Chicken for Dinner, Tuesday, 17 November

Another normal Paris day; shopping in the morning, Virginia had school in the afternoon and I worked on some writing. We lead a very normal life, visitors, rather than tourists. We did, however, decide to try and get those maps we mentioned in an earlier report. We discovered that there was a MAJOR kiosk for such things near the Madeleine just opposite where they set up the flower stalls. So, off we went. Need I say more? No such place existed. I walked around the church square doing a very thorough search, but all to no avail. I did, however, discover that on Tuesday on the other side of the Church, there is a little food market and I stopped long enough to admire the fresh fish stall. I wonder if this might be a seasonal thing since the number of tourists seems to be down at this time of year; at least the large contingent of North Americans are not here for three reasons. First the exchange rate, for them, is lousy. Second it is winter. And third, schools in the United States are in session except for a two-week break around Christmas. Still, one wonders where the South Americans, Australians, and others are. Don't misunderstand. There are still plenty of tourists, but not the wall-to-wall numbers we have seen in the past. Actually it is quite nice.

Late this afternoon I set out to buy a rotisseried chicken for dinner. I always go to the same place because they seem to understand my terrible French when I ask for a "poulet roti pour sept euro." They probably speak better English than I do French, but humour the mad Australian who is trying to use his few carefully memorized words.

It is coming to the end of the year before the three week Christmas break so all of Virginia's teachers are trying to fast sell the last few weeks of instruction, promising that students are perfectly able to progress to the next level where there is a viable class. It is faintly reminiscent of Virginia at the WEA where she always encouraged those of us who taught in her program to cross-sell and pre-sell. What is the old saying? Something like, "it takes one to know one."

While Virginia was at school I hopped aboard the Metro to go down to Saint Michel to get some more reading material. By the time I was ready to come back I decided to take the bus, despite the fact that it was now rush hour. What had taken about fifteen minutes going, took about an hour coming back, but it was worth it. Paris has been called the "City of Lights," and it is clear if you ride on the bus as night falls why that is so. It was a most enjoyable trip. Mind you, I am talking about the lights in the ordinary streets and shops, not the "super-lights" of the Champs Elysees or the other great landmarks. The lights I enjoyed were more homely; more, I felt, of the real Paris.