Last night, in the company of a lovely Parisian, sipping Beaujolais in the courtyard of the Louvre, with a cellist playing in the background, the tears, started welling up in my eyes. This was a familiar sign, there was no controlling the emotions, when it gets to this stage of my visit.
This is my last full day in Paris.
Even although it was -2 degrees, it was a beautiful bright sunny day and wanting to make good use of the light to take a few parting photos, passing by some favourite landmarks along the way, I headed for Pont Alexandre III, one of my favourite bridges.
As I walk, I wonder; would’ve it been better to fly out in the afternoon, that way I would have another half day, but then I did have the whole Sunday. There is no escaping it, either way, it was almost time to leave.
Being Sunday, at least that meant, I could have dinner at Jim Hayne’s, and what better way to spend my last night in Paris
Jim’s warm welcome, and familiar surroundings brought more regret that I was leaving.
I had to snap out of it and enjoy the moment.
Yet another wonderful dinner. Tonight cassoulet seemed fitting, a good hearty French meal. His apartment jammed packed with people, as usual and his friends marvelling that they think I know Paris better than they.
Jim handing out, his famous After Eight dinner mints towards the end of the evening, was a signal the night had nearly come to an end.
I walked, as usual to the metro, with my mate JD., had a drink at the bistro near the metro, for old times sake and I was on my way.
Feeling the need to suck the life out of Paris and with two and a half hours before my favourite bar closed, I popped into to say a goodbye to my friend Bouba.
Saying goodbyes is the hardest.
Bouba, reassures me I will be back next year, he knows I won’t be able to stay away and Jim has already ordered me to start saving my pennies for next year.
Hopefully it isn’t goodbye but just … a bientot –
