Spring in Paris

~ My sojourns in France, 2010-2016

Spring in Paris

Tag Archives: Canal Saint-Denis

Last Weekend

27 Monday Jun 2016

Posted by Robert Mack in art, Experiences, Musings, Photos

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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.

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

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

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

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

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

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 in sketchy banlieue elevator

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

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

Bob and Guillaume contemplating 16mm, 2015 by Nicholas Delprat

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, in Saint-Denis

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

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

“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.

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

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

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Shopping, Heat and Rain

09 Monday Jun 2014

Posted by Robert Mack in Experiences, Photos

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Aubervilliers, éclair de chaleur, bob, Breizh Café, Canal Saint-Denis, Eastern Boys, heat lightning, La Perla, Le Millénaire, Marais, meals, percement sauvage, rue du Trésor

After my visit to Centquatre on Saturday I headed towards the Bassin de la Villette, but was distracted by a sign offering a free boat trip on the Canal Saint-Denis to something called Le Millénaire.  What good flâneur could resist? It proved to be an enormous shopping mall in the adjacent suburb of Aubervilliers.

Le Millénaire shopping center at Aubervilliers, just outside the northeast corner of Paris.

Le Millénaire shopping center at Aubervilliers, just outside the northeast corner of Paris.

I had no interest in shopping, but I was impressed by the completely different Paris that is growing up on the outskirts of its historic center.

Detail of a new building in the Millénaire complex at Aubervilliers, just outside the northeast corner of Paris.

Detail of a new building in the Millénaire complex at Aubervilliers, just outside the northeast corner of Paris.

On Saturday night I saw a gay-themed French film that Alexis had highly recommended: Eastern Boys. I was impressed and moved by it, and am still turning aspects of it over in my mind. It starts with a relatively banal pickup in Gare du Nord, then takes a predictable dramatic turn, then takes a series of turns that are perfectly consistent with what we’ve seen but that I challenge any viewer to anticipate. By the end I found it a remarkable meditation on sex and love, even though in real life the story would very probably have had one of many other tragic and sordid endings.

On Sunday morning I met up with Zhizhong for lunch at Breizh Café in the 3e. Breizh is Breton for Brittany, so I wasn’t surprised to find the galettes and crêpes to be authentic and delicious.

Zhizhong with our galettes at Breizh Café in the 3e.

Zhizhong with our galettes at Breizh Café in the 3e.

The dining experience was good, even though the other diners were mostly tourists. The restaurant has two other branches, Cancale (in the heart of Brittany) and Tokyo (um, not).

After lunch I took Zhizhong down to the end of rue du Trésor to see the dreadful percement sauvage (barbarous hole) that has defiled it for the past several years.

Percement sauvage at the end of rue du Trésor in the Marais.

Percement sauvage at the end of rue du Trésor in the Marais. (night shot)

An American couple overheard my explanation and told us that they have been fighting it for years. We ended up exchanging email addresses and I just sent them the link to the site where I learned about the issue.

Zhizhong then gave me a guided tour of the trendy clothing shops of the Marais. My idea had been to open my wallet and buy one proper French outfit. Though my U.S. shirt size is medium I was braced for the fact that I would be extra large here. We did indeed see some beautiful clothes but I’m afraid that my Yankee frugality prevented me from spending $250 on a shirt, even quite a nice one. And when I got close to pulling the trigger I was discouraged by the fact that the shirts here aren’t wrinkle resistent, so would end up in my pile of clothes to be ironed — someday.

Note to self:  When a friendly shop clerk appears to say, “You are soft” (Vous êtes doux), in fact he’s probably saying, “Where are you from?” (Vous êtes d’oû?).

By this point it had gotten really hot! We strolled over to the Place des Vosges and enjoyed a couple of rather expensive ice creams on a shady park bench. After a deep conversation about work, life and love we came back to my place for several glasses of sparkling water, then wrapped up the day with a perfectly ok quasi-Mexican dinner at La Perla. As so often happens in Paris, the other diners were at least as scrumptious as the meal.

At 1 am I was awakened by strange flashes of light. It was heat lightning (éclairs de chaleur), so far away that thunder was barely audible. I took a short video clip out my living room window of the way these flashes illuminated the buildings across the street: Heat Lightning in Paris. At two points you can see the beacon from the top of the Eiffel Tower sweeping across the sky. Half an hour later the storm arrived, with torrential rain and large, noisy hailstones. A fitting end to a day of near-tropical heat!

Mot du jour: bob. I was amused to learn that the floppy sun hat I wear (at the insistence of my dermatologist) is called a bob.

Bob portant son bob.

Bob portant son bob. (from 2013)

This type of hat was introduced to France by American servicemen during WWII. Since G.I.s were then called “Roberts,” the hats came to be called “bobs.”

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