Wed 9th Sept - Paris

A leisurely morning with perfect blue skies to greet us. The Latin Quarter where we are staying has a laid back vibe. Lots of students but no Scarfie antics to be seen. The student bars actually have an air of sophistication.  All the bars do. Somehow Europe does fun with a sense of subtle aplomb without shambolic overtones. 
The local market is full of fresh produce as fresh and luscious as one will find anywhere. Orange kumara larger than I have ever seen. Fresh meat and seafood galore. And big juicy figs that I could scoff on the spot. Oh thank you, I will. 

At 9.30am it is still quiet, just a few locals selecting their dinner and the stall owners bantering before it gets busy. 

We take petit dejeuner in the morning sun on 'our square' while a couple of old blokes enjoy beer and wine at the bar, solving the issues of the world in slurred French. They, too, have an air of sophistication! It's a French thing. NZ hasn't quite got the knack.  

Two guys at the table next to us are having a business meeting. With tailored everything and enthusiasm bouncing from every word, they appear as excited as two best friends who have just rediscovered a secret from their childhood. They are discussing something to do with Aquanautics and it sounds rather exciting.

With coffee and croissants demolished, we walk through the neighbourhood, which we are liking very much. On through the Luxembourg Gardens, as manicured and beautiful as I remember. I half expect a princess to emerge from behind the very large hedge. Or perhaps a frog prince from the shady fountain tucked behind lilac blooms. Instead we see a female guard with a machine gun. These parks and squares dotted around the city are true havens. Seats are everywhere waiting to welcome weary bodies.  Having tired legs in Paris is not so bad, there will be a seat for refuge a few steps away. I like that people do sit down and smell the roses. And drink the wine.

Metro to the Eiffel Tower. Brett walks up and I sit in the Champs de Mars with nostalgia filling my being. (See separate post on the iconic Tour Eiffel).
We walk along and over the river. Enjoy looking at the houseboats, working works of art, some with their skippers in a state of repose on the stern. We pause a few moments at the memorial for Diana near the tunnel where she died, hearing the news of that still a vivid memory ... I was driving out of the New World Remuera car park! Photos, flowers and notes surround the rather garish gold flame monument. It is not particularly in Diana's style but she would approve of the handful of people pondering her memory in silence. 
Walking up Bvd Montagne we pass the very rich directing their numerous suitcases into limousines. It makes me look like a very light traveller! We reach the Champs Élysées. It's width always astounds me. It might be busy and a little garish but it is always a joy to walk along, the Arc de Triomphe standing proudly to its north west. Onwards to Montmartre ... we climb the steps to the marvellous Sacre Coeur stopping to down a baguette and beer by the beautiful 18th century Venetian carousel half way up.  The Basilica is almost blinding in the sun, with its pristine white exterior. Inside it is dark and rather solemn, a place of reflection and prayer. Outside the people lounge on the grassy banks and more annoying guys are hawking their nasty wares. We wander to the Place du Tetre where the artists are in full swing. Tourists are having their likeness captured by skilled portrait artists. We have an ice cream, savour the atmosphere and take a wine in the shady nook where musicians play. Life is good and the weather is perfect.

I recall my first time in Place du Tetre when I was 15yo - an iconic moment etched in my memory. It's a place I love to visit every time I'm in Paris - even now, nearly 40 years later, it still retains the charm I remember. 
En route back to our apartment we spot an oyster bar on the Bvd St Germain. We take a seat and watch the world go by as we sample French huitres. They don't quite match the Bluff variety, but all is good with life - and the weather too!
We stop to buy some wine.  The young man in the wine shop tells us about various options.  I wish he would tell me about every bottle in the shop ... He has the charisma and good looks of a quintessential French male model, and humble with it. And he knows his wine. Can I take him home with the wine we purchase?!
We find a lively restaurant down a busy side street near our apartment and struggle to finish the enormous meals. The air is warm, the wine is good, the waiter charming and the duck tasty.  We are replete but by no means have we had our fill of things Parisian.

Observation of the Day: Two males, lively conversation, true engagement.  On every corner, at every cafe, in the Metro, on the street, in shops and bars and park benches. It is a joy to behold men of all ages engaging one on one with such animation and joie de vivre. Male bonding, en publique, is alive and well in Paris.