We are the Lethargarians June 18, 2019

A long time ago we built jet lag into our travel plans and quit worrying about it. If we want to sleep, we do it. The clock be damned.

Even if we get a good night’s rest over the ocean (and I didn’t) there still comes a time the next day when it catches up with me. It knocked us both out today, and we let it.

Got up for the best breakfast in the world — not missing that of course!!

Puffy faced sleep monsters
Perfect bread, perfect croissants, perfect butter, perfect everything
Really good ham. And I don’t eat meat.
The sources of perfection

Then back to the room, unbearably sleepy. Barely shed my clothes before I was out. Jerry took his Kindle to the Jardin de Luxembourg and fell asleep there in the sun. Woke up, came back to the room, and continued on sleeping.

Lovely, perfect day. Windows open to the spring air and chatter of Paris. Breeze moving the curtains. Napping off and on. Reading things I never have time to read. Napping some more.

Skipped lunch on account of having over-indulged in the best breakfast in the world. Read, napped, repeat.

At 6 pm we got ourselves up. Took a walk and ended up at our favorite pizza place, Pizzeria da Pietro. Shared, as always, a huge platter of marinated grilled vegetables, sopping up the oil with great crusty bread (the thump, thump of the bread guillotine they use to slice the baguettes is the background music in this place.)

Assiette des legumes frais

Torn between pizza and pasta we ordered both.

Margherita pizza with mushrooms. So, not a margherita pizza. Oh, well.

And a sizzling cast iron dish of caramelized eggplant gratinee with a side of spaghetti with garlic and oil.

Aubergine gratinee, aka eggplant parm
Giving it the old college try, and not making a dent

We left at least half. Richard Pacelle, where are you? (Never mind, I know where you are.) Usually I have profiteroles for dessert but it wasn’t happening.

Stuffed to the max we strolled to Saint Sulpice and almost got run over by a crowd of boys playing rugby on cobblestones. Ouch (them, not us. We dodged to safety.)

Decided it was a sign we belonged back in our room and back we came. Jerry is sound asleep already. I’m writing in the tub, not far behind.

Reminds me of these feckless creatures in one of my favorite books, The Phantom Tollbooth. We put on the play in the 6th grade. The Lethargarians were these little, well, lethargic guys who hung out, in trees if memory serves, and planned their days around naps and rests and taking breaks. They lived in the Doldrums and they yawned a lot. I kind of feel them on day two of travel.

So glad for the time, the place, and the company to indulge our lethargarian whims.

The Doldrums are not our normal habitat. Tomorrow I have to FaceTime with a student at 1:00. We have the world’s greatest breakfast in the morning, naturally, and then dinner here at Le Comptoir (yay!) so lunch will be light. But I do think we might actually get out and do something tomorrow besides eat. Maybe.

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