About a boy

To those of you who said I would meet someone in Paris and never come back, well, it hasn't happened-yet.

I did however meet a really nice french guy on my first afternoon in the city.  But, let me back track, I'm getting ahead of myself...

After my hike through Montmartre I decided that I would reward myself with some ice cream (it was sunny and nearly 80 degrees out that day).  Not just any ice cream though, the famous Berthillon ice cream, found on Ile Saint Louis.  I took the metro down towards the Seine and when I finally popped out from underground, what do I see?  Oh, just the top of the Eiffel Tower- for the first time (in person at least) in my life.  It was quite spectacular to say the least and I guess I finally realized I was in Paris.  Wow!

I walked along the Seine until I reached Ile Saint Louis and found Berthillon.  I waited patiently in line for my un boule chocolate, even when a flash rain storm threatened the entire line of ice cream enthusiasts.  Although, I have to say, the rain was nothing compared to the waiter at the neighboring bistro chastising all of us for being under "his" awning.  Even the mademoiselle scooping our ice cream was worried and ushered us all away from the neighboring Napoleon wannabe.

After I had my insanely tasty ice cream cone in hand and the rain let up a bit I strolled down by the river to take a seat and finish enjoying my afternoon.  A young man asked me for the time and we started talking.  He invited me up to a cafe for some coffee and gave me some great suggestions on what to do and where to go in the city and good day trip tips too!  It was nice and we continued talking while we walked over towards the 7th where I had an apartment to look at.  He pointed out free church concerts and a funny tidbit about how there is a naughty sculpture in the tower of Notre Dame (if you ever get up there please verify).  He even took me to a secret garden in the Latin Quarter (he had the code) and told me about how one of the buildings used to be a printing press.  Apparently, writers would use the space above the restaurant across the way to produce their work and when they were satisfied they would ring this bell and a boy would run it over to the press.  Now, I don't know if he made that up and I really don't care . . .  I was in Paris and if this was one of those tours where you sign up for the things you want to do, being led around by a knowledgeable Parisian would be on the top of my list!

Needless to say, I was very late for my appointment! 
 
xx