Romance, yes, it is Paris

The Eiffel Tower lit with a charming display of lights
as we floated by on Le Calife. Jon is watching from our
dinner seats on the boat.

Romance.  

Think “evening in Paris”  and music starts to play from some magical element, the evening shadows soften for intimacy, and thoughts of tall flutes of champagne are so tangible as to chill the tongue.

Jon and I had the ultimate romantic setting for our 40^th wedding anniversary. We had an apartment in Paris in Le Marais neighborhood, unstructured time around a scheduled tour of Giverney, reservations for an evening dinner cruise, and on our Anniversary evening, music and dinner at Petit Journal Saint Michel. The Hot Antics Jazz Band was performing in the intimate space. This small supper club had a charming ambiance that spoke of secrets and music to kept your heart beating. The tables around the band where we were seated were well lit in an arched space that reached back into the soft light of a darkly carpeted collection of booths and tables that filled with patrons who enjoyed the music over cocktails or wine.

Paris is so different at night.
This is a view of the Sarah Bernhardt Cafe.

The jazz was charming: American tunes with a French accent.  We enjoyed a lovely Beaujolais with our dinner.  The venue was mellow, a bit of a contrast from our usual haunt at the Barking Spider with Hot Jazz 7. There, my most elegant drink is an ale from Great Lakes Brewery.  Since Jon is usually playing, I it would be a stretch to say the  situation is romantic, but music always brings a good time.

We came out into the dark evening of streetlights. The club is directly across from the Jardin du Luxembourg, so we walked a short way until Jon Jr, who had flown from Manchester to join us, grabbed a cab. It was a blessing for the old legs that had walked up Sainte Michel to the club, but we sent the poor cab driver into the heart of the music festival. He came to the corner at Rue Saint Denis and Rue des Lombardes and literally drove into a wall of people. We assured him it was fine to let us out in the midst of it, and he made it to Blvd de Sebastopol only a few seconds before us. He was happy to turn to a more sane setting, and we returned to the champagne in our apartment for a toast. Then, Jr headed out for the nightlife.

A few days after returning to Cleveland Hts, I asked Jon what he found most romantic on our trip. I got "that look" that implied "I am going to avoid any argument" when he threw the question back to me. After 40 years of marriage, we are not always on the same page. No, I will confess, we do not think alike. However, after some prodding we agreed that the evening walk along the Seine on our first night in Paris and our dinner cruise the following night were probably more romantic than even our anniversary dinner. Whereas Jon acquiesced that Giverney and Bath were romantic settings, he was, by that point of the trip, having problems with his asthma and his knee. Truly the first few days of magic, when we were slowly opening our eyes to the wonder of the corner of the city we had embraced, were comfortable your-hand-feels-good-in-mine times. We had planned the trip at our own pace, so it was fortunate that we could stop and change our itinerary as needed. Through the trip, we only had to cancel one dinner reservation because of the limitations of senior bodies on evening strolls.

This is a view of the side of Le Calife. You can almost
see Jon through the window.

We both agreed the evening dinner cruise on the Seine was marvelously romantic, though our long-married behavior did not send off as much steam as the young couple sitting next to us. We were seated in the upper, smaller part of the boat between a four-some, about our age, and a young couple, late 20s-early 30s. There were probably 50 patrons on our level. The lower level had a bar and a large party.

The weather promised rain, so the plastic windows were zippered down. I had not known that Paris was so frequently rainy, but the contrast to the bouts of rain was brilliant sun, usually in the afternoon.  For tonight, the world was gray, and the other boats were only filled as much as they could accommodate the patrons in covered space. We were surprised to see others taking pictures of our small boat, but as I looked out the window at the lanterns that lined the sides, remembered the shape and dark green and gold paint, it was quite obvious that Le Calife was the charmer, sweet and romantic. The reviews had promised excellent food, and it lived up to the reviews.  The setting, wine, food, and of course my husband's company earned a gold star rating.

Our first evening in Paris, and we walked
the old city to familiarize ourselves with
the neighborhood.

The night before the cruise, we had found the boat docked in the quay. How can one sit still on the first night in Paris? We were enchanted to find the walk from our apartment to the Seine so short, and since it was Sunday evening, it was calm. There were not too many people on the sidewalks, and traffic was not heavy. A lovely, whispering dusk. People lined the steps and sat on the banks. We crossed the bridge and walked along the quays. Here we were in the old city, the heart of Paris. Across the river, I had a clear view of the Conciergerie and other grand buildings pinioned next to each other. The elegance of the Louvre differentiated itself, and we took one of the staircases down to the river. I didn't quite know what to think of the small boats that were docked, quietly draped on the river’s side.  It was a different world from American rivers where businesses and boats are so obviously linked to industry in dusty, sooty corners of towns and cities. Then we saw our charming boat with the dancing calife on the prow, we laughed, charmed in anticipation of our cruise. We strolled down further and found stairs up and crossed on Pont du Carrousel into the Louvre’s courtyard. I was interested in Pont de Arts that was covered with locks. There were all types of key locks linked to the chain-link railing. They were accompanied by ribbons and other fluttering color. I was charmed by this public art, but is seemed incongruous next to the historic buildings.

Our romantic stroll wound through streets until sun had set and the city was lit. We found ourselves at Saint Michel and turned to cross the river, again. Notre Dame was lit, and the city was magical. We found our street which was an every-evening-party street, but we were jet lagged. Our small apartment had tall windows that opened onto an interior courtyard. As noisy as all of the night-spots were, inside was quiet. We were happy to let in some of the warm evening air and relax.

We were in Paris. The very stairs, uneven 300-year old steps, were romantic.