A month ago I was celebrating love and marriage in Philadelphia, translating my way through New York City with my French in-laws and taking the time to rest after a stressful first half of the year. Two weeks after my return to Paris, a professional bomb was dropped and still has me reeling. A year from now, I hope to be able to share the story with as much emotional precision and candidness as I am able to express it to friends now but for the moment all I can only say is that this has been a ride I’ll never forget. A very French, bureaucratic ride.
That said, the torrent of glacial July temperatures did very little to combat the blues. Fortunately, the weather gods kicked their butts into gear for the second week of Paris Plage, (aptly nicknamed a “Seine-side holiday”) and produced a weekend of stellar sunshine. I hit up a picnic at the Jardin du Louvre, walked through the 1st, 2nd, 3rd and 4th arrondissements, had one of the most spectacular meals I’ve ever had in Paris (more on that later HERE) and finished off the weekend back in the city center for a lengthy stroll through Paris Plage.
Though productivity and progress might come to an abrupt halt in August when locals physically and mentally check out of the city, it is this fleeting period of calm (and continued sunshine, if luck is on our side) that I’m depending on to help me plant my feet firmly on the ground again. I foresee lots of pétanque and imported sand in my future to ensure a smooth landing.