Free Paris Letters by Janice MacLeod

Pickpockets! It’s a scam! They are trying to steal your money!” The thieves scattered, not wanting to make a scene so they could quickly get to the next set of tourists. When they left, I stopped flailing and kept walking, yelling back, “Have a nice vacation!” The middle-aged American couple looked baffled by the whole scene.
    Besides all the thieves, standing at the base of the Eiffel Tower and looking up was still breathtaking. Taking the elevator to the top and peering down at the rooftops of Paris was still marvelous. The only problem was that when I was standing at the top, the skyline of Paris didn’t look quite as it should. It was missing one element: the tower itself.
    Back on solid ground, I continued walking. This time I was on a mission to Le Bon Marché, one of Paris’s major department stores. The highlight here wasn’t the luxury purses or even the building itself, which was also designed by Gustav Eiffel. It was the food section. Since arriving in Paris, I had an insatiable appetite. Was it because I was walking so much or was it simply because I had deprived myself so often for so long?
    Walking into the store, I came upon the fish section. Glistening oysters lounging on platters of crushed ice and fish gawked with their stunned, staring eyes. I continued to the chocolate section and gasped at the gravity-defying sculptures. I stood mesmerized by rainbow walls of fruity confitures and marveled at vibrant shelves of canned sardines, mussels, and paté. I was mystified by round mounds of cheese ranging in shades from creamy brie and ashen chèvre to speckled blue Roquefort. At the pastry area, I became befuddled, trying to decide between the tart au citron (topped with a meringue toupee) and the multi-layered millefeuille. In the end, I bought them both. Later, when I sat on a bench in Jardin du Luxembourg, I realized I had made the right choice.
    A sliver of sunshine landed on me as I sat in the park, warming my cheeks. A few children were sailing toy sailboats in the fountain. A few men had hung their jackets on the racks (provided by the park) and had begun a game of boules nearby. I opened my notebook and scrounged around my bag for a pen.
    Dear Áine,
    I do a lot of walking in Paris. And on these walks, I come across plenty of statues. It’s as though the city is standing guard, looking out pensively at something important in the distance. Some of these statues are heroic generals, revolutionaries, or kings on horses. Others are serene like the collection of queens and duchesses at Jardin du Luxembourg. Anne Marie Louise d’Orléans, Duchess of Montpensier, was one of the greatest heiresses in history. She was a defiant young lady, refusing a string of proposals from European ruling families and wanting only to marry for love. When she was refused, she opted out of the scene and died unmarried and childless. Many admire her for her strength, but I like her because she is situated under a shady tree and looks out to a grand fountain where children sail toy boats.
    We spend a lot of time together, the duchess and I. She scored an excellent spot in the park—a nice trifecta of shade, people-watching, and silence. The fountain drowns out the sounds of nearby traffic, pierced only with the occasional police siren, which I don’t mind because it reminds me of Jason Bourne movies. James Bond movies too.
    The duchess doesn’t do as much exploring as I do around Paris, preferring to stay put as statues are wont to do. By the time I reach her, my dogs are barking, and I pull up a chair to rest my feet.
    We all must find places to explore in this world, but also places to rest. Paris is good about this. It’s easy to walk for hours. Once you’ve lost your way or your spunk, you’ll likely find a bench to sit and take a breather.
    The guy sitting near to me is reading Le Monde, the big French newspaper. There is a couple nearby reading a map. And dogs. A healthy population of prancing pups. There