Near the Opera, towards the Pont Royale, there's a nice little green by the Seine. It's called Jardin des Tuileries. Young people go there for a run, old people play boules. Sumin and I went there to shake off the craziness we encountered at Colette, where I found two issues of Monster Children (yay), and some other shops that were heavily overrun.
On our way we grabbed a bite to go and brought it to the metal chairs that are scattered all over the park. We collected two seats with armrests and leaned back in the afternoon sun. Birds were swimming in the pond, people were chatting and laughing, clouds were quietly hovering high above us. For a little while it felt like a vacation again.
The metro took us to Iéna and we walked the few meters to the Palais de Tokyo. They had a promising exhibition called Nouvelles Vagues. 53 expositions all over Paris, and a great number of works at the Palais. So we went, paid the entrance fee and were disappointed on all levels. Maybe we're not artsy enough, but what we saw made no sense at all.
Back on ground level we let out a deep sigh that translated into something like: Oh well, that was our last evening in Paris. Fortunately, the book store was still open, which made up for much of our trouble. Their selection of print media is extra large. We left exhausted. It was dark and the only light we saw was the Eiffel tower in the distance. Paris, man.