All Good Things Come to an End

And here is the last of my tale of Paris. On the last day, we woke up and got ready fairly quickly, as we had to be out of the apartment by 9:30. Michelle and I had our last breakfast of pain au chocolat, and the kids had croissants. We opted to spend the morning wandering our little St-Germain des Pres area, which was really quite charming. We stepped outside and snapped a shot of Le Procope which was right next to our apartment, and has the claim of being the oldest cafe in Paris - and the world, having been founded in 1686. I had enticed Dalton numerous times with the chance to see the Rue du Dragon (Street of the Dragon), which, not entirely coincidentally, is also where Victor Hugo resided for a time. On the way, we passed St-Germain-des-Pres, which is the oldest church in Paris, originating in 542. (That is not a typo - it is 542.) It is also the burial place of Rene Descartes. To me, this was one of the great undiscovered places of Paris - while it was in the guidebook, it wasn't exactly highlighted, and nobody was there. Although the church is in need of restoration, it was still magical in its own way.

We meandered back up the Boulevard St-Germain, passing by Cafe de Flore, home to existentialist debates in the time of Sartre, before turning onto the Rue St Andre des Arts, a quaint little street running up to the Place St Michel. Mich took a few pictures of the fountain there, and then we walked along the Quai St Michel and the Quai des Grands Augustins to buy a few souvenir type postcards from the bouqinistes who set up there. Having done that, we went to a creperie for lunch, retrieved our luggage and set off for the bus station on the Metro.

The bus ride back was much more restful than the bus ride over - although we didn't go back on the ferry. We went on the tunnel, and our entire bus was loaded onto a box on a train, which was then shuttled from Calais to Dover. The whole tunnel ride took about 30 minutes. I have to admit, I never actually thought I'd be glad to see Victoria Station - chaos and all, but at the end of the long ride back, I was.

I have been trying to think of words to capture Paris, but feel incapable. The city is obviously beautiful, but it's not just the buildings, it's the joie de vivre, the quaintness and in some ways simplicity of the city. The architecture is ornate and wonderful, but what I think of is the trees overshading the Seine, water flowing from the numerous fountains, the small cafes, brasseries, and boulangeries, the lack of chain stores, and the uniqueness of the French way of life. Monuments may make for memorable photographs, but Paris is more than monuments. Rather than try to come up with any poignant comment, I will leave with a few last pictures - some of which, I think, capture the heart of Paris better than any pictures of Notre Dame or the Eiffel Tower could ever do.