The Disappearing Day, or: A Time Warp in Paris?
We got up Friday morning resolved to figure out our plans for Saturday and Sunday, since September 17-18 are Journées du Patrimoine — Heritage Days — in France. This holiday means that many museums are free and everybody gets special access to tons of buildings and sites usually closed to the public.
Imagine our surprise when we discovered that our Friday morning was actually… Saturday.
Now, there were some clues, like the fact that when we walked home last night we’d seen the poles and shelters that they put out the day before the outdoor market, which usually happens on Saturday.
“You think they’re doing it a day early because of the holiday?” we asked each other.
Then there were all the school kids running around like it was the start of the weekend–and the French people carrying luggage. “I guess the Thursday before a holiday is a big deal here. You’d think it’s Friday!” we said.
It sounds silly, but Arnie and I were both so convinced that it was still Thursday that we checked all of our devices and even got out an old-fashioned calendar.
We tried to figure out, based on what we did this week, what day it must be. Here’s our list:
Monday: Explored neighborhoods within walking distance without using the Metro (too close to September 11, and if the US is enemy #1, the French are not exactly popular with Muslim extremists, either). Lunch in Belleville, the Asian quarter. Spotted a bubble tea store.
Tuesday: trip to Nanterre to turn in more paperwork. Tour of Notre Dame. Played in park with Liam.
Wednesday: shopping at outdoor market. Purchased Metro pass for Ashley. Trip to public library to get library card while Liam rearranges books in children section and a grumpy French guy follows behind him putting them back. Checked out nursery schools for Liam. Trek to Auchan (kind of like Walmart, only with crappier stuff that costs more… but good for the Paris poor like us) to buy toys and try to find dried beans.
Thursday (allegedly): Checked out nursery schools for Liam. Trek to Auchan (kind of like Walmart, only with crappier stuff that costs more… but good for the Paris poor like us) to buy toys and try to find dried beans.
Thursday Friday: Play date with new friends and their toddler daughter in the morning. Got rained on. Continued quest for cheap, non-dairy protein source. (Success! dried black beans discovered in Asian market in Belleville.) More chicken soup for dinner.**
Apparently the day we lost was Thursday, and what we thought we did Wednesday afternoon really happened the next day. I don’t know if you can tell, but I’m still in denial about this whole thing. In my heart, I just don’t believe that the calendars are right. I’m still looking for the missing day…
** I accidentally made about 10 gallons of chicken soup that we will be eating until Christmas.