My answer then was- oh, walk everywhere, sit at a cafe, get lost.
Sometimes it gets tiring living in a city where English is the predominant language. I needed a change. I wanted to have my senses jolted by the unfamiliar, and the foreign. Especially because I am in that hibernation phase of life, my biggest fear, is physical and mental sloth, and decline. I made a pact with K. She is to shove me off some cliff, if ever, I become that frog, croaking at the bottom of that well.
Getting lost is delicious.
Not understanding the spoken language forces one to pay more attention. The morning spent in the Marais, Jon asked- how on earth did you manage if only French was spoken?
Easily. I can read body language. Plus I can trudge my way through a menu written in French.
Plat du Jour |
Prior to arriving in Paris, I was a little concerned about our safety. I didn't want to be a target for petty theft, and was worried that he would in a sense draw unwanted attention, just because he is kind of cute.
Which is absolutely my preferred way of traveling! Everyone simply assumed we were local because there was this chien, a "French" poodle, no less!
One of the best things about incognito status? I experienced the French as friendly, helpful, considerate, caring, inclusive, tender, and with a sense of gentle humour. Cultural walls were non-existent, simply because of Bruno Chan.
We read about the French loving dogs, and Paris being dog-friendly. To experience it though allowed our stay to unfold with so much more ease and pleasure.
A stranger awakens a sleeping Bruno unintentionally and startles him? Immediately she is crestfallen and apologising profusely. Eating at a restaurant and eyeing a table further from the main action so as not to bother other diners? I am at all times redirected to choice seats by the windows.
"Here is the library, where you can take tea or have some champagne, and the spa is on the top floor...."
Can my dog go everywhere?
"Yes, of course! He can go everywhere!"
We love our hotel! Thank you, Hotel Esprit St-Germain!
And then Bruno breaks other barriers and tugs at heart strings. An old woman with early Parkinson's and Alzheimer's sits with her family beside us. Her face softens longingly at Bruno. I break pieces of bread and share them with her. She happily offers these back to Bruno with a trembling hand. When tea is over, we are all smiling, and her husband leans over to kiss Bruno, whispering, Au revoir, Monsieur Bruno, au revoir!
Ah, Paris... A Bientot!
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