My Mother’s Day in Paris

Last weekend, I had the pleasure of taking a trip to Paris to see my mom, and that Sunday coincidentally was Mother’s Day in the Isles. While my journey did begin at 4 am with a half cooked piece of pita bread at an airport café, it ended with a belly full of baguettes, cheeses, and a variety of meats. But most importantly I returned home with mother’s day love warming my heart, and I assure this was not just because my arteries were clogged.                                                                             

Upon arriving at the hotel, I saw my mother for the first time in 2 months. After we embraced, we went to the hotel room, and as I looked out the window, I saw children playing soccer in an old Roman coliseum. Now when someone says the line, “I fell in love instantly,” it seems disingenuous. But two hours later I sat in the Coliseum smitten with Paris, not to mention chewing some saucisson and reading 1984.

But back to my reunion with my mother, after we met at the hotel, she took me to a café where I got a cheese platter and ate two baskets of baguette. After this, my mother and I walked to The Shakespeare and Company bookstore where I got to buy 1984 as well as Fyodor Dostoyevsky’s The Gambler. After this, she had to go back to her conference, so this is when I had my time in the coliseum.

After a quick nap, my mother and I decided that I ought to try escargot. Not only did this restaurant have escargot, but it was pesto escargot. And after this, I had some well braised Duck and roasted potatoes. As I write this, I realize that my writings are devolving into a food blog, but that’s ok.

The next day, we obviously had the galette, but my mother and I went to the Picasso museum together, which featured an entire section about his wife Olga. It makes you realize how crazed these writers were to cheat on such sweet and beautiful wives. After that, we spent the night reading together outside.

On my last day, my mother and I went to La Crete and the Pompidou. Obviously the lamb was to die for at the restaurant, but I was also pleasantly surprised by the Pompidou’s early 20^th century Russian art collection such as the works of Martin Chagall and Kazimir Malevich.

So it was a wonderful way to spend Mother’s day weekend, and there was no better way to spend it than in Paris.