EBYD is a blog spot to talk travel and share experiences about places far from home, in the greater Southwest or right in our own backyards.
Paris...the City of Lights and the City of Love!
The special (French)man in my life is here visiting from Paris for the month of February...so excited! His visit has inspired me to share our Paris love story described in the following travel essay entitled, Saint Anne, Find Me a Man! (a "Paris" version of love and travel inspired by one of my favorite books "Eat, Pray, Love," by +Elizabeth Gilbert ). I also thought this story apropos of the upcoming Valentines's Day holiday.This story is my first foray into creative writing and is the beginnings of my travel memoir I'm writing about finding love (over 40!) and our long distance relationship. I would love your feedback! Today's blog is Part 1, to include Chapters 1 and 2. The remaining chapters I'll share next week.
~ Merci!
Saint Anne, Find Me a Man!
Chapter 1 – La Prière (The Prayer)
When I visited Paris for the first time I was 41 and still
not married. The idea of me being over 40 and still single was incomprehensible
to my friend of advanced years, Mary Jane. A devout Catholic, she was from an
era when getting married was just something a woman does in life. Luckily, she
married well.
“Are you married yet?” would be one
of the first things out of her mouth during one of our bi-annual visits. I’d
try to explain away my seemingly horrible life circumstance and current
spinsterhood by telling her how I had met someone online and it was going well.
During one visit in December, Mary Jane interrupted
my poor attempts to explain my singleness and said matter-of-factly, “You need
to pray to Saint Anne.” Not being of the Catholic faith, I was unfamiliar with
this patron saint. Mary Jane explained Saint Anne was the holy mother of Mary
and grandmother of Jesus. Catholics regard her as patron of mothers, as well as
for relationships.
This time Mary Jane was emphatic and said, “You
must start praying to Saint Anne!” She then recited her version of the prayer:
“Saint Anne, Saint Anne,
Find me a man as quickly as you can!”
Mary Jane was certain if I prayed I would soon meet
someone and get married before it was too late.
Chapter 2 – Joie de Vivre!
Five months after my visit with Mary Jane, I was on
a plane to Paris .
During the five months my relationship, that began online, had ended so I was
looking forward to a girls’ trip filled with adventure, French food, museums,
shopping…and no men! I had almost forgotten about the prayer.
Carole, my friend and travel
companion, and I were staying in a roomy two-bedroom flat in the creative area
of Paris’ left bank, Saint-Germain-des-Prés. We
rented the second bedroom from Karen +Karen Ely, a family friend, who was on an extended
stay in Paris . After
a few days of mega sightseeing and checking off the itinerary, I was ready for
a relaxing and schedule-free day. My only goal was to enjoy the city and
explore my neighborhood by foot (a must when visiting Paris !)
I
left the flat, walked through the courtyard and opened the heavy, beautiful and weathered blue door that was the only thing separating me from the wonderful world happening right on the other side. I closed the door behind me and my Paris adventure began.
The door to the courtyard that led to our Paris flat...blue doors are all over Paris! |
Within walking distance were Luxembourg
Gardens , Sorbonne
University , the famous café Les Deux
Magots, and the oldest church in Paris ,
Saint-Germain-des-Prés. These were all places I wanted to see and
experience.
After two hours getting lost in a used bookstore on
my street, I made it to Boulevard Saint-Michel and headed toward the Sorbonne.
As I walked a feeling of happiness and anticipation came over me. I was in awe
of everything – the architecture, the history, the people and the fact that I
was actually in Paris !
My moment of wonder was interrupted by my nagging
bladder. I was now on a mission for la
toilette! I walked a little further and found myself on the Place de la
Sorbonne, a courtyard area in front of the university lined with shops,
restaurants and tourists. Among the restaurants was
Le Tabac de la Sorbonne, a brasserie
and shop that sells cigarettes, newspapers and postage stamps. I thought I’d kill two
birds with one stone and get stamps for my postcards and use their restroom
(finding a WC you can actually use in Paris
can be tricky!)
As I walked out of the brasserie, I had a strong feeling I
should stay and eat lunch. I chose a table on the edge of the terrace facing
the Sorbonne. As I sat, I gazed at the university and dreamed of being a
student living in Paris .
The thought of such a wonderful possibility flooded my mind and body with a
feeling of extreme happiness; it was happiness hopped up on a double espresso! I
almost clapped my hands in excitement, like a child on Christmas morning
discovering what Santa had left under the tree. I tried to contain my joie de vivre but instead squeaked out a
high-pitched “eeeee,” audible evidence of my delight that was overheard by
tourists sitting at the next table.
Then something happened. My world and the world
around me stopped and I felt a higher sense of awareness. Everything around me was
crystal clear and perfect. I experienced a transcendence of space and time. I
had never felt such peace and utter contentment in my entire life. In that
moment I felt whole and complete, lacking nothing. This
was beyond happiness, this was something else. (Was it sheer joy, blissfulness?
Or was it, as Maslow describes, a “Peak Experience?” Looking back, I believe it
was a connection with the divine.)
My moment of bliss was interrupted by “Bonjour!" The waiter had come to take my
order.
“Avez-vous choisi?” I
had barely looked at the menu so I took a quick glance, smiled and in my broken
French said, “Bonjour. Parlez-vous anglais?” The
waiter, friendlier than I had expected, smiled too and said, “I do pretty
well.” Oh thank God, I thought to myself, he speaks English! I ordered the Quiche Du Jour.
Although my magical moment had fleeted, I was still gleaming and I was
now aware of my surroundings, including the cigarette smoke coming from one
table over. How had I not noticed someone smoking near me? I knew only joy
could have distracted me from such an assault on the senses.
My view of the Sorbonne University in Paris |
Luckily, the smoke cleared while I enjoyed my
memorable lunch. My waiter came to clear the table and struck up a
conversation.
“Are you a student or here on vacation?” His
English was pretty good and we understood each other despite our accents. I
explained I was American and was in Paris
on vacation with a friend, who was exploring Monet’s gardens, and I’d decided
to stay and tour the neighborhood instead. We chatted a bit, I introduced
myself and he said, “I’m Stéphane.
I can give you and your friend a small tour of Paris , if you’d like? Call me the day after
tomorrow.” He wrote his phone number on a small slip of paper and handed it to
me.
I
was surprised by his offer. I’d thought to myself, could this be a kind gesture
from a friendly Parisian waiter? Impossible! I laughed to myself and thought
how many friendly waiters are there in Paris
anyway? I was sure Stéphane had tried this with many single girls who ended up
sitting at one of his tables. But then I thought…who knows, I am in Paris ! I kept the slip of paper and tucked it
into one of the used books I’d bought, just in case. To Be Continued...
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