I had a déclic—a realization—recently, while riding the 92 bus home from my weekly doubles tennis game: An amazing proportion of my Paris life, and Charlie’s, has happened within eyeshot of this line. My association began in the summer of 1977, when I had a journalism...
Grieving for a departed husband is no walk in the park. But a walk in the park helps. I’d been unsure how I’d feel when I returned to Paris after Charlie’s passing. We’d lived here full-time for 27 years, and only transferred to the U.S. because the advanced cancer...
I just proved it’s possible to walk through a large section of Paris without seeing a single Haussmanian building. That is, the architectural style that embodies the city: cream-colored stone, grilled balcony railings, ornate decorations. This wasn’t Francie’s and my...
In these dark times, I decided to visit a lighthouse. Like most of us, I needed a beacon of hope. And what a lighthouse it was. I chose Cordouan mainly because it was easier to reach from Paris than the lighthouses around Brittany. I didn’t realize at first that it...
He sleeps surrounded by gilded artwork. The remnants of his power are all around: his minions nearby, the names of the battles he fought posted everywhere. A golden statue, right arm raised, depicts him in regal fashion. An enormous triumphal arch commissioned by him...
