Bonjour!
When we got up today, we went over to LaFavorite (which really has become our favorite breakfast place since we've been here in the Marais area of Paris. We especially enjoyed it today, knowing it would be our last breakfast there, since we would be getting up early tomorrow to start our journey back home. We decided while we were there, that we wouldn't talk about our last day in Paris, but would still enjoy ourselves and take in whatever sights we could today.
After breakfast, on our way to Marche Aux Fleurs, we saw a nun on a scooter, the non-motorized type. It was classic - she wore a pale blue habit and a white head veil, which flapped in the wind as she scootered on by. It's the kind of thing you might see on a Hallmark card or something.
We passed by a small grocery store called "Izrael Produits Exotiques" which advertised "Espices, Olives and Vins", and went in. It was such an interesting store filled with spices, sauces, olives, beans, herbs, huge varieties of dried fruit, and more. Although it was small, every inch of space was utilized, and I could have spent a morning in there looking at all the products!
After walking through the Marche Aux Fleurs once again and purchasing a few things, we left to continue looking at the sights and take pictures. Then we left the area around Notre Dame Cathedral and went back to a beautiful little cafe in the Marais area called 'Du TresOr' for a Salade Parisienne and an Salade Oceane. There were lush green trees right outside the cafe, and the temperature was perfect.
While seated, we noticed three people making their way to the cafe. Two of them were very elderly (one was in the 90 year old range), and a lady who was presumably his wife assisting him to inch his walker up the two steps into the cafe. They were the only ones seated inside. Finally they reached the table. They sat, and within a few minutes must have thought they had already waited too long for service, because the old guy in the group suddenly yelled out, "Helllllooooooo!" Of course, this behavior is guaranteed to be ignored by the French. Soon, and visibly agitated, this trio got up and slowly maneuvered their way through the cafe, back down the steps with walker in hand, and out onto the street. Not one person said anything to them as they left.
When we left, we walked by another cafe down the street called' Philisophe' and could see the same little trio now seated in the middle of the cafe, along with the university crowd. Hopefully this time, they would have service within their designated time frame!
On our way down Rue Des Rosiers we paid attention to the most fabulous Jewish shops and bakeries. We bought one piece of luscious cheesecake and one piece of poppy seed square at a Boulangerie-Patisserie called Murciano-Benguigui. We took everything back to the apartment, and it was already after 2:00 pm.
After a brief packing and organizing episode, we went out again - this time to another old and famous Parisienne institution called Berthillon Glacier at 29,31 Rue Saint-Louis en I'Ie, for a scoop of famous luxury ice cream. The store has been in operation since 1928. Just around the corner, a man stood playing the violin.
We kept walking and found a cafe called "l'Ombre De Notre-Dame" on 20, Rue Du Cloitre Notre Dame. We sat with our cafe au lait watching a line-up of at least 200 people wait to climb to the top to the bell tower. There was an organ grinder (no monkey, though) playing music and singing to the people in the line-up.
We left and stopped at yet another very old Parisienne institution called "The Bouquinistes of Paris". They are booksellers of used and antiquarian books who ply their trade along large sections of the banks of the Seine: on the right bank from the Pont Marie to the Quai du Louvre, and on the left bank from the Quai de la Tournelle to Quai Voltaire. Because of this, the Seine is thus described as 'the only river in the world that runs between 2 bookshelves.
The tradition of the second-hand booksellers began around the 16th century with little market peddlers. Under pressure from booksellers, a settlement of 1649 prohibited stalls and the display of books on the Pont Neuf, so they moved to the sides of the Seine.
Apparently, there are around 240 bouquinistes who make use of 900 “green boxes” to house old books, journals, pictures, posters, stamps and trading cards. As we walked along these green boxes, we saw that many of them were closed and locked up, so it looks like maybe this very old tradition could be changing.
In the evening, we decided we didn't want to miss the Musee d'Orsay on 5 Quai Anatole. We knew the museum was open until 9:45 pm on Thursday evenings, so we took the train over. We had a nice walk through the Tuileries. Even though we arrived at the museum at around 7:30pm, there were still quite a few people taking advantage of the evening hours.
Of all the galleries, that I have been fortunate enough to visit, the Musee d'Orsay is still my favorite, and I never get tired of looking at "Starry Night", by Vincent VanGogh, "Bal Du Moulin De la Galette", by Auguste Renoir, the beautiful works by Claude Monet, Degas, Manet, Lautrec and others.
When 9:30 pm rolled around, everyone was ushered out of the Museum. We walked back to the train through the Tuileries. We turned to look over our shoulder frequently, just to take everything in once more!
We arrived back at the Marais area and stopped at LaFavorite which was buzzing with activity. We found a little table under a heat lamp, ordered our beautiful rosé wine, and talked about how wonderful our holiday has been and how thankful we are, and how we are looking forward to seeing our family and friends!
Thank you to everyone who has shared in our holiday by following this blog. I hope it has given you ideas about how to follow your dreams and passion when you travel.
Merci de votre visite et a bientot...
Thursday 27 June 2013
The Marmottan Museum, Champs Élysées, Eiffel Tower
Bonjour! (Wednesday)
This morning, after our breakfast, we decided we would like to see some paintings by Claude Monet at a museum that we had not been to before. The Musée Marmottan was located on 2 Rue Louis Boilly in the 16 Arrondissement, and would take 2 trains to get there.
While walking through the tunnels towards the train, we passed someone sitting on a chair playing an accordion and commented on how often we have heard talented musicians who have set themselves up here and there in the tunnels to play their instruments, and hopefully make some money doing so. Also it's amazing to see how many musicians hop on the trains and take out a clarinet, accordian, saxophone or guitar to play some lovely music. When the song is over, they quickly move all over trying to collect money. Mostly they target the tourists.
When we got off the train, and came up the stairs of the tunnel, we emerged into another beautiful area, and commented on the fact that each area we come to is just so amazing and unique. Today, the sun was shining brilliantly. We walked through a large, beautiful green park called Jardin Du Ranelagh towards the museum.
The Musée Marmottan was once a lodge where a person named Paul Marmottan lived and whom worked on expanding his father's collection of paintings, furniture and bronzes. Marmottan bequeathed his home and collection to the Académie des Beaux-Arts, and the collection became the Museum Marmottan in 1934.
It features a collection of over three hundred Impressionist and Post-Impressionist works by Claude Monet (with the largest collection of his works in the world), Berthe Morisot, (who was incredibly talented, but because she was a female, had to work twice as hard as everybody else), Edgar Degas, Édouard Manet, Alfred Sisley, Camille Pissarro, Paul Gauguin, Paul Signac and Pierre-Auguste Renoir. We rented the audio guide and spent two hours looking at this most amazing collection.
As well, the Marmottan had a temporary collection of paintings by Marie Laurencin. Talk about stunning art. We were amazed by the beauty of this collection, and neither one of us had ever heard her. She is another person with a fascinating life story.
We were really glad we took the time to come to this museum. It is so incredible to know that the majority of these great artists, knew each other, and even collected each others works.
Another beautiful thing about Paris? Everyone once in awhile - you'll be walking along and there will be a an upright piano sitting in a park, or in a square, or in a shopping area. Members of the public are invited to sit down and play a tune. On the piano are the words "Play Me". Today, when we were on our way to catch the train back to the Marais, we passed by such a piano, where a girl sat playing and singing. Only in Paris.
We decided it was time to stop at a cafe for some lunch, so today we chose Le Sevigne on Rue Payenne. The waitress was pleasant, and we ordered Croque Monsieur sandwiches (which I will definitely practice at home). There was a side salad, and all was delicious.
A word about the Croque-Monsieur. The name is based on the verb croquer ("to crunch") and the word monsieur ("mister"). The sandwiches' first recorded appearance on a Parisian café menu was in 1910.
After a break at our apartment, we went out and walked over Pont Louis Philippe on our way to meet some friends from home in front of the Notre Dame Cathedral. A jazz band was set up and playing just on the other side of the bridge on Quai De Bourbon in the 4th Arrondissement. We paused for a few moments to watch and get a few pictures.
When we arrived at the Notre Dame, there were hundreds of people milling around. There was an enormous line up to just to get into the cathedral and have a look. There was also an extensive lineup around the side, where people waited patiently to climb over 700 steps to the top for a look at the beautiful gargoyles close up, and a wonderful view of the city.
We found our friends and walked over to the March Deux Fleurs, the ancient flower market in Paris, not far from the Notre Dame. All the shops were open, so we looked around at lots of interesting things. The flower display, especially the enormous, colorful, hydrangeas, were breathtaking.
We walked over to catch the train to the Trocadero, where we could have a great view of the Eiffel Tower. There were lots of people milling around the square. There was a band playing guitar and pan flutes. It reminded me of music I used to hear at the Farmers Market at home once in awhile. The band was excellent and the music lively. After this, we found a little cafe to sit at, and enjoy some rose wine. It's not often you are fortunate enough to be in Paris, let alone have your paths cross with your good friends from home!
We left the cafe and walked to the Arch De Triumph, where the traffic was roaring around in a willy-nilly fashion and then on to the Champs Élysées, which always feels like a giant outdoor shopping mall.
Then we walked by Fouquet's which is a famous restaurant along the Champs Élysées. I knew this cafe had some history, and everyone was willing to stop by and have a look. When we went to the entrance you could see plaques on the ground of many of the famous people who had been there, (Juliette Binoche, Kirk Douglas, Coco Chanel) to name only a few. We stood looking at the menu which was posted at the entrance, and decided we didn't really want to pay those prices for dinner. Also, you would probably like to dress up to come here.
Fouquet's is a restaurant that has been linked to high society in Paris since 1899. It has also been a popular meeting place for people from cinema, arts, and culture, especially in the 1930's.
After walking around, first ending up at a pizza place, then leaving - we were all getting hungry, so we stopped at a place called 'Hippopotamus' just off of the Champs Élysées (which is terribly sad when you think about it). It had a big, shiny menu and reminded me of a Boston Pizza menu back home. We tried the New Orleans chicken, and I asked the waitress what spices were in the chicken, but she just said, "just spicey!"
After this, it was close to 11:00 pm, and we walked to the Eiffel Tower so we could be sure to see the twinkling lights at 11:00 pm. We watched the beautiful light display, and then decided we'd catch a cab back to our respective places, because we were quite tired, and some of us could barely walk. We couldn't get a cab, so we all limped over to the train. One person in the group was especially uncomfortable in his new shoes, and said he would be giving his shoes away to Value Village as soon as he got home.
So, we waved good bye to our friends at the metro, and then we started our 3 train journey back to our apartment. I could barely make it up the 4 flights of stairs to our room. Finally we fell into bed at 12:30 am, after another wonderful evening...
This morning, after our breakfast, we decided we would like to see some paintings by Claude Monet at a museum that we had not been to before. The Musée Marmottan was located on 2 Rue Louis Boilly in the 16 Arrondissement, and would take 2 trains to get there.
While walking through the tunnels towards the train, we passed someone sitting on a chair playing an accordion and commented on how often we have heard talented musicians who have set themselves up here and there in the tunnels to play their instruments, and hopefully make some money doing so. Also it's amazing to see how many musicians hop on the trains and take out a clarinet, accordian, saxophone or guitar to play some lovely music. When the song is over, they quickly move all over trying to collect money. Mostly they target the tourists.
When we got off the train, and came up the stairs of the tunnel, we emerged into another beautiful area, and commented on the fact that each area we come to is just so amazing and unique. Today, the sun was shining brilliantly. We walked through a large, beautiful green park called Jardin Du Ranelagh towards the museum.
The Musée Marmottan was once a lodge where a person named Paul Marmottan lived and whom worked on expanding his father's collection of paintings, furniture and bronzes. Marmottan bequeathed his home and collection to the Académie des Beaux-Arts, and the collection became the Museum Marmottan in 1934.
It features a collection of over three hundred Impressionist and Post-Impressionist works by Claude Monet (with the largest collection of his works in the world), Berthe Morisot, (who was incredibly talented, but because she was a female, had to work twice as hard as everybody else), Edgar Degas, Édouard Manet, Alfred Sisley, Camille Pissarro, Paul Gauguin, Paul Signac and Pierre-Auguste Renoir. We rented the audio guide and spent two hours looking at this most amazing collection.
As well, the Marmottan had a temporary collection of paintings by Marie Laurencin. Talk about stunning art. We were amazed by the beauty of this collection, and neither one of us had ever heard her. She is another person with a fascinating life story.
We were really glad we took the time to come to this museum. It is so incredible to know that the majority of these great artists, knew each other, and even collected each others works.
Another beautiful thing about Paris? Everyone once in awhile - you'll be walking along and there will be a an upright piano sitting in a park, or in a square, or in a shopping area. Members of the public are invited to sit down and play a tune. On the piano are the words "Play Me". Today, when we were on our way to catch the train back to the Marais, we passed by such a piano, where a girl sat playing and singing. Only in Paris.
We decided it was time to stop at a cafe for some lunch, so today we chose Le Sevigne on Rue Payenne. The waitress was pleasant, and we ordered Croque Monsieur sandwiches (which I will definitely practice at home). There was a side salad, and all was delicious.
A word about the Croque-Monsieur. The name is based on the verb croquer ("to crunch") and the word monsieur ("mister"). The sandwiches' first recorded appearance on a Parisian café menu was in 1910.
After a break at our apartment, we went out and walked over Pont Louis Philippe on our way to meet some friends from home in front of the Notre Dame Cathedral. A jazz band was set up and playing just on the other side of the bridge on Quai De Bourbon in the 4th Arrondissement. We paused for a few moments to watch and get a few pictures.
When we arrived at the Notre Dame, there were hundreds of people milling around. There was an enormous line up to just to get into the cathedral and have a look. There was also an extensive lineup around the side, where people waited patiently to climb over 700 steps to the top for a look at the beautiful gargoyles close up, and a wonderful view of the city.
We found our friends and walked over to the March Deux Fleurs, the ancient flower market in Paris, not far from the Notre Dame. All the shops were open, so we looked around at lots of interesting things. The flower display, especially the enormous, colorful, hydrangeas, were breathtaking.
We walked over to catch the train to the Trocadero, where we could have a great view of the Eiffel Tower. There were lots of people milling around the square. There was a band playing guitar and pan flutes. It reminded me of music I used to hear at the Farmers Market at home once in awhile. The band was excellent and the music lively. After this, we found a little cafe to sit at, and enjoy some rose wine. It's not often you are fortunate enough to be in Paris, let alone have your paths cross with your good friends from home!
We left the cafe and walked to the Arch De Triumph, where the traffic was roaring around in a willy-nilly fashion and then on to the Champs Élysées, which always feels like a giant outdoor shopping mall.
Then we walked by Fouquet's which is a famous restaurant along the Champs Élysées. I knew this cafe had some history, and everyone was willing to stop by and have a look. When we went to the entrance you could see plaques on the ground of many of the famous people who had been there, (Juliette Binoche, Kirk Douglas, Coco Chanel) to name only a few. We stood looking at the menu which was posted at the entrance, and decided we didn't really want to pay those prices for dinner. Also, you would probably like to dress up to come here.
Fouquet's is a restaurant that has been linked to high society in Paris since 1899. It has also been a popular meeting place for people from cinema, arts, and culture, especially in the 1930's.
After walking around, first ending up at a pizza place, then leaving - we were all getting hungry, so we stopped at a place called 'Hippopotamus' just off of the Champs Élysées (which is terribly sad when you think about it). It had a big, shiny menu and reminded me of a Boston Pizza menu back home. We tried the New Orleans chicken, and I asked the waitress what spices were in the chicken, but she just said, "just spicey!"
After this, it was close to 11:00 pm, and we walked to the Eiffel Tower so we could be sure to see the twinkling lights at 11:00 pm. We watched the beautiful light display, and then decided we'd catch a cab back to our respective places, because we were quite tired, and some of us could barely walk. We couldn't get a cab, so we all limped over to the train. One person in the group was especially uncomfortable in his new shoes, and said he would be giving his shoes away to Value Village as soon as he got home.
So, we waved good bye to our friends at the metro, and then we started our 3 train journey back to our apartment. I could barely make it up the 4 flights of stairs to our room. Finally we fell into bed at 12:30 am, after another wonderful evening...
Tuesday 25 June 2013
The Baguette Class, The Carnavalat Museum, Friends From Home
Bonjour Everyone!
We started our day at LaFavorite, and ordered the Petit De Jeuner. We found if you ordered a croissant and coffee this way, you would also receive a glass of the most delicious, freshly squeezed orange juice. Ron told the waiter, "the coffee is SO good here!" The waiter replied, "The coffee is good because it eeez French." At LaFavorite, the waiters wear black pants, white shirts with black suspenders, and white aprons. No haphazard looks allowed.
When we left LaFavorite, we walked towards LaCuisine, where I would be taking my baguette and bread making lesson, which was scheduled for 10:00 am. On the way, we saw an open door to Cathedral, so we stopped in at L'eglise Saint-Gervais in the Quartier Historique Du Marais.
We discovered this cathedral was the very first parish built in Paris on the right bank of the river Seine in the 6th century. It was built on a bit of a hill to to escape river flooding. During the French Revolution, it was heavily ransacked and closed for awhile. During the Second World War, the church was bombed and around 100 people were killed.
On that sad note, I arrived at La Cuisine on 80 Quai De l'hotel De Ville at 9:55 am for my class. There was one person ahead of me, a lady from Angola, Africa sitting at a table. Soon two people from New York came in the door, to be followed by four ladies from somewhere in Texas, who were together in Paris celebrating someone's retirement. One of the ladies called herself "Angelique", and told everyone that was the name she used while in Paris.
We gathered around a very large, marble counter with our instructor Justin from Texas, who positioned himself on the other side of the counter, so as to do the demonstrations. Justin told us a bit about himself before class started. He said he had met a French girl, moved to Paris, went to Culinary School here, was employed at different hotels in the city as a Patisserie cook - and then landed a job at L'Cuisine in Paris. As well he teaches voice and piano lessons on the side, became fluent in French - and just for interest sake, he spent four years in Romania, and speaks Romanian.
So we got down to business, and the first thing we did was to remove our jewellery. Next we washed our hands, rolled up our sleeves, and began our three hour class by mixing our flour, water, salt and yeast together, and then we started the hard work of kneading the dough. There were different levels of experience in the room. Some people had made lots of bread in their personal history, and some had never tried to make bread. I attempted to make baguettes twice before. The first time they turned out like tiny baseball bats, (of which I have pictures to prove), and the second time, I was quite happy with the results. I did learn a vital secret - it's important not to kill the yeast. I also learned that steam is an necessary part of baguette baking. While we mixed, kneaded, and waited for the bread to rise three times - Justin talked to us about bread in the French culture. There are actual laws governing the baking of bread in France. He said ,"if you don't follow the regulations here, the baguette police will come after you!" You must follow all the rules in France to call yourself a "Boulanger". All aspects of the bread baking, must be done on the premises of the Boulangerie. You must make the dough, and it must be baked on your premises. Baguette and bread making is serious business in France. If you are caught cheating (buying frozen dough from elsewhere, and baking it on your premises, the government will shut your business down). All baguettes must be certain dimensions - 65 cm long, 5-6 cm wide, 3-4 cm high and should weigh 250 grams. So, Justin did his best to teach us the art of baking baguettes. Fortunately he didn't put our baguettes through rigorous measuring, before the class ended. We had fun in the class, and I felt Justin did his best to teach us this art. I knew I needed to practice at home.
Ron was waiting for me, when the class was over. I said good bye to Justin and all the others, and left the class with my two baguettes, and Fougass (similar to focaccia in Italy). We stopped at a cafe called La Perla, my ate bread and had some rose wine, while I explained how things went at the class to Ron.
When we left the cafe, we stopped at the Le Vert d'Absinthe on 11 Rue Omesson to buy a fancy spoon for absinthe, which I knew a friend of mine would appreciate. After leaving the Absinthe shop, we went back to our apartment to drop a few things off, and freshen up for the evening.
We then went to Carnavalat Museum on 23 Rue De La Sevigne which is just across the street and a down a little ways down from our apartment. This museum specializes in French history, and includes a whole section on the French Revolution, which is really interesting, if you like learning about French history.
After touring the very extensive museum, we left and started walking in the direction of the Latin Quarter, where we planned to meet some friends from our home city for dinner. The walk from the Marais to Hotel St. Jacques in the Latin Quarter took about twenty five minutes.
When we arrived at Hotel St. Jacques, we were happy to see our friends. It's really great to see good friends in a completely different setting in a part of the world that is far from home. We all walked towards Rue Moufettard where we could have a good visit, while we enjoyed chicken curry.
Everyone was tired, after a long day, so we went our ways with plans to meet up tomorrow evening. Ron and I walked across the bridge over the beautiful, sparkling water at night. The Notre Dame was lit up, and a boat drifted quietly down the river Seine...
We started our day at LaFavorite, and ordered the Petit De Jeuner. We found if you ordered a croissant and coffee this way, you would also receive a glass of the most delicious, freshly squeezed orange juice. Ron told the waiter, "the coffee is SO good here!" The waiter replied, "The coffee is good because it eeez French." At LaFavorite, the waiters wear black pants, white shirts with black suspenders, and white aprons. No haphazard looks allowed.
When we left LaFavorite, we walked towards LaCuisine, where I would be taking my baguette and bread making lesson, which was scheduled for 10:00 am. On the way, we saw an open door to Cathedral, so we stopped in at L'eglise Saint-Gervais in the Quartier Historique Du Marais.
We discovered this cathedral was the very first parish built in Paris on the right bank of the river Seine in the 6th century. It was built on a bit of a hill to to escape river flooding. During the French Revolution, it was heavily ransacked and closed for awhile. During the Second World War, the church was bombed and around 100 people were killed.
On that sad note, I arrived at La Cuisine on 80 Quai De l'hotel De Ville at 9:55 am for my class. There was one person ahead of me, a lady from Angola, Africa sitting at a table. Soon two people from New York came in the door, to be followed by four ladies from somewhere in Texas, who were together in Paris celebrating someone's retirement. One of the ladies called herself "Angelique", and told everyone that was the name she used while in Paris.
We gathered around a very large, marble counter with our instructor Justin from Texas, who positioned himself on the other side of the counter, so as to do the demonstrations. Justin told us a bit about himself before class started. He said he had met a French girl, moved to Paris, went to Culinary School here, was employed at different hotels in the city as a Patisserie cook - and then landed a job at L'Cuisine in Paris. As well he teaches voice and piano lessons on the side, became fluent in French - and just for interest sake, he spent four years in Romania, and speaks Romanian.
So we got down to business, and the first thing we did was to remove our jewellery. Next we washed our hands, rolled up our sleeves, and began our three hour class by mixing our flour, water, salt and yeast together, and then we started the hard work of kneading the dough. There were different levels of experience in the room. Some people had made lots of bread in their personal history, and some had never tried to make bread. I attempted to make baguettes twice before. The first time they turned out like tiny baseball bats, (of which I have pictures to prove), and the second time, I was quite happy with the results. I did learn a vital secret - it's important not to kill the yeast. I also learned that steam is an necessary part of baguette baking. While we mixed, kneaded, and waited for the bread to rise three times - Justin talked to us about bread in the French culture. There are actual laws governing the baking of bread in France. He said ,"if you don't follow the regulations here, the baguette police will come after you!" You must follow all the rules in France to call yourself a "Boulanger". All aspects of the bread baking, must be done on the premises of the Boulangerie. You must make the dough, and it must be baked on your premises. Baguette and bread making is serious business in France. If you are caught cheating (buying frozen dough from elsewhere, and baking it on your premises, the government will shut your business down). All baguettes must be certain dimensions - 65 cm long, 5-6 cm wide, 3-4 cm high and should weigh 250 grams. So, Justin did his best to teach us the art of baking baguettes. Fortunately he didn't put our baguettes through rigorous measuring, before the class ended. We had fun in the class, and I felt Justin did his best to teach us this art. I knew I needed to practice at home.
Ron was waiting for me, when the class was over. I said good bye to Justin and all the others, and left the class with my two baguettes, and Fougass (similar to focaccia in Italy). We stopped at a cafe called La Perla, my ate bread and had some rose wine, while I explained how things went at the class to Ron.
When we left the cafe, we stopped at the Le Vert d'Absinthe on 11 Rue Omesson to buy a fancy spoon for absinthe, which I knew a friend of mine would appreciate. After leaving the Absinthe shop, we went back to our apartment to drop a few things off, and freshen up for the evening.
We then went to Carnavalat Museum on 23 Rue De La Sevigne which is just across the street and a down a little ways down from our apartment. This museum specializes in French history, and includes a whole section on the French Revolution, which is really interesting, if you like learning about French history.
After touring the very extensive museum, we left and started walking in the direction of the Latin Quarter, where we planned to meet some friends from our home city for dinner. The walk from the Marais to Hotel St. Jacques in the Latin Quarter took about twenty five minutes.
When we arrived at Hotel St. Jacques, we were happy to see our friends. It's really great to see good friends in a completely different setting in a part of the world that is far from home. We all walked towards Rue Moufettard where we could have a good visit, while we enjoyed chicken curry.
Everyone was tired, after a long day, so we went our ways with plans to meet up tomorrow evening. Ron and I walked across the bridge over the beautiful, sparkling water at night. The Notre Dame was lit up, and a boat drifted quietly down the river Seine...
Monday 24 June 2013
Canal St. Martin, the Folies Bergere, and Eugene Delacroix
Bonjour to my Family and Friends:
After our usual start at LaFavorite, we went to the Metro to catch a train which would take us to our first destination of the day in Arrondissement 10. We got off the train, and walked across the very large Place de la Republique where we saw the most breathtaking monument called Statue de la Republique. At the top of the monument is a dark bronze statue of Marianne, who is a national emblem of France. You actually see Marianne displayed in many places of France, and I did not know she was an actual emblem of the country, until today! No one seems to know exactly who "Marianne" was. She wears a cap which represents liberty, and holds an olive branch high in her right hand which symbolizes peace, a tablet in her left hand which represents Human Rights, and she carries a sword attached to her belt. She is a beautiful emblem.
After standing and admiring Marianne for awhile, we walked down Rue Du Faubourg Du Temple towards Canal Saint-Martin. Someone told about us about this area of Paris a few years ago and said that it was a popular destination for Parisians to go for walks. We thought it sounded like a nice idea, and usually where there is water, there is some tranquility. As well, there are little shops and cafes.
While we stood on a bridge over the canal, we saw a big tourist boat called Canauxrama approaching. We could hear old Parisian music playing in the background, and a loud squeaky voice explaining the wonders of the canal. We could see cranky looking tourists sitting in the chilly air, on the half empty boat with their arms crossed, waiting to go through the locks of the canal. I can't say I envied them, having paid 16 euros per person, and being trapped on the boat for 2.5 hours. I should say the canal had quite a musty odour from where I was standing up on the bridge.
Ron was busy talking about how great Canal Saint Richard was while he was videotaping. I reminded him the correct name was Canal Saint-Martin, (which you'd think he'd know, since he wanted to come here).
As we continued walking along the canal, we passed a school where we saw a delightful but very curious sight. At least sixty pairs of colourful running shoes dangled from the branches of the trees in front of the school. They looked like Christmas bulbs, except they were shoes!
We took some time to stop at a little cafe called Cafe La Chaland. There were no Chausson pommes pastries (apple) available, however if we wanted some, we were welcome to go down the street to the Boulanger to buy some and bring them back - which is exactly what Ron did. I waited for him at the little red table with the red and white checkered stools. While we sat there, we wondered if Paris had such things as gyms or health clubs. Ron noticed that you never see advertising for "gluten-free" anything. Another thing we wondered as we sat there eating our Chausson pommes, with flakes of pastry hanging off our chins, was "Do Parisians have anything like skim milk?" I made it my mission to find out tomorrow.
There is never a time you sit at a table at an outdoor cafe, that you don't see at least one unusual thing. Today, it was a lady who drove by with a bright orange pile-on stuck under her car. A guy on a motorbike passed her and pointed down at her car, as he drove by. She kept right on going.
After this incident, we left the cafe and we decided we'd had enough of Canal Saint-Martin (or Canal Saint Richard, if you are Ron) and we carried on to our next destination, which happened to be in Arrondissement 9.
I'm happy to report that I finally made it to Rue 32 Richer to see the famed Folies Bergere Cabaret Dance Hall which opened in 1869. Actually Josephine Baker performed here in her famed "banana skirt". The career of Maurice Chevalier was launched here also. The reason I wanted to see this Dance Hall was because this is where Eduard Manet painted "A Bar At The Folies-Bergere", which is one of my all time favourite pieces. Today, this painting hangs in the Courtauld Gallery in London, and a few years ago, we stood in the Courtauld Gallery gazing at this breathtaking masterpiece. I was able to step inside this dance hall for a few moments, and although I couldn't see the counter that Eduard Manet used in his painting, I was happy to at least have stepped inside the doors.
When we left the Folies-Bergere, we noticed there were numerous shops and restaurants with the Star of David on many windows, and we found out that there is a large Jewish community here. We saw a restaurant called Chez David on Rue De Montyon specializing in Middle eastern food. We decided it looked interesting and as "David" is the name of one of our sons, it made it all that much easier. The waiter helped us with the menu. First he brought the house "salad" to our table which consisted of several small dishes of olives, eggplant, tahini, harissa, tomatoes, radishes, cabbage salad, and bread. It was all amazing. While we were having lunch, we watched a guy go around to each table, asking if anyone wanted to buy something gray he had in a plastic bag in his hand. We said "No thanks". Then he approached the chef at the counter and tried to coax him but the chef shook his head and came out to set tables. Apparently the gray stuff was a type of fish, we found out later. This is an interesting thing in some areas of Paris, that an individual can just walk in off the streets, go around from table to table to try to sell something to the customers.
The whole time we were there, a Parisian soap opera played on the television in the room. I could tell it was a Soap, because there was a lady in a hospital gown in a bed with oxygen tubing in her nose. Another lady was crying, and a nurse fell down dead in her uniform. It all took place in the same room. It looked like the nurse had been shot. Soaps are the same everywhere.
We left Chez David, and Ron walked by a barber shop called Chez Alain Coiffeur. He decided he wanted to get his hair cut, so he asked the barber who spoke not a word of English, if he could get a hair cut. The barber motioned for Ron to sit down. He used only scissors. I was a bit concerned about how things might turn out, and warned Ron it could look like a Bar Mitzvah haircut, but he said he didn't mind, and went ahead with it anyway. Actually the barber gave quite a nice haircut for 10 euro.
So we left this area on the train, and stopped off at Musee Eugene Delacroix on Rue De Furstenberg in Arrondissement 6. Here we saw what was the working studio, garden and home of Eugene Delacroix, a French-Romantic artist, who had a profound effect on the French Impressionist painters, because he was more focused on colour and movement, rather than realism.
When we left the gallery, we got back on the train. As we were walking towards the apartment, we noticed the doors to the cathedral Eglise Saint Paul - Saint Louis on Rue Saint Antoine were open, and since we like to visit the local cathedrals everywhere we go, we went in to have a look.
Finally we made it back to our apartment for a break and as we sat resting our legs, we noticed the sun started shining brilliantly, so we went back out for a walk around the Marais area, which is so interesting with all the cafes and shops. There is a shop with perfume which is made here in the Marais. We went in and looked around, as I am a perfume lover. A large girl sat behind the counter texting away, and barely looked up when we came in. I was hoping to get some interesting facts about this perfume, but none were forthcoming. We left and went into another shop that I had seen before - one that displays unique, black jewellery. On closer examination of this jewellery, I saw that most of the black beads were tiny ugly faces on black skulls. I felt it would be great for someome who might be a magician. We left there and continued on and there were lots of people out tonight, walking or sitting in cafes, enjoying the sun.
We went past the La Cuisine on Quai De l'Hotel de Ville where tomorrow at 10:00 am,I will be taking a class to learn to make baguettes. In the email reminder that I received today, I was politely reminded "not to worry if you would like to arrive 5 minutes early..."
After our usual start at LaFavorite, we went to the Metro to catch a train which would take us to our first destination of the day in Arrondissement 10. We got off the train, and walked across the very large Place de la Republique where we saw the most breathtaking monument called Statue de la Republique. At the top of the monument is a dark bronze statue of Marianne, who is a national emblem of France. You actually see Marianne displayed in many places of France, and I did not know she was an actual emblem of the country, until today! No one seems to know exactly who "Marianne" was. She wears a cap which represents liberty, and holds an olive branch high in her right hand which symbolizes peace, a tablet in her left hand which represents Human Rights, and she carries a sword attached to her belt. She is a beautiful emblem.
After standing and admiring Marianne for awhile, we walked down Rue Du Faubourg Du Temple towards Canal Saint-Martin. Someone told about us about this area of Paris a few years ago and said that it was a popular destination for Parisians to go for walks. We thought it sounded like a nice idea, and usually where there is water, there is some tranquility. As well, there are little shops and cafes.
While we stood on a bridge over the canal, we saw a big tourist boat called Canauxrama approaching. We could hear old Parisian music playing in the background, and a loud squeaky voice explaining the wonders of the canal. We could see cranky looking tourists sitting in the chilly air, on the half empty boat with their arms crossed, waiting to go through the locks of the canal. I can't say I envied them, having paid 16 euros per person, and being trapped on the boat for 2.5 hours. I should say the canal had quite a musty odour from where I was standing up on the bridge.
Ron was busy talking about how great Canal Saint Richard was while he was videotaping. I reminded him the correct name was Canal Saint-Martin, (which you'd think he'd know, since he wanted to come here).
As we continued walking along the canal, we passed a school where we saw a delightful but very curious sight. At least sixty pairs of colourful running shoes dangled from the branches of the trees in front of the school. They looked like Christmas bulbs, except they were shoes!
We took some time to stop at a little cafe called Cafe La Chaland. There were no Chausson pommes pastries (apple) available, however if we wanted some, we were welcome to go down the street to the Boulanger to buy some and bring them back - which is exactly what Ron did. I waited for him at the little red table with the red and white checkered stools. While we sat there, we wondered if Paris had such things as gyms or health clubs. Ron noticed that you never see advertising for "gluten-free" anything. Another thing we wondered as we sat there eating our Chausson pommes, with flakes of pastry hanging off our chins, was "Do Parisians have anything like skim milk?" I made it my mission to find out tomorrow.
There is never a time you sit at a table at an outdoor cafe, that you don't see at least one unusual thing. Today, it was a lady who drove by with a bright orange pile-on stuck under her car. A guy on a motorbike passed her and pointed down at her car, as he drove by. She kept right on going.
After this incident, we left the cafe and we decided we'd had enough of Canal Saint-Martin (or Canal Saint Richard, if you are Ron) and we carried on to our next destination, which happened to be in Arrondissement 9.
I'm happy to report that I finally made it to Rue 32 Richer to see the famed Folies Bergere Cabaret Dance Hall which opened in 1869. Actually Josephine Baker performed here in her famed "banana skirt". The career of Maurice Chevalier was launched here also. The reason I wanted to see this Dance Hall was because this is where Eduard Manet painted "A Bar At The Folies-Bergere", which is one of my all time favourite pieces. Today, this painting hangs in the Courtauld Gallery in London, and a few years ago, we stood in the Courtauld Gallery gazing at this breathtaking masterpiece. I was able to step inside this dance hall for a few moments, and although I couldn't see the counter that Eduard Manet used in his painting, I was happy to at least have stepped inside the doors.
When we left the Folies-Bergere, we noticed there were numerous shops and restaurants with the Star of David on many windows, and we found out that there is a large Jewish community here. We saw a restaurant called Chez David on Rue De Montyon specializing in Middle eastern food. We decided it looked interesting and as "David" is the name of one of our sons, it made it all that much easier. The waiter helped us with the menu. First he brought the house "salad" to our table which consisted of several small dishes of olives, eggplant, tahini, harissa, tomatoes, radishes, cabbage salad, and bread. It was all amazing. While we were having lunch, we watched a guy go around to each table, asking if anyone wanted to buy something gray he had in a plastic bag in his hand. We said "No thanks". Then he approached the chef at the counter and tried to coax him but the chef shook his head and came out to set tables. Apparently the gray stuff was a type of fish, we found out later. This is an interesting thing in some areas of Paris, that an individual can just walk in off the streets, go around from table to table to try to sell something to the customers.
The whole time we were there, a Parisian soap opera played on the television in the room. I could tell it was a Soap, because there was a lady in a hospital gown in a bed with oxygen tubing in her nose. Another lady was crying, and a nurse fell down dead in her uniform. It all took place in the same room. It looked like the nurse had been shot. Soaps are the same everywhere.
We left Chez David, and Ron walked by a barber shop called Chez Alain Coiffeur. He decided he wanted to get his hair cut, so he asked the barber who spoke not a word of English, if he could get a hair cut. The barber motioned for Ron to sit down. He used only scissors. I was a bit concerned about how things might turn out, and warned Ron it could look like a Bar Mitzvah haircut, but he said he didn't mind, and went ahead with it anyway. Actually the barber gave quite a nice haircut for 10 euro.
So we left this area on the train, and stopped off at Musee Eugene Delacroix on Rue De Furstenberg in Arrondissement 6. Here we saw what was the working studio, garden and home of Eugene Delacroix, a French-Romantic artist, who had a profound effect on the French Impressionist painters, because he was more focused on colour and movement, rather than realism.
When we left the gallery, we got back on the train. As we were walking towards the apartment, we noticed the doors to the cathedral Eglise Saint Paul - Saint Louis on Rue Saint Antoine were open, and since we like to visit the local cathedrals everywhere we go, we went in to have a look.
Finally we made it back to our apartment for a break and as we sat resting our legs, we noticed the sun started shining brilliantly, so we went back out for a walk around the Marais area, which is so interesting with all the cafes and shops. There is a shop with perfume which is made here in the Marais. We went in and looked around, as I am a perfume lover. A large girl sat behind the counter texting away, and barely looked up when we came in. I was hoping to get some interesting facts about this perfume, but none were forthcoming. We left and went into another shop that I had seen before - one that displays unique, black jewellery. On closer examination of this jewellery, I saw that most of the black beads were tiny ugly faces on black skulls. I felt it would be great for someome who might be a magician. We left there and continued on and there were lots of people out tonight, walking or sitting in cafes, enjoying the sun.
We went past the La Cuisine on Quai De l'Hotel de Ville where tomorrow at 10:00 am,I will be taking a class to learn to make baguettes. In the email reminder that I received today, I was politely reminded "not to worry if you would like to arrive 5 minutes early..."
Sunday 23 June 2013
Paris Hillsong, The Montparnasse Tower, and Jazz in the Luxembourg Gardens
Bonsoir Family and Friends!
We started our day at La Favorite for our usual order in the morning. Despite the sad name for a cafe in Paris, it has a warm atmosphere, and it's nice to have that as well as the flakey croissants. When we finished our coffee, we walked towards the metro to start our journey to Montparnasse. Although Montparnasse isn't that far from the Marais, it's having to change trains 3 times that makes it feel like a bit of a journey.
We reached Montparnasse, which is in Arrondissement 14 and is on the left bank of the river Seine. We found the Theatre Bobino at 20 rue de la Gaite. The Bobino is a music hall theatre that's been around since 1800.
The reason we came to the Bobino Theatre was because it hosts the Paris Hillsongs Church for Sunday services. We had attended a Hillsong service in London in an old theatre called Dominion, a few years ago and enjoyed it. When we heard there was a Hillsongs church in Paris, we planned to go. We attended and enjoyed the service, in which the theme was, "Being Wide Awake In Life". The church was comprised primarily of young people, but we enjoyed ourselves anyway. We met a young girl, born and raised in Mexico city, who had recently moved to Paris to be with her new husband, who was born and raised in Paris. Strangely she met her husband in Mexico city when he was there on business. She said she loves Paris, and that the city feels "like a neighbourhood" in Mexico city which has a population of 22 million, and Paris has only 2.3 million people.
As I sat in the service, looking at the stage of the Bobino theatre, I must say I couldnt help but think of a few of the famous people who had performed on that very stage in the 1920's and 1930's - people like Edith Piaf, Juliette Greco, and Josephine Baker. In fact, Josephine Baker gave her last performance on that stage in 1968.
When the service was over, we walked over to the Montparnasse Tower, which opened in 1972. It is a tall, (210 meters) black, rather non-descript office tower and stands alone in Montparnasse. We took an elevator to the top and had an unobstructed, panoramic view of the city of Paris. It was very chilly and windy up there. We could see all the famous landmarks of Paris, which appeared very tiny. Of course there was a souvenir shop on the premises!
We left the tower, and walked across Place Josephine Baker. Josephine Baker was a black woman born in Missouri, U.S. in 1906. She has such an amazing life story, if anyone would like to know about her. When she came to Paris, she started performing with little clothing, in uninhibited ways, and of course was an immediate a sensation here. People referred to her as the "Black Venus".
We came onto Montparnasse Boulevard, and walked along looking at some of the old, Bohemian cafes of Paris. We came to one called Cafe De Le Rotonde. We stopped in and had a lovely time having lunch in this elegant, old cafe. It was warm and inviting with a red carpeted floor, red ceilings, red chairs with black, ornate backs on them, and orange lanterns hanging from the ceiling. We tried the French Onion soup, a nice vegetable salad with bread, and of course rose wine. As I sat in my chair, and looked around, I wondered where Modigliani had sat, when he introduced himself as "Modigliani, painter and Jew",to an American woman,(also a painter)in the cafe.
Cafe De Le Rotonde has amazing history. Along with Le Coupole, Le Dome, and Le Select, also on Montparnasse Boulevard, it was a meeting place for artists, sculptors, writers, and poets of Paris in the 1920s and 30s. These artists,(Picasso, Degas, Matisse, Chagall, Diego Riviera, Modigliani to name only some, were so poor they couldn't pay their food bill half the time. Because of this, they would leave a painting with the owner of the cafe, in good faith, that just as soon as they had some cash, they'd be back to pay their tab, and collect their art. Many times however, this never happened so the art was kept and eventually fell into the hands of private collectors. If you had walked into the Cafe Rotonde back in those years, you would have seen paintings tacked up here and there, some of which now hang in various galleries of the world, and are worth millions of euro.
When we left this glorious, old cafe, we walked to the nearby Luxembourg Gardens and saw that there was a stage set up for a one hour jazz concert which would feature the music of Chopin. So we grabbed a few chairs and waited a half hour in the chilly wind and intermittent sprinkles for the concert to begin. We sat through the concert in the wind, huddled together with our umbrella popped open over our heads, and lots of other people did the same thing. It was fun, and when you look around and remember that you are in the Luxembourg Gardens, you savour the moment, because after all, you are in Paris. I think back to the words I heard in the church service today,"Je Vis," which means,"I Live!"
On the way back to the apartment, we stopped to purchase a baguette, some fruit, and a slice of flan which looked yellowish and creamy for our supper. We ate our small dinner, and then went back out for an evening stroll.
We were talking about the Paris and its history and found it amusing that it is called the City of Lights, not only because of the beautiful lights at night on the bridges, the streets, the Eiffel Tower, and the Champs Élysées - but also because the word "Lights" refers to the writers, artists, and academics that have always been drawn to the City...
We started our day at La Favorite for our usual order in the morning. Despite the sad name for a cafe in Paris, it has a warm atmosphere, and it's nice to have that as well as the flakey croissants. When we finished our coffee, we walked towards the metro to start our journey to Montparnasse. Although Montparnasse isn't that far from the Marais, it's having to change trains 3 times that makes it feel like a bit of a journey.
We reached Montparnasse, which is in Arrondissement 14 and is on the left bank of the river Seine. We found the Theatre Bobino at 20 rue de la Gaite. The Bobino is a music hall theatre that's been around since 1800.
The reason we came to the Bobino Theatre was because it hosts the Paris Hillsongs Church for Sunday services. We had attended a Hillsong service in London in an old theatre called Dominion, a few years ago and enjoyed it. When we heard there was a Hillsongs church in Paris, we planned to go. We attended and enjoyed the service, in which the theme was, "Being Wide Awake In Life". The church was comprised primarily of young people, but we enjoyed ourselves anyway. We met a young girl, born and raised in Mexico city, who had recently moved to Paris to be with her new husband, who was born and raised in Paris. Strangely she met her husband in Mexico city when he was there on business. She said she loves Paris, and that the city feels "like a neighbourhood" in Mexico city which has a population of 22 million, and Paris has only 2.3 million people.
As I sat in the service, looking at the stage of the Bobino theatre, I must say I couldnt help but think of a few of the famous people who had performed on that very stage in the 1920's and 1930's - people like Edith Piaf, Juliette Greco, and Josephine Baker. In fact, Josephine Baker gave her last performance on that stage in 1968.
When the service was over, we walked over to the Montparnasse Tower, which opened in 1972. It is a tall, (210 meters) black, rather non-descript office tower and stands alone in Montparnasse. We took an elevator to the top and had an unobstructed, panoramic view of the city of Paris. It was very chilly and windy up there. We could see all the famous landmarks of Paris, which appeared very tiny. Of course there was a souvenir shop on the premises!
We left the tower, and walked across Place Josephine Baker. Josephine Baker was a black woman born in Missouri, U.S. in 1906. She has such an amazing life story, if anyone would like to know about her. When she came to Paris, she started performing with little clothing, in uninhibited ways, and of course was an immediate a sensation here. People referred to her as the "Black Venus".
We came onto Montparnasse Boulevard, and walked along looking at some of the old, Bohemian cafes of Paris. We came to one called Cafe De Le Rotonde. We stopped in and had a lovely time having lunch in this elegant, old cafe. It was warm and inviting with a red carpeted floor, red ceilings, red chairs with black, ornate backs on them, and orange lanterns hanging from the ceiling. We tried the French Onion soup, a nice vegetable salad with bread, and of course rose wine. As I sat in my chair, and looked around, I wondered where Modigliani had sat, when he introduced himself as "Modigliani, painter and Jew",to an American woman,(also a painter)in the cafe.
Cafe De Le Rotonde has amazing history. Along with Le Coupole, Le Dome, and Le Select, also on Montparnasse Boulevard, it was a meeting place for artists, sculptors, writers, and poets of Paris in the 1920s and 30s. These artists,(Picasso, Degas, Matisse, Chagall, Diego Riviera, Modigliani to name only some, were so poor they couldn't pay their food bill half the time. Because of this, they would leave a painting with the owner of the cafe, in good faith, that just as soon as they had some cash, they'd be back to pay their tab, and collect their art. Many times however, this never happened so the art was kept and eventually fell into the hands of private collectors. If you had walked into the Cafe Rotonde back in those years, you would have seen paintings tacked up here and there, some of which now hang in various galleries of the world, and are worth millions of euro.
When we left this glorious, old cafe, we walked to the nearby Luxembourg Gardens and saw that there was a stage set up for a one hour jazz concert which would feature the music of Chopin. So we grabbed a few chairs and waited a half hour in the chilly wind and intermittent sprinkles for the concert to begin. We sat through the concert in the wind, huddled together with our umbrella popped open over our heads, and lots of other people did the same thing. It was fun, and when you look around and remember that you are in the Luxembourg Gardens, you savour the moment, because after all, you are in Paris. I think back to the words I heard in the church service today,"Je Vis," which means,"I Live!"
On the way back to the apartment, we stopped to purchase a baguette, some fruit, and a slice of flan which looked yellowish and creamy for our supper. We ate our small dinner, and then went back out for an evening stroll.
We were talking about the Paris and its history and found it amusing that it is called the City of Lights, not only because of the beautiful lights at night on the bridges, the streets, the Eiffel Tower, and the Champs Élysées - but also because the word "Lights" refers to the writers, artists, and academics that have always been drawn to the City...
Saturday 22 June 2013
Le Marche Aux Puces De Saint-Ouen (The Flea Market) & Place De La Bastille
Bonjour Everyone!
I'm sorry to say we started our day at a cafe named LaFavorite on Rue St-Antoine. It is a tragic name for a cafe in Paris - however the croissants were flakey and served with strawberry jam, so we didn't complain.
When we left the cafe, we walked towards the train. While we were sitting on the train enjoying the ride, a group of black people rushed onto the train. They were arguing and yelling loudly at each other and continued the whole time they were on the train, and were still at it when they got off. Everyone was watching and listening to this strange performance. Of course you do feel a little conspicuous when you are the only ones with shiny white faces.
After making it to Metro stop Porte De Clignancourt Terminal, we walked over to the MacDonald's on the corner, where we were to meet Bruno who would be our guide for the "Insider Tour For the Flea market, "or Le Marche aux Puces de Saint-Ouen. Originally we were discouraged from going to this area by Alex, our previous landlord, who said, "It should be called The Market of Thieves!" When we discovered there were guided tours, we hired Bruno, a born and raised Parisian, to take us around the market and orientate us.
We stood around, and finally I saw an elegant looking man, with wavy hair and a bright, pink scarf standing just behind us. Bruno introduced himself to our tiny group of six. Apparently Bruno was supposed to show up at the meeting place in a purple vest, so he could be easily identified. No purple vest - just the brilliant, pink scarf wrapped around his neck. The Asian man in the group, quickly pointed this out. He flapped the piece of paper he had printed off the internet in Bruno's face. Bruno smiled and replied, "But I am French, so I never do what I am supposed to do..." Bruno proceeded to tell us at the start of the tour that the French have two national past-times, "the first is war, but we are not good at war," and "the second is revolution, which we ARE good at." Then Bruno continued to enlighten us further about the French. "The French are mean, arrogant, snobby and pretentious - especially in Paris," he said. When someone says things like this about themselves, you have to hold your face very still and not agree or disagree.
After this clarification, Bruno began to lead us through the labyrinth of the market, winding this way and that, past stunning sights of antique furniture, silverware, dishes, jewellery, etc. The market was like a large city, divided into fourteen districts, and each district had a different name. These markets were upstairs and downstairs, inside and out. Every once in awhile, he stopped to explain some important history surrounding certain antiques which came from specific eras. He also gave us tips about bartering with the vendors.
Bruno explained that the term "Le Marche Aux Puces", actually means "market with fleas". He said that some time after 1870, the Paris rag-and-bone men moved outside the city limits for public health reasons. They settled in Saint-Ouen village and every Sunday, would spread their wares out on the ground, hoping to sell things.
In 1908, people were now able to get to the market using the metro. In 1920, the "Puces" dealers started using small stalls to sell things. By 1945, people were selling second hand furniture and antiques.
As we walked through the market along side Bruno, we could hear jazz music in different areas. We discovered the Festival Jazz Musette Des Puces was taking place in this area over the next few days. Bruno explained that Manouche jazz (gypsy jazz, or gypsy-swing) had become an important part of the Puce's (flea market) identity and explained why. Bruno showed us a jazz club which was called La Chope des Puces, the most renowned jazz club in Paris. He explained the club was named after Django Reinhardt who started gypsy jazz in the 1930s. Django lived in a caravan in the Parisian suburbs with his family. One night, there was a fire, and Django ended up with severe damage to his left hand. Because his last two fingers were paralyzed from the fire, he came up with three finger chord structures, and this is how he invented gypsy jazz. He was a pioneering virtuoso guitarist and composer. Ron and I looked at each other, and decided as soon as the tour was over, we would come over to this club.
As we carried on with the tour, we could see some people getting restless in the group. Soon we lost four members who declared they were bored, and said "Au Revoir". However, we carried on with our new friend Bruno for another hour of a private tour. We continued to look at beautiful pictures, mirrors, lamps, etc. Finally, we felt like Bruno had given us sufficient orientation, so we parted ways.
Immediately Ron and I headed back to La Chope des Puces and asked for a table. The little club was pulsating with music and activity. The waitress offered us the last table for two. We looked over at the table and saw that it was about one inch from the musicians. We agreed that would be much too loud. The waitress shrugged her shoulders and waved us off - so we shrugged our shoulders in return, knowing that we had fallen out of her good graces. We went over to another cafe which Bruno had recommended earlier.
We went into the Chez Louisette Brassiere and were seated by a large, friendly waitress. It felt like we were in Paris of old. There was a piano player, an accordion and a lady with a deep voice singing old Parisian tunes. Lots of French people sang along in a happy, lively way. We ordered two Niçoise salads, French bread and rose wine. The waitress yelled the order up to the chef at the top of the stairs. We enjoyed our salads, and then shared one creme brûlée flambé at our table. We were glad we were shooed away from La Chope des Puces and came to Chez Louisette.
After lunch, we walked around the market for a few more hours, trying to re-trace Bruno's steps. There was so much to look at, it was actually overwhelming. It wasn't possible to get to everything. We decided to leave, because it was becoming more chilly, gray and windy then even previously in the day.
For supper, we stayed in the Marais area and tried more middle eastern food at a place called Chez Hanna on Rue Des Rosiers (which means street of the rose bushes). We tried the vegetarian falafel salad, which was fresh and tasty.
Walking along Rue De Rivoli which turns into Rue St. Antoine, we came out onto Place De La Bastille. On this site was the medieval fortress and prison known as the Bastille. The Bastille was stormed on July 14,1789 by a violent, bloodthirsty, mob looking for gun powder. They later marched onto Versailles, where King Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette were captured, and so began the French Revolution.
When you stand here now, what you see is a large traffic roundabout which exists where the Bastille once stood. In the centre of this roundabout stands an immense, bronze column, known as the Colonne de Juillet (July Column.) It commemorates another overthrowing of a French King in 1830.
We left Place De La Bastille, and as we walked back to the apartment through the chilly evening air, our thoughts were drawn to our friends and family at home and the recent flooding which has occurred in our city and the surrounding areas. Our hearts are certainly with everyone at home...
I'm sorry to say we started our day at a cafe named LaFavorite on Rue St-Antoine. It is a tragic name for a cafe in Paris - however the croissants were flakey and served with strawberry jam, so we didn't complain.
When we left the cafe, we walked towards the train. While we were sitting on the train enjoying the ride, a group of black people rushed onto the train. They were arguing and yelling loudly at each other and continued the whole time they were on the train, and were still at it when they got off. Everyone was watching and listening to this strange performance. Of course you do feel a little conspicuous when you are the only ones with shiny white faces.
After making it to Metro stop Porte De Clignancourt Terminal, we walked over to the MacDonald's on the corner, where we were to meet Bruno who would be our guide for the "Insider Tour For the Flea market, "or Le Marche aux Puces de Saint-Ouen. Originally we were discouraged from going to this area by Alex, our previous landlord, who said, "It should be called The Market of Thieves!" When we discovered there were guided tours, we hired Bruno, a born and raised Parisian, to take us around the market and orientate us.
We stood around, and finally I saw an elegant looking man, with wavy hair and a bright, pink scarf standing just behind us. Bruno introduced himself to our tiny group of six. Apparently Bruno was supposed to show up at the meeting place in a purple vest, so he could be easily identified. No purple vest - just the brilliant, pink scarf wrapped around his neck. The Asian man in the group, quickly pointed this out. He flapped the piece of paper he had printed off the internet in Bruno's face. Bruno smiled and replied, "But I am French, so I never do what I am supposed to do..." Bruno proceeded to tell us at the start of the tour that the French have two national past-times, "the first is war, but we are not good at war," and "the second is revolution, which we ARE good at." Then Bruno continued to enlighten us further about the French. "The French are mean, arrogant, snobby and pretentious - especially in Paris," he said. When someone says things like this about themselves, you have to hold your face very still and not agree or disagree.
After this clarification, Bruno began to lead us through the labyrinth of the market, winding this way and that, past stunning sights of antique furniture, silverware, dishes, jewellery, etc. The market was like a large city, divided into fourteen districts, and each district had a different name. These markets were upstairs and downstairs, inside and out. Every once in awhile, he stopped to explain some important history surrounding certain antiques which came from specific eras. He also gave us tips about bartering with the vendors.
Bruno explained that the term "Le Marche Aux Puces", actually means "market with fleas". He said that some time after 1870, the Paris rag-and-bone men moved outside the city limits for public health reasons. They settled in Saint-Ouen village and every Sunday, would spread their wares out on the ground, hoping to sell things.
In 1908, people were now able to get to the market using the metro. In 1920, the "Puces" dealers started using small stalls to sell things. By 1945, people were selling second hand furniture and antiques.
As we walked through the market along side Bruno, we could hear jazz music in different areas. We discovered the Festival Jazz Musette Des Puces was taking place in this area over the next few days. Bruno explained that Manouche jazz (gypsy jazz, or gypsy-swing) had become an important part of the Puce's (flea market) identity and explained why. Bruno showed us a jazz club which was called La Chope des Puces, the most renowned jazz club in Paris. He explained the club was named after Django Reinhardt who started gypsy jazz in the 1930s. Django lived in a caravan in the Parisian suburbs with his family. One night, there was a fire, and Django ended up with severe damage to his left hand. Because his last two fingers were paralyzed from the fire, he came up with three finger chord structures, and this is how he invented gypsy jazz. He was a pioneering virtuoso guitarist and composer. Ron and I looked at each other, and decided as soon as the tour was over, we would come over to this club.
As we carried on with the tour, we could see some people getting restless in the group. Soon we lost four members who declared they were bored, and said "Au Revoir". However, we carried on with our new friend Bruno for another hour of a private tour. We continued to look at beautiful pictures, mirrors, lamps, etc. Finally, we felt like Bruno had given us sufficient orientation, so we parted ways.
Immediately Ron and I headed back to La Chope des Puces and asked for a table. The little club was pulsating with music and activity. The waitress offered us the last table for two. We looked over at the table and saw that it was about one inch from the musicians. We agreed that would be much too loud. The waitress shrugged her shoulders and waved us off - so we shrugged our shoulders in return, knowing that we had fallen out of her good graces. We went over to another cafe which Bruno had recommended earlier.
We went into the Chez Louisette Brassiere and were seated by a large, friendly waitress. It felt like we were in Paris of old. There was a piano player, an accordion and a lady with a deep voice singing old Parisian tunes. Lots of French people sang along in a happy, lively way. We ordered two Niçoise salads, French bread and rose wine. The waitress yelled the order up to the chef at the top of the stairs. We enjoyed our salads, and then shared one creme brûlée flambé at our table. We were glad we were shooed away from La Chope des Puces and came to Chez Louisette.
After lunch, we walked around the market for a few more hours, trying to re-trace Bruno's steps. There was so much to look at, it was actually overwhelming. It wasn't possible to get to everything. We decided to leave, because it was becoming more chilly, gray and windy then even previously in the day.
For supper, we stayed in the Marais area and tried more middle eastern food at a place called Chez Hanna on Rue Des Rosiers (which means street of the rose bushes). We tried the vegetarian falafel salad, which was fresh and tasty.
Walking along Rue De Rivoli which turns into Rue St. Antoine, we came out onto Place De La Bastille. On this site was the medieval fortress and prison known as the Bastille. The Bastille was stormed on July 14,1789 by a violent, bloodthirsty, mob looking for gun powder. They later marched onto Versailles, where King Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette were captured, and so began the French Revolution.
When you stand here now, what you see is a large traffic roundabout which exists where the Bastille once stood. In the centre of this roundabout stands an immense, bronze column, known as the Colonne de Juillet (July Column.) It commemorates another overthrowing of a French King in 1830.
We left Place De La Bastille, and as we walked back to the apartment through the chilly evening air, our thoughts were drawn to our friends and family at home and the recent flooding which has occurred in our city and the surrounding areas. Our hearts are certainly with everyone at home...
Friday 21 June 2013
The Marais and Fete de la Musique
Bonjour Everyone!
This morning, the first thing we did was pack up our suitcases and go for our nice tradition of coffee and croissants - which you never want to miss, because it's just different in Paris. Afterwards, we walked around the corner with our luggage to catch a cab which would take us to the Marais - a different area in where we have a studio apartment rented for our final week in Paris.
Arriving at the apartment in the Marais, we climbed the four flights of stairs, and saw that the apartment was quite small, however everything in it was very nicely finished. It was nice to be in a different area of Paris.
The Marais spreads across the 3rd and 4th er and is a historic area of Paris. It was known as the aristocratic area of Paris, and from the 17th century was known as the French nobility's favourite place of residence. When the nobility started to move to Faubourg St. Germain, the Marais became one of Paris' main Jewish communities. During World War II, the Marais was targeted by the Nazis, who were then occupying France.
The first thing we did after we arrived at the apartment, was to go for a stroll around the block to orientate ourselves to the area. We walked down Rue Malher which became Rue Pavee, and then turned the corner and walked past the Carnavalat Musee which is a museum specializing in the history of Paris. We turned the corner again and came onto Rue De Sevigne, on which our little apartment was situated - and Voila, we were orientated to our block.
We walked down Rue Rambuteau past the Centre Georges Pompidou which is a museum that houses mostly art of the 20th century. If you want to see bizarre, this is the place for you! The Pompidou is a strange looking structure on the outside. It was designed in the style of high-tech architecture. You see all the functional parts, like the pipes, massive heating ducts, escalators, etc., on the outside. Fortunately we visited this enormous gallery once before, so we didn't have to go back (my feelings, not Ron's). Only one of us is a fan of modern art...
While walking in the direction of the Dehilleron cooking supply store again, we heard the voice of an angel coming from Eglise Saint-Eustache cathedral. We went in, and I must say this lovely, clear voice gave me chills. The band was only doing a sound check in this magnificent cathedral in preparation for their performance this evening in this massive, ancient cathedral, during the Fete de la Musique (festival of music taking place at many venues around Paris this evening). I have no words to describe how beautiful and interesting we found this music. We left and decided to come back later.
When we reached the Dehilleron Cooking supply store, I went back in to this wonderful, old store and purchased some knives, which I am excited about. We left, and Ron bought some shoes at another place. While he was busy trying on shoes, I had a nice conversation with a young man of about 25, who was born in Paris, but was coming to live and work in Montreal, Quebec next year. He explained he couldn't wait to "get out of Paris". He said, "Paris is a nice place to visit, but not to live in!" and also, "It is too crowded, and the people are selfish!" He said that if I was to stay stay in Paris for more than 6 months, I would see that he was right. I asked him if he had told his mother the plans yet - "No!" He explained he would tell her just before he was ready to go. I thought about his mother, and hoped she was enjoying every moment with her son, because unbeknownst to her, he would soon be moving far away.
We went back to the apartment to drop off our purchases, and then went over to L'As du Falafel (which means The Ace of Falafel. It serves Middle Eastern food that is amazing and is located on Rue Des Rosiers, in the 'Pletzl' Jewish quarter. I tried chicken curry Falafel, Ron had the lamb schwarma. Delicious. When you walk up place your order, you see a silly picture of Celine Dion glued just to the left of the window.
When we left L'As du Falafel on Rue Des Rosiers, we stopped by Ecole De Travail. There is a memorial plaque here which remembers over fifteen people (Headmasters) and young men who were present in this school when one day the Gestapo came and dragged them away, deporting them Auschwitz, a concentration camp in Poland. Amongst those dragged off, were three members from the same family, Joseph Kaite, Moise Kaite and Simon Kaite.
As we were walking down Rue Des Rosiers on our way back to hear 'White Prism' perform at Eglise Saint-Eustache, we heard a cracking sound and looked just left to see the bumper fall off the front of a of a small Nissan car. Right beside the car was a guy on a motorbike trying to squeeze between a row of parked cars on his right side and moving traffic on his left. In doing so, he had caught the edge of her bumper, ripped it off and and now it was hanging on the road just attached by a few metal threads. The lady driver was frantic, and kept driving foreword damaging the bumper further. The guy on the motorbike was astonished that he could possibly have been responsible for this! "Oh, Mon Dieu!" We carried on as several people gathered around trying to re-attach the rumpled looking bumper onto the car.
This incident brought to mind another mishap we witnessed while being driven by shuttle to the Charles DeGaulle Airport in Paris a few years ago. We had a French-Vietnamese driver who got too close to an unfortunate cyclist. The vehicle pushed her and her bike against a wire fence. He knocked her off her bike, but only stopped to shout at her in his very unusual accent. She shouted back, waving her arms, and limped off to one side pushing her bike. He didn't ask her if she was hurt. No apology. No acknowledgement of fault on either side, and no call to the police!
Finally after steering our way through people everywhere, we arrived back at Eglise Eustache and went inside this wondrous cathedral where we could already hear a beautiful, clear feminine voice. This band was called 'White Prism'. The woman stood at the front of the cathedral, and the band played. If you looked up, you could see the massive pipe organ above them. I reminded myself that Wolfgang Mozart had attended the funeral of his mother in this cathedral.
Following that performance, we stayed to hear 'Enzyme' perform. He is a young man who is extremely talented in using electronic sounds from piano and synthesizers. We found the music interesting and innovative, and the acoustics in the cathedral certainly enhanced the sounds.
Next an elderly gentleman with snow white hair, Jean Guillou, sat down to demonstrate the sounds that the pipe organ in Saint Eustache was capable of. He played the organ for over an hour. Not only was he a celebrated French composer and organist, but also is a teacher of the organ.
When we did leave Saint-Eustache we stopped at Cafe L'Esplanade on Rue Montorgueil in 1 er to listen to a band of gray haired guys sing old Rolling Stones songs. There were lots of people, and it was cool and breezy, but was still a fun atmosphere!
We left the cafe and went further down Rue Rambuteau and there was a very loud Italian band assembled under a large sign in pink letters which read, "Kiss Me!" Suddenly they broke out singing, " I Did It My Way!" by Frank Sinatra, and then, "Girls Just Want To Have Fun," by Cyndi Lauper. The crowd sang along loudly to the words in English, and next the Italians belted out, "Somebody Told Me You Had Boyfriend!" by The Killers.
We continued on and rounded the corner to Rue St. Martin a large square in front of the Pompidou Museum of Modern Art, where we came upon a music coming from the most entertaining band we'd seen yet. They performed on the second floor of a building right across from the Pompidou while looking down on a very lively crowd. The vocalist sang and danced madly in the centre window, the his band members on either side of him performed in the other windows.There were people sitting all over the square listening to the music, visiting, having picnics and drinking wine. Some people were dancing vigorously to the music.
And then around the corner on Place Igor Stravinsky was a group performing "Mrs. Robinson," written by Paul Simon of Simon & Garfunkel. I noticed the crowds were growing larger as the night went on, and were guzzling the wine right out of bottles quite openly. It was like attending a large party taking place everywhere (which it was. Children were jumping and hopping around to the music. It was loud and festive everytime we turned a corner. There were even bubbles drifting through the air. If you are a person who loves live music, and are coming to Paris in June - then you would not want to miss June 21st, Fete de la Musique, the Summer Solstice celebration.
We ended the evening by strolling around Place Des Vosges, the oldest, (1604) planned square in Paris. We walked past No.6, which was once the home of Victor Hugo from 1832-1848. We stood and listened to a lovely voice similar to that of the old, famed French singer Maurice Chevalier singing, "I've Got Some Red Roses For A Blue Lady," into the chilly night air...
This morning, the first thing we did was pack up our suitcases and go for our nice tradition of coffee and croissants - which you never want to miss, because it's just different in Paris. Afterwards, we walked around the corner with our luggage to catch a cab which would take us to the Marais - a different area in where we have a studio apartment rented for our final week in Paris.
Arriving at the apartment in the Marais, we climbed the four flights of stairs, and saw that the apartment was quite small, however everything in it was very nicely finished. It was nice to be in a different area of Paris.
The Marais spreads across the 3rd and 4th er and is a historic area of Paris. It was known as the aristocratic area of Paris, and from the 17th century was known as the French nobility's favourite place of residence. When the nobility started to move to Faubourg St. Germain, the Marais became one of Paris' main Jewish communities. During World War II, the Marais was targeted by the Nazis, who were then occupying France.
The first thing we did after we arrived at the apartment, was to go for a stroll around the block to orientate ourselves to the area. We walked down Rue Malher which became Rue Pavee, and then turned the corner and walked past the Carnavalat Musee which is a museum specializing in the history of Paris. We turned the corner again and came onto Rue De Sevigne, on which our little apartment was situated - and Voila, we were orientated to our block.
We walked down Rue Rambuteau past the Centre Georges Pompidou which is a museum that houses mostly art of the 20th century. If you want to see bizarre, this is the place for you! The Pompidou is a strange looking structure on the outside. It was designed in the style of high-tech architecture. You see all the functional parts, like the pipes, massive heating ducts, escalators, etc., on the outside. Fortunately we visited this enormous gallery once before, so we didn't have to go back (my feelings, not Ron's). Only one of us is a fan of modern art...
While walking in the direction of the Dehilleron cooking supply store again, we heard the voice of an angel coming from Eglise Saint-Eustache cathedral. We went in, and I must say this lovely, clear voice gave me chills. The band was only doing a sound check in this magnificent cathedral in preparation for their performance this evening in this massive, ancient cathedral, during the Fete de la Musique (festival of music taking place at many venues around Paris this evening). I have no words to describe how beautiful and interesting we found this music. We left and decided to come back later.
When we reached the Dehilleron Cooking supply store, I went back in to this wonderful, old store and purchased some knives, which I am excited about. We left, and Ron bought some shoes at another place. While he was busy trying on shoes, I had a nice conversation with a young man of about 25, who was born in Paris, but was coming to live and work in Montreal, Quebec next year. He explained he couldn't wait to "get out of Paris". He said, "Paris is a nice place to visit, but not to live in!" and also, "It is too crowded, and the people are selfish!" He said that if I was to stay stay in Paris for more than 6 months, I would see that he was right. I asked him if he had told his mother the plans yet - "No!" He explained he would tell her just before he was ready to go. I thought about his mother, and hoped she was enjoying every moment with her son, because unbeknownst to her, he would soon be moving far away.
We went back to the apartment to drop off our purchases, and then went over to L'As du Falafel (which means The Ace of Falafel. It serves Middle Eastern food that is amazing and is located on Rue Des Rosiers, in the 'Pletzl' Jewish quarter. I tried chicken curry Falafel, Ron had the lamb schwarma. Delicious. When you walk up place your order, you see a silly picture of Celine Dion glued just to the left of the window.
When we left L'As du Falafel on Rue Des Rosiers, we stopped by Ecole De Travail. There is a memorial plaque here which remembers over fifteen people (Headmasters) and young men who were present in this school when one day the Gestapo came and dragged them away, deporting them Auschwitz, a concentration camp in Poland. Amongst those dragged off, were three members from the same family, Joseph Kaite, Moise Kaite and Simon Kaite.
As we were walking down Rue Des Rosiers on our way back to hear 'White Prism' perform at Eglise Saint-Eustache, we heard a cracking sound and looked just left to see the bumper fall off the front of a of a small Nissan car. Right beside the car was a guy on a motorbike trying to squeeze between a row of parked cars on his right side and moving traffic on his left. In doing so, he had caught the edge of her bumper, ripped it off and and now it was hanging on the road just attached by a few metal threads. The lady driver was frantic, and kept driving foreword damaging the bumper further. The guy on the motorbike was astonished that he could possibly have been responsible for this! "Oh, Mon Dieu!" We carried on as several people gathered around trying to re-attach the rumpled looking bumper onto the car.
This incident brought to mind another mishap we witnessed while being driven by shuttle to the Charles DeGaulle Airport in Paris a few years ago. We had a French-Vietnamese driver who got too close to an unfortunate cyclist. The vehicle pushed her and her bike against a wire fence. He knocked her off her bike, but only stopped to shout at her in his very unusual accent. She shouted back, waving her arms, and limped off to one side pushing her bike. He didn't ask her if she was hurt. No apology. No acknowledgement of fault on either side, and no call to the police!
Finally after steering our way through people everywhere, we arrived back at Eglise Eustache and went inside this wondrous cathedral where we could already hear a beautiful, clear feminine voice. This band was called 'White Prism'. The woman stood at the front of the cathedral, and the band played. If you looked up, you could see the massive pipe organ above them. I reminded myself that Wolfgang Mozart had attended the funeral of his mother in this cathedral.
Following that performance, we stayed to hear 'Enzyme' perform. He is a young man who is extremely talented in using electronic sounds from piano and synthesizers. We found the music interesting and innovative, and the acoustics in the cathedral certainly enhanced the sounds.
Next an elderly gentleman with snow white hair, Jean Guillou, sat down to demonstrate the sounds that the pipe organ in Saint Eustache was capable of. He played the organ for over an hour. Not only was he a celebrated French composer and organist, but also is a teacher of the organ.
When we did leave Saint-Eustache we stopped at Cafe L'Esplanade on Rue Montorgueil in 1 er to listen to a band of gray haired guys sing old Rolling Stones songs. There were lots of people, and it was cool and breezy, but was still a fun atmosphere!
We left the cafe and went further down Rue Rambuteau and there was a very loud Italian band assembled under a large sign in pink letters which read, "Kiss Me!" Suddenly they broke out singing, " I Did It My Way!" by Frank Sinatra, and then, "Girls Just Want To Have Fun," by Cyndi Lauper. The crowd sang along loudly to the words in English, and next the Italians belted out, "Somebody Told Me You Had Boyfriend!" by The Killers.
We continued on and rounded the corner to Rue St. Martin a large square in front of the Pompidou Museum of Modern Art, where we came upon a music coming from the most entertaining band we'd seen yet. They performed on the second floor of a building right across from the Pompidou while looking down on a very lively crowd. The vocalist sang and danced madly in the centre window, the his band members on either side of him performed in the other windows.There were people sitting all over the square listening to the music, visiting, having picnics and drinking wine. Some people were dancing vigorously to the music.
And then around the corner on Place Igor Stravinsky was a group performing "Mrs. Robinson," written by Paul Simon of Simon & Garfunkel. I noticed the crowds were growing larger as the night went on, and were guzzling the wine right out of bottles quite openly. It was like attending a large party taking place everywhere (which it was. Children were jumping and hopping around to the music. It was loud and festive everytime we turned a corner. There were even bubbles drifting through the air. If you are a person who loves live music, and are coming to Paris in June - then you would not want to miss June 21st, Fete de la Musique, the Summer Solstice celebration.
We ended the evening by strolling around Place Des Vosges, the oldest, (1604) planned square in Paris. We walked past No.6, which was once the home of Victor Hugo from 1832-1848. We stood and listened to a lovely voice similar to that of the old, famed French singer Maurice Chevalier singing, "I've Got Some Red Roses For A Blue Lady," into the chilly night air...
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