Finally sitting down for dinner. I had no idea that the glorious meal would become such an adventure. And even sitting down, the journey hadn’t come to an end. I would like this to settle down soon, though.
I’m sat in Le Jardin du Roy, with a glass of syrup du menthe and a bottle of Evian. It was meant to be lemonade, but they had run out. Which meant that my dark rum and lemonade was served neat. I’m no rum connoisseur but even I could tell that it wasn’t a dark rum just by looking at it. And by smelling it, I could also tell it wasn’t rum. Tasting it told me that it was most likely whisky. La facture at the end of the meal will tell me. That’s if my vision doesn’t give out first. From the alcohol, not the light. I noticed this evening, when I stood on one of the bridges looking out to the Tour Eiffel, that the sun was slowly setting. It was a twenty-minute gap before I reached the side of the Pantheon and the sky had already brought about a mild darkness. It was the same darkness as last night except back then, it was illuminated by my proximity to the tower, herself. However, for the returning exploration of the Left Bank, the darkened hour was pierced by Boulevard St. Germain, with her shop windows and splattering of intoxicated and unsatiated café patrons.
I had decided to walk along the boulevard to go and check out Les Deux Magots and Café de Flores. They were around in the twenties and synonymous with Hemingway and his compatriots. I packed my new writing bag with very little; this notebook, powerbank, playing cards and my rarely used asthma pump. Off I went, finding Boulevard St Germain very easily as it’s the northern most main road south of the Seine (not including Quai de Montebello, which is the road that actually follows the Seine). The gentle curvature of the street is unnoticeable and the throngs of passing masses all seemed to flow with neither disruption nor disturbance. What I found upon arrival at the venues was not what I expected. As an inquiring mind on the topic of the Lost Generation’s most masculine male author, I don’t really know what I was wanting to find. Yet, I knew that these two magnificent establishments would be fighting for attention from the world’s customers. Yes, they were busy. And no, I didn’t go in either of them. Does this allow me to pass my opinion on either? A lot of people would say no, some may say yes and to be honest, the majority wouldn’t even care. But I do.