Into the Woods

Perhaps the state of the Porte Dauphine metro station should have given us a sense of trepidation. Carefully minding the step as we left the train at the terminus of line two, we did notice a very strong smell of damp, and climbing up to street level through the almost deserted station we could see that the steps were very wet. Not caring to take too much notice, however, we negotiated the maze of roads and traffic headed for the notorious Boulevard Periphique and made our way into the Bois de Boulogne for the first time.

Truly we could not see the wood for the trees. The Bois is vast and even with good signage, maps and an iPhone we had no real plan of attack, and thus fell to wandering aimlessly along the paths for a while. A group of mature Frenchmen playing petanque provoked a quickening of our pace. We had encountered such types before on a trip to the South. Foolishly sitting down to watch them, we saw their game gradually creep round by miniscule degrees until we could not help but think they were pitching their boules deliberately at us, Anglo-French relations dissolving in a rather genteel cannonball barrage, so we moved on.

As we strayed deeper into the trees the paths became more picturesque, with gentle bridged streams and nuthatches flitting between branches overhead. Relishing a tranquil escape from raucous city being we strolled arm-in-arm towards a distant lake. We must have looked the picture of idealistic contentment in the broken sunshine, admiring the last fading blooms of the summer roses in the beds and sitting on a bench to glance at our map, while high above us the sky was darkening. Should we hire a bike perhaps, or enjoy an ice-cream? The decisions that you ponder slowly are there to be savoured. You take delight in the well-oiled machinery of your thought processes. Then the drops of rain start to fall and the brain's decision hatch snaps shut with jolting rapidity. All at once having a clear view of the impending downpour, we ran for cover.

Standing under a group of firs for a long time we watched the sparse human population of the wood deal with the heavy rain. A young boy felt the irresistible urge to venture out into the torrent, clearly weighing up in his mind the cautionary words of his mother with his desire to know what it felt like to be underneath that amount of precipitation. He dashed out from the trees only to dash quickly back in again with a sob and a grimace. On the lakeside path an elderly lady and her young helper simply continued walking, not altering their pace at all. Presumably she could not go any faster and did not want to stop, so in her sodden raincoat and hat she just kept on going, dignified and unflinching while the rest of us cowered.

For a long while each time the shower seemed to be abating it then decided to come back stronger, so we watched the skies for what seemed like an eternity, looking for brightness instead of black. When finally there was warm sun again we combed shed bits of tree from our hair and began to pick our way back to the station through the puddles and the mud. Meandering became once again quite pleasant. We saw young children being led along on placid hired horses through idyllic forest clearings, as well as boats to be rented on a clear, still stretch of water. Far in the distance the Eiffel Tower peeped out from behind the trees. But as we reached the margins of the forest the clouds gathered once more and despite our best efforts we did not make it to the covered metro porch before the deluge found us. The road rapidly turned into a river but still a valiant street cleaner kept on sweeping through the flood as we, by now quite soaked, made our way down to the platform and the waiting train. I swear no one else seemed to have got caught in the shower. We were the only ones who sat quietly dripping on our way back into the city centre.

The sun was out again to dry us on our walk back to our apartment, but this time we didn't dawdle. However scenic the streets of Paris might be, we are slowly learning that her heavens cannot completely be trusted.