Sunday rhythms

I loved Ann Mah’s recount of her Sunday last week. It reminded me how some Sundays in the city are action-packed adventures without your even intending them to be. Her day was my ideal: busy and inspiring, filled with magical little moments, but without meaning to. It had the leisurely pace of a Sunday rather than the run-around-everywhere feel of a Saturday despite seeing and doing so much. (You know what I mean??)

My Sunday wasn’t so bad either. It was brilliantly sunny but super frigid. After class with the yoga nazi, I met Jo for brunch at Super Nature, where we had what would have been a super healthy meal if the amount of food hadn’t been super crazy, enabling me to display my not-so-super powers of saying “non” to food that’s in front of me. Still, it was delicious and I would do (and eat) it all again.

Then we hopped on Velibs, and zipped along the most beautiful path in Paris: past the Tuileries, through Place de la Concorde, past Le Grand Palais and Le Petit Palais, over le Pont Alexandre III and through les champs d’Invalides. It really is ridiculous how beautiful this city is.


The destination was La Pagode, where we’d both been wanting to go.

It’s a beautiful little spot, tucked away in the seventh arrondisement. Apparently, in the late 19th Century, the owner of Le Bon Marché purchased this pagoda in Japan and had it shipped to Paris as a wedding gift to his wife. When the marriage later ended, he had the pagoda and its gardens transformed into a movie theater.



A Single Man was playing in the smaller theater, not the grand Salle Japonaise, which is the real treat. But we still got to check out the gardens and indulge in our Sunday afternoon movie.