Paris, Macaroon Class, Marie, Philippe and Valerie

A rare thing happened here Saturday morning: we actually set the alarm clock and got up early. Well, reasonably early anyway. The day began overcast but the sun would peek through occasionally throughout the day.

Susie left about 8:30 to head for the no. 1 Metro at Bastille, and she just made her 9:00 a.m. macaroon class at Lenotre as it was beginning. One of the major culinary schools in Paris, Leonotre holds its "recreational" classes (in French only) at the Pavilion Elysees, right along the Champs Elysees and indeed just in front of Nick Sarkozy's place (the Elysee Palace). The class was about three-and-a-half hours long, during which the students made three different flavors of (traditional) macaroons.

While Susie was off baking I grabbed my cameras and headed up to. . . . Pere Lachaise! Surprise! After strolling and taking photos for a couple of hours I walked to the no. 3 Metro and made my way into the city, getting off the no. 1 at Champs Elysees-Clemenceau. Susie's class was just across the street. Here are just a few images Susie took in class:



Plenty of gendarmerie were out on Saturday -- and presumably late Friday night as well as the Pope came to Paris and held a quick midnight mass, followed by services at Notre Dame in the morning before jetting off to Lourdes. Or so we were told. Actually we never saw him so we can't be sure this all happened.

Anyway, I got to Lenotre a bit early so I just sat and watched people and took a few photos of the several million tourists who happened to be walking from Place de la Concorde toward the Arc d'Triomph.

Before long I was joined by my personal pastry chef who had in her hand nearly two dozen freshly baked macaroons. She offered them to a man and his daughter sitting on the bench where I was waiting for Susie and they gladly accepted -- which by the way, was a great way of introducing ourselves to total strangers! But when she tried to give them away to people on the street, even the gendarmes politely said, "No," as if in fact they were saying, "Are you crazy? Trying to poison us or something? Is this an Al Qaeda trick?"

So the four of us -- Jeremy and his daughter Rebecca from "The Bench," couldn't resist the cookies -- strolled along the Champs, eating freshly made macaroons while the huge sweep of humanity remained oblivious to what they were missing.

We said good by to Jeremy and Rebecca as they headed for the Metro and Susie and I strolled through the Tuileries. We walked as far as the Louvre and then headed to Les Halles and lunch at our favorite cafe near Saint Eustache, the Cafe Etienne Marcel. We each ordered the Crocque Monsieur with a side of frites to share.

After lunch we strolled passed Detou, almost next door -- actually Susie did go in and browse baking supplies for a few minutes -- and then turned up rue Montorgueil, heading for the no. 3 line at Sentier. We got off two stops later at Republique, and found our way back to Gouymanyat, the spice shop we had visited the Friday we arrived in Paris.

From there we returned to Republique and the no. 9 to St. Ambroise and home where we unpacked and readjusted our personal baggage, so to speak.

About 4:30 or so we headed back out and down to the Place Leon Blum where we caught the no. 69 bus for Gambetta, for Place Gambetta in fact, and got off just short of that near the Gambetta entrance to Pere Lachaise. It was there that we met up with Marie and Philippe. Philippe, certainly one of the most knowledgeable people in Paris when it comes to the cemeteries in this city, and is in fact a walking repository of incredible information, now lives nearby in Gambetta and gave us a short tour around the Mairie and the Place itself.

Philippe, Susie and Marie

Naturally we stopped at one of the best patisserie in the area, "Sucre Cacao," at 89 Avenue Gambetta. Incredible creativity and variety of treats to match. Prices were, we thought, a bit high.

We soon found a nearby cafe to sit, have caffe and spend next hour or hour and half doing what comes so natural in this part of the world: talk, laugh and just be alive.

Eventually we had to say au revoir. Marie and Philippe were off to their evening's adventures visiting friends outside of Porte Bagnolet, all the way at the end of Metro line 3, past Gallieni in fact -- while Susie and I got on the no. 3 toward Republique and back down the hill to meet up with our friend Valerie.

After playing a bit of metro exit tag -- we had never clarified with Valerie exactly which exit at the St. Ambroise stop we would meet and there were four or five -- we met up on the street. The three of us walked to nearby Blvd. Richard-Lenoir and Blvd. Voltaire and sat and had an aperitif while we caught up on the latest news from the west side of Paris.

The last time we had seen Val she had come to Providence, on my birthday as it turned out, and spent a couple of nights visiting New England before heading west to the wilds of Las Vegas.

After an hour or so we walked around the corner to where we were hoping to have dinner: "Le Refectoire," another Clotilde recommendation. Although we didn't have reservations -- it was Saturday night after all -- they still seated us and we spent the next couple of hours talking about . . . what else but food, particularly the baked and pastry kind.

The service was good -- and I wasn't far off the mark in assuming that our waitress had once fronted local bands. Anyway I had duck breast with a gratin dauphinois, Susie had lamb and Val had fish. The wine was a light red that seemed to suit our needs just fine. Desserts were light, easy on the preparation and not terribly challenging -- particularly for these two women.

The three of us walked out into the late night air feeling its bracing quality for the initial moment after leaving a closed-in environment and realized, again, how wonderful it was to be alive and in Paris.

We walked the few meters back to the intersection of Voltaire and Richard-Lenoir where we hugged and said good night and au revoir. Valerie walked north toward Filles des Calvaire and her Metro, and we turned south and walked home.

Yes indeed. Good to be alive and in Paris.