We turned the wrong way at Bastille (which is on a roundabout of truly french proportions) and ended up walking along the short canal between there and the Seine, rather than finding our way to Canal Saint Martin…
but once again, getting turned about in Paris was great fun. It was gorgeous weather for a walk and we paused at a couple of play grounds along the side of the canal. Louis played, I read my kindle, Elena slept. It was lovely.
The canal we were aiming for would have been a huge hike and we were all wasted by the time we finished even our shorter variation. We got to the Seine and realised we’d gone the wrong way, but it had been such a nice walk no one minded. Plus we were hungry and it was Easter Monday, so sandwiches for lunch seemed more likely available in tourist-trap areas like Ile Saint Louis.
Armed with yummy sammies and a few other treats, we found a spot in the sun, on the seine, and ate, looking up at Notre Dame, and at the teenagers posing for photos, an artist painting the scene, american tourists on hired bikes, the occasional pair of arm-locked lovers… all very postcard of Paris in fact.
But I bought old, used postcards instead of glossy new ones. They sell them at lots of the stalls, with old stamps and postmarks, someone’s scrawly handwriting and sepia-toned pictures of Paris – I suppose they picked them up from estate sales or something. People have been sending millions of postcards from Paris for a long time now, I guess.
I’m not going to send mine. I’m posting this on the internet instead. Tres modern!