This Tuesday evening is one of those evenings where, once we get out of our respective jobs, we find ourselves back at the apartment, both of us completely washed out by the amount of human distress we have had to face. We would then work together to find out what could take the pressure off or turn the energy back on. Searching through words, passions, gestures what will recharge us and, as if by magic, recharge our discharged batteries. On those evenings, we keep a few little secrets in a magic box. It’s a box that re-enchants the world and works as quickly as a balm on a wound, and thus overcomes the worst worries of the day.
Listening to the daily miseries, injustices, misunderstandings, deploying all our empathy to get out of the doldrums those who don’t know who to hold on to, knowing how beautiful life is and how worthwhile it is to live it with all the delicacy it requires, loving people and this world despite its darkness and its turpitudes, there’s nothing to say, it consumes a rather colossal amount of energy and it happens that at the end of the day, we feel completely emptied. Add to this, an often revolting or even disgusting current events, at the beginning of the 21st century, and you are emptied of all sap. So, on those evenings, we use our magic suggestion box, the one that reboosts us, that fills our imaginations with unique sensations, that makes us feel a deep sense of well-being. One of our favourite secrets is to sail around Paris in search of beautiful colours, old stones and charming little corners. Walking, walking again to discover fountains, forgotten gardens, and a « je ne sais quoi » that brings us back to the present moment.
That evening, at the end of a very exhausting day, we had a very invigorating project in mind. A project that had been delayed throughout the containment and for a few more weeks. But since Sunday, we knew that Aymeric Assié, the owner of the Certa, had decided to reopen his restaurant and that the reopening would take place this Tuesday evening.
Whatever happens during the day, the Certa is a resource you can count on. The welcome is so warm, that in a few minutes you are immersed in another universe and leave all your worries on the doorstep. Here, there is no doubt about the existence of human kindness, it sweats everywhere. Even in the middle of a gunshot, Aymeric knows how to pay attention to you, how to find the little word that goes well and that re-enchants the world. His Barry White voice, his Aveyron or Drôme accent, I don’t really know anymore, probably had something to do with it. Still, the atmosphere here is great, even on rainy days, and it feels great.
Jean-Yves held out: no restaurant until the Certa reopens! We had so often landed there, after difficult days or to make our big decisions, to make plans on the comet, that our first post-confinement restaurant could only take place on the terrace of the Certa. It’s 6 p.m. and we’re both back at the apartment, a little bloodied but well motivated. We opt for a passage through the Royal Palace and the Jardin des Tuileries. It’s time to leave for the Certa in the early evening. We go down the Boulevard Raspail, then take the Rue du Bac to reach the quays of the Seine.
The weather is pleasant and Montmartre stands out in the distance over the rooftops of the Rue de Rivoli. Passers-by stop on the platform to admire the view.
We cross the Tuileries garden, admire the statues that seem to be taking a lawn bath.
A vase, proudly erected in the middle of the garden, has defied the high facades of the surrounding streets for centuries.
The view, from one arch to the other, is unobstructed and you can feel that Parisians are happy to savour again those little moments so exquisite at the edge of the fountains. Once again, we are delighted, crossing the Rue de Rivoli, to see that it is now closed to cars and reserved for pedestrians and bicycles. From the square in front of the Palais Royal to the Opéra Garnier, we are on automatic pilot. The desire to find the Certa again makes us itchy and guides our steps.
When we arrive, we are greeted by a large waiter, all dressed in black, including his mask, who twirls from one table to another, his tray in his hand. He is all focused on his service, attentive to everything and everyone so that everyone has a good time here. Loyal to the post, Aymeric stands behind his bar. The reunion is nice and heartwarming after those long months of confinement. In two minutes, he sets us up on the terrace and the magic happens. A Schweppes and a tomato juice, a bird taking flight from my glass, it is all these little attentions that reveal all the flavour of these shared moments of everyday life.
Aymeric already knows what we are going to have: « the famous Fish and Chips », served with a salad and a tartar sauce « à tomber ». The fish fillets are set up in a small paper cone reminiscent of the English newspapers in which they were once served. The chips stand upright in their small basket ready to dip in the tartar sauce. A delight, both for the view and for our taste buds sharpened by the wait and a real treat for our stomachs hollowed out by the Parisian hike. A meal at the Certa, it’s worth it!
Behind his mask, Aymeric has kept his eternal smile, his good mood overflows and is visible at eye level. He takes the time to carve out a little bib: sharing on the mood of the world, telling each other about our confinements, exchanging on the next world, on the questions that animate us… The street is calm, we forget everything, discussions are going well and the customers are happy.
Before reaching our XIVth century heights, we share a lost brioche with a scoop of salted butterscotch caramel ice cream. It is served on a slate and our cutlery is ready to go to the assault of this lovingly prepared dish. It’s a real joy!
Decidedly, this evening is really successful. On the way back, on the way back, we enjoy the colours of the blazing sun. He comes to lick the facades of the Quai Voltaire and plays through the water jets of the Tuileries garden.
Pigeons stray near the hives and Jean-Yves plays hide-and-seek. On the Pont Royal, we take the time to dream over the Seine. Paris burns with a thousand colours and reveals itself in all its splendour, once again we fall under the spell.
The sun’s rays are having fun on the signs, intended for river navigation, hung on the Musical Ride deck. They simultaneously illuminate the dome of the Institut de France. In the distance, a huge crane dominates the towers of Notre-Dame and overlooks Île de la Cité. Here we are ready to fall into the arms of Morpheus, our emotional batteries are recharged to face the daily ills of our patients and agents in difficulty.
Par Nathalie
Translated with http://www.DeepL.com/Translator (free version)
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