Prelude to Paris, Take-Off and Arrival

Well, the last time I was dreaming of Paris, now I'm actually here. But first, let's go back a bit because there's a lot to catch up on since that dream.

August 21: Birthday Girl!
I'm now 59 and officially at the beginning of my 60th year on the planet Earth. Lovely birthday dinner with Lyn, Tyler and Paul with my favorite tomato aspic. Lyn's is the best. I'm sure there were other things to eat but that's what I remember. Eleanor arrived late but not too late to sing "Happy Birthday" and enjoy the wonderful (chocolate on chocolate) birthday cake she had made.

August 25: Italian hospitality.
Katherine Lambert and I spent the weekend with Giovanni and Deborah Frisone at their home on Lake Winnipesaukee. Highlights: a ride on an official U.S. Postal Service mail boat that delivers mail to the islands; dinner at a Thai restaurant that could hold its own with the best in New York; Activia yogurt; and Giovanni's expresso. Deborah, you were right: there are soooo many more flavors of Activia here in Paris than there were in Connecticut. And Giovanni, I have just bought my first bag of LaVazza coffee. This will be one of my few exceptions to buying only French things in France! Of course, this is getting harder and harder to do, what with all this globalization . . . but I digress.

August 29: Thank you, T&E staff!
With pizza and cake and Gift from the Sea by Anne Morrow Lindberg.

August 30: Celebration now!
Dinner with Hartford T&E lawyers (Steve, Lyn, Coleman, Bryon, Danielle, Jen), Styvie from the Lakeville office, and Eleanor at The Pond House Cafe to celebrate my retirement and Styvie's 70th birthday. I wanna look like him when I'm 70 (to say nothing of skiing and rock climbing and general merriment). Styvie is such a contradiction: profane and holy. In one breath, he's promoting depravity; in the next, he's discussing the Gospel of John. Absolutely amazing gift from the group: a gift certificate to the spa at the Georges V hotel in Paris! A perfect send-off.

August 31: Good-bye for now.
Today was my last day at the wonderful law firm of Shipman & Goodwin and my last day as a practicing lawyer. On to new adventures. I choked up when Tom Purcell stopped by to say "good-bye" perhaps because it was so unexpected. Donna Pompeii made an amazing (chocolate on chocolate, again!) cake: "A bientot Shipman & Goodwin." Said good-bye to good friends, although I don't really feel it is good-bye. Dinner with Lyn and Joan at the Firebox Restaurant: the best with the best.

September 1: Happy 80th Birthday, Ruth!
Longtime (30 years) friend and client, Ruth Douglass, will be 80 on September 11th, of all days, so we celebrated her birthday tonight at Bricco's.

September 3: Dinner on the Lake.
Lovely dinner with Dona, Roland, Shirley and Meghan overlooking their lake.

September 4: Packing, packing, packing - and leaving.
Seems as though I will never have everything organized but finally I do. Leave for airport at about 3 p.m. Fortunately, Eleanor's friend Pete is driving me to JFK. He is such a great guy, and it makes the trip to NY stress-free (for me anyway!). We arrive at about 5:30 and my flight doesn't leave until 10:10 p.m. So naturally I spend part of that time hanging out in the Hudson Booksellers shop and buy two books: M is for Malice by Sue Grafton and Digging for America by Anne Tyler. Malice is about a T&E attorney, a missing heir, and an actual mention of the deferral of estate tax under IRC Section 6166. Digging involves two families who have adopted children from Korea. OK, so I guess I haven't actually left the practice of law completely behind. Good news: I have ordered a vegetarian dinner on the plane so I am served before everyone else and fall quickly to sleep.

September 5: Paris, ready or not, here I am!
Arrive in Amsterdam, another security check and then frantic run to catch connecting flight. Well, maybe not frantic but definitely rushed although I arrive at gate with 15 minutes to spare and then the plane waits a while longer for other connecting passengers. This was reassuring. I was cursing myself for not booking a direct flight; however, as I discover, there are definite advantages to arriving in Paris from Amsterdam rather than from JFK. As it was a "local" intra-EU flight, there were only a handful of people waiting for checked baggage so the atmosphere was very calm in baggage claim as opposed to the usual pushing and shoving with vast numbers of people at the international baggage claim. Also, The Netherlands requires no immigration declaration and apparently France doesn't require one of passengers arriving from another EU country so absolutely no customs scrutiny when leaving baggage claim. I saw two customs officers when leaving the area but they couldn't have looked less interested in the people passing through! Again, I am impressed with the fact that luggage carts are free in Europe whereas in New York you have to pay for them. It must be so incredibly annoying, to say nothing of impossibly difficult, for international passengers arriving in the US.

I immediately spot the cute young man holding a sign with my name on it! Who wouldn't? He takes my luggage cart and we have a short walk to the van. Easy drive into Paris after first passing through the industrial and commercial banlieu. I can tell immediately when we have entered la vraie Paris because everything starts to look so familiar. We pass through the 19th, the 10th (Gare de l'Est), the 3rd and then finally the 4th. Past the Centre Pompidou and we are immediately at rue de la Verrerie at almost precisely 3 p.m. The driver has phoned Christos so he is waiting for us.

The apartment building (number 77) is on the corner and the street is restricted to pedestrians so the van cannot park. Christos helps with the luggage, points out the two supermarches, explains the keypad and the keys to the building, and then carries my two largest suitcases up three flights of stairs as though he were on wings. I of course have to leave my rolling carry-on (with laptop) at the bottom of the stairs (Christos comes back to get it) while I stagger up with my other carry-ons (backpack, Kangaroo bag and Hudson Booksellers bag!). Needless to say, pas d'ascenseur. I have only myself to blame; I knew this was a fourth floor (troisieme etage en francais) walk-up and welcomed the chance for some aerobic exercise. Little did I realize how much!

The apartment is better than the photos on the internet site (Paris Attitude). One large, bright room, tastefully though not lavishly furnished. Three floor to ceiling windows along one wall; I open one window and I'm looking down upon rue du Renard where I lived in the summer of 1967 (wish I could remember street number). I turn my head to the right and catch my breath: there is La Cathedrale de Notre Dame in plain view along with the top of the Hotel de Ville. The Centre Pompidou is one block to the North; Ile de la Cite is two blocks to the South; an amazing location.

The place is immaculate. I love the tiny kitchen which contains all one needs within a space of about 2' by 5' (I just laid down on the floor to measure the length). A tiny refrigerator, a clothes washing machine (which also dries the clothes after washing), a tiny cupboard between them for la poubelle, the counter on top with two burners, a sink and a microwave. The drainboard (for washing dishes) sits on tops of the burners. Above the burners is an exhaust hood, and the rest of the wall space is taken up with a series of shelves and hooks for pots and pans, plates, bowls, cassaroles, silverware, drinking glasses, mugs, wine glasses, utensils and other whatnot. Brilliantly efficient. We need to incorporate some of this aux Etats-Unis.

Behind the kitchen is the bath with sink, shower, and toilet. On one wall, a locking medicine cabinet (never saw one of those before!). Small plastic baskets hanging on the wall for shampoo, toothbrush and so forth.

The main room has a sofa bed, a collection of chairs (black leather and chrome), a set of low bookshelves (un etagere) painted black, a black and white checked rug covering part of the floor (large terrazzo tiles), a table which I'm using as a desk but could double as a dining table for entertaining, a television on a rattan and chrome table, a radio/CD player sitting on a set of three nesting glass tables.

Christos shows me how to open the sofa bed. Later I make the bed with a bottom sheet that (in typical European fashion) isn't large enough to tuck in anywhere but the bottom. I must say I'm a big fan of fitted sheets but they don't seem to have made major inroads into the European market. Why couldn't we export something useful like that instead of McDo's. There is a duvet cover in a pattern of large reddish squares that echo the tiles on the floor. Pillow covers to match. I have brought my own pillow which is a spot of white between the others. I plan to leave the sofa bed open as it would be a waste of precious time in Paris to close it up everyday.

There are so many little cupboards and closets in the apartment that I have no trouble putting everything away. Before long, I am completely unpacked, settled in and making a list of things I need (shampoo, lotion, soap). Shower and change clothes. Take a little walk dans le quartier and check out the two grocery stores. One is larger and has a more complete stock of things but the smaller one has more flavors of Activia yogurt (thank you, Deborah and Giovanni!) so I will probably use them both. Today I buy: Meusli, yogurt (vanilla), an apple, some figs, blueberries and a bottle of water. I spend a lot of time perusing the varieties of Meusli: most of them appear not to be French (Kellogs is very big here) but I finally find one from Belle France. Trudge back to #77 and up the stairs with my purchases (water is heavy!). Decide I am trop fatigue to go out for dinner so have big bowl of Meusli with yogurt and blueberries. Drink LOTS of water to rehydrate after flight. Call Jed, Eleanor, Lyn. Read. Go to bed. And so the first day endeth.