Actually, Paris is the Most Beautiful in the Rain

It rained today in Paris.

And it rained.

And it rained.

We weren’t eager to get out and slog around but we were hungry— how I don’t know. We had the most decadent of dinners last night at Verjus, a favorite of ours near the Palais Royal.

There we met the dearest set of cherubic sisters, one studying at the Cordon Bleu. We told her we weren’t going to have Thanksgiving dinner because we couldn’t get a turkey. She said, “You can get the bone marrow from the left knee of a yak, you just have to ask the butcher four days in advance.” We started to take issue, maybe it’s not as good, maybe it’s not possible. She just held up her hand with four fingers. Discussion closed.

We walked home via the Grands Magasins to see the holiday windows. I don’t know what Galleries Lafayette is selling but it ain’t raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens.

So back to our rainy day. We finally left our apartment to find something to gnaw on and then made our way past the Eiffel Tower in the clouds to the Quai Branly museum, a perfect rainy day activity.

Actually, Paris is the most beautiful in the rain

Gil, Midnight in Paris