Sherard and I understandably got a slow start on Saturday morning, after our big Friday night. We caught up with Jared W and one of his friends for lunch at Lemon, the new Icelandic place I had eaten at a few weeks before. We enjoyed our pocket sandwiches and juice drinks but like last time the service, while friendly, seemed unduly slow and disorganized.
After lunch I introduced Jared W and his friend to Stohrer on rue Montorgueil, which was an instant hit! The bakery/deli is one of the oldest in Paris, having been founded in 1730.
That afternoon Sherard went shopping while I did some reading and blogging. At 4 pm we joined Jared R and Steve, the other two members of our book group, for a transatlantic meeting on Skype to discuss the second half of the Pulitzer-prize-winning book Middlesex, which we all liked. Jared R was thrilled to see us at the apartment where he had spent several happy days the previous week, and Sherard and I enjoyed a tour of Steve’s new house.
When Sherard and I first planned the trip I had gotten tickets to the Paris Opera for a performance of La Traviata. This had seemed like a good idea at the time and Sherard had viewed a version with English subtitles to prepare. As it worked out, however, he was too tired, so I invited Zhizhong instead. We both enjoyed it, and were surprised that the three-hour performance seemed to fly by. As it turned out there were both French and English surtitles.
I was surprised to see that there was a 30 minute intermission after the first few scenes, then a shorter intermission later on. This made perfect sense, however, when we realized that a light supper was on offer at fairly reasonable prices. Since neither of us had eaten before this was a godsend.
I was sorry Sherard couldn’t attend but he really did need a serious nap. He woke up hungry around 9 pm and set off towards the Gare du Nord to find something to eat. (Not the direction I would have recommended, but it worked out great.) He got into a conversation in a café with a couple of guys who turned out to be gay. They invited him home, served him a Brazilian meal, and watched Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil with him. His Southern knowledge helped elucidate many subtle points.
So, special Parisian evenings for both of us!
[I’m still a week behind in my blog, but at least I’m making progress!]