Okay, so life can't really suck when you walk across the Pont des Arts every day to get to school. Never mind that my laughable attempt to master conversational French is failing miserably (more on that later), that until the last 48 hours the weather has been bitter and cold, and that the dollar is so weak even my otherwise insatiable shopping habit has been brought to a screaming halt. The view from this bridge, whether at 7 in the morning (sept heures du matin), 7 at night (dix-sept heures du soir) or midnight (minhuit, I think but I don't know), can stop your heart a little and make you smile. [Note: The picture to the left is also one of my many experiments with camera and iPhoto. Not great but a fun way to try out a new hobby]
The point of all of this is, well, really nothing, except that I was on my way back to the 6th the other afternoon, class had been particularly demoralizing, and I was just looking forward to sitting on my bridge to decompress. Deciding that was too depressing, I picked myself off and decided to take myself to lunch at Comptoir. I won't bore you with another diatribe about how much I love that place but it proved itself to once again be a maker of magical moments for me in Paris.
I was seated inside, sandwiched between two couples both of whom looked very chic, very Paris and very intimidating, and while steeling myself for the brutal disdain of my amateurish French by the notoriously snobby waitstaff, I discovered that the couple to my right was having even more trouble with the menu than I was. I leaned over to offer encouragement in the form of everything is fabulous, the lamb is always great, and we struck up a quick conversation. Essentially, what the hell do you think that is - pointing to one of their specials?
I took a closer look at the woman and realized she reminded me a friend of my aunt's. I told her so and said, wow, it's amazing how much you like A-. Her reply: well, I am A- and this P-! Turns out this wonderful couple, who are also in Paris taking an immersion French class, had been told by their friend to try Comptoir. Now, that's not unusual. But what is totally random is that of all the bistros, on all the days, this couple would be seated right next to me and I would spend the next two hours with them reminiscing about Italy, comparing notes on Paris and talking about my family (and theirs).
So very cool. I caught up with them later that night at the Jeu de Paume for a Fellini retrospective and dinner at one of the oddest places (but still delicious) I have dined in Paris, a back alley sushi restaurant. The conversation was interesting, the common interests many, and it will go down as one of the more random, but lovely days in my trip.
Which is really a theme of this time in Paris, if I stop to think about it. Everyone has been great. Whether it was providing me with links to articles, names of their own favorite places, phone numbers of close friends, etc., this trip has really felt like one that is blessed with good wishes and good karma.
