Unless I want to be an Edie, Big or Little, in an ersatz-colonial Grey Gardens,…
Widow’s Weeds 12: Au Revoir Paris
Jean-Bernard grimaces as he tells me it’s gonna be hot. Thirty-two degrees. He wrinkles his nose. I already know. Weather.com says 78 ° F by early afternoon. “Je déteste la chaleur,” I respond. “Moi aussi,” he agrees. He doesn’t like the heat, either. It’s Not 1999...
Widow’s Weeds 10: Going To The Dogs
Douglas Keister published Stories in Paris: A Field Guide to Paris Cemeteries and Their Residents in 2013 and I don’t remember when I bought it. I must have encountered it in the travel pages of The New York Times, but I don’t recall. Cemeteries in Distant...
Widow’s Weeds 09: Montparnasse
The Garden Saint Martin seems to be the hotel of choice for many women traveling solo. It also has truly charming gentlemen at the front desk. Murat, in particular, is something of a flirt. I realized while unpacking that I had forgotten—despite my best efforts—an...
Widow’s Weeds 08: Paris 1
Café Plat du Jour Cheeseburger Terrible name but the café is on the corner of Place de la République and this morning, in addition to strong coffee, I seek the liveliness of traffic. And the oh-so-French accent of emergency vehicles. My café au lait is delicious, too....