Departure
CBMUSED at 2:41 pm Category: TravelTags: Bas Armagnac, cbmused, Charles de Gaulle airport, departure, Deux Magots, Paris, taxi
My eyelids flutter open as an unfamiliar tinkle disturbs my deep slumber. I stare at the ceiling, my mind a complete void. The annoying jingle tickles my awareness. The bedside phone is ringing. It’s the wake up call. No… it’s the hotel reception desk. The taxi to Charles-de-Gaulle airport is waiting downstairs.
I shake him awake and he slowly turns away and grumbles as if that was a nudge for having had too many red wines the night before.
“It’s 6.30 am! Missed the wake up call!”
“Er… what wake up call?”
Merde! The one he forgot to set. We bolt out of bed. There are showers to be had, final packing to do, squeezing last minute purchases into over-inflated suitcases and never mind the obligatory morning brew.
Frantically, I hop in the shower trampling over semi-open luggage. My mind is ablaze with the possibility of missing the flight, what is one to do? As I dry off, my thoughts are peppered with the “what-ifs” of the night before.
Had we not leisurely meandered through the left bank towards boulevard-st-germain after dinner, taking in the sights of nocturnal Paris, encore une fois, one more time. Had we not sat down at Les Deux Magots, and watched the night life in a city that inspires. Had we not ordered Bas Armagnac, and were served a double for the price of a single by a gracious waiter. Had we not recounted the highlights of the trip and with the last amber swill toasted a worthy end to the sojourn abroad. Had we not returned to our hotel late, very late…
I smile as I take one last look around the dishevelled room. Checking out is swift, as one would expect from an establishment that upgraded us to a suite during our entire stay. A taxi is hollered. We squeeze into the back seat of a Peugeot 307 as comfortably as our oversized luggage is laid in the boot. Le Figaro, L’Express and Paris Match magazines peep through the back pocket of the front seat.
It is still early morning. Paris se lève…Paris awakes and the city is enveloped in a dense and static haze. The taxi pierces through the fog at lightening speed, traversing the yawning Seine. Notre-Dame de Paris cathedral stands to my left. I bid my respects to the grande dame just as the sun floats languidly over the low horizon ahead. I glance towards the city one more time.
Au revoir, Paris.
A la prochaine…
Until next time.
March 20th, 2008 at 6:50 pm
Oh yeah, a whole city of martini moments!
I love it when a setting feels so alive that it’s a character unto itself. What a strong feel for the place you give us.
In between novels, you could always write travelogues. I here the money in writng for travelers is pretty good, too.
March 20th, 2008 at 7:28 pm
It’s funny… I remember coming into Paris… how it looked and felt… but oddly I don’t remember leaving ( I took a train out… not a plane ).
I do know that feeling you have described so well, and have felt it with other cities. It’s like you are trying to grab all these polaroids with your eyes and stash them away to look at later. Alas… you can never remember it all… and never take in enough: the sight… the sound… the sensation… it’s just too big.
Well captured.
March 20th, 2008 at 8:19 pm
Eric 1313: I admit that travel writing is something that I have toyed with on and off. As long as it captures the feelings and the moments shared, otherwise, it would take a lot of Martinis to swallow it.
Gboy: I recall the first time I arrived in Paris, but the departures have always been emotionally charged, as if I had a spiritual connection there.
You’re so right, we try to grab on as much as possible, even with what digital photography affords us now, it’s never enough, but then I’ve always found it difficult to say goodbye. Even until the next time.
Thank you :). I wrote it as raw as I had felt it at the time.
March 21st, 2008 at 4:49 am
I had to look it up: There is actually a restaurant called, “Les Deux Magots.”
It is right down the street from Le Fromage de Ricard.
There is actually a restaurant in Minneapolis called, La Cucaracha.
Names like these make it really hard on the health inspector, e.g., “Well, I just gave a 100-score to La Cucaracha. Didn’t find anything wrong there. Just looked at the sign, which said, ‘La Cucaracha,’ then went in and couldn’t find anything wrong. No siree! Mom said I wouldn’t make a good health inspector. Proved her wrong…etc…”
March 21st, 2008 at 7:27 am
I have to say, I really do enjoy your travel writing. As I think I have told you before, I haven’t traveled nearly as much as I would like and I have never been to France. It sounds like this was quite the trip to remember.
Could you do a less cultured/refined person a favor and tell me what Bas Armagnac is?
March 21st, 2008 at 7:39 am
What a splendidly written post, Clea. It takes me right back there.
Coincidentally, I lived on the Boulevard St. Germain, so those nocturnal nights are very familiar…
March 21st, 2008 at 10:17 am
That was “sights,” obviously. Nocturnal doesn’t really add much to “nights”, clearly…
March 21st, 2008 at 10:19 am
You paint an evocative tableau, yet I can’t say I liked the place myself. Full of people speaking French.
March 21st, 2008 at 11:14 am
Zen: La Cucaracha! Talk about advertising… makes me wonder what they serve! No, I’d rather not know…
I can’t imagine France awarding a Michelin star with a name like that. Quel horreur!
Justin: Thank you for the compliment, I really appreciate it. Travel writing tends to be too personal at times, for both reader and writer, not so easy to find a balance at times. There will be a few more pieces that I will post soon.
Apologies. I should have linked, and I will update the post. I was also going to post a photo gallery of Paris but maybe next time. Bas Armagnac is the specific region where it’s made and it’s considered to be the best.
Simon: Thank you kindly. For me to know that it takes you there, gives me much to smile about.
And what a lovely coincidence. St-Germain is my favourite area to stay. It makes me forget that I’m merely a visitor.
Simon: Sights and Nights, what better way to experience Paris
Gorilla B: Such eloquence with your words , thank you.
I would have thought gorilla language and French would get on like a house on fire, both passionate with gesticulating. Or maybe that’s Italian…
March 21st, 2008 at 12:59 pm
Wine in France. Always leaves the possibilities open for so many things. Late mornings are just one thing that can’t be avoided.
March 21st, 2008 at 1:30 pm
I think La Cucaracha was named due to a combination of the popular mariachi song, and the blissful monolingualism of most Americans.
Most Americans sing La Cucaracha as, “La Cucaracha! La Cucaracha! Um–duh duh duh duh duh duh something!”
I guess with Les Deux Magots, if there are only two magots (sp?) one hopes that they are just in the sewer drain and not on the food.
March 21st, 2008 at 2:29 pm
I visited France years ago, on a ski trip to Chamonix. We took the Aquille du Midi cable car and skied I believe a twelve mile trail, through glacier fields, over crevasse’s it was wonderful, very dangerous at the time and even in retrospect. I loved the trip, I loved the friends I made, I have not been to Paris, I will and I hope to soon but for now, I go to bed because I have to work tomorrow. Very nice post JW
March 21st, 2008 at 7:47 pm
Kami: Add to that not wanting to leave the city and people involuntarily get themselves into trouble!
Zen: I know the song, if not from cartoons. Still, it’s a bold move but then, it’s the US.
Les Deux Magots café was named after a play at the time and became the place to be seen, and later one of literary cafés alongside Café Flore, which is next door. The whole area is full of literary cafes and one gets quite a buzz just being in the district. I admit to scribbling notes while I was there, but people watching distracted me.
JW: I haven’t been to Chamonix but what you describe sounds sensational. I’m not a skier but the scenery would fascinate me from a photography point of view. Sounds like you’ve been working too hard of late, I hope you get a little reprieve soon.
Thank you :).
March 22nd, 2008 at 8:15 am
Some mighty fine photo opps in the French Alps…
March 24th, 2008 at 5:52 pm
JW: If it’s an breathtaking as the Swiss Alps, which I’ve had the pleasure of seeing, it would be a magical experience.
March 27th, 2008 at 3:00 pm
I’m hoping there’s a chance to get back to La Ville de Lumiere this year for my wife’s work. Now that would be damn cool and I could teach the bébé how to parler. Aw, those tiny little Peugeot 307s can weave in out of circulation like nobody’s business. The feeling of potentially missing a long flight back home is not fun.
March 27th, 2008 at 4:39 pm
Egan: You can always start her early, listening to the sounds of French while young, surtout la prononciation et les accents.
The Peugeots 307 are bigger than what they used to be, even the 207s but they’re cool cars. Even the police cars are Peugeot! Ah… I’m making myself homesick for travel again.