Went to walk walk around St Paul and Montmartre with Mom after lunch. Montmartre is actually one of my favourite place in Paris because it is really beautiful, but I am quite reluctant to go because this area is one of the most dangerous areas i.e. pickpockets and gypsies are everywhere.
I suppose we must have looked really local, cos for once no one approached us to buy stuff. We sat on the slope, comme les francais, and enjoyed the afternoon sun for a while before heading back to the hotel to wash up.
Had dinner at Leon de Bruxelles (La Republique) with Mom's former colleague from HK. Expected a boring evening with the two "adults" talking, but Helen is surprisingly very engaging and full of funny stories of how she adapted (and is still adapting) to the French way of life i.e. the slow way of handling things, endless paperwork, wrong food order etc. And the thing that I didn't expect her to do is to create an understanding within me on why Mom sometimes does some things (she was sharing her own experience on how frustrating she could be when her mother calls her and ask how she is, what she is doing etc. Little did she know that this phone call thing is a neverending argument between me and Mom. And yes, btw, I think I almost quarrelled with Mom about this over dinner at Toulouse). She said, "I need to give my mother a chance to know me." I suppose, yes, I need to give Mom a chance to understand me as well, so I should stop sounding so irritated every time she calls. :p
I had wanted to say this towards the end of the trip, but I guess I can say it now. I started out on this trip wanting to find something. Throughout the trip I had doubts on whether I had taken the right path, of resigning, of deciding to go back, of wanting to take a break. I still do not know if I had found the thing I was looking for, but I think I had gained a lot a lot from this trip. A sort of enlightenment on many things. And I think yes, I will go back a better person.
Chaque instant de ma vie, et chaque endroit ou je suis, Seigneur conduit mes pas.
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