April 12: Avril à Paris

Aujourd’hui, nous sommes en Paris! It’s quite nippy here. I’m beginning to regret the bravura with which I bought into Carey’s “for us, 10 degrees will feel balmy” opinion. I heard what I wanted to hear, which was “only take the light stuff”. As it is snowing in Calgary right now, “balmy” is a reasonable approximation, although I am in both my coats.

We arrived without incident via the Eurostar. It’s a great train, made a bit less great today due to the scent war taking place around us. Seat 65 (we were 61 and 62) had pungent body odour. Then, seat 63 decided to deal with that by pointedly spritzing her (very flowery) perfume three times an hour. By Lille, breathable air was in short supply.

We traveled to Swindon to meet my sister and her family, yesterday. Jackie met us at the station and took us home, to their beautiful “Old Vicarage”. The garden is really looking well, at least as far as we could tell between hail showers. And so are they. Jackie had a real “annus horribilus” last year, including a broken shoulder, tests for her heart and “barn door” pneumonia (an infection so extensive you can’t miss it). It was really good to see her looking so healthy.

They prepared a splendid lunch, served with much Gran Reserva Rioja. With the alcohol flowing, talk turned to politics and definitely became “spirited”. Fortunately myself and Deej rather enjoy that. No bridges were burnt; no feelings hurt. Carey was unable to execute his usual “kick her under the table” duties, because of the seating arrangements, so he simply settled in to enjoy it.

We took an early evening train back into “Town” (London). Our day didn’t end there: we had another splendid meal, with Gareth and long-time friend Andrew at Broadway Market: a fantastic Argentinian restaurant, with a neighbourhood feel and a world-class kitchen. It’s one of Gareth’s favourite spots. The feeling is clearly mutual: hugs on the way in and the way out and a nip for the road for our party, free of charge.

Gareth even got up with us this morning and walked to the station with us, before setting out on his run. It was such a great visit.

Our hotel is near Place de Vosges. It’s an older building with candy-striped awnings, on a small side street. It’s an almost-sunny, almost-warm Sunday evening full of families in the park, friends in the cafés. We have chewy baguettes from a pristine bakery on the corner. Carey has deli meats. I have truly stinky cheese (heaven!). We have just opened a cold beer, which we are drinking on the bed from hotel coffee cups. We are going to simply sit and be this evening: shoes off, window open, light lengthening. We had such a fantastic week, but we have been in so much motion and company since Easter. What we need tonight is quiet companionship. Fortunately, that’s exactly what we can choose.