14: Moving On

One leaves Notre Dame with mixed feelings of awe, reverence, the ability of man to offer up a lasting monument to his faith, and most significantly, a real craving for ice cream. Luckily for me, there happens to be a world-famous ice cream shop within walking distance. It’s called Berthillon and, according to my wife, it is the best in the entire world. Well, excuse me, but I will be the judge of that.
But first, a quick stop before I traverse over the Seine and into the Left Bank. I need to stop by Shakespeare and Company and see if they have either of my books. Spoiler alert: They do not. But, for a writer at least, no trip to Paris would be complete without at least paying homage.

Shakespeare and Company, the famous English-language bookstore in Paris, is located on the Left Bank across from Notre Dame and has been open since 1951. However, it's important to differentiate this from the original Shakespeare and Company, founded by Sylvia Beach, which closed in 1941 during the German occupation of Paris.

The internet wrote that last part as I am extremely busy thinking about ice cream. When I arrived, the store had just opened and there was a line just to walk through. Ice cream would have to wait a little longer.
Once inside, I was treated to shelves and shelves of books in a relatively small space. The shelves serve as stanchions, the public weaving around slowly until they reach the cash register where hopefully they have an armful of either French or English books. In my case, I had neither, deciding to break off from the masses to climb the stairs into a life-sized replica of the loft where Ernest Hemingway, that’s right, Big Poppa, slept when he had nowhere else to stay. Small window, simple cot, wooden table and chair, several empty bottles. Ah, reminds me of my college days.
And I’m ready for some ice cream.

Leaving the bookstore, I headed for the bridge across the Seine. To my surprise, I found literally thousands of locks attached to the metal railings of the bridge. It turns out, each of these locks signifies a relationship and a love locked for eternity. There happen to be so many locks that the city was forced to remove them before the structure of the bridge was compromised and crumbled into the river. Ah, isn’t it just like love to accomplish what the Nazis couldn’t?
Now I’m really ready for some ice cream.

Berthillon is only several blocks away. My short journey toward diabetes was interrupted by the many stands of used books and art along the river. Here you can have your picture drawn or stop at one of the used book stands and see if you can find one of my novels there. Spoiler alert: You can’t.
Dejected in a way that only an unsuccessful author can be, I hurry on to drown my feelings in cold, creamy goodness. There is a lot of hype regarding this place and, you know what, everyone, including my wife, is right. This stuff is phenomenal. It is way beyond the ice cream of 31 flavors. This is ambrosia fit for the gods. I got a one-scoop cone of salted caramel, 300 Euros (actually only 4 to 7 depending on flavor), and darted off back toward the river to enjoy the sun, before continuing my first day in Paris.