Last Dance

It was our last evening in Paris and we hurried across town to a favorite restaurant just off the Saint Germain de Pres. There was a light rainfall that slowed down our two Metro, Paris crossing.

The name of the restaurant is le Relais de l’Entrecote; it is very close to the Saint Germain church and the trendy cafes and boutiques of that Boulevard. There is only one thing on the menu, steak and the best pomme frites in Paris; they also do not take reservations, but it is all you can eat.

We joined the nightly line in front of this very popular restaurant and waited our turn. The waitresses scurry about in French maid dresses to feed whatever fantasies may beat in your bad boy breast.

The rooms are always full and noisy; there were lots of families having dinner in this traditional restaurant. The rise and fall of voices is accompanied with hand gestures, laughing, and good feelings. It is all very French. Cigarette smoke swirls around the room from enthusiastic smokers; the coming restaurant smoking ban is January first. Seventy percent of the country supports the ban but a loyal tobacco group is evident.

We talked over our trip and discussed our return home on the following day. An Asian couple next to us chimed in about their trip; of course they were from San Francisco and going to a wedding in Tuscany.

Our umbrellas are drying in the bath tub and we are waiting to pack in the morning. Put this trip in the journal, it is official and it is history.