Exploring

There is always something you should do. This particular evening, I should have been studying French, or assembling furniture, or tidying up the apartment. However, when the weather is nice, the outside calls. There is too much to see and do outside in Paris. Doing a load of dishes and going for a run will have to suffice as responsible enough.

Finding myself solo for the evening, I go exploring. I usually start off with a landmark of some sort and wander from there. Paris is a relatively safe city. Unless you are a lone woman at night, you can wander most places without the fear of violence. The worse violation you most likely will face is olfactory.

The omen this evening was meeting the neighbors in the hallway. This is unusual in Paris. Apparently, you only meet your neighbors accidently and try not to borrow sugar often. Walking down the stairs (I am on the 4th floor), I run into three neighbors and their dog (or a combination of neighbors, people that know them, and a dog). The person with the dog runs down the stairs ahead of me. As I approach the bottom, the dog is urinating on the stairs. This is not the accident of a puppy that knows it will be outside, but does not quite have control yet. No, this is the voluntary bladder relaxation of an adult dog who apparently consumed a gallon of water over the last hour.

Enchante.

“Ce n’est pas mon problem”, I continue and explore the side streets winding towards Concorde. A crepe is found and a beverage is purchased. Why they do not sell milk at the crepe store is perplexing. Milk and nutella crepes partner perfectly. Wandering continues.

As I started towards in area that is rather nice and come to often (free wifi), I was not expecting certain things. Have I mentioned that Paris is compact, and it really does not take long to get somewhere? Moving one small block in a new direction I find a min-red light district. I say mini, because I was not near the Moulin Rouge. I was also not expecting street workers.

There is some irony here, because in a lot of ways, it seemed like normal Paris. Cafés, wondering Parisians of all sorts, and gyro stands. However, there were also “DVD shops” and stores with an ominous lack of windows on the front. Or maybe this is promising? Depends on what you are looking for, I suppose.

It is about here that right now I wish something crazy happened, but it did not. I wander back into an area I recognize. It is marked by a “mini-arch”, for which the Parisian’s apparently have an affinity. Yes, certain aspects of America still root strong in my blood.

And thus I return home and pour a glass of water, study some French, and then drift off to sleep.