Friday was Clemens' last night in Paris, so Dave and I met him in the city for dinner, along with his sisters. His three sisters had come to visit for the week and help him move home. After a week of bad Paris weather and living together in Guillaume's tiny apartment, the four of them were irritable and ready to go home.
I had never met a woman who doesn't like Paris, so I was suprised to hear Clemens' sisters say that they really didn't enjoy their stay. "You actually like it here?" the oldest asked me, wrinkling her nose. "It's so dirty."
I looked out at the street next to the terrace where we were sitting and spotted a lone metro ticket lying on the ground. Dirty? These German girls had better keep away from Detroit.
We had dinner along the Saint Martin canal in a little place called L'Atmosphere. Clemens sat in the middle, translating the menu for everyone and accidentally speaking to the waitress in English. We were all in fits of laughter, making Clemens speak in three languages at once.
So it was a nice last evening with Clemens, even if his sisters were grumpy Paris-haters. We have plans to visit his family farm in Germany before the end of the year, and he might end up taking a job in France, so hopefully it won't be long before we rendezvous again.
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