Hmmm. One week in Italy or one day in Paris? A no-brainer, except my brother Skip had a free day before work in Paris. Still…a tricky call. Then I received disconcerting health news about a friend in Ohio. As a hospice volunteer, one is privy to words of the dying. Most are not spoken with regret of a life without career success, or exotic travel adventures, or even monetary gain. More often they express love for family and friends and wishes that they would have made more time for them. Or had been more accepting. I reflected on this as I bought my ticket to Paris.

Rue Montorgueil

Oui, in Paris

Skip knocked on my hotel door with a bottle of Riunart champagne in hand. Bubbling with French effervescence, and a “skip” in our step, we made our way to a restaurant he found online, Chez Delphine. In a previous post, I mentioned a discussion with a former travel writer for the Lonely Planet guides: Before the internet salaried writers were informed, spending several weeks at a destination — exploring, sampling, and speaking with locals. Now, online reviews are predominantly just opinions. Fortunately, Chez Delphine was the kind of place that upon entering one sighs and smiles inside saying, “Oh yeah. This is going to be good.” It had a cozy ambiance, exquisite cuisine, and affable service. We continued our evening têtê à têtê at a sidewalk cafe. So French.

The next morning, Skip led the way to the bustling pedestrian-only Rue Montorgueil and a Saturday market nearby.

Je ne comprends pas…

Vegetarian bird Tongue?

Breads, meats, cheeses, fish, and more, overflowed the stalls. Stopping me in my tracks was what looked like Southern or Caribbean cooked greens. If I hadn’t just devoured five plates of breakfast at the hotel buffet (which is why I prefer a la carte), I would have ‘got me some o’ dat.’

Auditorium

Marc Chagall ceiling

Neither of us had been to the Palais Garnier,  setting of the legendary “Phantom”, of the Opera”. I insisted on the audio tour.

Grand Foyer

One may not remember all the informational tidbits, but it enlivens the experience. So, we listened and wandered to the fascinating history of the Opera House. Every inch of the place was jaw-dropping. Like the restaurant, we left feeling fulfilled. Well, I did. Skip was being assaulted by a stomach flu.

,

Before we went parted I amusingly noted, “We’re in Paris and didn’t see the Eiffel Tower!” Yet, in twenty four hours we toasted champagne, tasted fine cuisine, passed an evening at a sidewalk cafe, meandered through a Saturday market, and beheld an amazing feat of art and architecture. It was only one day brother, but one that we’ll always remember.

On the way to the airport, I see it!       la Tour Eiffel

“Blood’s thicker than mud, it’s a family affair.”  – Sly and the Family Stone