Sherard headed home on Thursday morning. In eight days we had walked 107 miles, averaging 13 miles a day, with 18 miles on our peak day. I generally walk an average of 7 miles a day when I’m in Paris but Sherard upped my game considerably!
After he left I was tired! And my heel was hurting again — for obvious reasons. So I settled in for a day of rest and blogging. I had several free days before my next visitor, however, so I checked my social networking apps, and ended up making two dates, one for afternoon tea and the other for dinner.
I met my first date at métro Etienne Marcel. Omar is a 26-year-old Southeast Asian man on his first visit to Europe. He’s culturally Muslim but applies its principles flexibly. Like me, he enjoys travel and photography, and has a quirky sense of humor. I gave him a short tour of the Village Montorgueil, then we had tea at my apartment. We had a nice conversation and agreed to meet up again for drinks the following evening.
My second date was with a young French guy. He proposed that we meet at métro La Motte-Picquet – Grenelle, an area with which I wasn’t particularly familiar. There were many exits so I picked the most plausible one. There was a huge crowd of people there, going to some sort of soccer event (the Euro Cup is being held in France this year) but no sign of my date. I had relied on being able to contact him when I got there but the app we had been chatting on wasn’t working for me and I didn’t have any other contact info. I waited half an hour and finally the app started working and we met up. He proposed dinner at a restaurant quite a distance away, so we walked over. The meal was pleasant enough and he was pleasant enough, but I was more interested in Omar at this point so we didn’t make another date. He walked me back to the métro and I called it a night.
Mostly a rest day, yes, but I nevertheless ended up walking more than 7 miles!
I started out Friday morning for a non-date rendezvous with Bertrand (Jared R’s French friend, whom I had met at our dinner party) for hot chocolate at Angelina on the rue de Rivoli. We had a lovely conversation, en français. I was sorry to hear about the continuing homophobia of his brother, even though the rest of his family has been supportive. I forget sometimes how lucky I’ve been!
After Angelina I read my Yourcenar book for an hour in the lovely garden of the Palais Royal.