PARIS

I visited it for the first time in 1969 on a school trip before graduation, and a second time ten years later during a European trip. After checking into our hotel rooms at Porte Montmartre and picking up our rental cars, we went downtown that evening to see the Eiffel Tower illuminated. There were so many people there, we wanted to eat the last of the crepes, but the police arrested the poor vendor for illegal selling and took everything away. Stunned, and given the late hour, we decided to walk back along the Seine to the next metro station, which we found closed for renovations. So, disheartened, we ordered two Uber taxis that took us to the hotel for 45 euros. The next day, everyone wanted to visit Notre Dame, restored after the fire, but when we arrived there were hundreds of tourists queuing, so I gave up, preferring to visit the nearby Quais d'Orsay museum, which houses all the major Impressionist painters as well as several fine statues. Before arriving, I walked along the banks of the Seine, observing the bateaux mouches that welcome tourists for river cruises and the stalls selling books, magazines, and period paintings. I also passed through the courtyard of the Louvre without entering, having already visited it twice. I managed to escape from a group of gypsies who had tried to corner me in a narrow passageway and rob me. Further on, I took the metro to the Champs-Élysées and walked along it to the Arc de Paix Observing the ateliers of the various French fashion houses (not a trace of the Italian ones). I took the metro once again to Montmartre, where I climbed the various steps until I reached the artists' square, which had changed considerably. The portrait painters are still there, but most of the space has been taken up by bistros, which was once free, and on the sides. In the group chat, I noticed that my companions had booked dinner at the Taverne Montmartre at the base of the hill. I reached it, and there I waited for them for three hours, sitting at the bar. There, I met two beautiful and elegant women from New York, an Italian woman from Naples but living in Basel with her Syrian husband and two teenage daughters, and finally a nice couple from Stuttgart. One last sad note: the ITA Airways counters at C. de Gaulle Airport are relegated to the back, among anonymous and unknown airlines. Regardless, I really enjoyed this trip because of the many beautiful things I saw.