Christmas Day in Paris (Part 2): More Ice and A Walk in the Marais

Okay, so after watching sledders, I moved on to the skaters, also in front of the Hotel de Ville! I nearly joined them, as they brought back fond memories of skating on the ice in my neighbors' backyard as a little girl. Instead, I photographed them and moved along:









Next to the skaters was a beautiful carousel, lit up by the sun peeping out over the roof of the Hotel de Ville:





I strolled toward the Marais, a primarily Jewish neighborhood, thinking that perhaps more shops would be open there on Christmas than elsewhere in the city.

This shop window caught my eye:



As did this unexpected Christmas tree in the heart of the Jewish area:



I made a mental note to return to this cafe, with its brightly colored tables:



And noticed the strange juxtaposition of the churchgoers and the homeless that this photo portrays:




The Place des Vosges was next on my list . . . it is a large community park, surrounded by imposing but beautiful buildings and filled with trees and sandy walking paths. I focused on the people today, which included this band of singers:



and these brothers who kindly posed for me (I like to call the one on the left "Luc Skywalquer"):



and this boy being fascinated by sculpture:



The Marais neighborhood continued to beguile me with its charming cafes, interesting facades and inviting courtyards:







I tried to figure out why this dog would proclaim his sexual status:



And did a double-take when I glimpsed this "man" in a tree:



Feeling a bit hungry, I was tempted by this shop, where ice cream is formed into the shape of flower petals atop a tasty cone:



Thinking that a glass of wine would be just the thing to follow my Christmas ice cream cone, I returned to l'Etincelle, the cafe I passed earlier that is on Rue de Rivoli near the Hotel de Ville. The glass of Bordeaux I enjoyed there warmed me after my chilly walk.



The people-watching was just as fabulous as the wine. A man at the next table who bears a faint resemblance to John Lennon fondly strokes the face of his companion, a woman with hair dyed dark red. A little girl with a large blow-up pink elephant sits a few tables away. Two dogs lie at their owner's feet, looking hopeful that some crumbs will fall their way. After devouring another few chapters of "Bird by Bird," the Anne LaMott book I'm reading, I enjoyed a short walk through the Parisian twilight before catching a cab back to my hotel to rest and freshen up for dinner: