Skip to content

A New Yorker In Paris

November 27, 2012

One difference between Paris and New York is that Parisians have leisure built into their day. This is one reason you’d want to hire New Yorkers to scale a mountain, but Parisians to enjoy the view.

Right now I’m brunching at Café Les Artistes where between noon and 2:00 pm here (as well as at every other bistro, bar, restaurant and café in town), everyone congregates to eat, drink wine and shmooze.

Though we’ve yet to meet anyone in Paris, Parisians have met our smiles and stunted speech with smiles of their own and helpful words as well. They seem willing to be friendly with people they don’t know. No haughty or nasty Frenchmen? I am almost disappointed.

Meantime, my body is dragging me around, all short of breath due to the Bronchitis I contracted in Florence.

Parisians:

Smoke

Are thin (perhaps there’s a correlation?)

Are very well put together, like Manhattanites or even more so.

Are racially integrated (at least with Blacks, or so it seems).

Seem unreasonably happy…all that wine and caffeine? Or all that fraternité?

Are less tethered to electronic devices than we are. Hmmm…

Are seated together in restaurants (i.e., parties are seated next to each other). This is in stark contrast to NYC, where we always want to be as far away from each other as humanly possible.

Love to sit outside the café, even on windy, 50-degree nights. At first I think – how hardy! Then I notice many cafés provide a canopy with heat lamps.

Have such well-behaved children! I think I’m in a Mary Poppins set!

Dine together with the kids on weeknights.

Love the good life: Wine and good food, and food for thought, and chocolate…

 

Parisians Go Ape For Chocolate

 

…and most of all they take the time these things require.

Include their share of beggars and homeless, but even they seem to have a kind of dignity.

And Paris seems to be as deep as it is wide. We pass a church today that is surrounded by an archeological excavation from Roman times!

That night, we go to the movies to see Love Springs (“version originale”) with Meryl and Tommy Lee, and the thing that strikes me is how before the feature, the theater runs trailers and commercials, just like in New York. Except that they’re shown with the volume turned halfway down.

Now that’s civilized.

Speaking of civil, I finally decide to do something about my Bronchitis. For this, we have the advantage of being able to call my 10th grade English teacher Hank Resnik, who with his wife Lu (see Telegram From The Future From Hank and Lu) spends several months a year here. (Oh the perks of a long life and the tender tentacles of cultivated friendships! There’s an upside to my inability, or unwillingness, to let go, you know.) Hank speaks to their local physician, a Doctor Neveh, who forthwith agrees to come into the office to see me on her day off. She examines me and prescribes the meds I would have had in the states: An antibiotic and a corticosteroid spray.

She then hands me her bill…for 35 Euros (about $45).

We then take the prescriptions to the pharmacy. Shelley freaks when the woman hands us that bill: 5188! Until we realize it’s for 51.88 Euros, or about $67. So I wind up paying about a third of what a doctor’s visit and these drugs would have cost me in the country I’m actually a citizen of.

To boot, I receive a free chiropractic adjustment, compliments of the Paris Metro, an almost frightfully efficient system. Squeezing into the subway car, I expect the force of an MTA car door, but instead the doors close on me like some kind of horizontal guillotine.

The Metro is not without its charms, however. Here, an ad on a station wall…

 

An Ad In a Metro Station

 

For me, Paris turned out to be anti-climactic. Three days in Venice gave me a good taste of that city. Four days in Florence was enough to inhale its allure and feel it beckon me back for more. But five days in Paris was enough to only begin to scan its sites, discern its charms and have it seep into my senses. It’s a vast banquet, really, and by the time I  sat down and felt my mouth water, it’s about time to go. I liked it, but loved Florence. Paris may be too big for me to fall in love with anyway, after living in New York. I mean, I’ve been here and I’ve done big.

Each is huge, each a city of night. And each is best seen by foot.

Indeed, Paris and New York do a kind of dance together…

New Yorkers may be Francophiles but…

 

I guess the grass is always greener on the other side of the pond.

Now I’m back to my life, and it’s fall and getting faller. Wake me when it’s May.

And maybe Shelley and I will return to Italy and France one spring, if only to defy having only been there in the autumn of our lives.

The Author With Luscious French Maiden

 

Eiffel’s Erection

 

 

 

Advertisements
6 Comments leave one →
  1. November 27, 2012 9:13 am

    An enjoyable read. Paris does indeed take time to get to know. I have visited many times and every return is almost like the first time all over again. Repeat visits to the major tourist icons is never boring, there is always something new to discover. One thing I have learnt is that Parisian pavement culture is a must, you have to sit, observe and absorb. I for one will be going back. I hope that you get back there too, you will surely enjoy. Thanks for sharing your views.

  2. Richard permalink
    November 27, 2012 3:54 pm

    A good taste of Paris from the 1920s can be had in Hemingway’s “A Movable Feast.”

  3. dave abramowitz permalink
    November 28, 2012 4:47 am

    In just a few days, your impressions of Venezia, Firenze and Paris are full of the most perceptive observations. Frequently, a surprising slip of phrase shows you’re really getting the essence and feel of the place. You really reveal a traveller’s eye, a writer’s eye, and sometimes a true poet’s eye and sensibility.

    What a wonderful picture of you and Shelly in Paris. It looks like you could, if you live there, fit right in. It only makes me wonder what you could or would come up with if you really had three or six months to wander off “the trail” and report back. Like the Parisiand and Italians, it seems like you’ve both learned to “live the good life,” yourselves.

  4. Tresa permalink
    November 29, 2012 1:22 pm

    I have never enjoyed vacation photos as much as I love these. Thanks for taking the time share them. I’ve been loving vacariously vacationing through you.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: