Le Marais in the Morning

As today is our last jour complet, here are some observances about every day life in Le Marais prior to après-midi.  Prior to departing, I opened the double glazing and let Paris in.  Opposite at No. 9, residents have tied Monoprix and Carrefour bags to their ornate Juliet balconies to discourage pigeons.  Below, the hoarding hiding the shop renovations continues to be updated with the daily poster billing.  Yesterday's Taylor Swift is today's Karl Largerfeld.  Below at Cafe Carrefour, bamboo chair legs scrape on bitumen and tips clink on table tops.

In response to my cheery bonjour!, Kim merely turns and pulls the blanket up over her shoulder.  Our day at Versailles and our contretemps with the rail schedules seems to have taken its toll.  One visit to Versailles is worth a thousand lectures on the origin of the French Revolution.  We take lunch at Cafe Angeline dining in an anti chamber previously occupied by Marie Antoinette's chambermaids.  Yes, we ate cake!

Exiting our apartment, I jump clear as cleansing water pours from two holes above the gutter and sweeps yesterday's debris away.  Amidst the torrent a brewery truck advises we should drink in moderation as it delivers kegs of Kronenberg to our local bar Le Bouquet Des Archives where Happy Hour prices apply from 17.00 to 20.00.  Nearby is the Open corner bar that appears to restrict clientele to males.

Opposite, parents  are escorting their children to Ville De Paris Ecole Maternelle, our local infants school.  A crèche is around the corner according to the lollipop lady in fluro, who brings the traffic to a stop three times a day.  Pity she doesn't work during Happy Hour when pedestrians and bicyclists constantly cheat death.

I drink an early morning espresso at Le Chinon corner bar on Rue Des Francs Bourgois.  To my left a business man and his female colleague chat over Americains (long blacks) accompanied by glasses of water to dilute the coffee.  To my right, a woman dips pieces of her Pain du Raisin into her cafe creme and brushes crumbs off her briefcase.  Beer taps set into the zinc top bar are partnered by a water fountain used to rinse glasses.  Outside, two African women in colourful dresses step onto the pedestrian crossing after looking both ways.

Venturing deeper into the back streets, I pass darkened boutiques named Berenice and April, May that tempt passersby with subtle lighting of next seasons' fashions.  Tall elegant women with straight backs and high heels glance hauntingly as they peddle by with phones clamped to their ears.

At Bar Perle, an old woman tears the wrapping off a fresh packet of cigarettes as the waiter delivers her coffee.