Today the weather has been slightly cloudy and cold but even still I talked myself into doing my preliminary readings for one of my courses in Parc Montsouris which is right across the street from my apartment.
Since most things are closed on Sundays, the parks of France tend to be particularly crowded these days and I was not surprised to note that Montsouris was no exception. The park was full of playing families while runners filled the pathways and old people sat on the benches looking on all the rest. I chose a bench not very far from the entrance but close enough that I could dash back to my apartment quickly in the event of a downpour.
I passed almost 2 and a half hours there reading and listening to little snippets of passing conversation and the occasional clip of pony hooves when they would pass with children on their backs.
I always love the parks best here because they are the places where I feel that I cease to be viewed as a tourist and I just am. Sure, the French definitely know I am not one of them with our greatly differing appearances and dress styles, but nor am I of the same sort of loud American tourist which they are used to.
So I read and they go about their lives. Occasionally our gazes meet and then we look away. And then I continue reading and they continue on with their lives.
Since most things are closed on Sundays, the parks of France tend to be particularly crowded these days and I was not surprised to note that Montsouris was no exception. The park was full of playing families while runners filled the pathways and old people sat on the benches looking on all the rest. I chose a bench not very far from the entrance but close enough that I could dash back to my apartment quickly in the event of a downpour.
I passed almost 2 and a half hours there reading and listening to little snippets of passing conversation and the occasional clip of pony hooves when they would pass with children on their backs.
I always love the parks best here because they are the places where I feel that I cease to be viewed as a tourist and I just am. Sure, the French definitely know I am not one of them with our greatly differing appearances and dress styles, but nor am I of the same sort of loud American tourist which they are used to.
So I read and they go about their lives. Occasionally our gazes meet and then we look away. And then I continue reading and they continue on with their lives.
No comments:
Post a Comment