Long day yesterday...

Galina and I headed our the door early yesterday, with the intention of meandering toward the
Left Bank, to allow me to get in one last session at St-Germain-des-Prés before we head back home.

We got to the Left Bank, but in the end, I decided to accompany Galina in her trek to walk over to the Right Bank and look around inside the Bazaar de l'Hôtel de Ville, a high-end department store located right next to what is, basically, city hall (most assuredly not a hotel). Along the way, we passed a branch of the bank I was having a problem with, but it was closed on Mondays, which seemed to kill the idea of finding out if my problem had been resolved, except that after leaving the BHV (the store is often referred to this way, as the name is something of a mouthful), we passed a branch that was open on Mondays, so I went in.

I was advised that the problem had been corrected, but as we have no pressing need for euros, I didn't push the issue.

We got back to our host's apartment around 4 pm, whereupon we were invited to join them and some other guests for something of a soirée, and were then taken for a walk to be shown a shortcut back to the Gare de Lyon, which I can only describe as a narrow, elevated park that runs about 40 feet above street level from not far from our apartment past the station.

The get-together was slated to start at 8 pm, and while we waited, I asked Pascal, who is an engineer, a number of questions about French technical terminology. (Indeed, generally speaking, yesterday I spoke quite a bit of French; certainly more than I would have at the abbey.) Then the guests arrived, consisting of Borja, a Spanish theater student who will be looking after the apartment while Pascal and Annie are on vacation in Palestine and Israel, Anne-Claire, who was introduced as Annie's "adopted daughter in Paris," Inez (a translator, as it turns out, and a dual French-Uruguayan national) and her s.o. Jose, who is also from Spain, and an artist from Norway named Boris.

The food was good, and the conversation covered quite a spectrum, from the making of Spanish tortillas to the situation in the Middle East. The party broke up around midnight, which was not a moment too soon for me. I slept pretty much like a piece of concrete.

We need to be at the airport in just over three hours. I should get cracking.

Cheers...

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