A Visitor

I had been eagerly anticipating Nazanin's visit since she contacted me a few weeks ago, almost like I would look forward with giddy anticipation to a sleepover when I was a kid.  (The comparison might be especially apt given how small our apartment is--having anyone stay feels a bit like a sleepover.)  I was so looking forward to catching up, hearing about her latest exploits, her children, her husband, her two(!) careers, and I was also just looking forward to having some relaxed time together, sharing a bottle of wine, going on an adventure, walking the streets of Paris.

We first met Nazanin six years ago when we were in Paris on our previous sabbatical.  She and her family were spending a year here, as well, and their children were at Ecole Jeanine Manuel, Kate's school.  Her oldest daughter became fast friends with Kate almost immediately (and they still are).  Nazanin's husband, Peter, was on sabbatical, and Nazanin decided to take the opportunity that being away from Philadelphia for a year afforded her:  she would step back from her cardiology practice for a year and lean into her artwork.  (She had formal training as an artist and had somehow managed to balance family, cardiology, and her career as an artist for years, but Paris would give her the opportunity to really focus on her art.)  

We had had many lovely lunches, dinners, and outings together six years ago.  Although we had kept in contact and seen her, Peter, and the kids a few times back in the US, I was excited to reconnect with her back in Paris, our common turf.

She arrived from Lyon around 10pm on Thursday night, and we had some snacks waiting.  Glenn, Nazanin, and I polished off a bottle of wine catching up, trading stories, hearing about the workshop she gave on synergies between art and medical practice to a group of medical and dental students in Lyon.  

The next morning, we fell into a less-is-more mindset, happy to not plan any ambitious outings but rather wander aimlessly around the 5th and 6th arrondissments for a couple of hours.  We passed Notre Dame to see how renovations were progressing.  

There were a lot of cranes and scaffolding.  We stopped into various shops and did a lot of window-shopping from the sidewalk as well.  

Here were some prints hanging in a store window that caught our eye.  We grabbed lunch at La Parisienne, a bakery that I like quite bit.  She had an appointment and I had some work to do, so we headed back to the apartment.  The weather was not ideal for her visit--a lot of gray skies and a bit of rain--but I suppose it must have reminded her of Paris in the winter.  

We capped off her visit by trying a new restaurant in the 13th, Simone, Le Resto.  It was a 20-minute walk from the apartment, and we met Glenn there.  We ordered a bottle of Haute-Cotes de Beaune to share, which reminded Glenn and me of our trip to France very early in our relationship when we bicycled through the vineyards around Beaune.  I thought the dishes I had were outstanding, a poached egg in parmesan foam, a roasted daikon radish and mushroom main dish, and some Comte served with a fortified wine afterwards.  Everyone thought the food was good, and the service and ambiance were on-point, too.  

Nazanin left to fly back to the US the next morning.  When I went into the guest room to strip the bed later that day, I noticed something propped up against the computer monitor.  It looked like one of Nazanin's ink and pencil drawings inspired by Iranian calligraphy.  She had left us a piece of her art as a thank-you gift!  (It is, of course, the photo at the top of this post.)  I went out that afternoon and found a frame that suits it perfectly.  It's now proudly displayed in our apartment, a beautiful reminder of a warm and happy two days.