Day 5 in Paris

When we get to the Montmartre cemetery it means we are almost "home".

We are beginning to get into a pretty nice little routine around her, my Mom and I.

We are waking up a bit earlier each morning as our bodies adjust to this new time zone and we spend our first few hours having coffee and checking emails, planning our day and plotting on maps, eating our breakfast and having our showers.

We set off around noon and walk for an hour or two until we arrive at wherever our first destination may be.

Today it was the Musée de L’Orangerie to see the beautiful and tranquil large format waterlily series by Monet. From there we walked over to have lunch at Café de Flore and then we strolled through the Tuileries in the warm late afternoon sunshine. Then I dragged my poor Mom over to the very trendy Colette Store on the Rue Saint Honoré where blogger extraordinaire David Lebovitz was doing a ice cream sundae demonstration and book signing. We missed the ice cream part but were there just in time to purchase a copy of The Perfect Scoop and then I waited briefly in line to have Mr. Lebovitz sign it for me. He seems like a sweet and mellow guy.

After the book signing I was all ready to start walking home with my Mom when she finally put her foot down. I sometimes forget that my sweet Mom is almost 70. For one thing she certainly doesn’t look it and for the most part she doesn’t act like it either. However, she does has a moderate form of psoriatic arthritis and is not a super big walker in her daily life at home and so I have noticed she will sometimes be silently wincing when the walking has gone on a bit too long.

My Mom may not be a marathon runner but she is no wuss. When I offered to take her home on the Metro she waved me off told me to enjoy my walk home and set off with her ipad map towards the nearest station. In the end I was a bit worried, only because I wasn’t entirely sure of my route home and she has a much better sense of direction than I do.

By the time I made it to the bridge that crosses over the Montmartre cemetery I knew where I was and that I was almost home. This is a beautiful cemetery especially in the early evening summer light. François Truffaut is buried here.

I stopped in to get a baguette from a new boulangerie that we were wanting to try and a few groceries from the Fran Prix to make a light supper for us.

My Mom was waiting for me, working on her journal and eating macarons.

Perhaps we will take the metro to and from our adventures tomorrow.