A Lazy Sunday in Paris. Moments enjoyed…
Last week I mentioned that I’d like to share with you some brief notes about what I got up to while in Paris the other weekend. I realise I possibly don’t do this enough here, and one of the reasons is because I was writing a book about Paris and had to keep all the good stuff secret! Now I don’t have to keep it all to myself. So the next few posts will be brief accounts of what I enjoyed each day on the last trip. These posts might make nice little additions to the Paris wanders you go on, make sure you follow the links for all the locations and info.
Saturday: arrived in Paris at 7pm. Moments enjoyed…
French Boy and I have had a number of interesting adventures/dramas/scenarios in our relationship thus far, and many of these adventured/dramas/scenarios often have something to do with Paris. I think we will not be short of paris-themed stories to share with the grandkids, for instance.
One scenario comes to mind regularly, and still manages to crack me up. I thought it about time I share it with you.
It was when we went to Paris last year to photograph all the ateliers and interview the artisans for the book. French Boy had fabulously offered to be my assistant for the whole trip, and we were really looking forward to it even though I was secretly anxious about it, being my first book and all. After getting the numerous and very heavy backpacks on our backs, we finally made it out the door and trudged along to the tram stop. We looked at each other with relief to be on our way for this exciting adventure together, and we smiled at each other.
The next few moments went something like this:
Pia: Gees, I hope we didn’t forget anything.
FB, with twinkle in his eye and a smile that could melt an iceberg: We’re fine! We are off to Parrree!! As long as we have food and shelter we are set.
Pia: Well not really, if we don’t have the camera we are f#$%ed.
FB, smile turned to upsidedown-French-frown: You have it, right?
Pia: what are you talking about, YOU have it, don’t you?
Tram arrives. People getting on.
FB, twinkle gone, face white, enter latin drama , stage one: What? What!? What are you TALKING about?
Pia: I left it on the bed next to the bag for you to pack!
FB: I thought the camera was YOUR duty! It’s YOUR camera. I thought YOU were in charge of it?
Pia: What are you TALKING about?
FB: oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god.
I have already internally thanked my lucky stars that we had this incredibly serendipitous conversation before we’d left the vicinity of the city, and with plenty of time to get the next tram to get to the train to Paris. But before I can externalize my internal dialogue, French Boy’s bag flies off his back and he bolts across the road, running like a mad man back to le petit bateau. I can’t help but laugh at his dramatic and panic stricken exit (latin drama , stage two) and I try to yell out after him “PLEASE, don’t panic!”.
When he arrived back to the tram stop with camera in hand, the twinkle was back in his eyes, his smile was wide and we both broke out in hysteric laughter. Because seriously, if we had have forgotten the camera on that particular trip, we would have been f#$%ed.
this is one of my favourite photos from the book. It’s from a gorgeous boutique in the 17th arr called french touche – you can view and purchase some of their collection online, click here to view more like this piece above.
…………………………………………………………………….
There is a wonderful travel website called Wandering Educators. I hear they are the largest source of travel guide reviews on the internet and recently, they interviewed me. Yesterday, the article went live. Jessie the editor, asked me lots of great questions like “how did you find the treasures you share in the book?”, and “How has your life influenced your book?”, as well as, “What was the inspiration for Paris: Made by Hand?”.
I really love it when people ask me questions that I know the answers to.
Please click here to read the full article. Thank you Wandering Educators!
xx
On a side note, I’m actually feeling a little sea sick for once while on le petit bateau – there is some construction work going on opposite on the canal and it is making my little home rock like it’s never rocked before. Right now I am holding my head and stomach, and trying to take deep breaths to quel my nausea. Why, oh why, are there these types of distractions when I am on a killer deadline?! Deep breaths.
