Well, I couldn't get the last slideshow to work, so if Krysta can fix it for me, check back later. I'll see if I can get my little video posted. I took this as I was passing through "my" park on the way to La Grande Epicerie to shop for my dinner. I'll also post a picture of my dinner, if I can.
Dinner: pommes Dauphinois, haricots verts, lapin (not-so-agile) and moka-cafe
Well, only in baseball would .50 be acceptable. Check back later, please.
I decided to walk to one of the few large Parisian parks that I hadn't seen before, Parc Montsouris, which means Mouse Mountain. It's called that, I've read, because it had been a quarry that was rebuilt into a park with manmade hills, gullies, ponds and streams. Apparently, before it was recreated into a park, it looked like giant mice had been eating the landscape. On my way there, which took a long time, not only because it was a long way to walk, but because I always get distracted and go off course when I see something interesting, I met a man walking down this allee with two whippets.
I stopped him to ask him about his dogs (out of my comfort zone, Krysta!) and to tell him that I had a greyhound. He was delightful - we chatted for some time; he was very patient, not in a hurry (he said the outer arrondissements move a little more slowly), and as we talked my French became more fluent. Sometimes he waited while I had to think of a word or a construction, sometimes he would help me. We talked about dogs, about how everyone closer to the inner city speaks English (very annoying), he asked me about where I lived and wanted to know if it was near Boston. He told me about some American friends he had at one time, and that he found English too hard to pronounce. I asked him if my accent was hard to understand, and he said he could understand me very well, but my French lacked "la musique." French is a very musical language, and I've noticed that even Americans whose French is much better than mine lack the intonation and cadence of the French - the music. Anyway, it was a very special moment for me - he'll never know how pathetically grateful I was for his generosity.
I finally made it to the park, a great place for kids with play areas and a puppet theater.
Well. This day rates, hands-down, the highest on the satisfaction scale. I had a very full day and nearly all of it was successful; the low point was probably the $38.00 lunch at the Louvre restaurant. The best part of that was the cover of the menu. The waiter was one of those who started to speak English as soon as he heard my accent. I had ordered a glass of wine on the menu, but he said, "We dun hov zees one. We hov zees one... zees one... or zees one." I took ze chippest one. I also ordered the chippest lunch, which was penne pasta in a tomato/basil sauce. How can you go wrong with that, but the sauce was watery and flavorless. The only other thing I liked, besides the menu, was the salt and pepper dishes: one salt, one pepper and one mixed, with a little spoon for sprinkling it on your food. Unfortunately, it didn't improve my pasta, just made it salty. Anyway, I digress. The rest of the day made up for the lunch, and at least the lunch gave me time to rest.
I started out this morning by taking the RER to the Paris Nord train station to buy my ticket to Brugge and back to the CDG airport. It was another one of those "Me Tarzan, you Jane" moments, but the girl was very nice, very helpful with advice and suggestions, and didn't start to speak English. So - that went well. I'm all set to leave for Belgium on Sept. 30.
Then I went to the Decorative Arts wing of the Louvre, which has been remodeled and reopened just recently. That I enjoyed very much! It included exhibits of commercial posters and t.v. commercials from different eras and different countries; furniture throughout periods from medieval to today; clothing styles and accessories, and toys and games. Everything was fascinating, and I was surprised to find myself most interested in furniture styles from the 30's, 40's and 50's. I've always loved Art Nouveau and Art Deco, but these were decades I didn't know very much about. It was interesting to see the progression from intricately hand-carved wood pieces of the Middle Ages through the furniture of the 17th and 18th centuries that were so richly ornamented and made of materials like marble, highly lacquered inlaid wood, and gilded bronze; even the Art Nouveau furniture was intricate and sinuous in its own way. But then came Art Deco, and after that, form and design became more and more simplified to the point of being austere (not to mention uncomfortable-looking!) Form seemed to overcome function to the point of almost being sculpture. It makes me wonder what caused this inexorable movement toward simplicity. Did the industrial revolution have something to do with it? And if so, what? Was design inspired by the industrial revolution as art was, or did mass production make hand-made pieces too expensive to own?
In one area you could actually sit in one of a variety of chairs of different styles and watch movie clips from previous decades in which this furniture was used in the set decoration. Great fun!
The toy exhibit was fascinating - one display held tin and plush-covered wind-up toys from I'm not sure when - even before my time! A video showed the toys in action after they were wound up - it was very cleverly done.
Just one more word on the Decorative Arts exhibit: there were two familiar personalities represented - Dale Chihuly and Barbie. :)
In the evening I went to a piano concert in the oldest church in Paris, Saint-Julien-le-Pauvre; the smallest, too, I think. The pianist's name was Nicolas Boyer, and he played a Chopin recital. I had the third best seat in the house :), where I could see his right hand and the reflection in the piano of both hands. He was superb! Music is truly a gift from God, and it sounds most heavenly when it's played in a cathedral. It was so beautiful at times it nearly brought tears to my eyes, other times I felt like melting in my seat, and occasionally I just felt so filled to capacity that I would burst - one of Julie's soaring moments that just raises you right up out of your seat!
Someday (before I leave here, I hope): I'm going to find that mouthwatering French food I'm always raving about!
Heritage Day:
Today was the first of the heritage days of Paris, and I was a little intimidated by the prediction of great crowds and waiting in long lines, so I wasn't sure I even wanted to leave the apartment. However, after struggling with my slideshow for a couple of hours, I decided to brave it and at least go to the Palais du Luxembourg which is up the block and across the street. It's where the French Senate is located and is usually closed to the public, as I found out the first time I was here and tried to go in. There was no line to get in and the crowd inside was very light, so I'm glad I didn't miss it. It was at one time the queen's palace (Marie de Medici) and still looks very much the part. Every square inch is sculpted, carved, gilded, or painted and the rooms are sumptuous and luxurious. The library, which looks out over the park, is quite magnificent, with sliding staircases and balconies to reach the books near the ceiling. The ceiling itself is ornamented with paintings whose creators you'd recognize. The main staircase is grand and wide, covered with plush carpet and guarded by sculptures of lions. Gobelin tapestries line the walls. I only took one picture, because photographs never do these rooms justice, especially when you don't have perfect lighting.
Afterward I went through the park greenhouses which are also usually closed to the public. Very beautiful, but nothing was unfamiliar, except the bean plant.
Needing a rest, I stopped for a bite at the little park cafe and listened to the band playing show tunes from Hello, Dolly. All you hear in Paris is American music.
Language:
Yesterday I took the Metro to Place d'Aligre, an outdoor market I'd been wanting to go to for years, but always missed it. There is a vast difference between knowing a language and using a language. At the market I saw some fruit I didn’t recognize. What I wanted to say (and could say, given some time to work it out) was, “What unusual fruit; I’m fascinated by the way the small, individual nodules hang from one long stem, something like a bunch of bananas. What’s it called? Dates, you say? They’re so smooth and golden; they appear to be in different stages of ripeness. Which ones are ready to eat?”
What I did say was, “What’s that? Same as those (pointing to the familiar- looking dates)? How eat?”
Language is so humbling.
Transportation:
It’s getting smaller and smaller. Remember, Connie, when we were amazed at the Smart cars, which looked like the front half of a tennis shoe? Now there are a couple of new modes of transportation, even more individual, and definitely less polluting, which is the whole idea in this city of three million cars. (T.V. commercials are showing animals coughing to try to appeal to the conscience of car owners.) One innovation is government-owned bikes which are lined up in bike stations, each locked into a meter-like device into which you insert a credit card. The lock then releases and you can use the bike as long as you want, returning it there or at another station, and your card is charged for the amount of time you used it. They’re quite popular - I’ve seen people, including women wearing skirts and heels, riding them all over the city (they’re a lot more courageous, or foolhardy, than I’d be in this suicidal traffic!) The other new mode of transportation is the Segway. Remember those? They really never got off the ground at home (pun intended), did they? Here, there are different groups of entrepreneurs renting them out on the streets. I haven’t actually seen anyone riding one yet. I wonder what will be used to move people the next time I come?
Food:
On the whole I've been a little let down by the food, at least in the cafes. The best meal I've had yet was one that I shopped for myself at La Grande Epicerie, the "grocery store" that's connected with Le Bon Marche (not your mother's Bon Marche). Le Grande Epicerie greets you with the selection of pastries that look like works of art; in fact, they look too good to eat, but if you passed them up for that reason you'd miss the lightest, tastiest, creamiest pastry you'd ever had. So light it almost seems to float up off the plate and into your mouth. If you can get past the pastries, you come to the breads in every shape, size and flavor. Then come the meats, a different department for each kind, and the prepared foods, which, of course, is where I was headed. I chose lemon chicken, herbed carrots, and a mushroom medley. Oh, and also two pastries (I didn't get by them), one was a strawberry tart and one a fraisier, which is layers of cake and cream studded with fresh strawberries. (I thought it was important to get my fruit.)
For those of you who haven't been to Paris, I created a little slide show of random pictures. For those of you who have been here, a little trip down memory lane.
(Actually, I'm having a little trouble with that slideshow, like everything else with this computer, so I'm waiting for some help from Krysta.)
I just received a lovely comment AND email from Susi Stephenson, so I know my email is working. However, it's been a long dry spell since I received anything from the rest of you. :( As much as I love Paris, it's missing one thing and that's YOU. I do look forward to your emails. No more blog or pictures till I hear from you!
Thank you, Susi! I love YOU!!!
I'm staying behind these doors this morning to do some laundry. Remember, Connie, how long it takes to wash a load of clothes? I may be finished by dinner time.
My private tour guide was a no-show yesterday. I gave up after waiting 30 minutes and explored the Marais on my own. I happened upon the wholesale district - stores full of different styles of one item (purses, jewelry, shoes, etc.)on display and the floor of the store littered with boxes containing these items by the gross, I suppose. I was amused by the signs on the doors, one in French and one in English; the one in English said: Wholesale only, no detail.
I promised Cindy Z. I'd tell her all about Paris fashion, that being a special interest of hers. So, here goes:
Everything you ever knew or read about Paris fashion on the street is now wrong.
Old Rule: Don't take your jeans to Paris; no one there wears jeans. Wrong. EVERYONE under the age of 30 wears nothing but jeans; not so much with women d'un certaine age, but I've seen enough of my age group wearing them that I don't feel conspicuous in mine. I've seen every possible style ever invented - skinny leg, flared leg, high waist, low waist, obscenely low waist...
Old Rule: Parisians wear high-heeled pumps, never comfortable shoes, let alone tennis shoes. Wrong. EVERYONE is wearing tennis shoes in every imaginable style. If you've noticed the variety of tennis shoes at Macy's, multiply that exponentially and you'll be close to the number of different looks here. I was especially intrigued by some bronze hightops; they looked a lot like my baby shoes Mom had bronzed, only on steroids.
Old Rule: Everyone here wears scarves. Actually, that one hasn't changed. They still do, and I've discovered there is a practical reason for it. Having gone out a couple of times without a jacket and realizing, too late, that it was cooler than I thought, I stopped at a souvenir shop that sells cheap scarves and bought one for 5 euros. Wrapping that thing around your neck a couple of times makes a jacket unnecessary, and you can unwind it as the weather warms up.
Old Rule: Parisiens are fashionistas. Wrong. Maybe it's the quartier I'm staying in, but I have done a lot of walking around other areas, and it's my impression that they're dressing down. Except for a couple of exceptions in the St. Germain area, most people are dressed quite casually; they really don't look any different than people do back home, except there aren't as many fat people. Which brings me to my last observation for today:
Old Rule: French people are all skinny. Wrong again! They're puttin' on the pounds just like the rest of us. Mon Dieu! What's 'appening to ze French? They're becoming us!
SOMEDAY: My door will look like this:
