Travel is interesting in part because you never know what will come day-to-day. The boys have made friends with a boy in their class from Madrid named Fernando. The three of them have done a fair amount of hanging out together (and are, at this moment, out Velib-ing). Yesterday evening, the boys wanted to get together with him again, so they made plans to meet him and his Dad at the Trocadero (directly across the Seine from the Eiffel Tower) at 7 p.m. Suzie and I decided to go along to make sure they got there OK, and they also wanted us to meet Fernando’s dad.
We timed our journey perfectly, arrived at 7 and found them immediately (no small feat given the fact that like most Metro stations, the Trocadero station has a large number of exits, and I simply guessed right about which was the “main” exit). His Dad, also named Fernando, is a college professor in Madrid, but was nothing like we expected. He was much younger than we’d thought, and a very pleasant mix of somewhat shy and yet very friendly. Also along was a young woman named Bianca, who was very friendly and who spoke English very well, in addition to being bilingual in French and Spanish, owing to the respective nationalities of her parents. Fernando had been staying with Bianca in Paris before his father arrived; we think (although it was never said and we are not certain of this) that Bianca is the girfriend of Fernando Sr. In any event, both Fernando Sr. and Bianca were quite charming.
We didn’t all quite know what to do, so we walked over to the Eiffel Tower, thinking we might walk up the stairs to the first level, but even the line for that was very long. So we ambled slowly down the Champ de Mars, where they were setting up for tonight’s free concert and fireworks display. Here we all are (except me, who cleverly manages to stay behind the camera most of the time):
After a time we we decided to get away from the crowds and go sit at a cafe and have drinks, so we walked south and east and finally found a place on the Avenue de Suffren, across from Ecole Militaire. We were served by a very friendly waiter who joked with Andrew about his hesitancy to speak French. (Andrew wanted a peach iced tea, and struggled to communicate that to the waiter, even though it was apparent to everyone else that the waiter understood exactly what he wanted; when the waiter had finished taking everyone else’s order, he told Andrew that he had forgotten Andrew’s order and needed to have Andrew repeat it, which caused much laughter among the rest of us but left Andrew a little confused.) We sat for a long time and talked about Spain, and Alaska (where Bianca had been a student for a summer), and California, and Paris, and Madrid, and schools, and learning new languages; were almost dive-bombed by a retarded pigeon; and generally had a leisurely, civilized, friendly, warm conversation. It was just perfect, the very thing we had hoped to find in Paris, and it had come about completely by accident.
We eventually left the cafe, as it was getting dark and we all needed to get back home. We walked to the nearest Metro station and all said goodbye, the end of a very nice evening.
Today is July 14, the big French national holiday, and we watched the coverage of the big parade down the Champs Elysees this morning. The French do know how to put on a pageant (and surprisingly, they do seem to love their tanks, soldiers, and airplanes). Tonight we are going to try to return to the area around the Eiffel Tower to watch the “feu d’artifice” (which are supposed to be spectacular) and take in the free concert. Those that know me know I’m not really a night person, but this may be the only time I’ll be able to see such a thing in such a place.
I leave you with another Metro picture, this one taken in the dying light at one of the few above-ground stations. I don’t know why I am so fascinated with the Metro, but I am, probably because I admire its efficiency.
A demain.
Categories: Travel -- France