Page 57 of One Week in Paris
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WE MEET UP WITH MATT near our place. He’s also staying in the first arrondissement, the center of it all. If Paris were a jelly donut, we’d be the jelly.
Matt is looking amazing today, very European. He’s wearing black pants and a long black suede jacket, topped with a red scarf — he fits right in. Suddenly, I feel underdressed in my leggings and sneakers. He hugs us both and smells delicious.
We take the metro, and after a few false turns, we finally reach our destination. It’s not until we get there that we discover that Matt has been pickpocketed. He’s livid, and I feel so bad, since I’m the one who dragged him with us.
The metros here are so cool; vintage-like signs, ultra-modern colorful seats, and gorgeous murals. As we climb up the stairs out of the metro, I’m momentarily distracted by the exquisite vivid paintings lining the walls.
We take a ride up on the funicular, a kind of escalator/elevator hybrid which travels up the many stairs. It’s crowded but so much fun, and I’m just happy we don’t have to walk up all those stairs. Matt is not in a good mood — I don’t blame him. I’d be pissed too. Thankfully, he still has his phone, and he’s busy making calls to his credit card companies. Luckily, his passport is safe, back at his rental.
Since Mom really wants to see the famous Sacré Coeur Basilica, we do the tourist thing and head up there. The basilica is stunning, just like Notre Dame, and the view of Paris is to die for. At one point, the crowd separates in a frenzy as a chase goes down. Local police are running down some hooligans. Gypsies, I’m told.
It’s super exciting. Who knew Paris was so crime-ridden. “Probably the same thieves who stole my wallet,” Matt says with a smirk. He seems to be in a better mood.
“Everything okay?”
“It’s all good,” he tells me. “I made all my calls. It’s just a wallet. It’s not my life. Or yours.”
I smile up at him. “You make an excellent point.”
“Why don’t we all take a walk down the trail?” Antoine suggests.
Mom has met another local man, and is walking up ahead of us, smiling and chatting with him and Antoine.
Matt smiles. “Frenchmen really seem to like your mom.”
I laugh. “True. And she doesn’t speak a single word of French.”
“Well, she is quite beautiful.” He turns to me, and shoots me a sweet smile. “Just like her daughter.”
I blush like an idiot. You’d think it was the first compliment I’ve ever received.
“I missed you yesterday,” he goes on. “You still owe me a second date.”
I smile. “I do. Where shall we go?”
His phone dings.
“It’s a text from Nicole,” he tells me. “She’s with Mark right now at the place des Vosges.”
“Where is that?”
“It’s in les Marais,” he tells me, like he’s a local. “It’s right between the third and fourth. It’s a walkway, an old square of covered arches. Gardens, cafés and shops. Perfect for rainy days.”
“Sounds like you know your way around Paris.”
He smiles. “I lived here for a year,” he tells me. “Can you tell that I don’t know much French though?” he jokes.
He taps away swiftly on his phone. “I’m going to get her to take him to the courtyard, and be there for one o’clock. We’ll have to get our butts over there, but that’s not for a good hour. Plenty of time.”
I check my watch. “It’s about time for lunch.”
“How about we tell your mom there’s a little place at Place des Vosges where the crêpes are fantastic… there actually is. We set out to go there, make sure we walk by the pavilion at one o’clock.”
“We go to the pavilion before lunch?”
“Yeah, lunch will have to be after.”
