Hippocampus!

So, bright and early Saturday we got up and climbed to the roof for breakfast, after which we

finished packing and visited a bit with the hostess before Abderrahim arrived to drive us to the airport.

After checking in, we found postcards and other necessities (?!) at the airport. We didn't need to exchange our dirham, however, as we ended up spending most of our remaining cash on a couple of sandwiches. We're not sure, but we think we spent 24 euro for sandwiches, 2 Oranginas and a package of Prince cookies. Let's hope not.

Our flight was uneventful -- with the exception that flying Royal Air Maroc was pretty exciting in and of itself -- and soon we landed at Orly. I prefer(ed) Orly to DeGaulle (based on my overnight visit there when first arriving in Europe), but Sam disagrees. She claims CDG is a clean, modern, efficient airport. Hmmm.

We took the Orlybus to metro to our hotel, Hotel Central Saint Germaine, located between the Sorbonne and the Latin Quarter. I always thought the Latin Quarter was an area with lots of dance clubs, but apparently it was so named because of all the students (who study Latin) who hang out there. A perfect location and a lovely hotel.

We walked into the hotel to find David sitting in the lobby! Yeah!! It was great to see him. There had been confusion regarding our reservations, so poor David sat there (on comfy couches at least) for a few hours awaiting our arrival. We figured out the room confusion (by "we" I mean "Sam" and her fabulous, fluent French) and headed upstairs to clean up and change to go out. By now it was pretty late for me, but there's a price to be paid when hanging with a younger crowd.

After freshening up, we walked into the heart of the Latin Quarter, which was bustling even at 10 p.m., and found a small bistro to have supper. We then walked past the French Senate building to the sixth arrondissment to enjoy jazz at HIPPOCAMPUS!!!, the jazz club Sam and her friends frequented when they were living in Paris! After hearing so much about it, I was afraid it wouldn't live up to my expectations, but I was happily mistaken; it was wonderful!

Samantha was a bit concerned that the staff might not remember her, but she, too, was mistaken as the maitre d' greeted her at the door and gave her (and me and Dave) a big welcome! The club had a new owner, Pascal, to whom we were introduced before settling in at a cozy table and ordering margharitas (no longer on the menu, but graciously provided in honor of Sam's return!)

As it was quite late, the crown was small -- perhaps only ten or 15 patrons -- and we only caught the last set, but it was great. Maxim (Saury, I learned later) played clarinet with Jean-Pierre (?) on piano. Between the last set and closing time, Maxim joined us at our table and we talked. He was as interested in our lives as we were in his! His father was the bandleader at the Casino de Paris in New Orleans, so he grew up surrounded by musicians. He sat on the laps of Maurice Chevalier and Josephine Baker as a child! One of his daughters is a musician in Paris; another is in Germany. His granddaughter speaks English, French, German and another language (I forget which), and Maxim talked with us about why so many French speak English. He said after World War II when he was in school and being presented with languages to learn, the choices were German, Italian and English. In the aftermath of the war, English was the most palatable!

As we prepared to leave, Sam, Pascal, and the maitre d' chatted. It turned out that the Pascal was friends with the owner of a club Sam knew in Caen. Pascal made Sam a "coupon" for a free drink at the Caen club if she ever got back there.

At 2 a.m., David and I walked home past the Senate on quiet Paris streets, but Sami was walking on air!