Sunday, 11 May 2014
It all felt as though it was all just a dream. We were retracing our steps around Paris. We had been four years ago, just two weeks before I was diagnosed with my illness and when I was just about to start a new job and was full of enthusiasm for a new start and new future...
Round the next corner we came upon the magnificent Notre Dame once more. Its gothic glory looming high above the jovial festivities of the annual May 'Fete du Pain'. We carried on, following the path of the Seine to the Ile Saint Louis. I remembered this quiet little corner of Paris well, with its smart, chic shops - shops you want to peer in, but daren't go into. We were suddenly window shopping once more, just like before.
We were walking around the grounds of the Louvre once more, enjoying the busy spectre of the tourists, the haggling and hustling of the street vendors. The bold, glass pyramids loomed above it all against the backdrop of the graceful renaissance palace. We stood in awe, glad to be here enjoying it all yet again.
We drifted on past shops and pavement cafes underneath towering buildings and crossed the Seine to the Isle de la Citie, we passed Sainte Chappelle, with its medieval and gothic traits and found ourselves at the Marche aux Fleurs once more. It had started to rain - what better place to take refuge than under pavillions of perfumed hanging baskets, scented climbing plants and colourful roses in full bloom. There was a spring like atmosphere and wafts of jasmine and gardenia flurried in the air as we browsed each intricate stall of trinkets and flowers. How I had longed to be able to come here once more.
It was still raining so we ventured into a cafe for some lunch to warm us up. I felt as though I had just stepped into the picture on my kitchen wall. A typical French pavement cafe, shades of red and gold looking welcoming and inviting in the damp and wet. Waiters busy in black with their tasks of the day. We sat contented, people watching, watching the world go by, serene in our own little world.
We had had lunch here last time. To our delight, we stumbled upon the same restaurant, it was still there, Sorza on Rue Saint Louis. We couldn't resist the temptation to go back inside, so we boldly went in amongst the diners and asked if we could have a very English afternoon tea! Amused but polite, they were happy to oblige us.
Sitting back in this tiny French restaurant once more, was the moment I knew my dream was complete and wasn't a dream, but reality. Another dream that had come true. Deja vu. My life had come full circle, what goes around comes back around or so they say. I was back, just where I had left off... a lot had happened in between ... but here I was again, just like 'before', but obviously just a little bit 'different'. Once again building a new life, a new future....