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...
Thursday 20 June 2013
The Petit Palais, Musee Rodin, Art Nouveau, and Julia Child
Bonjour Family and Friends!
We started our day in the usual way at the Patissiere just across the way. Today we lolly gagged there quite awhile while choosing how to spend the day in Paris. Once we finally left our little table, we walked over to the metro station Maubert-Mutualite and hopped on the train with the plan of disembarking at the Champs Élysées stop (after only changing trains once). When we came up from the tunnel into daylight, it was pouring rain once again. It was a good thing we had packed our umbrellas. With umbrellas open, we sloshed through the water to the Petit Palais on the De la Ville de Paris, between the Champs Élysées and the River Seine. The Petit Palais is across from the Grand Palais and both structures were built for the Universal Exposition of 1900.
The Petit Palais now houses the City of Paris Museum of Fine Arts. It displays an amazing collection of paintings and sculptures, pottery and jewellery. There were works by artists we love such as Rembrandt, Ruebens, Delacroix, Monet, Pisaro, Sisley, Cezanne, Modiggliani and Rodin. There were also works by lots of artists we had never heard of. It is fascinating to look at art that depicts life back in the 1600's. There were so many, beautiful and very touching paintings of people in all kinds of situations in life. I took quite a few pictures of some of these works. One picture was of a destitute little boy from the 1700's who had fallen asleep in a dark, corner of a street. As well, there was a beautiful picture of a woman in a black dress with a large hat, which was called "Parisian Life".
We left the museum and walked across the Pont Alexandre III (bridge). This bridge is a stunning work of art in itself. It is the most ornate bridge in Paris. You see lots of gold and bronze sculptures. There are beautiful, large lanterns all across. It is also interesting to note that the bridge was designed by Gustave Eiffel. All along the bridge, are different sculptures including the nymphs of the Seine. This bridge is featured in "Midnight in Paris", as well as the James Bond movie, "A View To A Kill". Also, if you are an "Adele" fan, and love the song, "Someone Like You," you'll see the music video was filmed on this bridge.
We walked along Boulevard Des Invalides on our way to Musee Rodin on 79 Rue de Varenne but on the way we stopped at Cafe Du Musee Brassiere, which was very close to Musee Rodin.
At the cafe, I tried the Croquet Monsieur sandwich, which was fattening, but delicious and Ron had a chicken salad and we decided to share everything. Though we liked the food, we didn't especially care for the cafe, as it seems to have become a place where the customer, especially the English-speaking ones, are not appreciated. We felt the waiters were unfriendly, and it's really the first time, that we've really noticed this. Even if you try to do all the right things like say "Bonjour Monsieur" before you order anything, or "sil vous plait" (if you please) after you do put in your order, and "Merci", when the food is brought to your table, you just can't please some waiters. Maybe it's because the gratuity is already included in the menu price. This really gives the waiters the upper hand because it can lessen their incentive to behave properly. If you are happy with the service then do what the French do - leave some change on the table and depart with a smile and an "Au Revoir Monsieur!".
But happily, we shook off our cranky waiter, and walked into the loveliness of the Rodin Museum, which apparently has been open since 1919. Before we saw his glorious sculptures in the marble gallery, we walked through an extensive, lush garden filled with roses of all different colours. I noticed an Asian girl taking and re-taking pictures of herself over and over again, amongst the roses. In this garden we saw many of Rodins' large, bronze sculptures including his most well known and famous one - "The Thinker", which was wonderful to finally see, as both Ron and I have wanted to see this since we learned about it while sitting together in Art History (when we were 18 and 19).
But, even more stunning was the marble gallery which had an extensive collection of white sculptures. These works could not help but capture you. You had the greatest impulse to touch the marble which looked like silk, but of course this was not allowed.
Rodin was able to extract human emotions and display them in marble. This was said of Rodin in an article on line, "His genius was to express inner truths of the human psyche, and his gaze penetrated beneath the external appearance of the world. Exploring this realm beneath the surface, Rodin developed an agile technique for rendering the extreme physical states that correspond to expressions of inner turmoil or overwhelming joy. He sculpted a universe of great passion and tragedy, a world of imagination that exceeded the mundane reality of everyday existence." That really tells it about this collection exactly as you see it. The figures emerge from the block of white marble, but part of the figure is still in the marble. The most glorious and captivating sculpture is "The Kiss". If you have never seen this, please look it up because it is so beautiful.
Other works have names like, The Secret, The Hands of Lovers, Day and Night, Despair, The Convalescent, Psyche and Cupid - just to name a few. Another one is called "Winter" and it is represented by an old, withered woman, who is long past her prime.
When we left the museum, we walked along Rue St. Dominique, and saw the Tourville cafe was just ahead, so we stopped in to celebrate Auguste Rodin, and the beauty of his life and works, with a glass of rosé wine from Provence. We could see the Eiffel Tower while sitting there admiring the sights all around, which isn't hard to do in Paris - because there is always something interesting to look at. One mystery remains which I don't think there is an answer for. Why do Parisians wear big scarves in the summer? You and I would peel the scarf off, because we would perish of heat stroke if otherwise, but not the Parisians. No way. That scarf will never come off.
We left the cafe, and walked by the Lavirotte Building on 29 Rue Rapp to see one of the coolest examples of Art Nouveau architecture. The whole facade of the building was flamboyant to say the least, but the exquisite doorway into the building is what really captured our attention. And if you turned around, there was the Eiffel Tower! Just a note about art nouveau - it is a decorative style of art that was really popular between 1890 and 1910.
Over the last several days, as we've walked around the Paris streets we have seen different stages being set up for tomorrows' 'Fete de la Musique' (which means "Make Music")the biggest music celebration on the longest day of the year in Paris. The festival originated in Paris in 1982 and is now celebrated world wide. There will be musicians at every turn playing everything from classical, to rock, to jazz. Alex, our landlord, said that it will be loud around the city and that the celebration would go long into the night. Ron was happy about this, and even happier when he found a festival program laying on a park bench.
Lastly today, before we again limped into the apartment, we walked down Rue De L'Universite in the 7er (arrondissement) and paused at the big blue doors with the Number 81 just in the upper right corner. One level of this apartment building was the home of Paul and Julia Child for a few years when they first came to Paris in the late 1940's. If you read "My Life In France", you can't help but stand at this doorway and try to imagine what it must have been like when Julia moved to Paris with her husband, and wondered what she might do to keep herself occupied. Not only did she learn French, but she got interested in cooking, went to Cordon Bleu cooking school and the rest is just amazing history...
We started our day in the usual way at the Patissiere just across the way. Today we lolly gagged there quite awhile while choosing how to spend the day in Paris. Once we finally left our little table, we walked over to the metro station Maubert-Mutualite and hopped on the train with the plan of disembarking at the Champs Élysées stop (after only changing trains once). When we came up from the tunnel into daylight, it was pouring rain once again. It was a good thing we had packed our umbrellas. With umbrellas open, we sloshed through the water to the Petit Palais on the De la Ville de Paris, between the Champs Élysées and the River Seine. The Petit Palais is across from the Grand Palais and both structures were built for the Universal Exposition of 1900.
The Petit Palais now houses the City of Paris Museum of Fine Arts. It displays an amazing collection of paintings and sculptures, pottery and jewellery. There were works by artists we love such as Rembrandt, Ruebens, Delacroix, Monet, Pisaro, Sisley, Cezanne, Modiggliani and Rodin. There were also works by lots of artists we had never heard of. It is fascinating to look at art that depicts life back in the 1600's. There were so many, beautiful and very touching paintings of people in all kinds of situations in life. I took quite a few pictures of some of these works. One picture was of a destitute little boy from the 1700's who had fallen asleep in a dark, corner of a street. As well, there was a beautiful picture of a woman in a black dress with a large hat, which was called "Parisian Life".
We left the museum and walked across the Pont Alexandre III (bridge). This bridge is a stunning work of art in itself. It is the most ornate bridge in Paris. You see lots of gold and bronze sculptures. There are beautiful, large lanterns all across. It is also interesting to note that the bridge was designed by Gustave Eiffel. All along the bridge, are different sculptures including the nymphs of the Seine. This bridge is featured in "Midnight in Paris", as well as the James Bond movie, "A View To A Kill". Also, if you are an "Adele" fan, and love the song, "Someone Like You," you'll see the music video was filmed on this bridge.
We walked along Boulevard Des Invalides on our way to Musee Rodin on 79 Rue de Varenne but on the way we stopped at Cafe Du Musee Brassiere, which was very close to Musee Rodin.
At the cafe, I tried the Croquet Monsieur sandwich, which was fattening, but delicious and Ron had a chicken salad and we decided to share everything. Though we liked the food, we didn't especially care for the cafe, as it seems to have become a place where the customer, especially the English-speaking ones, are not appreciated. We felt the waiters were unfriendly, and it's really the first time, that we've really noticed this. Even if you try to do all the right things like say "Bonjour Monsieur" before you order anything, or "sil vous plait" (if you please) after you do put in your order, and "Merci", when the food is brought to your table, you just can't please some waiters. Maybe it's because the gratuity is already included in the menu price. This really gives the waiters the upper hand because it can lessen their incentive to behave properly. If you are happy with the service then do what the French do - leave some change on the table and depart with a smile and an "Au Revoir Monsieur!".
But happily, we shook off our cranky waiter, and walked into the loveliness of the Rodin Museum, which apparently has been open since 1919. Before we saw his glorious sculptures in the marble gallery, we walked through an extensive, lush garden filled with roses of all different colours. I noticed an Asian girl taking and re-taking pictures of herself over and over again, amongst the roses. In this garden we saw many of Rodins' large, bronze sculptures including his most well known and famous one - "The Thinker", which was wonderful to finally see, as both Ron and I have wanted to see this since we learned about it while sitting together in Art History (when we were 18 and 19).
But, even more stunning was the marble gallery which had an extensive collection of white sculptures. These works could not help but capture you. You had the greatest impulse to touch the marble which looked like silk, but of course this was not allowed.
Rodin was able to extract human emotions and display them in marble. This was said of Rodin in an article on line, "His genius was to express inner truths of the human psyche, and his gaze penetrated beneath the external appearance of the world. Exploring this realm beneath the surface, Rodin developed an agile technique for rendering the extreme physical states that correspond to expressions of inner turmoil or overwhelming joy. He sculpted a universe of great passion and tragedy, a world of imagination that exceeded the mundane reality of everyday existence." That really tells it about this collection exactly as you see it. The figures emerge from the block of white marble, but part of the figure is still in the marble. The most glorious and captivating sculpture is "The Kiss". If you have never seen this, please look it up because it is so beautiful.
Other works have names like, The Secret, The Hands of Lovers, Day and Night, Despair, The Convalescent, Psyche and Cupid - just to name a few. Another one is called "Winter" and it is represented by an old, withered woman, who is long past her prime.
When we left the museum, we walked along Rue St. Dominique, and saw the Tourville cafe was just ahead, so we stopped in to celebrate Auguste Rodin, and the beauty of his life and works, with a glass of rosé wine from Provence. We could see the Eiffel Tower while sitting there admiring the sights all around, which isn't hard to do in Paris - because there is always something interesting to look at. One mystery remains which I don't think there is an answer for. Why do Parisians wear big scarves in the summer? You and I would peel the scarf off, because we would perish of heat stroke if otherwise, but not the Parisians. No way. That scarf will never come off.
We left the cafe, and walked by the Lavirotte Building on 29 Rue Rapp to see one of the coolest examples of Art Nouveau architecture. The whole facade of the building was flamboyant to say the least, but the exquisite doorway into the building is what really captured our attention. And if you turned around, there was the Eiffel Tower! Just a note about art nouveau - it is a decorative style of art that was really popular between 1890 and 1910.
Over the last several days, as we've walked around the Paris streets we have seen different stages being set up for tomorrows' 'Fete de la Musique' (which means "Make Music")the biggest music celebration on the longest day of the year in Paris. The festival originated in Paris in 1982 and is now celebrated world wide. There will be musicians at every turn playing everything from classical, to rock, to jazz. Alex, our landlord, said that it will be loud around the city and that the celebration would go long into the night. Ron was happy about this, and even happier when he found a festival program laying on a park bench.
Lastly today, before we again limped into the apartment, we walked down Rue De L'Universite in the 7er (arrondissement) and paused at the big blue doors with the Number 81 just in the upper right corner. One level of this apartment building was the home of Paul and Julia Child for a few years when they first came to Paris in the late 1940's. If you read "My Life In France", you can't help but stand at this doorway and try to imagine what it must have been like when Julia moved to Paris with her husband, and wondered what she might do to keep herself occupied. Not only did she learn French, but she got interested in cooking, went to Cordon Bleu cooking school and the rest is just amazing history...
Wednesday 19 June 2013
E. Dehilleron Cookware, Le Palais Garnier Opera House, and Christian Dior
Bonjour Friends and Family!
Since we liked the Boulanger-Patissiere called Salon de The, we went back there again this morning to think about the day ahead. While thinking, we ordered our favourite things - Chausson aux pommes (flakey apple pastries and cafe au lait). The beauty about having been to Paris on a few occasions, is that you can see different things each time, or maybe return to places that you never did get enough of the first time.
We took our time and sat observing Parisian morning life in this busy area of the city. We saw a father emerge from a door in an apartment, with a child and off they went. A business man in a nice black suit drove by on a bicycle. Delivery trucks rushed by with their orders. Mothers walked by pushing strollers. Life really is the same everywhere when you think about it.
When we left the cafe, we walked over to Eglise Saint Severin which is situated on a street in the Latin Quarter called Rue Saint Severin, just a stones throw from us. At the entrance to the cathedral, there was a large gypsy woman sitting on the ground, who banged her plastic cup several times as we came up the steps to the door. Because this church was so close to us, and being one of the oldest churches in Paris of classic gothic architecture, we decided we didn't want to miss it. Inside the church is an interesting pillar in the shape of a palm tree. Apparently Saint Severin was a hermit who died in 555 and the church was built on top of his grave. I'm not sure what good works Saint Severin actually did, being a hermit and everything.
We left Saint Severin, and could hear the beautiful majestic bells of Notre Dame cathedral ringing as we walked over the Pont Neuf (bridge) down Rue De Louvre in the direction of the famed E. Dehillerin on the corner of Rue du Jour and 18-20 rue Coquilliere. E. Dehillerin is a cookware shop which has been selling cookware for professional and home chefs since 1820. It is very cluttered, crowded, and full of copper pots, knives of all kinds, etc. When you walk in, you get the feeling things have not changed much here since the store first opened at this location in 1880. There are a couple of pictures of Julia Child nailed onto a beam behind the cash register, but you'd miss them if you were not aware that she did lots of shopping here even up to her death in 2004. It was a fun and exciting to come to this store and squeeze past other people while trying to look at the selection of knives, and other interesting tools, all designed to make one's life easier in the kitchen. I found this a refreshing experience, as I will be back at Crate & Barrel soon enough at home.
When we left the cooking store, we saw another incredible, gothic looking cathedral called Eglise Saint Eustache, and decided to go have a look. This one was built around 1532. We discovered some amazing history here. Louis XIV received communion here as a young child, and apparently Mozart chose this cathedral as the place for the funeral of his mother. As well, we saw paintings by Ruebens on the walls.
When we left the church, we saw that we were right around the corner from Rue Montorgueil, which I had heard we shouldn't miss, especially at Christmas (when we won't be here). It was a street bustling with activity and there were lots of shops and small cafes. We noticed there seemed to be a lot of Italian cuisine around. We were enticed into Caldo-Freddo at 34 Rue Montorgueil because a girl was standing out on the street handing out samples to people passing by. While we enjoyed our Basica-margherita-mozzarella pizza, a girl sat next to us smoking. I asked her about the strawberry odor from the smoke. She explained that the odor was coming from a device (which looked like a Bic pen) called a a "clopinette" which is an electronic cigarette. She said that some people called them "e-cigarettes," and that a clopinette is like a personal vaporizer which is an electronic inhaler that vaporises a liquid solution into an aerosol mist. "It makes you feel like you are smoking tobacco". She said she enjoyed it, and was not trying to quit smoking. I smiled and wished to myself she would lose her "clopinette" somewhere.
When we left Caldo-Freddo, Ron informed me that he wanted to see Le Palais Garnier, or Opera Garnier at 8 Rue Scribe. I was a bit surprised by this, but agreed to go. It is a theatre which houses the Paris Opera, and is one of the most famous opera houses in the world. It was the setting for the "Phantom of the Opera". We were able to tour this opera house which was founded in 1669. It was a breathtaking structure, full of the most elegant, sculptures and paintings. You could see the stage where the operas took place. The opera house is now used primarily for the Paris Opera Ballet.
After this, we walked over to the Ritz hotel, where the whole front entrance is under construction. I saw a Christian Dior store across Place Vendome, and went to see if one of my favourite perfumes might be there. There were two men dressed in black suits who stood at the entrance of this exquisite store. They opened the door for me, even though I would have rather opened it myself, and said, " Bonjour Madame", in a very respectful manner, even though they could see I looked like a wreck, and that my hair was all messed up from the wind. I inquired if they sold perfume, because all I could see was sparkling watches and jewellery behind glass counters, and rich looking ladies sitting around. "No perfume here", I was told. I left, having to walk bravely past those men in black suits again. So, Ron and I walked past Chanel, but I didn't go in to the store this time, as I had seen the exquisite staircase on 31 Rue Cambon once before. Besides, I didn't want to walk past any more nice looking men in black suits.
I am happy to report that I did find another Christian Dior store just a little ways down the block, and was able to get my perfume.
We started on our way back, but stopped first at a non-descriptive Cafe on Rue De Saussaies. We sat for a glass of rose and to give our aching feet a break. Right next to us, was a large man smoking a cigar the size of a cucumber. He puffed away, while I coughed and choked right beside him. On our way to the Metro station near the Champs Élysées we got caught in a torrential downpour. There was wind and heavy rain. People were screaming and running for shelter. The Hop-on-Hop-off tour bus drove by. People on the upper level were not enjoying themselves. Sharing one umbrella, we ran to the Metro and it was crowded with people inside waiting out the rain.
Finally we limped wearily to our building and climbed the four flights of stairs to our apartment, and Ron made a nice salad for us, and it was accompanied by a crusty baguette. We sat quietly at our table with the big windows opened in front of us and looked out just across the way to the beautiful apartment with the ornate wrought iron surrounding the balconies.
After a proper rest, we went for an evening stroll down Rue de la Huchette, St. Germain. We came across a supplier of the famed Bertillon glacé and sorbets on Rue Buci. I tried the chocolate noir with a raspberry scoop added, Ron had his favourite pistachio. We started back and it was sprinkling when we cut through Cour Du Commerce Saint-Andre where the cobblestone is very worn and where the elegant Le Cafe Procope founded in 1686 is still serving its cuisine with old Parisian charm. If the walls in this cafe could tell you stories, it would say that people like Benjamin Franklin, Voltaire, Thomas Jefferson and Napoleon Bonaparte were here...
Since we liked the Boulanger-Patissiere called Salon de The, we went back there again this morning to think about the day ahead. While thinking, we ordered our favourite things - Chausson aux pommes (flakey apple pastries and cafe au lait). The beauty about having been to Paris on a few occasions, is that you can see different things each time, or maybe return to places that you never did get enough of the first time.
We took our time and sat observing Parisian morning life in this busy area of the city. We saw a father emerge from a door in an apartment, with a child and off they went. A business man in a nice black suit drove by on a bicycle. Delivery trucks rushed by with their orders. Mothers walked by pushing strollers. Life really is the same everywhere when you think about it.
When we left the cafe, we walked over to Eglise Saint Severin which is situated on a street in the Latin Quarter called Rue Saint Severin, just a stones throw from us. At the entrance to the cathedral, there was a large gypsy woman sitting on the ground, who banged her plastic cup several times as we came up the steps to the door. Because this church was so close to us, and being one of the oldest churches in Paris of classic gothic architecture, we decided we didn't want to miss it. Inside the church is an interesting pillar in the shape of a palm tree. Apparently Saint Severin was a hermit who died in 555 and the church was built on top of his grave. I'm not sure what good works Saint Severin actually did, being a hermit and everything.
We left Saint Severin, and could hear the beautiful majestic bells of Notre Dame cathedral ringing as we walked over the Pont Neuf (bridge) down Rue De Louvre in the direction of the famed E. Dehillerin on the corner of Rue du Jour and 18-20 rue Coquilliere. E. Dehillerin is a cookware shop which has been selling cookware for professional and home chefs since 1820. It is very cluttered, crowded, and full of copper pots, knives of all kinds, etc. When you walk in, you get the feeling things have not changed much here since the store first opened at this location in 1880. There are a couple of pictures of Julia Child nailed onto a beam behind the cash register, but you'd miss them if you were not aware that she did lots of shopping here even up to her death in 2004. It was a fun and exciting to come to this store and squeeze past other people while trying to look at the selection of knives, and other interesting tools, all designed to make one's life easier in the kitchen. I found this a refreshing experience, as I will be back at Crate & Barrel soon enough at home.
When we left the cooking store, we saw another incredible, gothic looking cathedral called Eglise Saint Eustache, and decided to go have a look. This one was built around 1532. We discovered some amazing history here. Louis XIV received communion here as a young child, and apparently Mozart chose this cathedral as the place for the funeral of his mother. As well, we saw paintings by Ruebens on the walls.
When we left the church, we saw that we were right around the corner from Rue Montorgueil, which I had heard we shouldn't miss, especially at Christmas (when we won't be here). It was a street bustling with activity and there were lots of shops and small cafes. We noticed there seemed to be a lot of Italian cuisine around. We were enticed into Caldo-Freddo at 34 Rue Montorgueil because a girl was standing out on the street handing out samples to people passing by. While we enjoyed our Basica-margherita-mozzarella pizza, a girl sat next to us smoking. I asked her about the strawberry odor from the smoke. She explained that the odor was coming from a device (which looked like a Bic pen) called a a "clopinette" which is an electronic cigarette. She said that some people called them "e-cigarettes," and that a clopinette is like a personal vaporizer which is an electronic inhaler that vaporises a liquid solution into an aerosol mist. "It makes you feel like you are smoking tobacco". She said she enjoyed it, and was not trying to quit smoking. I smiled and wished to myself she would lose her "clopinette" somewhere.
When we left Caldo-Freddo, Ron informed me that he wanted to see Le Palais Garnier, or Opera Garnier at 8 Rue Scribe. I was a bit surprised by this, but agreed to go. It is a theatre which houses the Paris Opera, and is one of the most famous opera houses in the world. It was the setting for the "Phantom of the Opera". We were able to tour this opera house which was founded in 1669. It was a breathtaking structure, full of the most elegant, sculptures and paintings. You could see the stage where the operas took place. The opera house is now used primarily for the Paris Opera Ballet.
After this, we walked over to the Ritz hotel, where the whole front entrance is under construction. I saw a Christian Dior store across Place Vendome, and went to see if one of my favourite perfumes might be there. There were two men dressed in black suits who stood at the entrance of this exquisite store. They opened the door for me, even though I would have rather opened it myself, and said, " Bonjour Madame", in a very respectful manner, even though they could see I looked like a wreck, and that my hair was all messed up from the wind. I inquired if they sold perfume, because all I could see was sparkling watches and jewellery behind glass counters, and rich looking ladies sitting around. "No perfume here", I was told. I left, having to walk bravely past those men in black suits again. So, Ron and I walked past Chanel, but I didn't go in to the store this time, as I had seen the exquisite staircase on 31 Rue Cambon once before. Besides, I didn't want to walk past any more nice looking men in black suits.
I am happy to report that I did find another Christian Dior store just a little ways down the block, and was able to get my perfume.
We started on our way back, but stopped first at a non-descriptive Cafe on Rue De Saussaies. We sat for a glass of rose and to give our aching feet a break. Right next to us, was a large man smoking a cigar the size of a cucumber. He puffed away, while I coughed and choked right beside him. On our way to the Metro station near the Champs Élysées we got caught in a torrential downpour. There was wind and heavy rain. People were screaming and running for shelter. The Hop-on-Hop-off tour bus drove by. People on the upper level were not enjoying themselves. Sharing one umbrella, we ran to the Metro and it was crowded with people inside waiting out the rain.
Finally we limped wearily to our building and climbed the four flights of stairs to our apartment, and Ron made a nice salad for us, and it was accompanied by a crusty baguette. We sat quietly at our table with the big windows opened in front of us and looked out just across the way to the beautiful apartment with the ornate wrought iron surrounding the balconies.
After a proper rest, we went for an evening stroll down Rue de la Huchette, St. Germain. We came across a supplier of the famed Bertillon glacé and sorbets on Rue Buci. I tried the chocolate noir with a raspberry scoop added, Ron had his favourite pistachio. We started back and it was sprinkling when we cut through Cour Du Commerce Saint-Andre where the cobblestone is very worn and where the elegant Le Cafe Procope founded in 1686 is still serving its cuisine with old Parisian charm. If the walls in this cafe could tell you stories, it would say that people like Benjamin Franklin, Voltaire, Thomas Jefferson and Napoleon Bonaparte were here...
Tuesday 18 June 2013
St. Sulpice, The Smoking Dog, and The Eiffel Tower
Bonjour Family and Friends!
Today we went across a tiny street to a patisserie - boulanger called Cafe Salon de The (pronounced "Tay"). Alex - the person who rented this apartment to us, advised that the baker at this patisserie was "starting to get better," as apparently there had been some complaints. We ordered two coffees and two flakey, buttery pastries filled with warm puréed apple, which were delectable. No complaints from us.
From there we walked over to the market on Boulevard St. Germain to see if there was anything new. There was the usual lovely fruits and vegetables, piles of different types of olives, sausages, cheeses and other things like scarves, jewellery and clothing.
From there we wandered over to the Fountaine Saint-Michel in Place Saint-Michel in the 5th arrondissement. (I should mention that the city of Paris is divided into twenty arrondissements, or districts). It is a very large monument of the Archangel Michael treading on a dragon, carrying a banner and sword. There are two dragons on the lower level, each spewing water from their mouths. While we were standing and looking at the monument, a gold ring dropped on the ground in front of us. The person then picked it up and asked me if the ring belonged to me. I said, "No", and then he offered to sell it to me. I waved him off, finding it hard to believe that anyone could fall for this silly scam.
From there we walked over to L'Eglise St. Sulpice on Place St. Sulpice to see another historic cathedral in which construction began in 1646. Apparently the Marquis de Sade was christened in this church, but if you know anything about him, you know that he grew up into a nasty, depraved individual. On a more interesting note, Victor Hugo was married here. Apparently the organ in this church is one of the world's largest, with 6,588 pipes. As well, everyone knows that St. Sulpice played an important role in the book, "The Da Vinci Code". I think I might re-read this when I get home. One very spectacular thing I should mention, is that you could watch a video in the church, of people being baptized in water. The water came pouring over their heads in slow motion, splashing down their faces. It was absolutely stunning to watch. (There is even a website for this called Baptism@benjaminb.com.)
We left St. Sulpice and stopped at the very old cafe of Les Deux Magots (which means "two figurines from China"), in the Saint-Germain-des-Pres area in the 6th arrondissement. It's famous, because at one time it was a rendezvous area for the literary and intellectuals of the city. (Ernest Hemingway, Pablo Picasso, James Joyce and others). The cafe once belonged to a fabric and novelty shop on the same site, that turned into a cafe. If you go in the doors of the cafe, and don't mind feeling a twinge of embarrassment for a few moments, you can get a photograph of two large magot (Chinese salesman) statues who keep watch over all the people who might be sitting around and philosophizing.
After this, we carried on and walked across the Pont Neuf Bridge which spans over the Seine. This brought us into the 1st arrondissement, just south of Rue Montorgueil. The Pont Neuf is the oldest bridge on which construction began in 1578. The reason we went over the Pont Neuf was to go to 'Le Chien qui Fume' (The Smoking Dog) Bistro for lunch, which dates to 1740. The address is 33, Rue du Pont Neuf, in case anyone is interested. Apparently a lot of the farmers who brought their fruits and vegetables to the old market of Les Halles from surrounding farms, would stay and eat in this Inn,(now a cafe. Eventually the area around the Inn evolved into a red light district, because Les Halles market never slept.
We were happy with our lunch there, and it was fun to see this beautiful, old bistro. If only walls could talk! I tried the parma tagliatelle and Ron had the salmon tagliatelle, and we both found the cafe interesting. There were lots of old pictures on the wall of the old Les Halles market.
I found out about The Smoking Dog bistro when I learned about the old market system of Paris called Les Halles. For 800 years this market was the centre of food distribution in Paris, and it was called, "The Belly of Paris" by Emile Zola. The market was a shelter for merchants who came from all over to sell their products. Vegetables were sold during the day, but it was at night that the fish and meat vendors went into full swing. Thousands of tons of meat were bought, butchered, traded and sold. This market was also a meeting place for the citizens of Paris. Naughty things also took place at the market, where prostitutes found favour with many of the robust butchers and meat carriers. To the north of the market was rue Saint Denis known for its "slimmer prostitutes".
There was a Parisian photographer named Robert Doisneau who captured Les Halles as it was, in some of his famous photographs. Last spring,there was a display of his many of his famous photographs. (I nearly cried myself to sleep when I discovered this).
Sadly, the success of Les Halles was its own undoing. The traffic started to become a serious problem, and the site was destroyed in 1971. Now, there is an underground mall there, and a lot of building and construction taking place over the old market site. The market was re-located to the suburb of Rungis, which I didn't find myself that interested in.
It was said that when the food market was moved out of Les Halles, Paris was eviscerated. How I wish I could have seen this glorious market!
After walking around the area in stifling heat and humidity, we headed back to the cool apartment for a break.
We sat around for awhile looking out the apartment windows and listening to life out on the streets. After sharing a baguette and cheese and some fruit in the late afternoon, we headed out on the metro in the direction of the Eiffel Tower. We got off at the Trocadero stop and walked to Trocadero Square. We sat on a stone ledge where there was an excellent view of the fountain canons shooting out water. Just beyond the fountains, the Eiffel Tower could be clearly seen.
When we got to the tower, we could see there was construction going on and some fencing in the square. You couldn't stand directly under the centre and look up. But nothing stopped the large groups of people who were happy to be so near to this amazing structure.
We sat on the grass amongst many other people looking at the Eiffel Tower. It's hard to believe that the tower was very unpopular when it first appeared on the Paris landscape in 1889, and many people didn't think it fit into the Paris architecture.
Tonight however, lots of people enjoyed the warm summer evening while sitting on the grass (or the Champs de Mar) in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower. In the evening, the tower lit up around ten pm, and within minutes all the lights began to twinkle. When this happened the crowd of people relaxing on the grassy area gave a delightful cheer. People jumped up and began snapping photos and then sat back down to resume their picnics. When we decided to leave, there were still lots of people savouring the sight of this world famous structure...
Today we went across a tiny street to a patisserie - boulanger called Cafe Salon de The (pronounced "Tay"). Alex - the person who rented this apartment to us, advised that the baker at this patisserie was "starting to get better," as apparently there had been some complaints. We ordered two coffees and two flakey, buttery pastries filled with warm puréed apple, which were delectable. No complaints from us.
From there we walked over to the market on Boulevard St. Germain to see if there was anything new. There was the usual lovely fruits and vegetables, piles of different types of olives, sausages, cheeses and other things like scarves, jewellery and clothing.
From there we wandered over to the Fountaine Saint-Michel in Place Saint-Michel in the 5th arrondissement. (I should mention that the city of Paris is divided into twenty arrondissements, or districts). It is a very large monument of the Archangel Michael treading on a dragon, carrying a banner and sword. There are two dragons on the lower level, each spewing water from their mouths. While we were standing and looking at the monument, a gold ring dropped on the ground in front of us. The person then picked it up and asked me if the ring belonged to me. I said, "No", and then he offered to sell it to me. I waved him off, finding it hard to believe that anyone could fall for this silly scam.
From there we walked over to L'Eglise St. Sulpice on Place St. Sulpice to see another historic cathedral in which construction began in 1646. Apparently the Marquis de Sade was christened in this church, but if you know anything about him, you know that he grew up into a nasty, depraved individual. On a more interesting note, Victor Hugo was married here. Apparently the organ in this church is one of the world's largest, with 6,588 pipes. As well, everyone knows that St. Sulpice played an important role in the book, "The Da Vinci Code". I think I might re-read this when I get home. One very spectacular thing I should mention, is that you could watch a video in the church, of people being baptized in water. The water came pouring over their heads in slow motion, splashing down their faces. It was absolutely stunning to watch. (There is even a website for this called Baptism@benjaminb.com.)
We left St. Sulpice and stopped at the very old cafe of Les Deux Magots (which means "two figurines from China"), in the Saint-Germain-des-Pres area in the 6th arrondissement. It's famous, because at one time it was a rendezvous area for the literary and intellectuals of the city. (Ernest Hemingway, Pablo Picasso, James Joyce and others). The cafe once belonged to a fabric and novelty shop on the same site, that turned into a cafe. If you go in the doors of the cafe, and don't mind feeling a twinge of embarrassment for a few moments, you can get a photograph of two large magot (Chinese salesman) statues who keep watch over all the people who might be sitting around and philosophizing.
After this, we carried on and walked across the Pont Neuf Bridge which spans over the Seine. This brought us into the 1st arrondissement, just south of Rue Montorgueil. The Pont Neuf is the oldest bridge on which construction began in 1578. The reason we went over the Pont Neuf was to go to 'Le Chien qui Fume' (The Smoking Dog) Bistro for lunch, which dates to 1740. The address is 33, Rue du Pont Neuf, in case anyone is interested. Apparently a lot of the farmers who brought their fruits and vegetables to the old market of Les Halles from surrounding farms, would stay and eat in this Inn,(now a cafe. Eventually the area around the Inn evolved into a red light district, because Les Halles market never slept.
We were happy with our lunch there, and it was fun to see this beautiful, old bistro. If only walls could talk! I tried the parma tagliatelle and Ron had the salmon tagliatelle, and we both found the cafe interesting. There were lots of old pictures on the wall of the old Les Halles market.
I found out about The Smoking Dog bistro when I learned about the old market system of Paris called Les Halles. For 800 years this market was the centre of food distribution in Paris, and it was called, "The Belly of Paris" by Emile Zola. The market was a shelter for merchants who came from all over to sell their products. Vegetables were sold during the day, but it was at night that the fish and meat vendors went into full swing. Thousands of tons of meat were bought, butchered, traded and sold. This market was also a meeting place for the citizens of Paris. Naughty things also took place at the market, where prostitutes found favour with many of the robust butchers and meat carriers. To the north of the market was rue Saint Denis known for its "slimmer prostitutes".
There was a Parisian photographer named Robert Doisneau who captured Les Halles as it was, in some of his famous photographs. Last spring,there was a display of his many of his famous photographs. (I nearly cried myself to sleep when I discovered this).
Sadly, the success of Les Halles was its own undoing. The traffic started to become a serious problem, and the site was destroyed in 1971. Now, there is an underground mall there, and a lot of building and construction taking place over the old market site. The market was re-located to the suburb of Rungis, which I didn't find myself that interested in.
It was said that when the food market was moved out of Les Halles, Paris was eviscerated. How I wish I could have seen this glorious market!
After walking around the area in stifling heat and humidity, we headed back to the cool apartment for a break.
We sat around for awhile looking out the apartment windows and listening to life out on the streets. After sharing a baguette and cheese and some fruit in the late afternoon, we headed out on the metro in the direction of the Eiffel Tower. We got off at the Trocadero stop and walked to Trocadero Square. We sat on a stone ledge where there was an excellent view of the fountain canons shooting out water. Just beyond the fountains, the Eiffel Tower could be clearly seen.
When we got to the tower, we could see there was construction going on and some fencing in the square. You couldn't stand directly under the centre and look up. But nothing stopped the large groups of people who were happy to be so near to this amazing structure.
We sat on the grass amongst many other people looking at the Eiffel Tower. It's hard to believe that the tower was very unpopular when it first appeared on the Paris landscape in 1889, and many people didn't think it fit into the Paris architecture.
Tonight however, lots of people enjoyed the warm summer evening while sitting on the grass (or the Champs de Mar) in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower. In the evening, the tower lit up around ten pm, and within minutes all the lights began to twinkle. When this happened the crowd of people relaxing on the grassy area gave a delightful cheer. People jumped up and began snapping photos and then sat back down to resume their picnics. When we decided to leave, there were still lots of people savouring the sight of this world famous structure...
Monday 17 June 2013
Ernest Hemingway, Luxembourg Gardens, and The Pantheon
Bonjour Everyone!
This morning when I woke up, I remembered I had just been having a strange dream. In the dream, all of my immediate family was in a room together, and everyone was being critical about President Obama. Sitting to my left, was Wolf Blitzer, all composed in a nice suit, and wearing the usual flat expression. I reminded everyone that Wolf Blitzer from CNN was here, and perhaps we should keep it down about President Obama. Suddenly Wolf (we're on first name basis now, since I dreampt about him) got up, came over and sat down beside me. He began showing me a big book filled with pages of writing. I have no idea what this dream was about. Once I shook myself out of my nightmare,I remembered I was in Paris...and I'm in my favourite place in the world.
When we looked out our windows we were surprised it was cloudy. The forecast yesterday had said 29 degrees. It started sprinkling and we went to a cafe down the street called La Grange. It looked so inviting because there were red tables, with red matching chairs, and anyone who has ever had red in their life, knows what a warm, and welcoming colour red is. We ordered our usual, and while we were sitting there, it started to pour. Soon there was lightening and such a loud clap of thunder right over us, that we thought the cafe might be split in half. The rain was coming down so hard, it was like a waterfall over the sides of the tarp which was above our heads. We had no choice but to sit and watch people scurry by with umbrellas. You can tolerate weather like this in a place like Paris, especially if you know you still have lots of time to embrace yet more of its treasures.
When the rain turned to a light sprinkle, we walked back to our apartment to spread out the map and determine our plan for the day. I looked out the window and saw some unfortunate tourists standing on a corner with shopping bags on their heads and wet maps in their hands. You could tell by their posture, they just couldn't believe it was raining in Paris. You just have to wait it out or at least wait until it's manageable enough to walk in.
When the downpour changed to a light sprinkle, we decided it was now manageable, so we started walking towards Rue De la Descartes which we knew would change to Rue Mouffetard. The reason for this was to to see a bit of the Ernest Hemingway walk of Paris. Unfortunately, the sky turned dark all over again and it had a strange appearance - almost like it was now evening. We knew we had to find refuge right away, and this time it was in a cafe called La Methode on 2, Rue Descartes. Again, we had to wait out another debilitating downpour which took around half an hour.
The first thing that ever attracted me to even reading anything written by Ernest Hemingway, was the following quote he wrote in his book, "A Moveable Feast", which was about his life in Paris in the twenties. "If you are lucky enough to have lived in Paris as a young man, then wherever you go for the rest of your life, it stays with you, for Paris is a Moveable Feast". How true...
We walked to the place where Ernest Hemingway and Hadley Richardson had shared their first apartment in Paris on the 4th floor of Rue Du Cardinal Lemoine at No. 74. In the book, Moveable Feast, Hemingway says this, "All of the sadness of the city suddenly came with the first cold rains of winter and there were no more tops to the high white houses as you walked, but only the wet blackness of the street and the closed doors of the small shops, the herb sellers, the stationary and newspaper shops, the midwife - second class - and the hotel where Verlaine had died where I had a room on the top floor, where I worked".
After our long walk, we decided to stop for lunch at Asie Prestige on Rue Mouffetard for Asian food which included French sounding names like brochette de poulet, crevette, salad thailandaise, and poulet croustillant. (Chicken on a stick, shrimp, a Thai salad, and more chicken in a sauce, and some rice). It was all okay, but why do you want Thai food when you are in Paris?
After our nice lunch, we walked to one of the famous cafes of Paris called La Closerie des Lilas. It is now an extravagant restaurant. I felt a little silly asking to see the place where Ernest Hemingway used to sit to do a lot of his writing. A nice lady in a black suit took me to the place. "Voila Madame". I saw a small gold plaque embedded in the surface of the counter at the bar and the stools all along the counter. I said "Merci Beaucoup!" and walked by the elegant lady in the black suit out the door.
And the last thing we did with regard to Ernest Hemingway was to walk down Rue Notre-Dame Des Champs where he and Hadley had also lived in a shabby apartment at No. 113. Then, it was a carpenter's loft over a working sawmill. Across the street, was a Boulanger-Patissiere called Les Bles d'Ange. If you walked across the street from No. 113, you could go up the stairway and cut through the Patisserie. You could stop to buy a piece of the richest custard flan, and then carry it out to a bench on Boulevard Du Montparnasse at which point you would sit down to enjoy it - which is just what we did.
We walked further to the home of Gertrude Stein at 27 Rue De le Fleurus, near the Luxembourg Gardens. Gertrude had quite an influence on Ernest Hemingway. For over 40 years, her home became a renowned Saturday evening gathering place for expatriate American artists and writers, and others. She gathered an an amazing collection of art from Renoir, Cezanne, Picasso, and Gaughin. She was a mentor and a critic to those who gathered around her, and quite an interesting person if anyone ever wanted to read about her life.
After our little tour, we stopped at a cafe called Bread & Roses on 7, rue de Fleurus for rosé wine, and to discuss everything that we had seen.
Getting tired by now, we took a shortcut through the Jardin du Luxembourg (Luxembourg Gardens), past Luxembourg Palace (I know...can you imagine taking a short cut past a Palace?) Actually this Palace really isn't a Palace anymore - it now houses the French Senate.
I should mention that by this time, the heat was stifling, and it had become quite humid. We sat down on a bench to cool off a bit, and a young woman walked by pushing a stroller. Her T-shirt sparkled with the words, "Believe, Forgive, Love, Unite".
After seeing this inspirational message, I confided to Ron a few things that were troubling me. He responded in his usual problem-solving manner. "Oh it's all right, don't you think?" I replied that I guessed it was if you took the Ron Parker way of looking at life. "What do you mean?", he said, to which I responded, "Never go below half an inch from the surface." Ron replied, "That's right! The SHALLOW shall survive!" You know, I thought to myself - it might be true!
After an inspiring rest on the bench, we decided to drop by the Pantheon on the way to the apartment. It was interesting if you feel like seeing the tombs of lots of famous people including Marie Currie, Victor Hugo, Emile Zola, Voltaire - and the Schcelchers whoever they are.
After the Pantheon, we came back to our apartment for a break. Ron crashed for awhile. I think he's feeling tired of navigating these days. Yesterday, when I turned the wrong way to go somewhere, he told me (in a kind way) that my sense of direction was "Hideous!" No wonder I have a complex about my map reading skills.
After Ron woke up and was re-oriented, we walked to Cafe Le Petit Cluny on Blvd. St. Michel. We tried the French onion soup and after strolled in the cool evening air past Eglise Saint-Severin (Church of Saint-Severin). The sky was dark again with gray clouds. It started to drizzle, but we popped open our umbrellas and reminded ourselves of where we were....
This morning when I woke up, I remembered I had just been having a strange dream. In the dream, all of my immediate family was in a room together, and everyone was being critical about President Obama. Sitting to my left, was Wolf Blitzer, all composed in a nice suit, and wearing the usual flat expression. I reminded everyone that Wolf Blitzer from CNN was here, and perhaps we should keep it down about President Obama. Suddenly Wolf (we're on first name basis now, since I dreampt about him) got up, came over and sat down beside me. He began showing me a big book filled with pages of writing. I have no idea what this dream was about. Once I shook myself out of my nightmare,I remembered I was in Paris...and I'm in my favourite place in the world.
When we looked out our windows we were surprised it was cloudy. The forecast yesterday had said 29 degrees. It started sprinkling and we went to a cafe down the street called La Grange. It looked so inviting because there were red tables, with red matching chairs, and anyone who has ever had red in their life, knows what a warm, and welcoming colour red is. We ordered our usual, and while we were sitting there, it started to pour. Soon there was lightening and such a loud clap of thunder right over us, that we thought the cafe might be split in half. The rain was coming down so hard, it was like a waterfall over the sides of the tarp which was above our heads. We had no choice but to sit and watch people scurry by with umbrellas. You can tolerate weather like this in a place like Paris, especially if you know you still have lots of time to embrace yet more of its treasures.
When the rain turned to a light sprinkle, we walked back to our apartment to spread out the map and determine our plan for the day. I looked out the window and saw some unfortunate tourists standing on a corner with shopping bags on their heads and wet maps in their hands. You could tell by their posture, they just couldn't believe it was raining in Paris. You just have to wait it out or at least wait until it's manageable enough to walk in.
When the downpour changed to a light sprinkle, we decided it was now manageable, so we started walking towards Rue De la Descartes which we knew would change to Rue Mouffetard. The reason for this was to to see a bit of the Ernest Hemingway walk of Paris. Unfortunately, the sky turned dark all over again and it had a strange appearance - almost like it was now evening. We knew we had to find refuge right away, and this time it was in a cafe called La Methode on 2, Rue Descartes. Again, we had to wait out another debilitating downpour which took around half an hour.
The first thing that ever attracted me to even reading anything written by Ernest Hemingway, was the following quote he wrote in his book, "A Moveable Feast", which was about his life in Paris in the twenties. "If you are lucky enough to have lived in Paris as a young man, then wherever you go for the rest of your life, it stays with you, for Paris is a Moveable Feast". How true...
We walked to the place where Ernest Hemingway and Hadley Richardson had shared their first apartment in Paris on the 4th floor of Rue Du Cardinal Lemoine at No. 74. In the book, Moveable Feast, Hemingway says this, "All of the sadness of the city suddenly came with the first cold rains of winter and there were no more tops to the high white houses as you walked, but only the wet blackness of the street and the closed doors of the small shops, the herb sellers, the stationary and newspaper shops, the midwife - second class - and the hotel where Verlaine had died where I had a room on the top floor, where I worked".
After our long walk, we decided to stop for lunch at Asie Prestige on Rue Mouffetard for Asian food which included French sounding names like brochette de poulet, crevette, salad thailandaise, and poulet croustillant. (Chicken on a stick, shrimp, a Thai salad, and more chicken in a sauce, and some rice). It was all okay, but why do you want Thai food when you are in Paris?
After our nice lunch, we walked to one of the famous cafes of Paris called La Closerie des Lilas. It is now an extravagant restaurant. I felt a little silly asking to see the place where Ernest Hemingway used to sit to do a lot of his writing. A nice lady in a black suit took me to the place. "Voila Madame". I saw a small gold plaque embedded in the surface of the counter at the bar and the stools all along the counter. I said "Merci Beaucoup!" and walked by the elegant lady in the black suit out the door.
And the last thing we did with regard to Ernest Hemingway was to walk down Rue Notre-Dame Des Champs where he and Hadley had also lived in a shabby apartment at No. 113. Then, it was a carpenter's loft over a working sawmill. Across the street, was a Boulanger-Patissiere called Les Bles d'Ange. If you walked across the street from No. 113, you could go up the stairway and cut through the Patisserie. You could stop to buy a piece of the richest custard flan, and then carry it out to a bench on Boulevard Du Montparnasse at which point you would sit down to enjoy it - which is just what we did.
We walked further to the home of Gertrude Stein at 27 Rue De le Fleurus, near the Luxembourg Gardens. Gertrude had quite an influence on Ernest Hemingway. For over 40 years, her home became a renowned Saturday evening gathering place for expatriate American artists and writers, and others. She gathered an an amazing collection of art from Renoir, Cezanne, Picasso, and Gaughin. She was a mentor and a critic to those who gathered around her, and quite an interesting person if anyone ever wanted to read about her life.
After our little tour, we stopped at a cafe called Bread & Roses on 7, rue de Fleurus for rosé wine, and to discuss everything that we had seen.
Getting tired by now, we took a shortcut through the Jardin du Luxembourg (Luxembourg Gardens), past Luxembourg Palace (I know...can you imagine taking a short cut past a Palace?) Actually this Palace really isn't a Palace anymore - it now houses the French Senate.
I should mention that by this time, the heat was stifling, and it had become quite humid. We sat down on a bench to cool off a bit, and a young woman walked by pushing a stroller. Her T-shirt sparkled with the words, "Believe, Forgive, Love, Unite".
After seeing this inspirational message, I confided to Ron a few things that were troubling me. He responded in his usual problem-solving manner. "Oh it's all right, don't you think?" I replied that I guessed it was if you took the Ron Parker way of looking at life. "What do you mean?", he said, to which I responded, "Never go below half an inch from the surface." Ron replied, "That's right! The SHALLOW shall survive!" You know, I thought to myself - it might be true!
After an inspiring rest on the bench, we decided to drop by the Pantheon on the way to the apartment. It was interesting if you feel like seeing the tombs of lots of famous people including Marie Currie, Victor Hugo, Emile Zola, Voltaire - and the Schcelchers whoever they are.
After the Pantheon, we came back to our apartment for a break. Ron crashed for awhile. I think he's feeling tired of navigating these days. Yesterday, when I turned the wrong way to go somewhere, he told me (in a kind way) that my sense of direction was "Hideous!" No wonder I have a complex about my map reading skills.
After Ron woke up and was re-oriented, we walked to Cafe Le Petit Cluny on Blvd. St. Michel. We tried the French onion soup and after strolled in the cool evening air past Eglise Saint-Severin (Church of Saint-Severin). The sky was dark again with gray clouds. It started to drizzle, but we popped open our umbrellas and reminded ourselves of where we were....
Sunday 16 June 2013
Paris
Bonjour Everyone!
Today we got up a little earlier than usual to pack our suitcases and tidy up the apartment. We wanted to have enough time to walk to Au Fourmil de Baptiste Artisan Boulanger for deux cafe au lait et deux croissants. We arrived early enough to see all the beautiful artisan breads coming out of the ovens and being stacked in baskets along the wall. We sat at a table on the terrace and stared out at the rolling hills which were so green and lush. I noticed the jasmine still flowering in big pots, as well as huge clumps of lavender just on the verge of blooming. Pink roses in striking blooms, climbed up a trellis.
We watched a man with lots of gray hair tied in a pony tail walk across the parking lot trying to control his big dog on a leash, but holding onto a precious crusty, baguette with the other hand. It's very true that you will often see a French person walking purposefully with a baguette in one hand.
One thing you won't see? People driving through dreary parking lots to get to a window and order coffee. So we left Valbonne and drove to the Nice airport, where we returned our car to the rental agency. We checked our baggage and waited to go through security. As we sat waiting, we noticed a couple soldiers in military uniforms strolling slowly through the airport looking right and left. We noticed the AK47's they held, with hands obviously posed for action.
We finally boarded and I watched out the window as the plane climbed, and it tilted so you could easily see the beautiful Mediterranean, as well as boats and yachts which gradually became like tiny dots. Soon we were above the clouds and then I could see the snow capped French Alps. A bientot (so long) to the breathtaking beauty of the Côte d'Azur...
We reached the Orly Airport in Paris at 2:20 pm and took a shuttle to our apartment, as we did not want to change trains three times, especially dragging large suitcases behind. We met Alex at the apartment at 4:30 pm. He showed us all around. The apartment is in the 5th Arrondissement on the 4th floor of an old building (early 1700's. It is beautiful, rustic and has old antiques in it. The location is perfect - in the Latin Quarter which is the best for seeing the great sights of Paris.
After getting settled in our apartment, we walked down Boulevard St. Germain, turned right on Rue Des Carmes and stopped at Les Delices du Fournil, which is right down the street from a cute, little hotel called Hotel St. Jacques. We ordered one eggplant tartinette and one chicken tartinette and then sat on some steps eating our street food, wondering how to make the best use of our time for the next few hours. Sometimes you find yourself being caught in a bit of a dilemma in places like Paris where lunch is served from around 12:30 to 2:30pm. Dinner is served after 7:30 pm in the evening so you just have to learn to adjust your schedule around this.
It was a beautiful, warm evening so we walked over the bridge and stopped to look down at the Seine River on our way to the Notre Dame de Paris which is French for 'Our Lady of Paris". The Notre Dame is one of the largest and most well known church buildings in the world, with construction having started around 1160 AD. We walked into the cathedral and could hear the most beautiful female voice singing during a church service, which was taking place on this Sunday evening. There was a choir also. It was absolutely beautiful.
It is amazing to think that Mary Queen of Scots was married to the Dauphin here in 1558. The coronation of Napoleon took place in this cathedral in 1804. These are only two events in the amazing history of this cathedral.
Of course you can actually climb over 700 steps to the bell tower of Notre Dame if you'd like to go up and get a very close look at the massive gargoyles. We did this once about 5 years ago, and it was well worth the gruelling climb up.
Since the Memorial Des Martyrs De la Deportation, Ile St Louis is quite close to the cathedral, we walked over there. There is a monument inaugurated on April 12, 1962 by General De Gaulle, President of the French Republic, as a place of contemplation and remembrance of the suffering caused by the deportation of Jews from France. Although I have been in this area, I had never walked over to actually view this monument.
It was such a beautiful, warm evening, and we sat on a bench very near the Seine and listened to some very traditional 'Paris Cafe' music which was being played on an accordion just around the corner. This music filled the air all around, and you could tell people were enjoying listening to such a skilled musician. It all adds to the beauty of this city.
After listening to the music for awhile, we walked over the Pont de L'Archeveche, back into the Latin corner. Whenever you find yourself on a bridge in Paris, you should always take time to pause and look at the Seine. This bridge is interesting as it has thousands of locks attached to the metal railings over the whole expanse of the bridge. These locks have been signed by people as a token of their shared love.
We decided to stop at Le Village Ronsard, on Blvd. St. Germain. This is a cafe right on a corner. The location is really what attracts you. I had an excellent salad there called Poulet - gourmet salad of tomato, corn, chicken, green beans, hard boiled egg, and potatoes. Ron had Magnet De Canard (duck) in a very strong ginger sauce, which he didn't care for. The rose wine was perfect, and I think I can actually taste a bit of rose petal (even though rose petals have nothing to do with rose wine).
So we returned to the apartment after celebrating our first evening in Paris. You feel excited because there is so much to do and see here...and even if you didn't want to 'do and see' you can just walk along the Seine River, taking in sights like the Eiffel Tower...
Today we got up a little earlier than usual to pack our suitcases and tidy up the apartment. We wanted to have enough time to walk to Au Fourmil de Baptiste Artisan Boulanger for deux cafe au lait et deux croissants. We arrived early enough to see all the beautiful artisan breads coming out of the ovens and being stacked in baskets along the wall. We sat at a table on the terrace and stared out at the rolling hills which were so green and lush. I noticed the jasmine still flowering in big pots, as well as huge clumps of lavender just on the verge of blooming. Pink roses in striking blooms, climbed up a trellis.
We watched a man with lots of gray hair tied in a pony tail walk across the parking lot trying to control his big dog on a leash, but holding onto a precious crusty, baguette with the other hand. It's very true that you will often see a French person walking purposefully with a baguette in one hand.
One thing you won't see? People driving through dreary parking lots to get to a window and order coffee. So we left Valbonne and drove to the Nice airport, where we returned our car to the rental agency. We checked our baggage and waited to go through security. As we sat waiting, we noticed a couple soldiers in military uniforms strolling slowly through the airport looking right and left. We noticed the AK47's they held, with hands obviously posed for action.
We finally boarded and I watched out the window as the plane climbed, and it tilted so you could easily see the beautiful Mediterranean, as well as boats and yachts which gradually became like tiny dots. Soon we were above the clouds and then I could see the snow capped French Alps. A bientot (so long) to the breathtaking beauty of the Côte d'Azur...
We reached the Orly Airport in Paris at 2:20 pm and took a shuttle to our apartment, as we did not want to change trains three times, especially dragging large suitcases behind. We met Alex at the apartment at 4:30 pm. He showed us all around. The apartment is in the 5th Arrondissement on the 4th floor of an old building (early 1700's. It is beautiful, rustic and has old antiques in it. The location is perfect - in the Latin Quarter which is the best for seeing the great sights of Paris.
After getting settled in our apartment, we walked down Boulevard St. Germain, turned right on Rue Des Carmes and stopped at Les Delices du Fournil, which is right down the street from a cute, little hotel called Hotel St. Jacques. We ordered one eggplant tartinette and one chicken tartinette and then sat on some steps eating our street food, wondering how to make the best use of our time for the next few hours. Sometimes you find yourself being caught in a bit of a dilemma in places like Paris where lunch is served from around 12:30 to 2:30pm. Dinner is served after 7:30 pm in the evening so you just have to learn to adjust your schedule around this.
It was a beautiful, warm evening so we walked over the bridge and stopped to look down at the Seine River on our way to the Notre Dame de Paris which is French for 'Our Lady of Paris". The Notre Dame is one of the largest and most well known church buildings in the world, with construction having started around 1160 AD. We walked into the cathedral and could hear the most beautiful female voice singing during a church service, which was taking place on this Sunday evening. There was a choir also. It was absolutely beautiful.
It is amazing to think that Mary Queen of Scots was married to the Dauphin here in 1558. The coronation of Napoleon took place in this cathedral in 1804. These are only two events in the amazing history of this cathedral.
Of course you can actually climb over 700 steps to the bell tower of Notre Dame if you'd like to go up and get a very close look at the massive gargoyles. We did this once about 5 years ago, and it was well worth the gruelling climb up.
Since the Memorial Des Martyrs De la Deportation, Ile St Louis is quite close to the cathedral, we walked over there. There is a monument inaugurated on April 12, 1962 by General De Gaulle, President of the French Republic, as a place of contemplation and remembrance of the suffering caused by the deportation of Jews from France. Although I have been in this area, I had never walked over to actually view this monument.
It was such a beautiful, warm evening, and we sat on a bench very near the Seine and listened to some very traditional 'Paris Cafe' music which was being played on an accordion just around the corner. This music filled the air all around, and you could tell people were enjoying listening to such a skilled musician. It all adds to the beauty of this city.
After listening to the music for awhile, we walked over the Pont de L'Archeveche, back into the Latin corner. Whenever you find yourself on a bridge in Paris, you should always take time to pause and look at the Seine. This bridge is interesting as it has thousands of locks attached to the metal railings over the whole expanse of the bridge. These locks have been signed by people as a token of their shared love.
We decided to stop at Le Village Ronsard, on Blvd. St. Germain. This is a cafe right on a corner. The location is really what attracts you. I had an excellent salad there called Poulet - gourmet salad of tomato, corn, chicken, green beans, hard boiled egg, and potatoes. Ron had Magnet De Canard (duck) in a very strong ginger sauce, which he didn't care for. The rose wine was perfect, and I think I can actually taste a bit of rose petal (even though rose petals have nothing to do with rose wine).
So we returned to the apartment after celebrating our first evening in Paris. You feel excited because there is so much to do and see here...and even if you didn't want to 'do and see' you can just walk along the Seine River, taking in sights like the Eiffel Tower...
Saturday 15 June 2013
The Towns of Mougins, Grasse, Gourdon, and Vence
Bonjour Everyone!
This morning started out with coffee and flattened, but warm croissants at Sarl Les Armoiries Cafe in Place des Arcades right outside our apartment. The waitress was delightful, but she couldn't help it if the croissants weren't quite ready. The square is quiet in the morning except for the cafe staff bustling around setting up tables for the lunch crowd. Occasionally a small truck putters in to deliver supplies to the cafes, as well as drop off armloads of baguettes.
You kind of feel like running around banging on a pan of some sort, and politely calling out, "Bonjour everyone! Time to get up!" But alas, most of them are in deep slumber after the revelry the night before (when we were trying to sleep). As we look up we can see the shutters to the windows all tightly closed.
When our sad croissants were finished, we drove to the hilltop village of Mougins, which was not far from Valbonne. Mougins is a medieval village in a circular shape. We found it very interesting. There were lots of galleries, would-be artists and ateliers (workshops). We went to the MACM Musee D'Art Classique De Mougin. This museum has a large and diverse collection of antiquities from the Roman, Greek, and Egyptian world. It has the world's largest collection of ancient arms and armour. What I found so interesting about this museum, was that there were paintings, drawings, and sculptures by Picasso, Matisse, Dali, Cezanne, Rodin, Warhol, and others - but these works were interspersed amongst the antiquities.
Anyone who loved the movie 'The Gladiator', would be happy to know the silver, shining helmet used by the Spaniard in the movie, lies behind glass here at the MACM. You can see two autographs on it: one from Russell Crowe, and the other from Joaquin Phoenix.
At one point I looked over to see Ron busy taking a picture of a cross-eyed man with curly hair on the wall. I saw that the print was called 'A Bearded Man Crowned With Vine Leaves' by Pablo Picasso, in 1962. To each, his own...So we enjoyed our visit to this museum and when we left we walked along a street and happened to notice an exquisite, winding travertine (a form of limestone) bench with a large water fountain attached to the end of it. Inscribed into the travertine were the words 'Yes More Than Earth' and signed Carla Lavatelli. I had never heard of her, but now have started reading about her, and her fascinating life.
Just before leaving Mougin we went to the tourism office to ask where Pablo Picasso's home had been for the eight years while he had lived in Moulin. We were told that we could drive to the area, but would not be really able to see the home. We did just that, and behind a rusted out gate, could see the it hidden in a clump of trees. Everything appeared to be rather unkempt around the home, which did seem surprising. We drove off talking about the bizarre life of Pablo.
We decided to drive to Grasse. We had been to Grasse a few years ago, to the Musee International de la Parfumerie, but I don't remember paying much attention to the city. This time I was captivated by its lush beauty, and fascinating little streets which are so common to these ancient, cities and villages. The air felt humid, but not overpowering, and it was slightly hazy. Apparently the microclimate of Grasse is what enables thousands of delicate flowers to grow here. A few times when we mentioned going to Grasse, people would say,"Oh Grasse, there's nothing to see in Grasse - just the parfumeries!" Well, Grasse IS the perfume capital of the world. Suffice it to say, when you are in Grasse, you can't drive by Parfumerie Fragonard without stopping in.
Everytime I experience the magic of these hilltop villages and gorgeous places, I think the same thing...who couldn't be happy here for the rest of their days? Everything is so green, lush and healthy. There are massive palms, and giant agave plants growing here and there at the sides of the roads. I have noticed that the plants here don't look like they've been chewed up by some nasty insect. In fact, you hardly ever see bugs. I don't think they have them in the Côte d'Azur.
When we left Grasse, we continued on to another village called Gourdon. This was the narrowest road with hair-raising twists and turns. I kept hoping we could just make it to the top without bashing the mirrors off either side of the car on the way up. We climbed so high, my ears were popping. It was a bit hazy, and there was mist which billowed across the road. It seemed to take forever to reach the top. We drove through two tunnels from which water seeped and dripped on the car as we continued up. People highly recommended that we drive to Gourdon for the best views of the Riviera and the Mediterranean, but we were wondering if we had brain damage, because we obviously weren't going to have any view today, (if we ever did reach the top, that was.)
Well fortunately, we made it and decided to have lunch since we had burned so many calories from our terrorizing ride up. We stopped at a place called Auberge de Gourdon. We walked in and I was sure I was in the Alps where people might yodel and wear suede shorts. It felt like a Bavarian truck stop. However, everyone spoke French, so we knew we were still in France. A lady walked by our table with her dress on inside out. As we sat there we felt tired of having to maneuver the French menu, and even when the waitress explained it all in French, we still didn't understand. Therefore, I ended up with a Croquet Monsieur, which is basically a ham and grilled cheese sandwich. Ron recognized the word 'Italian' and ordered an Italian salad. No rose wine though, as we didn't want to fly over the cliff like Thelma and Louise on the way down.
After lunch, we walked out into the fog, and up the hill to the historic area where the castle was. Unfortunately, the castle is closed now, but used to have furniture from Versailles Palace, and works of art from Edgar Degas, and some sculptures. At one point, a little old man wanted us to come in and try his home-made nougat. We tried to tell him we didn't really want to, but went in anyway so as not to hurt his feelings. He gave us little bites to sample. We said, "Delicieux!" he said, "Okay, if you no buy, you leave now!" Well alright then...
So, we returned to the car and drove back down the hair raising turns a little sad that it was just too hazy to see the view that Gourdon is so famous for. You normally can see from Cannes to Nice and the Mediterranean and apparently, on a really clear day, you can see the island of Corsica.
Pretty soon we arrived in Vence, another medieval, walled village. We had fun walking around here again. It's a beautiful village and has a small cathedral called Notre Dame de la Nativite de Vence, which was built in the 4th century on the site of a Roman temple. There is a famous tiled mosaic on one wall by Marc Chagall called 'Moses Saved From The Waters' and is dated 1911. Marc Chagall, a Russian born artist, was known primarily for his paintings and stained glass. He died in 1985 in nearby Saint-Paul-de-Vence.
After touring the cathedral we walked through a square called Place Godeau, where two boys around age nine, sat at a small table engrossed in a game of chess. A little girl stood watching, with a skipping rope in one hand.
On our way out of Vence, we stopped at Le Troquet cafe on Place Du Grand Jard for Provençal rose wine. As well as the wine we also had cold, sparkling Perrier water. We didn't realize Vence was famous for its spring water until after we had finished our Perrier.
So we left Vence and started back to our apartment in Valbonne.
It was time to get back and start packing up because tomorrow, we return our trusty, little Renault car to the agency at the airport in Nice. We fly Air France to Paris, and look forward to new adventures in the City Of Light...
This morning started out with coffee and flattened, but warm croissants at Sarl Les Armoiries Cafe in Place des Arcades right outside our apartment. The waitress was delightful, but she couldn't help it if the croissants weren't quite ready. The square is quiet in the morning except for the cafe staff bustling around setting up tables for the lunch crowd. Occasionally a small truck putters in to deliver supplies to the cafes, as well as drop off armloads of baguettes.
You kind of feel like running around banging on a pan of some sort, and politely calling out, "Bonjour everyone! Time to get up!" But alas, most of them are in deep slumber after the revelry the night before (when we were trying to sleep). As we look up we can see the shutters to the windows all tightly closed.
When our sad croissants were finished, we drove to the hilltop village of Mougins, which was not far from Valbonne. Mougins is a medieval village in a circular shape. We found it very interesting. There were lots of galleries, would-be artists and ateliers (workshops). We went to the MACM Musee D'Art Classique De Mougin. This museum has a large and diverse collection of antiquities from the Roman, Greek, and Egyptian world. It has the world's largest collection of ancient arms and armour. What I found so interesting about this museum, was that there were paintings, drawings, and sculptures by Picasso, Matisse, Dali, Cezanne, Rodin, Warhol, and others - but these works were interspersed amongst the antiquities.
Anyone who loved the movie 'The Gladiator', would be happy to know the silver, shining helmet used by the Spaniard in the movie, lies behind glass here at the MACM. You can see two autographs on it: one from Russell Crowe, and the other from Joaquin Phoenix.
At one point I looked over to see Ron busy taking a picture of a cross-eyed man with curly hair on the wall. I saw that the print was called 'A Bearded Man Crowned With Vine Leaves' by Pablo Picasso, in 1962. To each, his own...So we enjoyed our visit to this museum and when we left we walked along a street and happened to notice an exquisite, winding travertine (a form of limestone) bench with a large water fountain attached to the end of it. Inscribed into the travertine were the words 'Yes More Than Earth' and signed Carla Lavatelli. I had never heard of her, but now have started reading about her, and her fascinating life.
Just before leaving Mougin we went to the tourism office to ask where Pablo Picasso's home had been for the eight years while he had lived in Moulin. We were told that we could drive to the area, but would not be really able to see the home. We did just that, and behind a rusted out gate, could see the it hidden in a clump of trees. Everything appeared to be rather unkempt around the home, which did seem surprising. We drove off talking about the bizarre life of Pablo.
We decided to drive to Grasse. We had been to Grasse a few years ago, to the Musee International de la Parfumerie, but I don't remember paying much attention to the city. This time I was captivated by its lush beauty, and fascinating little streets which are so common to these ancient, cities and villages. The air felt humid, but not overpowering, and it was slightly hazy. Apparently the microclimate of Grasse is what enables thousands of delicate flowers to grow here. A few times when we mentioned going to Grasse, people would say,"Oh Grasse, there's nothing to see in Grasse - just the parfumeries!" Well, Grasse IS the perfume capital of the world. Suffice it to say, when you are in Grasse, you can't drive by Parfumerie Fragonard without stopping in.
Everytime I experience the magic of these hilltop villages and gorgeous places, I think the same thing...who couldn't be happy here for the rest of their days? Everything is so green, lush and healthy. There are massive palms, and giant agave plants growing here and there at the sides of the roads. I have noticed that the plants here don't look like they've been chewed up by some nasty insect. In fact, you hardly ever see bugs. I don't think they have them in the Côte d'Azur.
When we left Grasse, we continued on to another village called Gourdon. This was the narrowest road with hair-raising twists and turns. I kept hoping we could just make it to the top without bashing the mirrors off either side of the car on the way up. We climbed so high, my ears were popping. It was a bit hazy, and there was mist which billowed across the road. It seemed to take forever to reach the top. We drove through two tunnels from which water seeped and dripped on the car as we continued up. People highly recommended that we drive to Gourdon for the best views of the Riviera and the Mediterranean, but we were wondering if we had brain damage, because we obviously weren't going to have any view today, (if we ever did reach the top, that was.)
Well fortunately, we made it and decided to have lunch since we had burned so many calories from our terrorizing ride up. We stopped at a place called Auberge de Gourdon. We walked in and I was sure I was in the Alps where people might yodel and wear suede shorts. It felt like a Bavarian truck stop. However, everyone spoke French, so we knew we were still in France. A lady walked by our table with her dress on inside out. As we sat there we felt tired of having to maneuver the French menu, and even when the waitress explained it all in French, we still didn't understand. Therefore, I ended up with a Croquet Monsieur, which is basically a ham and grilled cheese sandwich. Ron recognized the word 'Italian' and ordered an Italian salad. No rose wine though, as we didn't want to fly over the cliff like Thelma and Louise on the way down.
After lunch, we walked out into the fog, and up the hill to the historic area where the castle was. Unfortunately, the castle is closed now, but used to have furniture from Versailles Palace, and works of art from Edgar Degas, and some sculptures. At one point, a little old man wanted us to come in and try his home-made nougat. We tried to tell him we didn't really want to, but went in anyway so as not to hurt his feelings. He gave us little bites to sample. We said, "Delicieux!" he said, "Okay, if you no buy, you leave now!" Well alright then...
So, we returned to the car and drove back down the hair raising turns a little sad that it was just too hazy to see the view that Gourdon is so famous for. You normally can see from Cannes to Nice and the Mediterranean and apparently, on a really clear day, you can see the island of Corsica.
Pretty soon we arrived in Vence, another medieval, walled village. We had fun walking around here again. It's a beautiful village and has a small cathedral called Notre Dame de la Nativite de Vence, which was built in the 4th century on the site of a Roman temple. There is a famous tiled mosaic on one wall by Marc Chagall called 'Moses Saved From The Waters' and is dated 1911. Marc Chagall, a Russian born artist, was known primarily for his paintings and stained glass. He died in 1985 in nearby Saint-Paul-de-Vence.
After touring the cathedral we walked through a square called Place Godeau, where two boys around age nine, sat at a small table engrossed in a game of chess. A little girl stood watching, with a skipping rope in one hand.
On our way out of Vence, we stopped at Le Troquet cafe on Place Du Grand Jard for Provençal rose wine. As well as the wine we also had cold, sparkling Perrier water. We didn't realize Vence was famous for its spring water until after we had finished our Perrier.
So we left Vence and started back to our apartment in Valbonne.
It was time to get back and start packing up because tomorrow, we return our trusty, little Renault car to the agency at the airport in Nice. We fly Air France to Paris, and look forward to new adventures in the City Of Light...
Friday 14 June 2013
The Market at Valbonne and the Village of Plascassier
Bonjour Family and Friends!
Today we awoke to the sound of tables being dragged across the cobblestone outside our window, in preparation for the weekly market every Friday morning in Valbonne. You could hear voices calling out, and banging and clanging noises, and it all occurred just the way we were told it would. When we went downstairs to leave the building and go out to the street, we found many tables filled with vegetables of all kinds, lined up just outside our door, but at least we were able to exit without any difficulty.
Since we no longer had the luxury of Mireille's lovely breakfasts awaiting us on her sunny terrace, we walked across Place Des Arcades to Le Jdeed Cafe (it is a strange spelling), for our morning coffee and croissants.
We sat there for awhile observing the bustle all around us, and talking about how fascinating these markets are, and especially this one. Being such a large market, it was forced to wind its way through the narrow streets of Valbonne. As usual, there was everything - food and clothing, hand-crafted jewellery, underwear, kitchen supplies, fruits, vegetables, and even someone demonstrating the cutting up of zucchinis and carrots with a new, slick mandoline.
When we had exhausted every corner of the market, we decided to drive to the village of Plascassier, which is really a stones throw from Valbonne. We were going with a specific purpose, and that was to find the vacation home of Paul and Julia Child. Believe it or not, this provençal home can actually be rented - which I think is cool, and if you admire Julia Child like I do, then you might be interested in seeing the place where she wrote some of 'Mastering the Art of French Cooking', the two-volume masterpiece written while staying at La Pitchoune (which means 'The Little One'). This was the name of her home on the property at Domaine de Bramafam in the hills above Plascassier. Mastering The Art of French Cooking was one of the most popular and influential cookbooks ever published, and it introduced French cooking to millions of home cooks in America during the 1960s and ’70s.
After reading, 'My Life in France', the story of Julia Child, I knew the area was called Domaine de Bramafam, and also that it was located somewhere in the countryside, just outside the village of Plascassier. The problem is, if you are not renting it, the location just isn't out there for the tourist to find. I was sure that eventually we would find a local who might know something about Julia and where this vacation home may be located.
An interesting note is that the average French person knows nothing of Julia Child. They've never even heard of her. If you ask, "Excusez moi, do you know who Julia Child is?" The first thing they ask you to do is repeat the question. Then everyone gets the same quizzical look. They'll even go and inquire of their friends, and then everybody shakes their heads. "She was a chef, you say? We have our own chefs. Many chefs, many chefs here!" You just can't believe it! Julia Child unknown in France? But it's true...
We drove by a cute little restaurant in Plascassier called Auberge de Provence in Place St. Donat. We decided to have lunch first, before we went on our quest. We thoroughly enjoyed our lunch. We had the friendliest waiter named Patrick, who turned out to be the owner. He told us a few things about himself including the fact that he had been born in the Loire Valley, and had spent 12 years in Paris learning the restaurant business. It seems like at least half of an enjoyable experience of eating out, depends on who is waiting on your table. We could hear Patrick happily singing in the kitchen. I think he was waiter and chef. We tried the salad nicoise. I should add that most meals are paired with a glass of rosé wine from the Provençal region, unless otherwise stated. Ron wanted to try some foie gras, so he ordered it as an appetizer. Foie Gras is a food product made from the liver of a duck or goose that has been specially fattened. I must admit I only tasted it, but I was surprised it had a nutty flavour and I actually didn't mind it (of course you must be aware there are many people who are vigorously opposed to the force feeding of ducks and geese to fatten their livers up quickly).
Just before we left Auberge de ProvenceI restaurant, I decided to throw the question out there one more time. I asked Patrick, "Do you know who Julia Child is?" I waited anxiously. I was hoping that he might be the ONE whose eyes might light up at the recognition of her name. "Nooooo" he shook his head. I gave up, deflated. Then Ron asked, "Do you know of 'Domaine de Bramafam?" "Oh, oui, oui!" he exclaimed, and proceeded to tell us how to get to the right area at least.
Just after lunch, we walked around the tiny village of Plascassier. We loved how beautiful and rustic it was. It was peaceful and quiet, and there was a cool breeze. A big cat sat perched on a blue window sill, barely able to keep his eyes open. We came upon a little church called Notre Dame des Fleurs and went inside.
Then we got into the little Renault and started out on our drive down the Domaine de Bramafam road to try and guess which house had belonged to the Child's, based on clues mainly from the Internet. We stopped and asked a few people in this very district, and everyone did the same thing, they shook their heads, "Non!"
It seemed odd that the neighbours wouldn't know about a property in their own area which is rented as a vacation spot. But, it was okay...I had been able to come as close as anyone could without knowing the house number. Another interesting note is that the village of Plascassier was home to Edith Piaf, also known as 'The Little Sparrow'. She was one of France's greatest international singing stars from 1930 to 1963, when she died of liver cancer at age 49. Her fascinating life story is told in a movie called, "Le Vie En Rose". I would like to have seen her home also, but you just can't do everything...
So we left this most beautiful area of Plascassier and started towards the Parfumerie Fragonard in Grasse, but the traffic was so heavy, we turned around at the first opportunity and went back to the apartment. We decided perhaps I could visit Fragonard tomorrow in St. Paul de Vence.
When we arrived back at the apartment, Ron went across the square and down the next street to buy a baguette. He noticed there were quite a few varieties of baguettes while waiting in line. Finally his turn came, and rather than trying to speak French, he just resorted to "Parlez-vous anglais?". The shop lady immediately said, " Oui. A leetle." He asked what was the difference between the varieties of baguettes. Naturally this would require a detailed response, which probably made the person behind want to kick him. However, the lady proceeded to describe the difference in great detail, AND in French. She gave a demonstration by squeezing each of two baguettes. Ron was forced to stand and listen to a lengthy speech, since he had asked the question. Thankfully her explanation made things crystal clear, and Ron chose the darker baguette in her left hand. He then came back with our snack, and declared he had chosen the "traditionnel."
After spending a few hours in the apartment, listening to children playing and screaming as well as the dull roar of adult voices in the Place Des Arcades, we decided to go out and for a walk in the cool evening air. One thing you can always do here if you find yourself at loose ends? Go for a walk through the streets of a medieval village...
Today we awoke to the sound of tables being dragged across the cobblestone outside our window, in preparation for the weekly market every Friday morning in Valbonne. You could hear voices calling out, and banging and clanging noises, and it all occurred just the way we were told it would. When we went downstairs to leave the building and go out to the street, we found many tables filled with vegetables of all kinds, lined up just outside our door, but at least we were able to exit without any difficulty.
Since we no longer had the luxury of Mireille's lovely breakfasts awaiting us on her sunny terrace, we walked across Place Des Arcades to Le Jdeed Cafe (it is a strange spelling), for our morning coffee and croissants.
We sat there for awhile observing the bustle all around us, and talking about how fascinating these markets are, and especially this one. Being such a large market, it was forced to wind its way through the narrow streets of Valbonne. As usual, there was everything - food and clothing, hand-crafted jewellery, underwear, kitchen supplies, fruits, vegetables, and even someone demonstrating the cutting up of zucchinis and carrots with a new, slick mandoline.
When we had exhausted every corner of the market, we decided to drive to the village of Plascassier, which is really a stones throw from Valbonne. We were going with a specific purpose, and that was to find the vacation home of Paul and Julia Child. Believe it or not, this provençal home can actually be rented - which I think is cool, and if you admire Julia Child like I do, then you might be interested in seeing the place where she wrote some of 'Mastering the Art of French Cooking', the two-volume masterpiece written while staying at La Pitchoune (which means 'The Little One'). This was the name of her home on the property at Domaine de Bramafam in the hills above Plascassier. Mastering The Art of French Cooking was one of the most popular and influential cookbooks ever published, and it introduced French cooking to millions of home cooks in America during the 1960s and ’70s.
After reading, 'My Life in France', the story of Julia Child, I knew the area was called Domaine de Bramafam, and also that it was located somewhere in the countryside, just outside the village of Plascassier. The problem is, if you are not renting it, the location just isn't out there for the tourist to find. I was sure that eventually we would find a local who might know something about Julia and where this vacation home may be located.
An interesting note is that the average French person knows nothing of Julia Child. They've never even heard of her. If you ask, "Excusez moi, do you know who Julia Child is?" The first thing they ask you to do is repeat the question. Then everyone gets the same quizzical look. They'll even go and inquire of their friends, and then everybody shakes their heads. "She was a chef, you say? We have our own chefs. Many chefs, many chefs here!" You just can't believe it! Julia Child unknown in France? But it's true...
We drove by a cute little restaurant in Plascassier called Auberge de Provence in Place St. Donat. We decided to have lunch first, before we went on our quest. We thoroughly enjoyed our lunch. We had the friendliest waiter named Patrick, who turned out to be the owner. He told us a few things about himself including the fact that he had been born in the Loire Valley, and had spent 12 years in Paris learning the restaurant business. It seems like at least half of an enjoyable experience of eating out, depends on who is waiting on your table. We could hear Patrick happily singing in the kitchen. I think he was waiter and chef. We tried the salad nicoise. I should add that most meals are paired with a glass of rosé wine from the Provençal region, unless otherwise stated. Ron wanted to try some foie gras, so he ordered it as an appetizer. Foie Gras is a food product made from the liver of a duck or goose that has been specially fattened. I must admit I only tasted it, but I was surprised it had a nutty flavour and I actually didn't mind it (of course you must be aware there are many people who are vigorously opposed to the force feeding of ducks and geese to fatten their livers up quickly).
Just before we left Auberge de ProvenceI restaurant, I decided to throw the question out there one more time. I asked Patrick, "Do you know who Julia Child is?" I waited anxiously. I was hoping that he might be the ONE whose eyes might light up at the recognition of her name. "Nooooo" he shook his head. I gave up, deflated. Then Ron asked, "Do you know of 'Domaine de Bramafam?" "Oh, oui, oui!" he exclaimed, and proceeded to tell us how to get to the right area at least.
Just after lunch, we walked around the tiny village of Plascassier. We loved how beautiful and rustic it was. It was peaceful and quiet, and there was a cool breeze. A big cat sat perched on a blue window sill, barely able to keep his eyes open. We came upon a little church called Notre Dame des Fleurs and went inside.
Then we got into the little Renault and started out on our drive down the Domaine de Bramafam road to try and guess which house had belonged to the Child's, based on clues mainly from the Internet. We stopped and asked a few people in this very district, and everyone did the same thing, they shook their heads, "Non!"
It seemed odd that the neighbours wouldn't know about a property in their own area which is rented as a vacation spot. But, it was okay...I had been able to come as close as anyone could without knowing the house number. Another interesting note is that the village of Plascassier was home to Edith Piaf, also known as 'The Little Sparrow'. She was one of France's greatest international singing stars from 1930 to 1963, when she died of liver cancer at age 49. Her fascinating life story is told in a movie called, "Le Vie En Rose". I would like to have seen her home also, but you just can't do everything...
So we left this most beautiful area of Plascassier and started towards the Parfumerie Fragonard in Grasse, but the traffic was so heavy, we turned around at the first opportunity and went back to the apartment. We decided perhaps I could visit Fragonard tomorrow in St. Paul de Vence.
When we arrived back at the apartment, Ron went across the square and down the next street to buy a baguette. He noticed there were quite a few varieties of baguettes while waiting in line. Finally his turn came, and rather than trying to speak French, he just resorted to "Parlez-vous anglais?". The shop lady immediately said, " Oui. A leetle." He asked what was the difference between the varieties of baguettes. Naturally this would require a detailed response, which probably made the person behind want to kick him. However, the lady proceeded to describe the difference in great detail, AND in French. She gave a demonstration by squeezing each of two baguettes. Ron was forced to stand and listen to a lengthy speech, since he had asked the question. Thankfully her explanation made things crystal clear, and Ron chose the darker baguette in her left hand. He then came back with our snack, and declared he had chosen the "traditionnel."
After spending a few hours in the apartment, listening to children playing and screaming as well as the dull roar of adult voices in the Place Des Arcades, we decided to go out and for a walk in the cool evening air. One thing you can always do here if you find yourself at loose ends? Go for a walk through the streets of a medieval village...
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