des photos, finalement

This past year has been a strange time of finding new places to run, as I simply must physically shake stress somehow and have never been able to balance on an elliptical machine. In New York, I could rush down the sea-smelling Hudson bound for the freeing edge of Pier 1 or, in the other direction, through comparably lush Central Park. Paris’s runner-friendly green space, on the other hand, is… hidden? Or perhaps just not within running distance of my highly humble abode.

My Acute Angle Shower

A Parisian Tree

A Parisian Tree

Here, I have established a loop that traverses wide (and preferably the less populated) boulevards such as Montparnasse and Les Invalides (as in “Hotel les Invalides” – what a depressing name for your military base), making a big U-ey at la Tour d’Eiffel to get home. I have found more mignonne boulangerie et maison des fleurs this way than any other, and just the other day, I was caught in an unexpected and completely wonderful rush of school children bound for the arms of their parents after classes. My neighbors in the apartment building also have kiddies – I am learning to love then through the paper-thin walls. Creepy? Yes.

La Tour D'Eiffel

From our sunset boat ride down La Seine on Friday

We began class yesterday for real and I switched from Intermediate to Advanced French to avoid counting from 1-50 and saying CA VA BIEN over and over and over along with a CD. I am out of my league but feel that for having only 4 more days of this class I shall learn more by gleaning than répéter. Peut-être – on va voir, mais non? During our break today I found another treasure by which to identify the location of my apartment when asked, “Where do you live?” That would be: “Inbetween Les Jardins Luxombourg and LE BON MARCHÉ,” which is this actually-fabulous department-store-cum-specialty-food-complex that will invariably destroy my so-far-decently-budgeted-at-home-eating-habits. Did I mention that Ina Garten recommends the farmer’s market I described on Blvd Raspail? Of course I would live between produce worthy of the Hamptons and the high-end Whole Foods of Paris. What’s that you say? 10 euro for that block of parmesan? Yes, I’ll take it.

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~ by soleilsphere on January 19, 2010.

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