email from Paris, Fall 2003
Again I do not have several months reports on the state of things in the Seine. At least for the summer I can give to my partial relief that our "Canicule" to German "dog days", not just some 11 000 older Paris wiped out, forcing employees of undertakers to stop the well deserved summer holiday in Brittany, while the president calmly continue resting in Canada. The private computer refused busy writing my fingers several times the following, and turned quickly turned from self to melt instead. It seems very fitting that this be described as artificial intelligence.
smart Just as the computer, my parents were not, however. They were on time on the hottest weekend since the battle of Verdun in the Passage Alexandrine on the mat and was on the 60th My mother's birthday, be entertained. Just to illustrate how hot it really was, I would point out that even the birthday girl occasionally visited the shadows and sunlight was not used to fall to the asphalt, rather than the crisp browning of six decades to deepen a little. Only he who knows them, knows what that means!
After all, we managed the money we had saved by clever work around a big birthday celebration with many guests to squander a single meal. The restaurant, which Julia had recommended that I should be more elegant dawned on me the first time, as the friendly tourist guide us during our cruise on the Seine - the Unfortunately, hardly the hoped for, refreshing breeze brought with it-first on Notre Dame on our right and then to the famous restaurant "Tour d 'Argent' attention to our left did. The suspicion was confirmed; as we pulled up in hope of a few minutes in air conditioning with cooled air taxi outside the restaurant, where we fully formed a gentleman received, the condemned had to brave the heat in the livery. When the waiter zuhauchte me shortly thereafter, the sommelier would not be long in coming, my beads of sweat appeared on his forehead that had little to do with the dog days. I secretly cursed me because I had never asked myself the question, for which the French actually spend the money they save by renovating their homes and vowed never to ask the next time more accurately if you recommend an excellent restaurant for the birthday of my mother.
brightened the meantime, my mother's face a little, because they found that their food had no prices. The joy was however short-lived, as it turned out acting, is the ladies card. However, my father was told very clearly what costs would arise if we chose the duck confit at Holundersoße with Steinpilzgarnierung. In the end we forced the women's card to us as far as possible, but possible to unobtrusively sit on our spacious table and we preferred food and zuzuzischen corresponding prices, until we had put together a menu with which we could rely to some extent spared the restaurant again. Fortunately, I managed also to let me not getting involved from the sommelier, who was, strictly speaking, a lady in a discussion about the quality of their wines, some of which matched in value to a small car. I politely but firmly ordered the cheapest juice of the vine, which I could find on the map. Now I secretly cherish the wish to visit this elegant restaurant at a suitable opportunity with Silke, just to see what happens to the women's card, if not a gentleman Here to watch the prices.
was the end, the birthday dinner but despite sky-high prices but still in the family annals as one of the great shared experiences one. We ordered all three of the duck, which is served since the time of Henry the third party at this restaurant and even at his banquets Richelieu often served as a main course. For several decades, each duck, leaving this fine cuisine, counted, and the accompanying guest will receive a card with their number as a souvenir for the journey. On the way my father could compare to his return his number with a legacy of the neighbors whose grandfather during the occupation of Paris in the Second World War II, the duck at Tour d'Argent had tasted even very good.
Because of the heat you can hardly blame my father, that he in Bermuda shorts, sandals and a baseball cap clearly recognizable as Super Tourist ran through Paris, when he is not in the Tour d'Argent duck ate. However, there was this costume is definitely for all this, of which the urban passenger transport company RATP is talking about when it warns its passengers, they may not lead into temptation pickpockets.
almost mandatory and, as by his own fault because my father was also at "nation" when entering the line 9 by two young men jostled, which immediately left the Metro, but when he had finally fought with puzzled expression in the car. Neither the RATP even the pickpockets, however, had counted on the courage of their French compatriots. At the other end of the car made us the same moment a passenger on the infamous theft with pointed "Voleur, voleur 'attention-screaming" Stop thief ". And so we were immediately assisted by the French on the prosecution of the juvenile offender, rather than not knowing to go home and the loss of the purse until hours later to notice. The Frenchman was achieved by incorporating the courageous pedestrians not, indeed, to reach the civilian arrest of the thief, because the wall is quickly out of his jacket, where he was arrested. But he did it after all, drop the purse. And so it went from this adventure, the German-French friendship clearly stronger position, it would have cost without anyone even for a center, aside from the thief, who lost his jacket.
For physical survived this time my parents visit their comparatively good. Although saw my mother, stepping on pavement not used to it after a few days, forced to buy new shoes that were soaked in blood as soon as possible. But when one compares it to that my father in be the last visit to hospital with suspected thrombosis, and then take another ten days, a so-called Zinkleinverband had, this is real progress.
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