Paris encore

Belatedly, the 2015 edition begins. Through no fault whatsoever of Paris, the stay itself has had a rocky start, due mainly to the crash of my trusty notebook computer. Indeed, this is entirely the fault of Microsoft's Windows 10, which showed up uninvited while I was still at home, got installed (I assumed Microsoft must know what it was doing sending it out), and when I tried to use the computer--which was quite a while later, in the busyness and preoccupation of those weeks--it completely froze.

I'll skip over much panic and worry, wringing of hands and dread, hours with computer techs in India, to the recommendation that I get a flash drive large enough to back up everything on the computer so that it could be wiped completely clean, and have Windows 7 reinstalled (the operating system it came with).

To summarize, then:

Thursday, October 1st.
I walked all up and down boulevard St-Germain trying to find the FNAC David told me was there (David, the apartment's--as opposed to the building's--concierge, who grew up in Shreveport). I couldn't check for it on a map (Catch-22), because I didn't have a working computer. When I finally got back (I did have lunch , at Au Pied de Fouet again, near the church of St.-Germain; learn the great conversational group offering in the basement behind the church now a) has to focus exclusively on migrants as well as students, b) for security reasons can now allow fewer than half as many people at one time as in the past, so c) no one over 60 is allowed (how's THAT for adding insult to injury? though I understand and agree with the priorities); bought currants, walnuts, and Nicoise olives at the Place Maubert street market as it was closing up, and a fresh chevre cheese from a little shop there--AS I was continuing the search for FNAC); and even walked over to the Jardin du Luxembourg when I gave up, where I strolled, pulled up a chair in shade near the main pool to contemplate, people-watch, consider that the plantings are in tones suitable for fall, but surely must have been there all season, since they're lush and mature, and REST), I did have one brief window (no pun intended) of computer and manage to get that much: a street view and a location.

Friday, October 2nd.
So I got up, attended to all the various domestic chores, and headed back over to bd. St.-Germain, straight up bd. St.-Michel this time, since it appeared the FNAC was near their intersection. I walked slowly past Sephora, looking at the street numbers. I walked around the block, behind the buildings. Finally, I went into Sephora and asked a very fashionable young employee whether she knew where it was--no. Concluding the FNAC which once was on bd. St.-Germain is now a memory, I headed back across the river, caught the #1 Metro line at Chatelet, and took it to the George V stop on the Champs Elysees. Without too much difficulty--only one detour into an arcade I for some reason thought might be its location, I found the large, bustling (well, everything bustles on the Champs Elysees--but it really is a busy store) FNAC store, attempted to make clear what I needed, finally did, perused a wide selection looking for the best price on a large flash drive, paid, and was on my way. Progress!

Finally--finally!--I took a few minutes just to wander. Well, to bustle, but without a sense of urgency. I could have just gone back to the George V stop and headed home, but I decided to walk on to the next stop toward the Place de la Concorde, Franklin Roosevelt. I went to the curb and looked west, to the Arc de Triomphe (which was startlingly close), and east to the obelisk at Place de la Concorde.

Of course, then I couldn't find the Franklin Roosevelt station entrance, or not readily, so kept walking. I was pleased to recognize the Grand Palais across the wide street, where I know the Clemenceau Metro entrance is, having used it several times. I rode past my stop, Hotel de Ville, to the St.-Paul stop in the Marais. There's a larger supermarket there, where I picked up a few things the closer Franprix hadn't had: chicken in actual parts, as opposed to more prepared tourist bits, oatmeal, and chocolate. Then I stopped at the lovely little bakery up the block, for a spinach and brie quiche, some flan, and a "pave de berger" loaf as opposed to the baguettes that go stale overnight. Then walked all the way up the quai to the pont Louis Phillippe, across Ile St.-Louis, and home. Got to burn that cholesterol.