Since it rained all day yesterday, I didn’t do much other than pop out to eat lunch and have dinner with a friend. I spent the day working, or trying to work, and contemplating the fastest way to dry my soaking wet Tom’s.
But today was gorgeous, nice and sunny…and I slept until 1pm because I was up till 5am again. Some day I’ll have my jet lag under control.
See this lovely salad? It was delicious. And the glass of water was wonderfully cool. The waiter brought the check with the food, so when I was full, I tossed my coins on the table and left.
The waiter chased me down. Apparently, there was a separate bill for the water that I didn’t pay. He brought me back to the cafe and I apologized and gave him 20 euro. He handed me back some change and I left again. Just as I was about to enter Les Halles, another waiter chased me down with a fist full of money. I had now overpaid by 11 euro 50. By this point I was so embarrassed, I told him to keep it and ran down the steps into the craziest, maze of a mall ever.
Les Halles is an underground shopping mall. It’s layout makes absolutely no sense. There are metro stops in the mall, weird corridors and very narrow passages. All I wanted was to buy a pair of shoes and a sweater to replace the one I’ve lost. Never found a shoe store, but I did find a new sweater.
Since I didn’t like the feeling of being underground, I left the mall and headed over toward Hotel de Ville. I picked up a few items I need for the apartment, found a nice boulangerie, bought a lemon and raspberry macaron per my boys’ instructions, and a loaf of bread. I have Celiac’s disease and can’t eat bread, but I have a guest coming tomorrow and wanted to have something on hand other than fruit. As I wandered, I came across this street:
It’s called the “Street of Bad Boys.” Made me laugh. Ever the writer, I had this image of all the bad boys in YA retiring here when their series ended.
I did spend a little time this afternoon sitting in the park writing. Not working on Nightingale like I should, but jotting down ideas for another book. On my way home, I stopped into a florist and bough a bouquet of hydrangeas.
I don’t have a vase, so I filled up a cereal bowl and hacked off the stems. At home, I don’t keep flowers in the house because they are like drugs for my cats. Anything green is pounced upon and devoured. But here, in Paris, I thought flowers would be perfect.
After doing a little more grocery shopping to prepare for my guest, I treated myself to Japanese food. It was delicious. My appetite is still terrible and I know I’m not eating enough, but I’m trying and I ate more than yesterday. Baby steps.
Things I learned today: Drinking wine or champagne with every meal is a good thing; aways check for multiple bills; and “MC” hammer pants are apparently in fashion among chic Parisians.