The trip

 

The flight to Paris from Newark went as planned without me having a medical emergency. I didn’t expect to have one. We flew business with all the comfort associated, ample room, seat reclining into a decent sleep position, clear large monitor screen and superb audio for entertainment, extra attention from the stewards and food of the best quality, champagne and wash cloth. The whole plane only offered business class and the flight was relaxing instead of tiring. I was able to sleep part way or use the available wifi to keep entertained. What a depart from the way we usually flied, in cramped seat, very limited service and just eatable food. We were bumped to business some years back, the plane was half empty and we were offered reduced business seats at the gate. We paid a bit extra of course, the offer was not free, and we took it. It was the best experience flying I had ever had.
For this trip to France my spouse had purchased the tickets as a birthday present for me, and for herself as well as she had decided not to fly normal class. Much too tiring a trip for her age, in a cramped seat for nine hours. The ticket afforded us the use of the private lounge with all the perks in it. Arrived in Paris and after staying or take a train or rent wheels, we opted for self transportation. I secured a car, a comfortable one and of we went to Nice. I think it took us eight hours, sharing the driving. I was glad to arrive in Nice, early morning, get in the apartment and garage the car nearby.  We slept well. The next day I returned the leased car as we do not keep a car in Nice.
Besides having little choice but sticking with the plans we made before I knew I’ll be operated on, the time in Nice now had an added purpose. I had to rest and be ready for the operation, both physically and mentally. Mentally was not a problem. I did not experience fear or apprehension, I was not worry about the procedure and trusted the surgeon attached to my case, he who would perform the necessary steps. My physical condition was fine as well, perhaps a bit fatigued otherwise as normal for me. But the daily exercise of walking, sometimes two or three miles, seldom using the tram or bus, was going to be beneficial.
we went on our daily Nice routine, breakfast, then to market on Monday, Court Saleya, or Saturday to the booksellers market, then we would meet for lunch and choose a restaurant who offered the plat du jour that appealed best to us, they were several to choose from, all five to fifteen minutes walking distance and we had lunch. I went for fish most times, being by the sea and never had regrets. We would navigate the same restaurants sometimes visiting consecutive days, seldom we strayed. Except once or twice, depending what part of the town we were at lunch time. Once we deliberately went to an Egyptian couscous specialist, a small unassuming place that make their own couscous and used market fresh vegetables. I choose the couscous with chicken , lamb and merguez, my favorite spicy sausage. The whole was served with plenty of broth and harissa. When the plates arrived it became evident that we would not polish our plates. There was enough to satiate us sitting at the restaurant and the rest neatly tucked in containers, enough to feed us another two nightly meals. Actually, after the copious lunches we had , our evening meals were small, some cheese and crackers , cold cuts and pates, olives, a bit of wine, something light to prepare us for a good night sleep. And we slept well, probably on account of the walking we did daily.
The days without market I would visit the bookshops. Most I had known the owners from my previous visits to the city and we always had good vibes seeing each other again, we chew the fat, I informed them of my new adventure and sometimes bought a few books. Like in the USA, I was assured that all will be fine and that it’s now routine, that the best place around for the procedure is Monaco, the French social security paying for it. I other words, I got the same reaction as the one here in the US.

So I went on with my book buying, a hunt for pearls that I should bring back to the US and sale them for more than I paid for. A modest goal so to speak. I was searching and finding anything related to women for a Valentine auction I was planning. I cleaned the shelves of the titles mentioning women and found several books which turned out to be quite rare and valuable. A book by a Madame De Graffigny, Lettres d’une Peruvienne, printed in the eighteenth century that turned out to be a rare work on early feminism decrying the plight of women at that époque.  My cost was minimal, a few euros and it was well receive at auction with several bidders fighting for it. I also scoured the stores shelves on any less expensive erotica, lots of feminine sadomasochism, with illustrations, most done in the nineteen seventies, each no more than fifteen to twenty five euros. In the same vein I looked and purchased classic works on loving, like works by Pierre Louÿs and other semi erotic writers, I found older books on women hygiene focused on sexual activity and work on feminine beauty. Anything with the word Love in the title was fair game and added to the pile. It was fun and helped me spend full time doing what I enjoy doing, hunt for the rarest of the rarest. That I found asking my dealer friends at the market and in the shops I frequented. The most important by far was a 1584 account book for the Comte de Sault and his spouse after his death at battle, Madame la Comtesse de Sault, an imposant figure both physically and intellectually, who rallied both the Duc de Savoie and the King of Spain to her cause during the French religious wars in Provence where the Comte family holding were. At the time of the purchase, I had no idea what it was all about, only deciphering a word here and there in the hand writing but I paid my dealer friends without bargaining. I had made several purchases from him before and I’m sure it accounted for the price he demanded. I bought some finely bound works and some more recent manuscripts from him, without bargaining too hard. Booksellers appreciate that and sometimes reward you with fine items. I had a quirk of not pushing too much on the price with booksellers I liked and respected and bargaining hard with those I did not care for much.
When time to pack our bags for the return to the USA, I had a couple of suitcases and a backpack filled with mostly books and some items of clothing.

To return to Paris we took the TGV, the quickest and most comfortable to travel by land. The trip took about five hours, with a food bar and ample room to move around. From gare de Lyon where we arrived to the hotel we booked was a short ten minutes walk. We went on staying in Paris a couple of days, visited the newly restored Notre Dame and the musée Cluny nearby with its exhibit of the famous Dame a la Licorne tapestry, five huge tapestries hanging from the high ceiling. We liked it and I was mesmerized by its size and beauty, truly something everyone deserves to see in person instead of glancing at it in some art book. Of course, I had time to visit a few book shops and took advantage of it. I found quite a few nearby and a few books worth bringing back to the USA, all the while thinking about the very little room left in our luggage to fit anything in. I did not buy the forty thousand euros book of hours offered by a bookseller.