Paris Day 2, or How I ended up at Buffalo Bill's

Woke up this morning hungry. Very hungry. But not hungry for food from the local supermarket. No, hungry for some good French open-air market food. So, I poured through my tour books, and found one open on Saturday in the 13eme arrondisment. Then studied how to best get there by Metro (I love the Parisian public transport!), and trooped out the door ... only to find that there was a little market right in Maubert square! Huzzah! Wandered around admiring the beautiful flowers, pungent cheeses, and proud grocers. Settled on two types of cheese, a large bag of spring greens, a handful of rosy cherry tomatoes, a bacony baguette, and an apple pastry. Brunch was wonderful.

Also found the supermarket on the next street over, where I stocked up on essentials. The toilet paper and laundry detergent were easy enough to identify, but I deliberated a long time over what was actually bath soap and lotion.

Took myself out to the Rodin park. Yes, I do want to visit the museum, but I figured that I'll see it with Mom and Aunt Yo, or even wih Ginger. So, I paid my one euro and entered into a wonderful space. Yes, you could hear the low hum of cars passing outside the garden gates, but only if you tuned out the chirping birds. The garden is very peaceful. The statuary outside is mostly bronze, although there was a large set of display cases with some of his marble-work in it. Whenever I see bronze statues, I always think of the painter in that book about the Passion Play (wish I could remember the title), who liked to paint people as if they were a bronze statue. It seems as if most of the European statues are of men, with some women about to accent larger tableux, whereas I remember more female statues from Roman times. Anyway, Rodin's work is so powerful. Very earthy. I can't wait to see more of the marble pieces when I come back.

Also to be on exhibit in a few days is the work of Camille Claudel. She and Rodin had an 8 year affair during which she was his model and worked on his sculptures.

From 1905, Claudel started having mental health issues. Depression, paranoia, secluded living, destroyed many of her art works. In 1913, shortly after the death of their father, her brother had her placed in a psychiatric institution, where she remained until her death 30 years later, despite physician recommendations that she be taken home again.

Through all this time, Rodin continued to live with his mistress Rose Beuret, who also modelled for him. He didn't seem to have a very high opinion of her. He married her in 1917, fifty three years into their relationship, and two weeks before her death, possibly to ensure care for their son, who was mentally disabled. Rodin died later that year. I wonder how Claudel and Beuret would describe him. Philanderer? Misogynist? I wonder what they would have to say about their own lives?

Back to the apartment for a much needed nap.

Got up later and got ready to leave for Le Moving, the dance club out in Thiais. The thing is, I could get out there by train, but since the Parisian trains stop running about 10pm, I would need a ride back into the city. Pas had said that he could arrange a ride for me, but I hadn't even met him yet, and so I was a little anxious. Not anxious enough to not go ... but enough so that I took enough money for cab fare back.

Got the the RER C line, and took it south. Choisy Le Roi is about the 5th stop, and so I was ready to count. It wasn't until the second stop that I began to be worried. The stops were so far apart. When I finally consulted the map, it turns out that the train ahd totally bypassed six stations! I got off, and was able to run around to the other side, catch the train back one stop to a larger station, where I was able to get on the train that stopped at Choisy. Yikes!

At the Choisy station, I found a map that indicated that the Bus 9 went to Belle Epine, where the club Le Moving was. So, I went in search of the bus stop. To no avail. Went one way, that didn't work. Checked back with the map at the station, and took a digital photo to help. Tried the other way, and that didn't work either. Then I asked a kindly faced ethnic woman on the street, in my broken French, and she directed me in very good English to the TGV, which went directly to Belle Epine.

Except that Le Moving is one stoop before BE! But I missed the stop, and had to go on to BE and backtrack. When I thankfully arrived at the gate, it was closed, with no signs as to when it would open. So it was that I went next door to Buffalo Bill's for some dinner and to keep warm. So kitschy. And yet it was pretty busy. I had the Pony Express meal, which I don't recommend, as it was the most complete cheap meal. Tucked the roles and cookie into my bag for later, and tried to enjoy the salad, fries and ground buffalo steak. The creme brulee mostly made up for the tourist food.

When I finally made my way back to Le Moving, it was getting crowded. There was a line down the stairs and out the door. Sadly, most of the people were there for the salsa dancing, but the WCS crowd was pretty good. The lessons were taught by Olivier and Amandine. And even though I had a hard time following them verbally, it was easy enough for me to pick up on the steps by watching and doing.

Pas didn't arrive until about 2230, but recognized me easily enough, and came and introduced himself. Luckily, his English is pretty good. And his dancing is wonderful. And he's tall enough to do all those underarm turns that I've been secretly envying the short girls for. And he introduced me to a lot of other leaders as well. By far, the best was Kofi, who I'd been admiring already, who just made all the steps seem so danceable and easy, and who danced in the music instead of shoving patterns on top of the music. I also really liked dancing with ShortGuyLongPonytail, whose name I couldn't catch. Pas also introduced me to Leticia, who's attended undergrad and graduate school in the states. Her English is very good, and if she hadn't told me, I would have thought (in the loud music of the club) that she was from the US.

We stayed until about 0300. That made for six hours of dancing. My legs were about ready to fall off, and I felt extremely sad for the guys who dancing with me toward the end of the night, since my shirt was rather moist. However, since there were those who kept asking, so who was I to deny them ... or me? Really, it was more than I've danced ever in one single night.

Leticia gave us a ride back to Paris. So nice of her! And I arranged to meet Pas for a group lesson, and some early evening dancing.

Got into the apartment. Quickly showered, and collapsed into bed. It was 0415.