"It's too real and too beautful to ever let you forget anything"

It is Monday.

Paris begins to be a working city again. I take my morning stroll to orientate myself. Where am I?

Cities have a character to themselves. A few moments in Chicago, New York, San Francisco, you know where you are. You feel Paris. The sounds are European. The car have horns frequently used and the motorbikes have a unique sound. The emergency vehicles have the sound so familiar to movie fans.

Paris sounds are great. I have to admit that I have fallen in love with Paris. I was apprehensive about Paris and Parisians on this trip. Our previous visit was enjoyable and friendly. We found that contrary to the urban legends the Parisians have no problem with people attempting to speak French and are more the quick and happy to speak English with you.

They are not angels. They will give a quick look if you are not quick on the uptake of when to put the credit card in the handheld credit verification machine. But, it is the same look you will see in any small or big city where you are not a local.

As it London, I cannot understand why "Uber" exists. Cabs are ubiquitous even in the rain. They are clean, uniform and metered. You do not tip (you do round up as in London). Most importantly, they are polite and knowledgeable about their city. Metro is less expensive than London (wow) but for a group over 3, taxi is definitely affordable and "door to door".

I discover that we are within the District 6. Picasso and Balzac is just down the street. We are on the Left Bank and the area quickly blends into the French Quarter.

As I walk I pass the cafes and find that we are on the opposite side of the Luxembourg. We stayed our last time in Paris within blocks of the same gardens. Our visit was in October. So, we have seen fall and now spring..

I walk quickly through the gardens. I want to save for later when we can all enjoy.

I walk to the Sorbonne and the Pantheon. The Sorbonne is a disappointment. It is very much an institutional school. It has no character or charm. After centuries of student riots and uprisings, the rulers of France intended blandness.

I circle back to the apartment. With the gang awake, Angela and I go shopping for lunch and breakfast. Angela handles the language. She enjoys. The two ladies at the boulangerie (bakery) are delightful. They have it down to a science. The younger lady takes the orders in a mixture of English and French (depends how much you try) and the older lady tallies on the register and collects the payment. Works great.

Deserts look great. They have Napoleons, but, of course, they are not called Napoleons so you point and gesture.

We take off for the day. A slow walk in the late morning. It is cool, but not quite the chilling cold of London. As we walk to the park, rain begins to look more and more likely.

The trees are not quite in bud. The flowers are planted and the ground is green. We stop at a café in the park. Always expensive, but always a memory.

(comment: the euro on this trip is about 1.12 to the US dollar, on the last trip, the euro was @ 1.27 so it is noticeable. Advice: when traveling, it does make a difference to use credit cards which do not have foreign currency charge (1%-3%) and debit cards which reimburse for ATM fees and currency)

We stop by the men playing Boules (Petanque). We play Bocce in Arizona. Same game, but different in style and execution. Boules takes experience to even play, Bocce is friendlier to beginners.d

It pours. We have forgotten umbrellas. A word on English and French weather forecasting - you would think that with 5,000 miles of ocean in front of them that they can see storms or cold fronts accurately.

We stay medium dry/medium wet under a roof where men are playing chess. As the rain turns to shower, we look for the Pantheon and lunch. John and Angela pick a crepe restaurant within a block of the Pantheon.

I have an omelet. Everyone else has various types of crepes.

Eighteen months ago, we never saw "crepes" or "cheeseburger" in Paris. No, the food is everywhere. Waffles also. Crepes are especially the "food". It is the "street food". Available, almost anytime but breakfast. The filling of choice is Nutella. But, everything is everything.

We walk to the Church of Saint-Sulpice. John and Angela go in. Caroline, Betty and I take photos. We separate. The three of us walk to The Shakespeare & Co.. Betty and I want to show Caroline. We want to revisit a new old friend.

It has changed. They have added to the right with the acquisition of the building to the right. It is small. There is now a coffee shop at the end of the building. Things have to change.

Strangely. it is crowded by tourists. It has always been tourists, but tourists who knew who Hemingway, Pound, Fitzgerald, Ford and Elliot were. These tourists have to ask and then wonder "who".

The coffee shop fits in. Young people trying make a living. The coffee and tea are tasty and we share a piece of cake.

It is a second date with a girl who will be a good friend, but not the girl of your dreams.

Back to the apartment for a dinner of bread, cheese and wine. No TV. I was looking forward to watching French TV.

Tomorrow. Musee D'Orsay.