Chocolat

Last week I stumbled upon Parc des Buttes Chaumont. Well not really, I was supposed to meet a tutor there weeks ago, but missed it due to getting on a train that took me somewhere that I'm almost positive was not in Paris.  I finally made my way there after attempting to have a stroll by the Canal St. Martin. The canal decided to take a break from being charming to being empty. It's insides, fully exposed, revealed 3 tricycles, a deflated 3 foot dinosaur toy, a moped and heaps of trash. After that plan was ruined, I realized I was close to the Parc des Buttes Chaumont and not much else. This park is a weirdly wonderful, fairy world hidden in the 19th. I conquered the hilly terrain, and at the top found Rosa Bonheur. I had a glass of Champagne there to celebrate being alive and whatever.  

After the champagne, I experienced  a wave of panic at the thought of only having a a little time left in Paris. There's so much more I want to do here, things that I don't even know about yet! I remembered hearing about Angelina, which is said to have the best hot chocolate in Paris. I took a 40 min metro ride to the Rue du RIvoli and was met with a 30 min line outside of Angelina. I decided to not wait in line to have a cup of overpriced, hot chocolate indoors, and settled on buying a cup of overpriced, hot chocolate from the cart outside. Angelina knows what the people want. I'd like to tell you that it was worth it, but I can't. I left feeling a little tricked.

In a more dangerous story, there was a possible, attempted robbery at the house this week.The Mom had casually mentioned, on the first day, that they sometimes have robbers at the house, but that they have a good alarm system now.  Fast forward to me waking up at 3 am to the sound of that alarm system coupled with french screams. I quickly realized that I am not a hero, as my first instinct was  to break open an empty glass bottle (fine, it was a wine bottle)  and climb out my window. The screams and alarms were followed by the banging of what I prayed were Police. I texted the Mom to ask if everything was ok, to which she replied "Yes, thank you Tara good night! ." No, not  good night! The next morning I was informed that the alarm went off and she thought she saw a man opening the window on the baby monitor but that the police couldn't find anyone. I've upped my escape plan by moving the chair in my room up next to the window and sleeping with a knife. Bonne nuit!

 



Tara Cunningham