But I'm in Paris - one of the world's great cities. And I have the day to myself. So snap out of it (said in a Cher voice).
I grab a hotel umbrella and set out. I'm on the left bank (I'm a left banker in both head and heart) and my first stop is my favorite boulangerie on St. Germain. I grab two pains au chocolat; the theory being that I'll eat one now and save one for later. I devour the first one, savoring it's sublime buttery and chocolatey goodness, while walking down the leafy St. Germain. Without even having so much as an internal discussion with myself, I start into the second "save for later" one and before I'm a block away, it too is gone. I better walk faster.
I'm enjoying walking with an umbrella. It provides more than just protection from the elements - it's also a walking stick and it empowers me like I'm wielding a club. Okay, simmer down Hercules.
I'm also noticing that people are looking at me and smiling faintly. What's happened to my deliciously stand-offish Parisians? Why are people smiling at me? Is it my umbrella wielding bravado or do they sense my home sickness?
Anyhoo, my attention shifts to the shop windows. Parisians are masters in the art of so many things, including window dressing. A fabric shop displays beautifully textured and colored fabrics. Next to it is a design store, the window display all in white except for one hit of color from bright green cushions, and inside I see a chic lady sitting behind a sleek desk.
I also catch my reflection in the window. What is that? What do I have all over me? Oh good grief, my face is covered in a croissant-crumb beard, there's a smear of chocolate across my cheek, and the debris field continues down the front of my jacket. I'm a mess. No wonder people are looking at me. Those are pity smiles for the simpleton with the crumby face. So the Parisians have not softened after all.
After an extensive dusting off and a face wash at a small fountain, I regroup and head past the Pantheon and the Sorbonne to my beloved Jardin du Luxembourg - my favorite garden in Paris. Even on this gloomy day, it is beautiful and serene. There are teams of gardeners planting flowers. They are kneeling on makeshift scaffolds over the garden to ensure they plant symmetrically. Ingenious.
From there I wander down toward the Seine and stop at Eglise Saint-Sulpice. Even with "Da Vinci Code" fame, this church seems off the radar to many tourists. It is eerily beautiful with a slightly neglected appearance, faded paintings, wooden trap doors in the floor, and many dark nooks and crannies. And the plaque on the wall refuting the "best selling novel's fanciful allegations" about the brass line in the church is amusing.
I head down Rue Bonaparte and wander through Saint-Germain-de-Pres. I cross the Seine over the Pont des Arts - my favorite bridge in Paris with beautiful views. Once, after a particularly big night on the town, I fell asleep on this bridge and woke at sunrise to see a man near me filming three people in some vignette. I'm happy to report that I still had my wallet and all my organs. But I'm probably an unpaid extra in some bad French film.
I wander the Louvre grounds and walk Rue de Rivoli and Rue St. Honoree. My favorite way to lunch in Paris is to buy a sandwich and a pastry at one of the places here and sit on one of the metal chairs around the big fountain in the Jardin des Tuileries next to the Louvre. My favorite shop to grab my picnic lunch is "Yannick Martin" at 302 Rue St. Honoree. It's run by a delightful group of ladies and the food is top drawer.
Because of the weather, I pretty much have the fountain to myself, except for one kid who has rented a toy sail boat and is navigating it around the fountain. What appears to be a very patient parent or nanny is huddled on a chair next to him.
After lunch, I wander the right bank with no destination in mind. My ambling takes me into the courtyard of the Palais Royal with it's geometric sculptures and beautifully treed garden. I also pass the Opera Garnier. I never go by this place without the soundtrack to "Phantom of the Opera" playing in my head. The interior is such an exquisite space but today I resist the temptation to go inside (by the way, my Parisian friends think I'm insane for this view but does anyone else think that the Chagall painting on the ceiling of the opera is a misfit?). I also wander around Place Vendome and later I pass Harry's Bar where I think the Bloody Mary was invented (I also think the night that led to me sleeping on the Pont des Arts began there...).
Eventually, I end up back on the left bank passing the Musee d'Orsay (I love, love, love this museum) and end up at Le Bon Marche - the huge department store. I head into La Grande Epicerie and spend an hour admiring the food so artfully displayed - fresh morels, a dozen types of tomatoes, foie gras, cheese, wine, even poultry with tail and neck feathers attached so you can tell the breed - a foodie paradise. I spring for some nibbly bits and a split of Veuve Clicqout champagne and trek back to the hotel for a rest.
Later that evening, I dine at a brasserie so quintessentially Parisian, it looks like a set from a movie. I have a sublime cream of potato and cheese soup and a hearty cote de veau. I walk back to the hotel along the Seine with Notre Dame and the bridges lit up, so grateful for the day I just had (and also grateful that I'm not having my cholesterol checked any time soon).
I've been to Paris countless times. But today has been one of the most memorable. Paris, you are a delightful date. You never disappoint.
Today reminds me that most of the time, something good to look at, something good to eat, and something to give you a good laugh, make for a great day.
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