Sunday, our last day in Paris, is cold and wet, so we felt no real obligation to go out and do anything. Besides, Saturday would have been hard to top.
But by early afternoon, we felt like getting out a bit, so we walked around the corner to one of the little restaurants we have frequented so many times. At our first visit, the bartender said he could fix a Bloody Mary, and what’s better on a cold, dreary Sunday than a tasty Bloody Mary? His were the best we have had in Paris, spicy but not too Tabasco-ed up. And at 7.20 each, the least expensive too.
We ate in, enjoying a pot of chicken soup Lynn had made from the last roasted chicken we had bought down at the Maubert market. Then it was time for a last Havana Club and NFL football game at Pomme d’Eve. We shook hands with Steve the presumed owner and promised to return. We all agreed that this little neighborhood is the best of Paris.
We will return, perhaps in an apartment on a lower floor.