Ten Things My Kids Say They Will Miss About Paris

I've asked my kids many times to reflect on their experiences and it's a little bit like pulling teeth. And now that school is out, while they're happy to read for pleasure, writing is not high on their list of priorities. I'm sure one day they'll look back on this experience and be amazed by their good fortune.  Perhaps, they'll even be moved to write about it.  But for the moment, when asked what they'll most miss about Paris, the best I could do is this.

1. Bread, bread, bread
2. The métro
3. Watching the searchlight of the Eiffel Tower reflected in the courtyard outside my bedroom window when I'm falling asleep
4. Going to movies on the Champs-Élysées
5. Salted butter and speculoos spread
6. Being able to walk everywhere
7. Shopping on rue de Passy
8. Pastries
9. Going out to eat at L'Entrecôte
10. My friends

Rough life, huh?

La Tour Eiffel

Because it's impossible to have too many pictures of the Eiffel Tower, right?  In any season, under any metereological conditions, at any time of day, from any angle or distance.





And to think that the Parisians wanted to tear it down after the universal exposition in 1889!  Nowadays, you can't say Paris without conjuring up an image of it.

Street Art

After all the sunny weather we had in April and May, it's not so easy to go back to the typical Parisian weather -- cool and gray being the order of the day, pretty much any time of year.  But after being cooped up in the house much of last week, I didn't care what the weather was when Friday rolled around.  My friend had promised to take me on a tour of street art and how could I say no to that?

Turns out that the tour was one prepared by Adam Roberts, whose blog, Invisible Paris, I always enjoy.  Adam's Paris rarely features fashion, chocolate or restaurant reviews. Thank goodness.  Instead, his focus is a mix of architecture, urban history, art, politics, and sociology.   This tour (which you can download for your smartphone at iTunes or in a .pdf if you're old school like me) wanders about the streets of Menilmontant and Belleville on the city's eastern edge.

But street art being what it is, some of it had disappeared since the last time my friend had done the walk. There were freshly painted walls in places, buildings demolished in others.  But there were also new works, and one series, featuring a lonely looking fellow on a ladder, particularly captured our attention. 

Every time we rounded a corner, there was another variation with moods varying from introspective to humorous to alienated.



At one point, we happened upon an entire wall populated with these figures.  Regrettably, I did not note the exact location.

None of these works were signed and certainly not explained.  So who is this mysterious artist and what does it all mean?  I shot an e-mail to Adam and very quickly he found the answer.  If you're as curious as me, you'll have to pop on over to his blog....the story continues here.

Thanks to Adam for his incredible responsiveness to my question.  And a thousand thanks to Karen for sharing the day with me.  Wherever you lead, I will follow.

The Bucket List Revisited

Back in September, I wrote about my Paris bucket list, the things I wanted to be sure to get done before leaving Paris.  And as we enter the home stretch, I figured it was time to take a look back and see just how I'm doing. 

It starts well enough:

Explore the neighborhood around the Canal St. Martin.

Go to the Musee Delacroix.

Go see a play at the Comédie-Française, but read it (in French) ahead of time.

Check out the hype about Spring. Technically, this shouldn't be crossed off but I have reservations for the 15th, so let's just consider it done.

Invest in one or two classic accessories or items of clothing that, while hopefully not screaming "Paris!", will be something I will cherish wearing for a long long time. I've got a chocolate brown suede jacket from Monoprix and a Hermes bangle (a going away present from friends) that I'm going to enjoy for many years. And what a combo!

Visit (and take non flash photos) of a favorite turn of the century lithograph at the Musee d'Orsay. I've been to the Musee d'Orsay twice this year. At the moment, the place is under massive renovation with many galleries closed and works of art rearranged. And the one piece I was most interested in? It's in storage until the end of July.

And then things go a bit south:

Eat lunch at Frenchie. Frenchie has become so successful that they don't even serve lunch anymore. As for getting a dinner reservation at this point, I can just forget it. Do I care? Not really. I've eaten quite enough recently!

Attend a ballet at the Palais Garnier. FAIL. It's next to impossible to get ballet tickets. I should have tried to get tickets for May back in September. At least I've been inside the Opera House and seen that lovely Chagall ceiling.

Take the candlelight tour of Vaux le Vicomte. This one requires a car and with the number of weekends left until we depart, I don't think it's going to happen. But how many chateaux have I visited in four years? I can't even begin to count them all.

Go to a concert at Sainte Chapelle. This could theoretically still happen. What's more, this is the perfect time of year since the concerts are held in the evening and it's still light now until almost 10 o'clock and one could appreciate the light coming through those amazing stained glass windows while appreciating the music.


And the bottom line?

Although I only managed to check off six out of ten items on this list, what strikes me is not what's left undone but a sense that the list itself is irrelevant.  First of all, completing the list wouldn't make it any easier to cut the cord with Paris.  If I had done them all, could I honestly say, " I did it.  My Paris experience is complete."  That question gets a big fat "no" for an answer.  And secondly, it's not as if I didn't get around to doing these things because I was sitting on the couch watching TV.  I feel good about how I've used my time and the experiences I've had.

Am I rationalizing?  Probably.  Does it matter? Not a bit.

Point Zero

If you look closely, you can barely discern the carving on this compass rose that says "point zero."   Stand on this spot in front of Notre Dame and you will be in the official center of the city of Paris, the point from which all distances to and from Paris on national highways are measured.  Forget that this spot no longer (if it ever did) actually marked the midpoint of population dispersion or the city's physical space.  It's all about the symbolic importance of the spot.   But here's a handy tip.  Street numbers in Paris use this as a reference point.  That is, a small number will be closer to this point than a high number, and that's true for both north/south and east/west axes.   After that, however, all bets are off.

Forêt de Fontainebleau

Last week I had the good fortune to spend a day on a long walk in and around the forest of Fontainebleau.  This is one of the things I love about Paris (and also about my good friend who organizes all these great outings so all I have to do is show up and follow her.)  You get on the train at Gare de Lyon and 30 minutes later you are at the Fontainebleau/Avon station.  You walk through town for a couple of blocks, enter the park, and that's when the magic begins. 

You stroll down a shady lane.  If you want to take a picture and you're not at the head of the line, it's good form to snap the photo in the opposite direction.  Your friends don't appreciate your publishing pictures of their back sides.

You come out of the alley, cross the road, and walk up a little rise.........

And this magnificence is staring you in the face.

There's no time today for a visit inside.  But that's okay because you've been there before, actually twice.

You take a stroll around the little lake.

When you've walked past the military school and crossed a busy highway, the forest is waiting for you.  Maybe there will be a few rock climbers, but probably not since it's the middle of the week.

The ferns are amazingly tall.

And the trail markers couldn't be more apt.



Mistaken for a Memorial

I haven't been paying much attention to world news this week but I understand that the television networks are in their "All Royal Wedding All the Time" mode.  And what a great story just out of a fairy tale: handsome prince marries beautiful and accomplished commoner while the world looks on approvingly.  There is a stepmother (although I don't think I'd call her wicked) and a sad, sort of pitiful father who has been sitting around his whole life waiting to become king.

And then there's Princess Diana, never aging, perhaps even more glamorous in death than in life. (In fact, can you imagine her in a mother of the groom dress?) This monument, a replica of the flame on the Statue of Liberty's torch, was given to the city of Paris on the 100th anniversary of publication of the International Herald Tribune in 1989.  But since Princess Diana's 1997 death in a car crash in a tunnel beneath the site (at the intersection of the avenue de New York and the place de l'Alma in the 8th)  it's become an unofficial memorial to her.  When I passed by earlier this week, there were the usual  bouquets, messages of remembrance, and photos, the son the mirror of his mother.  Congratulations on your big day, William.  May you have a long and happy marriage.  And rest in peace Diana.  It seems that he turned out pretty well despite all the drama.

War is Hell

The same day I visited the American Cemetery in Suresnes, I also stopped literally just around the corner at Mont Valérien, once a destination for religious pilgrims but more infamously during World War II, the site of numerous executions of French resisters by German forces.  There are several components of this site, not all of which were open the day of my visit.  The pictures below are from the principal monument, inaugurated in 1960, which honors those who died for France between 1939 and 1945.  Fifteen bodies were  placed in the crypt which was subsequently reopened to receive the ashes of some who died in Indochina and other victims of war.

The contrast with the lush green peace of the American site just down the hill is stark.  All stone and metal and no greenery to soften up the edges.  The best word to describe it is brutal.

What the above photo doesn't show very well are the 16 bronze reliefs by different sculptors depicting either specific battles or different aspects of the war.  Saumur (below) describes the fall of soldiers in that town in June 1940 under horrific conditions.  No romanticization of war here.

Sadly, despite this inscription, the eternal flame was not burning.

The site is always open but you should probably check the Web site before you go if you want to see all aspects of the memorial, some of which are only open limited hours.  Like the American Cemetery, the site is accessible by the Transilien commuter train from La Defense and the T2 tramway.

Victor Hugo

As an American, I knew Victor Hugo as the author of Les Miserables, hard to escape if you ever turned on public television during the 1990s.  And though this epic, set during the revolution of 1832, along with The Hunchback of Notre Dame, is probably his best known work even in France, to the French, he is much much more.  Poet, politician, human rights activist, visual artist, and force behind the restoration of Notre Dame, he was honored in his lifetime and also in death with a parade of 2 million accompanying his body to its resting place in the Pantheon.

You can visit his home in the Place des Vosges, now a free museum operated by the city of Paris.  Or get off the Metro at the stop bearing his name and walk down the avenue which also bears his name and you will find this sculpture above the doorway of no. 124, the site of a now gone building where he once lived.

Spring Has Sprung

We've been having an incredible stretch of perfect weather here in Paris -- blue skies with daytime highs in the mid 60s  -- a welcome respite after the gray chill of a Parisian winter.  Yesterday, my travels took me through the Jardin du Luxembourg, where it seemed that everyone and his brother had pulled up a chair to catch some rays.  So shoot me if I passed on the garden's lovely water features and floral displays.  The people -- some who had clearly dug deep into their closets for short skirts, strappy sandals, and sunglasses -- were much more interesting.  With the glare of the sun, my camera screen was illegible.  Happily, I have a few fun snaps to share.  Regrettably, I did not get a shot of the three twentysomething women sitting next to me.  They had pastries from the bakery, a thermos full of coffee with extra tiny cups, and cigarettes.  It was as if they had relocated their favorite cafe to a vantage point overlooking the grand bassin.

This young lady is mid yawn here. Moments later, she closed her eyes and gave up on whatever she'd been reading.

This gentleman remained surprisingly focused given all the distractions.

The mother in me wanted to tell the girl in white to put that damn phone down.

Madame is elegant even in her jeans.  But then there's that cigarette.

The moment doesn't exist unless you document it.

There is a McDonald's right across the Boulevard St. Michel entrance to the gardens. Don't ever let a French person tell you that McDonald's is just for Americans. They eat it up. (Of course, I don't know whether these dudes were French or not.)

The one patch of grass available to picnickers was jam-packed.  Kind of reminded me of the Mall in Washington on the Fourth of July.

And of course, there were two beautiful stretches of grass flanking the picnic area.  When they say stay off the grass here, they mean it.

Going the Distance

Some months back, I shared with you the story of Roxana, an acquaintance who has embarked upon a mission of walking every street in Paris before her husband's work assignment ends two years from now.  It got to me to wondering how many streets I'd walked myself.  So I got out my trusty laminated folding Streetwise Paris map, photocopied it, and set to work with a highlighter.  I easily marked in the routes I walk frequently and mentally retraced the steps I've taken on walking tours and jaunts around town.    And what I found was this:

So maybe I'm not in Roxana's league, but honestly, I haven't done half bad for someone who never had a particular goal in mind.  Now the Streetwise map doesn't cover all of Paris, particularly the far reaches north and south.  But let's not split hairs, folks.  You've got to admit that I've made some tracks.

Then again half bad means there's definitely room for improvement.  Fortunately, a couple of factors seem to be conspiring to get me moving -- the weather's fine, my gym membership expired and the rates they're charging for a partial year membership are exorbitant, and I've got some errands to do that will take me to uncharted territory.  More than that, it's amazing how carrying my map and highlighter in my bag motivates me to find new routes to familiar destinations.  What can I say, I'm all dork when it comes to Paris.

A Museum about Hunting? You Bet.

There was a time when I would no sooner take a guided tour of a cultural site than put ketchup on roast beef.  Guided tours, in my view, were only for the insulated or terrified tourist.  I wanted to be the person who did all the research myself and viewed whatever it was with my own eyes.

My how things change.  I still can't quite fathom taking a cruise or a bus tour of Europe with 5 cities in 10 days.  But I've changed my mind about guides.  A really good guide, one who is informed and has a talent for storytelling, can make a huge difference in your experience of places unknown. 

All this is a lead up to saying that I was surprised to find that I very much enjoyed my visit to the Musée de la Chasse et de la Nature in the upper Marais.  I'm not into hunting and I can't say I'm really into animals either, but thanks to a terrific guide, I learned quite a bit about the place of the hunt in French cultural history.  Although the building dates back to the 18th century, the museum itself is fairly new and well designed.  In addition to the cabinet of curiousities and all manner of stuffed heads, the collection includes works of art by many luminaries including Brueghel, Chardin, Corot, Cranach, and Rubens.  But it was thanks to my guide that I learned about the works of Desportes who documented the favorite hunting dogs of Louis XIV.  The dog depicted by Carle Vernet is much more than an image of a beloved pet; it's also a political commentary on the ruthless murder of the duc d'Enghien by Napoleon in 1804.

So go crazy and get a guide to help you experience the museum.  And rest assured that there's not one picture of dogs playing poker.

Musée de la Chasse et de la Nature

62, rue des Archives, 75003 Paris
Open daily (except Monday and holidays) from 11 am to 6 pm

It's a Bird, It's a Plane, It's a...

It's a gas balloon, permanently tethered at Parc Andre Citroen in the 15th arrondissement.  And what's more, you can actually take a ride in it up 150 meters, although it won't take you wafting across the city.  And if that's not reason enough to check it out, the balloon itself changes color in relation to the city's air quality.  Green is good, pink is bad, and everything in between is just par for the course.

You don't have to be anyone special to take a ride in this balloon. Just fork over your admission (10 euros for adults during the week or 12 on holidays or weekends with reduced rates for kids).  In fact, if you're a vrai Parisien under the age of 12, your ride is free if mom or dad pays.  And it's open for business every day from 9 am until the park closes.  For all the details, go to the Web site:  Ballon Air de Paris.  Since I'm the kind of person who gets motion sick in an elevator, I cannot vouch for it personally.  But I still think it's cool.

Les Serres d'Auteuil

For the last day of February, Paris taunted me. The day started sunny with blue skies but by 10:00, it had all gone south. The sun disappeared and a damp chill swept in, sending me running for thicker socks, a warmer scarf, and the gloves that I had discarded last week. Fortunately, I'd already made a plan to visit the greenhouses (les serres) in the Jardin d'Auteuil, abutting the Bois de Boulogne in the lower 16th. Originally a huge botanic garden in the time of Louis XV, time and urban development gradually reduced the size of the gardens. But there's still plenty to see here, at least for the next year or so. The recent decision by the French Tennis Federation to keep the French Open (known here by its location, Roland Garros) in the city of Paris means that the gardens will once again be reduced in size, this time to make way for tennis courts and the foot traffic engendered by an international sporting event. (If you want to know more about the controversy, you can read all about it the New York Times story.)

So my advice to you is to get off your duff and make your way to Auteuil as soon as possible, or at the very least sometime this spring when the outdoor gardens will begin to bloom in earnest. What's more, entrance to the greenhouses is free and open 364 days a year (Christmas excepted) from 9:00 am to 4:45 pm.


And here's a hot tip: in the biggest greenhouse known as the Palmarium, there are tables and chairs just waiting for you to come have a picnic. It's strictly BYOB (and for that matter everything else too) but absolutely allowed. Doesn't that sound better than a cup of crummy Parisian coffee on a terrasse filled with smokers?

Les Serres d'Auteuil

Metro: Porte d'Auteuil

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