A poignant return trip to beloved Paris
Five days after Islamic State terrorists stunned Paris by killing 130 people in seven locations, my husband and I landed before dawn in the City of Light.
At Hotel Mansart near Place Vendome, Patricia Miotello, the 60ish reception manager, welcomed us effusively.
“Thank you for coming,” she kept saying, telling us that 170 room nights had been canceled so far for November.
Terrorists were killed by police and troops in St. Denis.
At Brasserie Royal Vendome, where we went twice for the reasonable grilled salmon and warm apple tart, the waitress said only 22 of 44 people who booked showed up Monday after the Friday, Nov. 13, attack.
The otherwise effusive maitre d’ at Le Procope, a popular Left Bank restaurant, looked frustrated when he said banquet reservations had been canceled for 500 people.
After the attacks, friends at home had asked, “Are you still going?” Keith and I both said, “Of course.”
Paris was bleak and cold during our visit, and police cars and troops with guns were visible on the streets, in the Metro and train stations.
Another afternoon, we waited only 10 minutes to go into the newly renovated Rodin Museum, his onetime home, seeing famous sculptures such as “The Kiss.”
There were more than 25 white tents protecting international TV crews and cameras from the rain.
Some mourners stood, just staring at the masses of flowers, votive candles, stuffed animals and signs, one proclaiming “Your wars, our deaths.”