Last Days

Tags

art, contemporary art, France, Guillaume, MAC-VAL, meals, Paris, Vitry-sur-Seine, Zhizhong

My last few days this year — Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday — were more of a denouement than a peak. I had no house guests, and my only social events were a play and an impromptu dinner party at my apartment on Wednesday night. I did see two good art museums, but mostly just walked around, did a lot of blogging and reading, bought a few gifties, finally sent my postcards, etc. I have often remarked that a trip is too short if you aren’t ready when it’s time to go home; this year I’m ready.

My first art outing was to the Grand Palais to see their Amadeo de Souza-Cardoso show: discussed in my previous post.

On Wednesday I trekked out to yet another banlieue, Vitry-sur-Seine, to see (for the first time) the contemporary art museum of Val de Marne, MAC-VAL. It takes a solid hour to get there, the first half on the métro and the second half by bus. I learned by harsh experience that you don’t buy a ticket to Vitry-sur-Seine — that works only on the métro and RER — you just use one normal métro ticket for each leg of the journey. I’ll put up a photo set eventually, but here’s a clip of one of my favorite pieces:

Wednesday evening Zhizhong and I saw a student production, Dom Juan 2016, at the charming Théâtre Adyar in the 7ème. The students themselves were very easy on the eyes, and their energy and intensity was admirable, but both Zhizhong and I found the French challenging. We could follow the overall concept but the details and jokes were often lost on us. After the show we met up with Guillaume and pulled together a last-minute dinner at my apartment. I’m happy to report that at the end of the evening I was still sober enough to stagger the length of the apartment into bed.

Zhizhong and Guillaume at an impromptu dinner at my 2016 apartment, on my last night in Paris!

Thursday morning I cleaned, packed, and — for you, gentle reader — blogged.

Last Weekend

Tags

16mm, 2015 by Nicholas Delprat, 2016 by Béranger Laymond, Ali, Anti-terrorism teams, Army teams, art, banlieue, Béranger Laymond, bidonville, bouche à oreille, bouchon d'oreille, Canal Saint-Denis, Censier–Daubenton, contemporary art, Foodi, Foyer Vietnam, France, Galerie les Yeux Fertiles, Grand Train, Guillaume, Jacques Carelman, Jacques Prévert, language, Le Grand Train, Lemon, Lina's, Lisa, Louvre, Marais, meals, Montorgueil, neighborhoods, Nicholas Delprat, Palais Royal, Paris, racism, raton, raton-laveur, Reliefs, RER Control, Roma, rue Montorgueil, Rue Mouffetard, Saint-Denis, shantytown, soldiers, Submachine guns, We Can Control Space, Zhizhong, Zongzi

These past two years my cousin Lisa — so big a part of my Paris experience in earlier years! — has been in Uganda working on her Ph.D. She’s still looking after me, however, and she suggested a dinner with our mutual friends Ali and Zhizhong. We met at my place on Friday evening for an apéro, then ate at nearby Foodi, where I had dined my first night in Paris this year.

Ali, Zhizhong and me on our way to dinner.

There was a snafu about our reservation — I’ve found that smaller restaurants often don’t notice last-minute reservations made through the Fork — but we just had to kill half an hour at Hoppy, and then could be seated.

Zhizhong and me at Foodi (photo credit, Ali)

Ali and I had bento boxes, but Zhizhong was thrilled to get a traditional Chinese dish, Zongzi. In a beloved legend packets of rice were thrown into a river to distract fish from eating the body of a hero.

Zhizhong’s Zongzi Traditionnelle at Foodi

Ali headed home after dinner but Zhizhong and I got into a deep conversation, mostly about the opportunities, challenges and temptations of his new job. He’s working like crazy, but also coming into contact with upper levels of French business and society that raise all sorts of interesting questions. We used to have conversations like this back in Cambridge while he was working on his Ph.D., but this is the first really long talk we’ve had in the 3-1/2 years he’s been living in Paris. It was after 3 am by the time he headed home, and I staggered into bed!

I understandably got a late start on Saturday, then strolled over to the Palais Royal to do some reading.

Reading at the Palais Royal

I grabbed a quick and cheap lunch at Lina’s on Etienne Marcel, then strolled over to the left bank via the Louvre. You see teams of four heavily-armed soldiers all over Paris. Usually I’m reluctant to take their picture but I did take this shot to give you the idea. From one perspective they make me feel safer and from another perspective they make me uneasy.

Well-protected Eiffel tower seller at the Louvre

My destination was the little district of art galleries in the 6ème arrondissement near the École des beaux-arts. I had slighted this area despite my interest in art because I had the impression that these would be schlock galleries catering to tourists. There were a few of those towards the Latin Quarter but overall I was quite impressed with the quality of the galleries in this area.

Snow bicycle by Jacques Carelman at the Galerie les Yeux Fertiles

After the galleries started closing I strolled across the Latin Quarter to rue Monge, and headed up to a student-run restaurant I had read about, the Foyer Vietnam, in the 5ème. Mysterious from the outside because its windows are frosted, inside it’s a simple and welcoming Vietnamese restaurant. The food was tasty and inexpensive, and I sat at a long table with other diners. Very much the kind of experience I was looking for that evening.

Both before and after dinner I strolled around the area. I had previously noted the neighborhood around métro Censier–Daubenton as one where I could envisage staying one year. The only real drawback I saw was the fact that it’s a bit of a hike to the Marais, which is these days more of an issue for my guests than it is for me. Nearby rue Mouffetard, which had charmed me on earlier trips to Paris, now seems trampled to death by the tourist hoards. Rue Montorgueil itself — while still attracting a lot of French visitors — seems to be going in the same direction. Where can I go to escape from … people like me?

On Sunday morning I blogged and got a quick lunch at Lemon. Then Guillaume picked me up and we traveled together to the banlieue of Saint-Denis to see a contemporary art show. Guillaume had worked in Saint-Denis on an assignment and his employer, a city planning arm of the Paris region, plans to move its main office there. I had previously been to see the basilica (which is most impressive) but hadn’t dared to venture deeper into the city. It was reassuring to have an experienced guide.

In prior years I’ve usually purchased a monthly Navigo pass, which extends on weekends, etc. to the entire Île de France region, including Saint-Denis. This year, however, I’m just using métro tickets, which only cover the inner zones of Paris. When Guillaume pointed this out at Gare du Nord we joked about the idea of my taking my chances on being “controlled” and required to pay a substantial fine, but decided to buy the correct tickets. Our virtue was rewarded, since there was a massive control operation at Saint-Denis! Dozens of police were writing up fines for people who didn’t have the right credentials, and catching people who were trying to escape the control.

The art show was supposed to be in an apartment building in a lovely location, right between the Seine and the Canal Saint-Denis. At first we went to the wrong floor and had a disorienting experience since nobody at all was there.

Selfie of me and Guillaume in sketchy banlieue elevator

But once we found the show it was normal and the organizers were friendly and informative.

Reliefs, 2016 by Béranger Laymond at We Can Control Space show

Bob and Guillaume contemplating 16mm, 2015 by Nicholas Delprat

The show organizers had said that there were also some exterior artworks, so after leaving the gallery we went around back. It turned out to be a sandy beach on the banks of the canal, where a cheerful young crowd was watching France beat Ireland in the round of 16 of the European soccer cup!

Afternoon on the beach … of the Canal Saint-Denis

This being France of course there was a bar, and of course we each had a couple of beers… After the match we got into conversation with neighbors at our picnic table and learned a lot about the building. The residents are mostly artists and other creative types (also, contrary to the prevailing demographic of Saint-Denis, mostly white), and they are fighting to keep control of the building. It’s really a gorgeous spot; the only little issue I noticed was the Roma (gypsy) shantytown across the canal.

Roma shantytown across the canal

Guillaume explained that French racism against the Roma is even more intense than that against North Africans. There’s no immediate prospect of a Frexit, but the far right would love to use fear and hatred of immigrants to lever France out of the E.U. as well. Our conversation was in French, as at the dinner party in May. I had to ask him to repeat or explain a few times but on the whole I was able to keep up pretty well.

We said farewell at Gare du Nord, so I strolled over to the Grand Train, which I has first visited with Kristoffer the previous week, to see what it was like in nicer weather. It was a lot busier than last time, but all I had energy for was drinking a small beer and heading home for dinner and sleep.

“Time misleads us. Time hugs us. Time is our station. Time is our train.” –Jacques Prévert at Le Grand Train

Pizza restaurant at Le Grand Train. One of a dozen bars and restaurants.

Mot du jour: « bouche à oreille », “word of mouth”, but literally, “mouth to ear”, which I think is more evocative than our idiom. Not to be confused with « bouchon d’oreille », “earplug”.

Bonus Mot du jour: « bidonville », “shantytown”.

Second Bonus Mot du jour: « raton-laveur », “raccoon”, but literally, “little rat washer”. Beware the word « raton », however, since it’s also a racist slur for North Africans.

Machine à raton-laveur by Jacques Carelman at Galerie les Yeux Fertiles

First Weeks – 2016

Tags

art, assessment, Barcelona, Bordeaux, Buenos Aires, challenge, exercise, France, health, heel, Jared, Lisa, Nice, Paris, Sherard, sociability, swimming, thrill, Tokyo, Toulouse, Vélib, weather, Zhizhong

I’ve been in Paris for 2-1/2 weeks now, and in France for almost a month. It’s time for an assessment.

Overall it’s been a good trip, with many fine moments and no big problems. The only real issues have been my heel and the digestive upset of the past few days. They each had some impact, but I’m hoping that they are both behind me. I’ve stayed in pleasant places throughout, and I’m very happy with the Paris apartment. There’s been variety and stimulation, and nothing like the letdown I felt last year after arriving in Paris.

My initial trip through the south of France was pleasant and interesting, especially the stay with Charlie and Markevin near Toulouse. Of course it didn’t afford the level of stimulation and excitement of Rome and Venice, but what could? Nice, Toulouse and Bordeaux, though all among the top ten French cities, seem different in kind from Paris, a bit like Boston relative to New York City. They are fine to visit for a few days but don’t come close to the richness and variety of the capital.

I’ve seen a lot of good art this year, and I plan to see more. I’ve had consistently good food and some truly wonderful meals. I explored quite a bit in Nice and Bordeaux, and with Charlie all around his region, but I haven’t done as much walking as usual in Paris, due to weather and my heel. I hope to get out more later in my stay. I haven’t been swimming at all yet this year, and I need to build that into my routine. I have been using the Vélib bikes a lot more this year, and enjoying — when I don’t get snagged by availability issues — their convenience and efficiency.

One big surprise was the level of sociability in Paris this year. I didn’t have a scheduled house guest until June, so I was prepared to be mostly alone the first part of my Paris stay, except for seeing Zhizhong once or twice. I had offered accommodations the last week of May to two indecisive friends, but they eventually decided not to come, leaving me with no planned house guests in May. But instead of relative solitude I have been pretty continuously sociable, with new and old friends. Jared W is here for a month as a scholar in residence and we hung out quite a bit on my arrival. Then Jared R arrived for a week; the original plan was for him to stay with Jared W but he ended up sleeping on my sofa bed for four nights, and exploring Paris with me for a couple of days. Then there were my new Korean friends from Bordeaux, Craig, Manu, and the dinner party. I’ve enjoyed this social whirl but it came as a surprise after being ready to amuse myself for a couple of weeks. I’ve still managed a fair amount of alone time, however, and I expect to have more in the latter part of June.

In part because of all the visitors I’ve been slow to reconnect with my Parisian friends, except for Zhizhong, who I’ve seen several times. He’s moving apartments, however, and has a big project at work, so will be quite occupied for the next week or so. Since Sherard arrives Tuesday I’ll probably wait until he leaves to try to schedule time with my other French friends, in which case it may be hello-goodbye rather than a richer social engagement. My cousin Lisa — a stalwart companion during my first five visits — is still in Uganda.

Like last year, Paris has been chilly in the last half of May, and this year often rainy. This is presumably just random variation (unless the Gulf Stream is rerouting!) but it undercuts my strategy of spending the first half of May somewhere warmer, then getting to Paris in mid-May. The first part has been working fine — especially last year in Italy — but Paris has in recent years stayed mired in cloudy weather through the end of May. Another year I might stay away all of May and arrive here at the start of June, even though I much prefer the luxury of six weeks in Paris over four, and I don’t want to brave the heat and tourists of July.

Not being in Boston for two months has always been part of the Spring in Paris experience. These long trips disrupt my habits there and test my friendships. There’s a downside to this, but there’s also a bracing aspect, in that both I and my friends feel the effect (or lack thereof!) of my not being there. It makes me appreciate the things I like about Boston even as I’m enjoying the different pleasures of Paris (or wherever). These factors have played out somewhat differently these past two years: One friend has vociferously critiqued my trips here, and pointed out how much fun I’m missing in Boston. Yet I’ve also been able to spend quality time here with so many other friends from Boston that it almost seems like being at home.

One factor of earlier trips is almost completely gone: the thrill and challenge of spending such a long time living in a foreign country, speaking a different language. I’ve become so comfortable in Paris that these trips have themselves become more routine than adventurous. My petits séjours are so pleasant that I’m reluctant to change the pattern, but it would be more exciting to stay next year somewhere less familiar, such as Barcelona, Buenos Aires or Tokyo.

The weak euro has continued to make travel in Europe a lot more affordable in dollar terms than in earlier years. The cost of the trip is happily not an issue for me, but my Yankee soul is gratified when I get value for money.

A Billion Euros of Nothing

Tags

Canopée, custard colored flop, Existential Nothingness, Forum Les Halles, France, Grand Canopy, La Canopée des Halles, Les Halles, Muji, Paris

For almost all the years I’ve been doing my petits séjours in Paris the former site of the Les Halles food market has been a massive construction site. Finally, about a month ago, the Grand Canopy (La Canopée des Halles) was opened! My thoughts are almost perfectly captured by this Guardian article: A custard-coloured flop: the €1bn revamp of Les Halles in Paris, except I think “custard-colored” is way too kind; the text of the article says it better: “Ranging between sand and rancid butter depending on the light, the yellow steelwork casts a jaundiced pallor across the scene, lending the interiors a decidedly institutional air.” (my emphasis)

I grant the building two points: (1) It’s big. (2) Its sculptural undulations are, as a work of abstract art, rather cool. But having got that out of my system basically everything else about it is bad. Here’s what you see when you step up to the canopy. I had to go pano because the Nelson Mandela Park opposite won’t be open for another year or two — click on each image to get the full impact.

The Grand Canopy. (Click on image for full panoramic view.)

What thrilling treasures does this gargantuan structure invite you to explore??

Under the Canopy is … nothing. (Click on image for full panoramic view.)

Nothing! Nothing but staircases and empty, empty space. I mean really empty, as in Existentially Empty.

Existential Nothingness beneath the Canopy

Is this at least an efficient way to move a lot of people between the ground level and the train station and shopping mall below? Not really: there are exactly two escalators between the middle and lower level. What will happen at rush hour? Or when one of them has to be repaired? Who got the big bucks to think about simple things like this??

The shopping center itself is nice; a big improvement on its run-down, confusing and sometimes dangerous predecessor. There’s a Muji store, which soothed the psychic wounds that the canopy had inflicted.

Soothing Muji

Why couldn’t they have asked these people to design the new building? It would have been transcendental instead of execrable.

Update: Amusingly trenchant comments on the canopy from a favorable review of one of the restaurants in the new space:

“A recent article in The Guardian called the Canopée, the new roof over the Forum des Halles in the center of Paris, a ‘custard-colored flop.’ I’d be more inclined to call it a regurgitated-custard-colored flop; custard doesn’t deserve such treatment. Although its swooping curves can be quite fetching from certain angles, it is basically just a fancy, very expensive (€216 million out of €1 billion for the entire Les Halles renovation project) hat for the badly conceived concrete wasteland underneath it. A shame that the city of Paris tore down one embarrassing eyesore just to put up another.” (my emphasis) Vive Champeaux, À Bas la Canopée!

My Travel Errors

Tags

travel errors

All my adult life I’ve occasionally made serious and inexplicable travel errors; mistakes that could quite possibly have had disastrous consequences. Happily, I have so far gotten away scott free, except for one situation that cost me a few hundred dollars. But any one of these errors had the potential of wrecking my trip, or otherwise causing a lot of grief. Naturally these errors concern me, but just “trying harder” to avoid them isn’t necessarily the solution, since they happen when I’m already stressed. This sort of thing never happened in my law or computer careers, and doesn’t occur in my daily life. The issue seems peculiarly connected to travel.

These errors happen at times of particular stress: managing all my luggage at departure or arrival, for example, or going through airport security. They also fall into a particular pattern: I get many complicated details right but I forget one important thing.

The most remarkable incident was about twenty years ago. I left my former home in Lincoln in a rush for a five-week trip to New Zealand and Australia. When I got back I found that I had left the front door of my house unlocked! Not only unlocked, but actually standing open!! It had snowed and a small amount of snow had drifted into my entryway. But nothing was missing.

The one travel error that cost me significant money occurred in 2012 in Morocco. I had gone there for two weeks after spending two months in Paris. My landlord in Paris had required me to pay the $2,000 security deposit in cash, then had returned it in cash when I left. I tried every way I could think of to deposit the cash in a bank or have it sent back to me, but the only options would require the punishing expense of converting it to euros and then converting it back to dollars. So I had carried it in a waist belt all through Morocco, putting it in hotel safes whenever possible. On the morning of my flight, after packing and putting the cash and my passport into my waist belt, I realized that I had some time to kill before I had to leave for the airport. I was about to go out for coffee I had a twinge of anxiety: what if I was mugged and the money stolen on my last day in Morocco? So I moved the passport to my pocket and put the money belt back into the hotel room safe. After my coffee I came back into the room, did a last pass to make certain that I hadn’t forgotten anything, then took my luggage down to the waiting cab. Forgetting, however, to pull my waist belt back out of the safe! I realized my error in the airport departure lounge. I called the hotel but it was too late to send the money belt after me. I considered missing my flight but that would have involved uncertain expense and delay, and I was feeling very ready to get home. (In fact I was seriously ill for nearly a week after getting home — that cup of coffee maybe?)

The hotel was honest and extremely cooperative, but there was a problem: money legally cannot be sent out of Morocco, so even conversion to Moroccan currency wasn’t a helpful option. Finally I contacted an acquaintance with a business in Morocco who was willing to help. She sent a car and driver to Casablanca to pick up the cash, then credited the money to me, less that expense. I then made a donation to a Moroccan charity in further appreciation of her help. So it was a hassle and an expense but not an outright disaster.

The other errors have generally involved leaving my passport or a key piece of luggage behind as I move through the travel process. This kind of thing has happened several times over the last few years, and happened again at the start of this trip. In all these cases I retrieved the missing item with minimal hassle or expense, but it could have been catastrophic.

One lesson is that I’m lucky. Another is that I’m flawed. And a third is that travel for me has this inherent risk, in addition to all of its other little hazards. Fortunately the rewards of travel are also great.

 

Afterword – 2015

Tags

Antoine, apartment, art, Chris, Elliot, flâneur, Gerry, Gordon, Lisa, Mariage Frères, Matt, meals, Montorgueil, Mustafa, Paris, rue Montorgueil, weather, Zhizhong

My sixth petit séjour in Paris was terrific in several respects, quite good overall, and  disappointing in just a few ways.

My apartment was simply wonderful. It lived up to the site’s description with only a few tiny glitches, and in several respects was even a bit better than I expected. Ironically, its only real deficiency was the fact that it was so comfortable that I sometimes stayed home — reading, blogging or resting — instead of going out into the world! It was wonderfully quiet for sleeping, yet steps from all the animation and food of rue Montorgueil.

I had realized when I reserved the apartment that it was located on a street of fabric shops, but there was one odd detail I hadn’t fully anticipated: during the day several porters waited across the street, ready to transport bolts of fabric. They weren’t unpleasant or threatening, but I couldn’t help being aware that every daytime departure or arrival from my apartment was closely observed by guys with little to do but watch and gossip within the tight-knit fabric community (pun intended). I long ago gave up most ideas of privacy, but I couldn’t help noticing that this particular location so thoroughly lacked the anonymity that is a general feature of urban life.

I had a tiny anxiety that I would end up taking the elevator too much, since this was the first apartment I have rented that had one. But in fact I used it only to transport my big suitcase on arrival and departure, and a couple of times for big loads of groceries, etc. The rest of the time I scampered up and down the three flights of stairs as I have in prior years — with the exception of my first year when I found the five flights of stairs in both apartments psychologically distancing.

When I first arrived in Paris I didn’t feel as energized as in prior years. This was a principal subject of my post on May 28. I’ve had slow times for a day or two on all my visits, but never before when I first arrived. I’m not sure about the reason, but a few hypotheses seem plausible:

• This year I had just spent ten days as a vigorous tourist in Rome and Venice. By the time I got to Paris I was tired! It was lovely and relaxing to just spend time in my new home-away-from-home. I puttered around setting up housekeeping, but didn’t feel as motivated as in prior years to hit the Parisian pavement.
• In contrast to Rome and Venice — which were both new to me — Paris seemed awfully familiar at first. Paris was charming as ever, but it no longer seemed to offer the same thrill of discovery that I had experienced every day in Italy, and my first few years in Paris. When I thought of going somewhere I had usually already been there, and the idea of going again seemed uninspiring.
• Zhizhong and Elliot were great but Lisa and Alexis were away and my other Paris friends were pretty much no-shows in May. As in prior years I worked the social networks looking for new friends, but (in part perhaps because I had been spoiled by a happy experience in Boston this winter) the last two weeks in May I never found anyone quite interesting enough to meet.

Visitors helped me recover from my lethargic mood. Brian and Sheila and their friends were lively companions on two days, and when Chris and Matt arrived the first week of June I was back in business. From then on a stream of visitors — and a few new French friends — kept me almost continuously engaged. Showing friends around lets you see a city through fresh eyes, and regain some of the delight of discovery.

Several of my visitors were especially talented flâneurs: Yunpeng and Matt and Chris come first to mind, though Brian and Sheila and their friends were also keen explorers.

I had several wonderful meals. My favorite was Frenchie with Matt and Chris, followed closely by Hélène Darroze with Taka and Nick.  Métropolitan with Gerry, Bofinger with Gordon and Musatafa and Tintilou with Elliot didn’t disappoint either. Mariage Frères was more of a mixed bag, though, because of the lamentable service.

I saw some excellent art, as usual mixed in with less inspiring stuff.

I went on several fine excursions outside Paris, with Zhizhong, Brian and Sheila, and Matt and Chris, as well as a visit to Senlis by myself.

Two street festivals were fabulous: La Fête de la Musique with Sawyer and Seth was absolutely wonderful, because of the opportunity to meet and hang out with them as well as the giddy atmosphere of music and celebration. Paris Pride with Zhizhong and Guillaume started slowly but ended up being quite festive and sociable.

The weather was ok in May, but on the chilly side. It was quite good in June. It never got really hot until the week after I left, when it hit 103 degrees at one point. The cross-ventilation in my apartment worked great, and was pleasant on several occasions. But it wasn’t really necessary this year during my stay.

Blogging was an important part of my experience, as in prior years. In the first few years I would blog in the evening after getting home, even if it meant staying up quite late. But this year I would more typically spend a morning organizing photos and writing several days’ posts. It felt as though this took more time away from exploration than in prior years. But I continue to enjoy the process, and the result. My life in Paris is examined far more intimately than my life in Boston.

Parisian friends have been a big part of prior trips. This year I enjoyed several memorable outings with Zhizhong, including a posh evening at the home of the American Ambassador followed by crashing an even posher private party. It was great to reconnect with Antoine this year, starting with a delightful dinner party catered by Matt and Chris. Others were away or elusive, however, and until the very end of the trip I didn’t meet anyone new. Fortunately, in the last week I caught up with Martin and met Guillaume, so I felt somewhat reconnected with the Paris social scene.

I walked a bit less than in prior years: an average of 6 miles a day instead of 7. That’s still twice what I do in Boston, but it’s odd. I swam just twice during the stay, and relied mostly on walking and stairs to keep fit. My weight stayed the same and I was at the same level on my elliptical trainer when I restarted regular workouts, so all seems good. I just flossed since I had abandoned my Paris Waterpik, and that seemed to work fine as well.

The dollar was so strong! This made euro prices much cheaper in dollar terms than in prior years. While on the one hand I had never let the cost cramp my style, on the other hand affordability warmed the cockles of my Yankee heart.

There was a lot to like in this year’s stay, but another year I may change the program a bit. I might pick another city instead of or in addition to Paris, such as Barcelona or a city elsewhere in France.  I might finally rent a villa in the Italian or French countryside for a couple of weeks, or even do a bike trip or charter a canal boat! Stay tuned…

On My Own Again

Tags

16 Haussmann, art, Carol Rama, contemporary art, crêpe, crêperie, Délices de la Lune, Eiffel Tower, fun house, funhouse, gallette, Henry Darger, House of Horrors, La Fourchette, Markus Lüpertz, meals, Musée d'Art moderne de la Ville de Paris, Paris, pur, Rosa Bonheur, Rosa Bonheur sur Seine, rue Lafitte, Sacre Coeur, Sturtevant, The Fork, Tour Saint-Jacques, traveling alone, traveling with friends

I’m on my own for a few days between house guests. I’m always struck by the difference between traveling with friends and traveling by myself.

When I’m with others a large part of my consciousness involves my companions. I’m making sure we’re together and everyone is happy, or if not trying to figure out how to do better. Decisions require discussion, but they also also have the potential for a more interesting choice than if I followed my usual preferences. I don’t spend as much time absorbing my surroundings, but by seeing the environment through the eyes of others I often perceive something I would have missed. And being with friends is cozy and comfortable.

Alone again, however, it can feel as if curled-up antennae open out; even that a third eye opens! Suddenly I’m more aware of everything around me, and of my own thoughts and feelings. Acute self-consciousness was sometimes a problem when I traveled alone before I came out, but in recent decades it’s been stimulating rather than excruciating. Safety is another aspect; there’s a greater need to be aware of your surroundings when you’re alone (and I’m afraid that as I age I am becoming an increasingly attractive target). Loneliness and horniness can also be factors, causing me to pay more attention to those around me than when I’m already with a nice or attractive guy. On the other hand, being alone is more stressful, and I can run out of steam more easily on my own than when I’m swept along by the enthusiasm of a group.

As I’ve mentioned before, I have no clear preference between traveling alone or with friends. They are simply different experiences, both of which have their pros and cons.

On Tuesday, after Matt and Chris left, I did laundry and reorganized the apartment, met a promising young man for an afternoon drink, then had dinner with an old friend, Larry Tu, at 16 Haussmann, in the Paris Marriott Opera Ambassador Hotel. As Larry says, it’s a calm and elegant room, and both service and food are good.

My delicious salmon appetizer at 16 Haussmann.

Larry and me at 16 Haussmann.

To put the cherry on top, by reserving through The Fork (which I heartily recommend) we could order from the regular menu for half price! Yet it somehow seems off kilter to come all the way to Paris and eat at a Marriott. I tend to prefer places that are more crowded and noisy, but also hip and trendy. On the other hand, this meal has me wondering whether it might sometimes be more pleasant to have a good French meal in a lovely calm room — especially at half price!

After dinner I strolled back home along the Grands Boulevards. At the end of rue Lafitte, right next to the hotel, Sacré-Coeur loomed like a Disney castle, or a hallucination!

When I was almost home I noticed that Bonne Nouvelle, the little bar on Rue du Faubourg Poissonnière across from the Grand Rex, was overflowing with gay men. Lisa’s Geoff had introduced me to it last year, but it had been dead every time I’d seen it this year. Tuesday seems to be its big night! I had a beer there just because. The owner greeted me warmly — possibly even remembering me from last year? — but I didn’t strike up any other conversations.

Wednesday I had lunch at Pur, a trendy locavore place on my own street that I had discovered with Matt and Chris last week. I really like the experience but I have to agree with one reviewer that you’re still hungry when you leave: the portions are tiny.

Lunch at Pur. Tasty and healthy but not filling.

Then I went over to have a look at the Modern Art Museum of the City of Paris in the 16th arrondissement. It’s overshadowed by the Pompidou Center, but it’s much less crowded and I quite enjoy it. I’ll put up a photo set of my favorite pieces from this year’s visit at some point, but for the moment here are a few glimpses. There’s a truly bizarre “House of Horrors” in the basement, a scary two-person ride in the dark with strange creatures popping out at you. The ultimate convergence of fun house and contemporary art!

House of Horrors at the Musée d’Art moderne de la Ville de Paris.

In the House of Horrors at the Musée d’Art moderne de la Ville de Paris.

And here’s a video panorama of the Surrealism Room.

Wednesday night I made and enjoyed a home-cooked meal with fresh pasta and pesto sauce (left by Matt and Chris), green beans, salad and a pain de tradition.

Home-cooked meal at 12 rue des Jeûneurs.

For Thursday lunch I tried out a Bretonne restaurant a few blocks away that I have walked past many times, Délices de la Lune (“delights of the moon”). The staff were friendly and professional, and the food was delicious and seemed authentic.

Lunch at Délices de la Lune in the 2ème.

I had not allowed enough time on Wednesday afternoon to see the three exhibitions that had just opened at the Musée d’Art moderne de la Ville de Paris so I went back on Thursday afternoon to take them in. All three showcased eccentric artists somewhat out of the mainstream: Markus Lüpertz, Carol Rama and Henry Darger. They were all intriguing, but of the three I preferred the Lüpertz show.

Markus Lüpertz exhibition at the Modern Art Museum of the City of Paris.

Rough sculptures depicting characters from Greek mythology were my favorites. Much of Carol Rama’s work is lesbian porn, which can be stimulating but isn’t really my style. Henry Darger’s work is profoundly weird. His entire ouvre was discovered in his cluttered apartment after his death. Most of it depicts a grisly war between imaginary countries involving a group of girls, who are usually depicted naked, with immature male genitals. The progression of drawings might well be as interesting to an abnormal psychologist — or a child molester — as to an aesthete.

After the museum I strolled across the Seine and took a photo of the new Rosa Bonheur floating bar. I have been skeptical about this, since part of the charm of the original Rosa is its relative inaccessibility. Most of the patrons seemed straight — which is also true of the original guinguette, except on Sunday afternoons — but after taking the photo I did notice a table of four young men who seemed friendly.

Rosa Bonheur sur Seine. Bobo going posh?

On Friday morning, before Yunpeng arrived, I climbed the Tour Saint-Jacques in the Marais. You have to reserve on line several days in advance, and only 17 people are allowed up at a time. It was an interesting tour and a breathtaking view. Here’s a sample photo, and you can see the full photo set at: The View from the Tour Saint-Jacques.

Les Invalides, the Eiffel Tower and the Musée d’Orsay from the Tour Saint-Jacques in the Marais.

First Two Weeks

Tags

apartment, collapsing building, euro, flowers, friends, metal rooftop barriers, mood, Paris, restaurants, visitors, weather

My first two weeks in Paris have been reasonably good, and there have been some pleasant surprises, but my own mood has been somewhat ho-hum. Here are some high and low points:

• My apartment this year is simply fabulous. Not only is the decor lovely, which I could see from the pictures, but everything is well-designed and functional, and it’s squeaky clean. The through ventilation (street to courtyard) will be terrific when it gets warm. The location is convenient to all the shopping and energy of rue Montorgueil but the immediate neighborhood is very quiet at night, so excellent for sleeping. The washer-drier actually dries! All this has been such a pleasure after last year’s disappointing (though ultimately ok) place. (There have been tiny glitches: a slow drip from the water heater and a couple of things I decided to buy for the kitchen — a set of sharp knives and a colander — but really nothing to complain about.)
• Playing house. Feel free to laugh, but one of the pleasures of these stays has been shopping for food and all the other supplies that make life comfortable. Everything is a bit different here, so there’s a little challenge in finding the right item the first time you need it. But mostly it’s just fun to fill a big shopping bag and walk home with your groceries the way real Parisians do.
• It’s been chilly. The highs have typically been in the 60s and the lows in the 40s. That isn’t terrible — and it’s often been quite nice in the sun — but it certainly isn’t sunbathing weather! I had encountered similar weather at the start of May in prior trips so I cleverly spent the first two weeks of May in Italy. That worked great — it was lovely in both Rome and Venice — but the cold weather returned just as I got to Paris.
• Visitors. My first house guests — Matt and Chris — arrive on Saturday morning. I’m looking forward to the energy (and cooking!) they will bring. But already there have been several unexpected visitors: I caught up with Mustapha for dinner — he and his partner are expected visitors towards the end of June but his May visit was a surprise. I met up with Taka and his partner for dinner at a Michelin star restaurant. And I had a walk, a dinner and a day trip with my cousin Brian, his wife Sheila, and their travel companions Rick and Cheryl. Various other formerly-unexpected visitors have surfaced over the last few days so the rest of the stay looks to be even more sociable.
• Old Paris friends. As I feared, my cousin Lisa’s absence (in Uganda!) has left a real void; every other year she has been a big part of my welcome. Zhizhong has been great, and I had a cozy dinner last evening with Lisa’s partner Ali. I also have a few meals with other friends coming up. But the French guys I’ve met on prior trips have been elusive this year. I’m sure I’ll catch up with some of them before my stay is over, but I’m reminded that after all my visits my friendship community here is still pretty thin.
• New Paris friends. Part of the adventure of spending time here has always been the possibility of meeting new friends, typically through gay social networking sites. This year, despite a lot of chat, I haven’t actually met anyone new! It’s possible that I’m being more selective, or less seductive, but for whatever reason social networking has this year not repaid the time and effort it has absorbed.
• Favorite Restaurants Disappearing. I was shocked this year to find that Le Loup Blanc had closed, as Le Marsangy had last year. I was warily pleased yesterday to see on The Fork that Le Marsangy had reopened so I booked for dinner. My heart sunk when I saw “cheesburger” on the menu, and it turned out that the chef whose cuisine I loved had retired and the new cook was not up to the job.
  

  This would have been an ok meal as part of a 14 euro prix fixe menu, but it wasn’t worth 25 euros, especially since the leeks were undercooked.

• The Weak Euro. The dollar is much stronger against the euro than it has been during any of my prior stays. I can afford the trip either way but my Yankee soul exults in how much cheaper everything is, starting with the apartment itself and continuing through eating out, etc. And things that seemed cheap in prior years now seem like ridiculous bargains: bread, cheese, wine.
• My Mood. Despite the good features of these first two weeks I’ve been in an odd mood, less excited and adventurous than in prior years. I’ve spent more time at home than usual, and when I’ve ventured out it has tended to be day trips to the provinces rather than going alone to gay bars or engaging artists in conversations, as I did at the start of last year’s visit. I’m not sure why this is, but I certainly hope my mood improves!

Finally, here are a few photos I’ve taken over the past several days.

Metal barriers to discourage people from crossing between adjacent roofs are common but this one takes the cake.

The left side of this building, across from my apartment, seems to be collapsing!

Flowers in the park surrounding the Tour Saint-Jacques.

Living in Paris

Tags

balade, Belleville, Berthillon, Fox News, l'Ile Saint-Louis, l'Oasis d'Aboukir, Marais, Martin Crimp, Mur Végétal, No-Go Zones, Paris, Patrick LeBlanc, plant wall, Play, Play House, Théâtre de Belleville, Vertical Garden

When you visit a place for only a few days, especially for the first time, it’s natural to want to see and do as much as possible. At home, in contrast, we typically follow comfortable routines. For better or worse my stays in Paris increasingly feel like being at home rather than being dazzled by contact with a new environment. The difference was particularly noticeable this year since I started off as a first-time tourist in Rome and Venice. My arrival in Paris was fun and pleasant, but also familiar and cozy. Actually more like being in Boston than in Venice. This was inevitable, and isn’t at all unpleasant, but it does mean that I may have to look elsewhere for really challenging travel adventures.

One advantage of coming back year after year is that you can see how things change. In 2013 I was impressed to see that a wall in the Montorgueil quarter had been transformed into l’Oasis d’Aboukir. Here’s how it has developed year by year:

l’Oasis d’Aboukir, 2013.

It was arguably even nicer last year:

L’Oasis d’Aboukir, 2014.

Still gorgeous this year, but has it possibly gotten a bit shaggy?

l’Oasis d’Aboukir, 2015.

2016 Update: Quite similar to 2015, so perhaps it’s reached full maturity.

l’Oasis d’Aboukir, 2016.

The concept of the Vertical Garden or Mur Végétal has become all the rage in Paris, and worldwide. Its creator and chief exponent is a botanist named Patrick LeBlanc.

Walking around Paris is still fun for me, even when the sights have become familiar.

Medieval towers of the Archives complex along rue Vieux du Temple in the Marais.

Last Friday afternoon I took a walking tour of lower Belleville, focusing on history and current cultural institutions. I chose the district because it’s trendy, and was listed as one of Fox News’s idiotic “No-Go Zones” after the Charlie Hebdo murders. I was impressed by the Théâtre de Belleville so I went back there on Sunday evening to see a play, Play House by Martin Crimp. It’s a wild and woolly work, very well realized by two talented young actors. I followed what was going on throughout — even when it was pretty crazy! — even though my French was only good enough for me to understand about half the sentences. I plan to go back to see another play there: Werther & Werther. By the way, whenever I’m interested in entertainment in Paris I first check the BilletReduc site. Usually there’s some savings, in this case 80% — the Play House ticket cost just 5 euros!

I wandered down along the Seine after dinner and felt a desire for something sweet. I noticed the line of tourists waiting for ice cream … and bought a banana instead.

The line waiting for ice cream at Berthillon on l’Ile Saint-Louis.

Mot du jour: balade – stroll, though often more specifically a guided walk.

First Two Weeks

Tags

activity, apartment, cafetière à piston, Coffee, fitbit, floors, French friends, French press, Internet, miles, Phone, Saint Paul, scarf, weather

My first two weeks this year have been good. The experience has been largely similar to prior years, but with some differences worth mentioning.

• Weather. I’ve come to realize that Paris weather is just as unpredictable as Boston’s, although more moderate. The first three weeks of April this year were, I’m told, warm and sunny: the best April in recent memory. It turned cold and rainy around the end of the month, however, and this continued for the first week of May. The second week has been quite sunny, with just occasional showers, but it’s still chilly out of the sun. While it would be nice if it weren’t quite so nippy I enjoy being here for the progression from late spring weather to (hopefully!) early summer.
• Apartment.
  • A Happy Home. I’m very comfortable now in my 2014 Paris home. The Saint-Paul neighborhood, and my particular street, are both wonderful. The layout of the apartment works well, with the bedroom on a quiet courtyard and the living room having two sunny windows on a lively — but not noisy — street. The washing machine and wifi are great, I’ve been sleeping like a log, and little details I wanted, such as the desk I’m typing on now, have mostly met expectations. The configuration of toilet/medicine cabinet/tiny sink separate from shower/washing machine/big sink is very unfamiliar but workable, and especially convenient when I’m sharing the apartment with a house guest. Several visitors have helped me appreciate (and enhance!) the apartment’s charms.
  • A Bad First Impression. When I first arrived, however, I had something of an anxiety attack as I discovered the apartment’s deficiencies: stopped up shower drain, broken cabinets, broken dishwasher, curtains falling off their rods, dead flowers in the window boxes, etc. I was afraid I had made a mistake, which would not only impair my own experience but inconvenience the guests who were planning to visit. The two brothers who manage the apartment are brisk, casual and negligent. Over these two weeks I have fixed what I could and badgered them into fixing the most critical defects that I couldn’t resolve myself. The kitchen is still tragic, but functional for breakfast, lunch and munchies for visitors. The drapes are fine now; though it took two weeks to get them fixed they were done when I needed them (for the arrival of my first house guest). I’ve done a lot of cleaning. And the new flower plants have made a world of difference!
  • Observations. My friend Jaffar told me this would happen. He had a similar experience with his current apartment in Cologne: initial shock and eventual contentment. On the one hand, I am happy here now, and I’m confident that my guests will be as well. On the other hand, this apartment is not maintained to an acceptable standard, and I would not rent from this landlord another time. I do accept some responsibility, however. For one thing, I could see in the on-line pictures that the furnishings of this apartment were older and more worn than those in my prior Paris rentals. I consciously allowed the fabulous location and convenient layout to override this concern. Saving money wasn’t a factor for me, but I noticed that the rent for this apartment was nearly 25% less than the one I have rented the past three years, despite a comparable location, so I realized that it must offer less. For another thing, I think I’ve been spoiled by the fact that all of my Paris apartments — except for my first month in 2010 — have been outfitted for use by the owner. Compared with them this place is sad, but compared with what you might expect from a rental apartment it seems more normal. My take-away is that you usually get what you pay for, but also that you are really at the mercy of the apartment manager, a risk that I had not fully appreciated.
• Coffee. All my prior apartment had American-style electric coffee makers. My last apartment also had a Nespresso machine. This apartment only has a French press (which, notwithstanding Jason’s expected joke, the French apparently call une cafetière à piston). I wondered whether I would miss the gadgets, but the French press has been fine, especially since David corrected how I was using it.
• Soundtrack. I almost never watch TV at home, and I haven’t watched TV at all in any of the years I have visited Paris. This is just a matter of habit, not principle. I prefer conversation or reading or surfing the web, when I’m home, to sitting glued to the tube. In Paris this is a mixed blessing, however, since watching TV is a great way to building facility with the language, as well as offering a rich perspective on French culture. All of my apartments have had nice stereo systems as well, and for the first time this year I turned on the radio, and immediately fell in love with Radio Classique, which offers a lovely selection of classical music along with news and occasional interviews. It has become the regular background music for my 2014 stay. June 9 update: I’m still enjoying Radio Classique but I’ve come to perceive its limitations. Not only do they just play old favorites, but usually only the most popular movement. Of course this is nice, but it’s a bit like eating a whole box of bonbons one after another. The fact is that Radio Classique is “easy listening” classical. Easy to listen to indeed, but something of a guilty pleasure.
• Road Trip!  The four-day road trip Normandy and Brittany with my Harvard friend Zhizhong was a first for any of my Paris visits, and it was a wonderful chance to see another part of the country, as well as to get out into the countryside.
• My French Friends. Most of my social contact this visit has been with Zhizhong, and with my cousin Lisa, her daughter Aya, and her partner Ali. They are real friends, who always have time for me. My other French friends have been away or busy or whatever. I do expect to catch up with each of them before the end of my stay, and I’m sure we’ll have some nice meals. But it must be acknowledged that on the whole I haven’t made intense new friendships here. My happiness is fortunately not dependent on this, but the point is notable, and weighs in the balance against the idea of spending even more time here.
• Phone/Internet. In prior years I had to turn off data on my cell phone, and buy a French SIM card for an old GSM phone to use only for texts and local calls. The upshot was that I carried around two phones, which still didn’t add up to the level of service I’m used to at home. Texts and calls on the old phone were fairly cheap, but my account would always run low and I’d have to find a tabac to top it up. Thanks to T-Mobile all those annoyances have been swept away. Their standard plan — which I switched to just before starting my trip — includes unlimited data and texting anywhere in the civilized world, and worldwide phone calls at 20 cents per minute. Data is at 3G speed, but I see absolutely no need to pay extra for 4G. Consequently, this year I carry only my iPhone, I pay nothing extra, and I have unlimited data and texts, as well as reasonably-priced French or U.S. phone calls. It’s a real convenience to have email, web access, Google maps and Google translate at your fingertips, not to mention social media apps.
• Activity. I still wonder whether my activity in Paris will eventually revert to the mean, but so far this year it has been right on the pace I set last year: twice the distance and three times as many flights of stairs.
  The Scarf. I’ve vaguely noticed in prior years that a lot of French people wear scarfs, even when it isn’t cold. It looks a bit precious to American eyes, but once you get used to it someone without a scarf looks odd. So a few days ago I finally bought my first French scarf. The shop clerk — who gave off several signals of being gay — helped me select a suitable scarf and showed me how to tie it. Now I feel like a cool kid!

Bob in Full Parisian Mode