Tuesday 21-10 - The waiting game

We had planned to see the catacombs but Janelle wasn´t feeling well. So Caryn and I decided to meet at the Musee D´Orsay. It was a cold and rainy day I got there first at 11, the meeting time. The queue was huge, even longer for the umbrellas. I joined whiled I was waiting.



The rain fell in the cold and half an hour passed. No word. Stilling waiting in the long and winding line.



An hour passed. I was now at the front of the line, but no Caryn. I let the rest of the line pass in front of me. She finally appeared after an hour an forty five minutes. She had brought with her a Frenchmen by the name of Jullian, that she met at the party the previous night. They explained that the tardiness was his fault for sleeping in. We all made piece and I finally got out of the cold wet air.

I love the D´Orsay. I could go back there again and again. Caryn had never seen it before. It was fun to see the happiness on a face as they discover each room and each new famous piece. I loved it, but was also looking at my watch. I hadn´t grabbed any breakfast before queuing and was now starving. So as much as I wanted to stay and see the art, my eye was on the clock.



We saw the important pieces and walked down the streets to find food. Jullian took us to his favourite patisserie where we got rolls,followed by chocolate pastries. We walked further and sat at a cafe for coffee. We sat outside to watch the rain fall.





We walked down the road. I enjoyed the streets just after the rain. They shimmered. The roads formed great lakes that mirrored the endless neon above.





Caryn and I parted ways from the boy.At the shopping district Caryn found a hair straightener and I found a blue top with pandas on the back. We walked down streets until we found the pompidou. Then Caryn found shoes.



We met up with Jullian and his friends at a local bar. It was a really authentic place. No English speakers except for us. The walls were covered in brown and an ocean of passport photos. There were also old lack and white pics stuck up everywhere.



We got a cheese plate to tide us over until dinner. Then an accordion player came along to perform her songs for us all. She sang only is Hungarian, Polish and Yiddish.





We moved on to the Jewish area, where we got crispy chicken kebabs. I don´t know what the spices were, but they tasted good.

Our final stop was at a grungy bar with lots of character. I think this is the type of place I would hang out at if I lived in Paris. The walls were red with street signs and gig posters. The chairs and stools were all mismatched and second hand. It had charm. Down a small staircase was a tiny gig room where a French act sung Blister in the sun. Only Caryn and I seemed to actually know the words. We sung along.





The others walked me back to the station. The next day we would do the catacombs. I jokingly warned them if they were late I would go without them. We parted ways.