Dear Sofie,
Your first breakfast in Paris consisted of two croissants
and a variety of macaroons. I am pretty sure this is considered a parenting
fail, but whatever. We managed to find a nearby bakery that promised a peanut
free environment. I was dubious, but you seemed comfortable with the odds, and
I was told to trust you, so off you went. I believe your biggest thrill was
paying in coins with the machine in front of the cashier. You carefully inserted
your payment and squealed a tiny bit when the change came pouring out.
“Cool!”
You were on your second macaroon before we were ten metres
away. I asked, in as casual a voice as I could muster, how long it usually took
you to react when dealing with peanuts.
“Almost immediately,” you shrugged. Then you walked towards
the entrance to the metro. I decided not to insist on bringing out the epi pen.
Your first art stop was L’Orangerie to visit the famous
Monet installation. The building itself was designed to protect an orange
grove, but the trees are long gone now and in its place is a gift to a World
War I weary city in need of a place of quiet reflection. Monet was inspired by
his garden and we worked diligently on this piece as his eyes continued to fail
him. We can see the approaching darkness in the work. You would later recall
how the work was unfinished in places, the canvass laid bare for all to see.
We journeyed next to the Museé D’Orsay
and you were immediately enthralled by the massive space and beautiful
architecture of the place. We explained at how it used to be a train station
and you said you could recognise it as such. But you were totally taken aback
at the amount of work and effort was put into “just a train station”. We
explained about the first impressions a city wants to make on visitors; about
point of pride and a demonstration of grandeur. But this was a foreign concept
to you. You were baffled that so much art and love could be found in a public
building.
We walked through the forest of
sculptures and I introduced you to David and Goliath and Artemis and Acteon and
wise old blind Oedipus and his daughter Elektra. We looked at paintings with
rich, deep tones and imagery born of old stories. You compared the brush strokes
of Van Gogh with those of Monet that you saw earlier in the day.
But throughout the visit you kept
your eye on the large clock that dominated the building. You were clearly
enamoured with it. You spoke of its beauty and its immensity and wondered how
one would wind it.
After a lunch in which you were
introduced to escargots still in the shell and the origin of the snotty French
waiter concept, we went to the Arc du Triumph. After climbing the stairs to the
top I knew I had done some damage almost immediately. I am too old and too fat
for this kind of experience! We must have been up there for about an hour
looking around at the city. As we looked down at the Champs Elysees we spoke
about Hitler and du Gaul and the wealthy and visual connection between this
site and the Louvre and the financial district .
And we watched the frenetic
traffic below as the cars encircled us and miraculously nobody was killed.
On our way home you helped us
find groceries for dinner and worked the machine that pressed fresh oranges for
us for juice in the morning. We arrived
back in the flat and I cooked you a creamy salmon dish and we ate around that
tiny counter perched upon those impossibly high chairs. The three of us, tired
from our journey, ate and spoke quietly.
I suppose I should tell you this
secret now, Sofie. Eric and I have been told we are quite generous to bring you
to this wonderful city. But the truth of it all is this: it is actually quite
selfish of us. The universe unfolded in such a way that we were not able to
have our own children. This is a painful and sad story that can be told another
day in the far future. But suffice to say we were disappointed. Luckily for us,
your parent had you and your sister. And twelve years later we cannot imagine our lives without you two.
It’s like you been with us forever. This trip, was our opportunity to show you
the world, not only as a traveler, but as we see it as travelers. The generous
ones were not us, my dear. It was your parents for allowing us the honour and opportunity
to take you.
Watching you today and seeing
your eyes light up was pure gold for us.
We ended the day with an evening
cruise on the Seine where you saw many of the highlights of the city. We met
some friends of Eric and they joined us. I was impressed with how easy going
you were. You engaged in conversation willingly and made a real effort to make
them feel welcome in our little group. This is further proof that you are no
longer a child.
We came home really late after a
post-tour coffee with our friends and the longest flight of stairs in metro
history. Also, we had to stop for another drink so you could use the bathroom.
At 1pm we insisted you call home and you told your parents everything that had
happened since.
I felt bad for your folks being
so far away from you. But I also felt grateful to them for letting us spirit
you away on this adventure. As you went to bed to sleep the sleep of the
innocent I felt happy. But I also felt a little sad because the day we would
return you to the arms of your parents was approaching fast.
:-)
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