A No Fuss Flâneuse

On our first trip to Paris together around 20 years ago, The Husband and I were debating on how to spend our last night there. I wanted to ride the bus to Place de Pigalle. The Husband said he couldn’t read the bus map. To this day we argue about it. He, an Eagle Scout with a built in man-compass, maintains his temporary map illiteracy argument. I maintain that he is a ‘fraidy-cat chicken-head. I’m into name calling.

The truth is I’m not careless, I just don’t fear the same things The Husband does. Me, I fear the really scary stuff like spiders, heights and tiny hands.

So here I am in Paris again.  The Husband is in school from 9am-1pm. This frees me up to be a flâneuse, in French, an “aimless wanderer”.

Though I did set out on foot today with a purpose. I needed to find the closest Monoprix to buy toilet paper but I never found one. I did, however, buy a smoothie at a Monop’, which is a smaller version of Monoprix. Yes, they do sell toilet paper there but stop hassling me. 

Smoothie in hand, headphones banging, I discovered these two cats sitting inside a restaurant on the dining tables (and all the people with cat allergies say wwwttttfffff?). 

I sauntered through the fabulous passages of the 2nd and 9th arrondissements.

I crossed the garish bridge over the tracks of the Gare du Nord. 

I stumbled into a gritty and not yet gentrified neighborhood in the 10th arrondissement and a charming playground park where milky children were being guarded by their black nannies. I kept going well past Place de Pigalle till I reached the périphérique, the barrier between Paris central and the (sometimes scarier) suburbs.

As if that wasn’t plenty of excitement for one day, I got a swell video of the always popular Easter Rooster.

 

The moral of the story is–Don’t be a ‘fraidy-cat chicken head and… 

We still don’t have toilet paper.

8 Comments

  1. LOL! Of all the things you could buy in Paris! What’s wrong with perfume! 😀
    On the matter of fears, I recently read an article about various people with the strangest of fobias, like buttons, balloons and fish! Tiny hands? As babies’ hands?

    Liked by 1 person

  2. My one and only time in Paris was with my university Art History class. We stayed in Pigalle (at least I think so). Our hotel was a two minute walk from Moulin Rouge. My very blond friend and I decided to take a walk the first evening and got followed and chatted up by, I’m guessing, 50 or more men. It was a very short walk.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I know. It’s a shady part of town after nightfall. Why do you think o wanted my hubby to take me there? Perfect people watching with low risk of being hassled.

      Like

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