Boulevard Haussmann, in Paris’ 9th district, is one of my favourite areas in the city. Lining the boulevard are the grands magasins, the large department stores: Printemps, Galeries Lafayette, H&M. Also in this district is the Opéra, head offices of several major banks, and of course the stereotypical Parisian apartments. It is bustling, crowded, and difficult to navigate on foot at all hours of the day and night. Business people rushing to and from sidewalk cafés during lunch hour (which lasts for at least 2 hours, of course); tourists stopping to photograph the elaborate department store window displays, which chang with the seasons and are always designed and executed by world-class artists; sidewalk vendors hawking a wide variety of goods; restaurant delivery drivers speeding by on their scooters (on the sidewalk, of course). Hang on to your purse and walk quickly, lest you be knocked down in the mad rush. Parisians are always rushing everywhere; I sometimes wonder if even they know why they’re in such a hurry.
I forgot to tuck my camera in my purse before leaving, so I have no photos of my own to share. It was a beautiful sunny day. The large trees lining both sides of the boulevard were overflowing with bright green leaves, the sky was blue, and even the locals seemed to be in a good mood. Or maybe that’s just because it’s Thursday, and many people seem to take Friday off. (And when they do that, they often also take Thursday afternoon off. Don’t ask me how they get away with it, but it’s apparently a very common practice here.) So who knows? Maybe these happy Parisians weren’t on their lunch breaks after all – maybe they were smiling because their work week was already finished.
I went in the grands magasins, tried on fabulously stylish clothes I can’t afford, and perused the fabulously overpriced accessories that I likely wouldn’t buy even if I could afford to do so (250€ for a thin spring scarf? I think not. And don’t even get me started on the shoes, the cheapest pair of which was 300€…) Basically, I played dress-up, and that was fine with me. I did get one summer shirt dress that was within my budget, then made my way back to the station because my feet were too sore to continue walking.
I arrived back at the school in Sceaux just as the afternoon recess break was beginning. Several English teachers were waiting for me in the staff room, to say goodbye. They gave me a card, and 2 gifts – a photography book of Paris, and a bottle of perfume! I received several requests to keep in touch, and a number of offers of letters of reference or recommendation, should I require them. As the impromptu “party” broke up as the bell rang, the teachers went back to their classes, saying they only hope that next year’s assistant will be as pleasant to work with and as good with their students as I was. See, that’s the kind of thing that makes me regret having to leave… OK, it’s not the only thing, but it does count! 
Photo: savills.fr
