the apartment before I leave and be sad and miserable, after all it is Friday the 13th.

After posting a box home to myself,  I decided to visit the office of Paris Furnished Apartments in person.  Fanny was absolutely charming, as is Clement and the rest of the crew at the office, they are friendly, helpful and kind, maybe that is one of the reasons I keep renting apartments from them.  As we chatted away, I offered a few of my Parisian tips, including the Hotel du Nord and was on my way.

Rather than being miserable and thinking of leaving, I decided to be in the moment and visit an exhibition after the chores were done.  The wonderful thing about Paris is it never seems too late to head out and do something. Now it was time for Paris and me.

The Grand Palais was offering an exhibition from the Stein family collection and in particular Gertrude Stein.  Viewing some wonderful art by Picasso and Matisse and learning about her prolific collection and support of these artists and others, her salons and life in Paris was fascinating and well worth the visit.

When I left the exhibition, the cold night air hit me but I still decided to walk the 3kms home, I wanted to walk over the left bank via the magnificent Pont Alexandre III, the Alexandre the 3rd bridge.  Beautiful, gold, sparkling and ornate with a bird's eye view of the Grand Palais and the Eiffel tower, beaming golden against the night sky.

Wondering what I would do for dinner as I shivered along the banks of the Seine, I decided to say hi to  my mates,  the lovely, Camel and always bright and cheery Everest at L'etoile Manquante,  just two doors down from my favourite bar and around the corner from home.

Settling down into the warm bistro with a warm welcome, chatting away to Camel & Everest, I sat at the bar, tucked into to a lovely dinner with a couple of glasses of French red wine and tried not to think about leaving.

For the moment, I am still here in Paris, the city I love.