what could be more appropriate on x'mas eve in paris than attending the 8pm mass at notre dame and being transported to another, far more inspiring zone? i am here to spend x'mas and new year with my daughter. it has been a charming reversal of roles - here is arundhati taking complete charge of my life and time. my instructions are 'not to write' while i am in paris. i don't have the heart to tell her that's like saying, ' not to breathe'. so writing in any form has become a clandestine operation. i write secretely while she is in the shower.but since i am using her mac book, i am slower than usual and fear i'm going to get caught one of these days.
meanwhile, i am struggling to walk around in knee high boots that kill. the wind chill factor will get me if chillbains don't. it is bitterly cold, but the delicious vin chaud sold at street corners can warm up anybody. i love it! as we strolled past some of our favourite haunts on the left bank, sipping wine and chatting about life, i forgot the cold, my frozen toes, all the other nagging problems moms burden their kids with. we were just two women enjoying paris together. mellow and wonderful.
after mass, we went in search of dinner - the heavy police presence around the notre dame was reassuring. but we were hungry and cold, and oblivious to danger. nearly every famliar place was shut or shutting early. but we stumbled upon a real gem , just opposite the george cinq , a little off the champs elysee. an italian restaurant called fendi. it was a brilliant choice buzzing with people in great spirits. over sancerre and sea bass, we bonded some more, before grabbing a cab and getting back to her apartment, where she had generously vacated her comfy bed for me. god bless daughters.
merry x'mas blog dosts.