Today I have been back in France three weeks. It’s been a strange return. I was so sick and out of it. And then suddenly I was here two weeks. I seem to have missed that rush of excitement to feel I am back in Paris.
But it’s ok. I AM back in Paris, and that’s all that matters.
After two years, I am still discovering things. There’s a super easy bus connection to my favorite shopping mall that I never knew existed. I can’t figure out why neither CityMapper nor RATP showed it as an option before. No, it’s not new. But it means I can easily come back with my purchases in my bag pack and no need for Uber.
And I have rediscovered Orangina Zero.
Macron. Last week a friend shared a photo a friend of his took of Macron at the brassiere La Rotonde. Old well known spot – I think Hemingway hung out there too. So I was excited because now I am two degrees from Macron. His Friend. My Friend. Me. Or is that three?
Yesterday my friend and I met there for a conversation. Really just because it was close to the Columbia center where I was going for a lecture. And why not? It’s one of those old Frenchy spots. I went for conversation but as we sat down, my friend suggested I look casually at 11:00. And lo and behold: DSK. Dominique Strauss-Kahn. You will remember him from the maid rape scandal in NYC. He used to be with the World bank. Was on track for French president perhaps until that scandal upset everything. He wasn’t very impressive, I must say. A friend asked if I felt the need to shower after seeing him…. No. But he didn’t radiate any power or charm.
Manchester. So terrible. Of course, all the elected officials reacted with statements. And of course, Macron did too. But what I found charming was that he and his prime minister just walked down the street to the British Embassy. Just like walking down to call on his neighbors… which is what he was doing. But no cars. No ceremony. He signed the condolence book in the Embassy, made a short statement, and walked back home.
I just like that. I would think it gave his security heart failure! What a target. Whew.