High tide on the Seine

I’d heard about it, read about it, and today, saw it for myself. Without doubt, the waters are high on the banks of the Seine.

A request from my princess for some ‘girls only’ time saw us meandering through the well-dressed crowds in the Marais as we headed to the Maison Victor Hugo.  Having climbed the stairs and trodden the floorboards, our one disappointment was the restriction of access to the bibliotheque.  How we both would have loved to have walked through the doors and marvelled at the 11,000 books that fill the shelves. To smell the musky accumulation of hundreds of years of dust, and be surrounded by the ghosts of those who were once close enough to pass their time in the company of such a great man. 

The library let down was short-lived in duration though.  The sun was out, reflecting golden tones on the sandstone by the Seine where the water is lapping at the feet of curious onlookers.  With barely a chill in the air it only seemed fitting to finish the afternoon with additional poesie, chocolate ice-cream with crème Chantilly at Berthillon. Poetry indeed.

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