Rain, Rain Go Away!

Tags

crêperie, Eugène, galettes, La Dilettante, La Petite Bretonne, meals, Rue Mouffetard, Tom, weather

Wednesday was another rainy day, so… Wait, are you seeing a pattern here? Yes, June started with two warm and sunny days, then has reverted to the chilly and rainy weather that characterized May. It’s been too cold to leave the windows open! I’ve been tempted a few times to figure out how to turn on the heat! Here’s hoping that the second half of June will be more seasonable.

I mostly blogged on Wednesday, but I did go out for lunch at a well-reviewed local restaurant, L’Agrume. It was really excellent!

Main course for lunch at l’Agrume

As I’ve encountered a few times before there were three appetizers, but when I tried to order one of them the server explained that one got all three! At the end of the meal a French woman at the adjacent table struck up a conversation, in which she confided the fact that this was the best restaurant in the quarter.

That evening was a bit complex. My host, who is traveling in Portugal, arranged for his friend to come by after work to try to get the projection TV working. Then at midnight I planned to join my contemporary book group on video for the discussion of Saul Bellow’s Henderson the Rain King. It seemed too complex to try to organize dinner in between, so I just planned to eat at home. However, Tom texted that his own dinner plan had fallen through, so I invited him over. He helped with the TV issue, then we strolled up rue Mouffetard to forage for food. His initial suggestion was Iranian food, but I said I was planning an Iranian meal for Friday night. Then he proposed a Japanese place, but it was jammed and noisy. So we happily agreed to eat at exactly the same crêperie as last week. We were seated in the identical seats, and we ordered the identical galettes. Why mess with success? After dinner Tom came back to watch something on my new TV. We were stymied at every turn, however, either by geographical issues or password problems! We finally decided to just talk, like in the old days, until he had to leave to let me join my my book group. The next morning I finally did get Netflix working, so I hope we’ll have another opportunity to watch something before I leave.

On Thursday it was rainy again, so I headed for another museum, this time the Maison de la culture du Japon à Paris, which I’ll blog about next. I obediently left my umbrella at the door, but by the time I finished lunch the sun had come out so I predictably forgot it when I left. I eagerly strolled along the Seine picking off some “now” photos for my Then and Now photo set, which pairs historical paintings with what the same place looks like today.

That evening I met Eugène for dinner to celebrate completion of the long essay he has been writing. We ate at a nearby restaurant he didn’t know, La Dilletante. I hadn’t been there either, so it was a bit of a risk, but it had terrific online reviews so we took a chance on it. It was really nice! The staff were young, cheerful and friendly (not always true in Paris!) and the food was very good.

• 

  Eugène with our appetizing appetizers at La Diletantte

• 

  Our appetizing main courses at La Diletantte

At the end of the meal Eugène paid the restaurant a high compliment indeed: he plans to bring his mother there!

There was an amusing moment later in the evening, as we were looking at the web site of L’Opéra de Paris to see whether I might qualify for a senior discount. When I observed that I did seem to be eligible Eugène said, “You’re over sixty-five?” Scrupulously honest though I am, I also operate on a “need to know” basis, so I just said, “Yes.”

Farewells and a New Place in the 2ème

Tags

Ali, apartment, fish, food porn, Lieu Jaune, line-caught fish, Lisa, meals, Montorgueil, rue Montorgueil, Terroirs d'Avenir, weather

After a packed extended weekend it was time for me to slow down the pace. I had a minor stomach ache starting Monday evening and I had fallen a week behind in my blog, so for the next few days I mostly stayed around home and caught up on here. Lisa and Jackie had many missions on their last few days in Paris, so I was often on my own.

Jackie left on Thursday morning. It was really good to spend time with her again this year, and we both feel that our childhood friendship has been rejuvenated. Lisa, Aya and I had our final dinner together (Japanese takeout again) on Thursday night. I have always been “Uncle Bob” to them, so this year was more of the same, but Aya’s (usually) cheerful mood improved our interactions as well as those with her mother and grandmother. Friday was moving day: I helped Lisa and Aya take suitcases over to Ali’s nearby apartment to wait for their early morning flight back to Kampala, then I Uber’ed over to my new apartment in the 2ème. 

My first two weeks in the 15ème paralleled almost exactly the start of last year’s petit séjour, including the same apartment and the same people. I had been aware last year that my cousins were all under various stresses, but I enjoyed myself nevertheless, and felt that it would be fun for me as well as helpful to them to repeat this year. Only after seeing how much happier they each were this year did I realize just how difficult their lives had been in 2018! It was a real pleasure to see each of them having worked their way through to a much better place. I don’t flatter myself that my presence had anything to do with this, but I do think giving the three generations quality time together in Paris was good for all concerned.

The weather in early May in Paris can be nice — it wasn’t bad last year — but more often it’s cold and rainy, as it was for the most part this year. There were sunny moments, but I was never tempted to wear shorts and rarely went outside without a jacket. My strategy before last year was to go somewhere warmer (Italy or the south of France) the first two weeks of May, hoping that the weather would be better when I arrived in Paris. The schedules of my cousins properly determined my schedule these past two years, but if all goes well Lisa will have returned permanently to Paris by next year, so I can go back to my southern strategy.

I normally average 7 miles of walking per day in Paris, well above my Boston average of about 4. In the 15ème this year my average was around 5, which was similar to last year. All three of my cousins also love to walk, but as a group we tended to stay fairly close to home apart from a few major outings. I was also slowed down last week by a stomach bug, and a need to catch up on blogging. I think it should also be acknowledged, however, that the 15ème, while authentically Parisien, doesn’t draw out the flâneur in me as much as more central areas. The streetscapes are typical and a bit predictable, the architecture is sometimes interesting but never really old, and the people themselves seem a bit, well, ordinary. I do love the complete absence — present company excepted — of tourists, but there’s a reason why they don’t go there.

While my mileage was on the low side I scored a home run in the sleep department. I aim for 7 hours a night as measured by my FitBit, which monitors heartbeat to analyze sleep states. I struggle to hit this target at home, especially in the spring, when it gets light earlier and earlier. In the 15ème, however, the sublime quietness of our courtyard and the marvellous effectiveness of the electric room-darkening shades combined to put me out for a full night’s sleep almost every night. I did have to put in ear plugs a few times when the birds started singing at 5 am, but no complaints.

My second apartment is really lovely, and well located near the bottom of rue Montorgueil, which I fell in love with in 2010, at the start of my first long stay. I wanted a bedroom so a friend could stay on the sofabed (or a couple could have the bedroom) but I couldn’t find anything fitting that description in the neighborhood. I “settled” for a two bedroom apartment with a sofa bed and a futon, potentially accommodating up to seven people! I feel a bit silly occupying it alone, but it will get a bit more use when Sherard visits the last week of May.

I took advantage of the excellent food shops along rue Montorgueil to make my “standard meal” from 2010, pan fried fish with haricots verts, fresh bread with olive oil, a salad and half a pastry. It’s like old times!

The fish, line-caught lieu jaune, from the poissonnerie Terroirs d’Avenir, on rue du Nil, was delicious! It was also punishingly expensive, but when I read the mouth watering description on their website I understood why. Follow this link if you read French, but here’s a freely translated excerpt:

Lieu Jaune is line fished by the fishermen of l’île Vierge, Finistère [“Land’s End,” the westernmost point of metropolitan France]. The fish, caught with lures, are lifted alive one by one to the boat, where they are immediately gutted, washed and iced. Single-caught fish do not suffer from excessive handling and are not damaged, and are therefore of remarkable freshness and quality.

Mid-Course

Tags

Alcohol, apartments, Art, Bob Seeman, drinking, food, galette, grêle, hail, L'Equipe Poster, meals, Paris, street art, Theseus, weather

The midpoint of my stay is a good time to look at how the trip has been, and what my goals are for my remaining time here.

The dominant theme of the trip has been — and with the arrival of my nephew next weekend will continue to be — family. While this is very different from prior years, I’ve come to realize, as I explored in my previous post, that time with family and friends, while it dilutes my engagement with the place, can itself be every bit as rewarding as being a solitary flâneur.

The difference shouldn’t be overemphasized, since spending time with friends has always been a facet of my petits séjours. For example, I’ve caught up with Bob Seeman, almost every year.

2018 Lunch at le Rusti with Bob Seeman and fellow doctor Faouzi Madi

Bob and I have known each other for around twenty years, while I’ve known my cousin Jackie since we were children. That makes a difference, but in both cases we’ve had a chance to become intimate friends over a substantial portion of a lifetime. The main difference is that Jackie and I shared an apartment for ten days (and have gotten together several times since), while I normally just catch up with Bob for a meal. That pattern isn’t fundamentally different from prior years, though, since I’ve always had friends staying with me for around a week. It just happens this year that my housemates will mostly be family.

Food has been an important and satisfactory part of the trip, as always. I’ve posted “food porn” from some of my fancier meals — and there’s more to come from Strasbourg — but I’ve also enjoyed more modest meals, either at home with my cousins in the 15ème, or at familiar local restaurants in the 2ème. The dishes shown below are from places just a few doors down on my street, and there are a dozen comparable options within a couple of blocks.

Perfect tuna galette from Delices de la Lune, 38 rue Poissionière

Shrimp noodle dish from Woking, 32 rue Poissionière

The closest thing to an art museum I’ve been to in Paris was the astounding au dela de les limites exhibition, but I’ve visited several galleries and appreciated lots of street art. One resolution is to take in even more art in the latter part of my stay.

Street art in Paris

The gallerist at Galerie Jacques Lévy (very probably the eponymous owner) refused permission for me to post pics, but I invite you to take a look at the works of Olivier Marty currently on view there.

The weather was terrible the day I arrived, then got steadily better over the ten days I spent in the 15ème. About the time I moved to my own place it got wet and cold again and stayed that way for the first week. Last weekend was quite nice in Strasbourg but all afternoon today there have been thunderstorms (with hail!). Update: I enjoyed the dramatic hailstorm from the comfort and safety of my apartment, but I had no idea that elsewhere in the city there was flooding and dense accumulations of hailstones on the streets!

My French is pretty much stalled, but I nevertheless enjoy deciphering cultural references and picking up on jeux de mots.

« Aïe ou hante English » (Hint: say it out loud.)

« Mais oui tu es beau ! » More or less…

This poster in the métro is a veritable mine of up-to-the-minute cultural information. I can more or less parse out most of the links, but I’m sure I’m missing many funny references.

A chart demonstrating that basically everything points to a sport, and all sports point to L’Equipe magazine.

The handwriting that looks like graffiti is actually part of the joke. For example: “mamie Ginette is sweet. She makes us cookies. But one doesn’t much like it when she kisses us on the cheeks because she scratches.”

I didn’t walk quite as much as usual during the first part of the month, in part because you simply can’t move that fast when you’re traveling with a four-year-old (even when she’s on a scooter). But Zhizhong and I walked all over Strasbourg, so when that’s factored in I’m now right at my usual Paris average of seven miles a day.

Alcohol has always been a substantial part of my Paris stays, but this year my consumption has been a lot less than usual. Jackie, Zhizhong and “Theseus” don’t drink at all, and as a mother of a young child Lisa now drinks even more moderately than before. I’ve usually managed a glass of wine or beer with dinner, and sometimes found an excuse for an extra drink, but have only once or twice exceeded the approved level of two drinks a day (which was occasionally exceeded many times over in prior years). It’s still possible that I may fall under the influence of hard-drinking family or friends, but so far I’ve been surprisingly sober.

I’ve often met guys on “social media” apps during my stays here. Two years ago, the last time I was here, Omar made an outstanding contribution to my visit. This year I’ve only met one guy, who I’ll call Theseus. He’s a 22-year-old student, of Chinese ethnicity, very fit and cute. He’s been my dining companion on several occasions where the blog has mentioned a “we” without a name. He’s forbidden me to post his photo or further information, and this is only one of several mismatches between our values and goals. He’s been an attractive and mostly agreeable companion on several occasions, despite our really irreconcilable differences.

Overall I’ve had a good time this year. Both apartments have been wonderful, despite the minor issues with my current place. The shift from adventure to coziness has continued, but there have been a few peak experiences and many rich and intimate conversations.

June 11, when I leave, will be my earliest departure since the first year, 2010, when I stayed for April and May. So many cool things are scheduled for the remainder of June that I looked into extending my stay another two weeks. Changing my Delta/Air France ticket would be punishingly expensive but abandoning that reservation and coming home on a one-way Norwegian ticket would be reasonable. My current host would let me extend at the discounted monthly rate until June 20, but she has other guests then so I would have to get another place for the last week. Ultimately, however, responsibilities and opportunities back home caused me to stick with the original schedule. Another year, however, I will stay at least until afterla fête de la musiqueon June 21, and perhaps through Paris gay pride, this year on June 30.

Mot du jour: beue. Not in Larousse, but Google shows it as patois picard for boue, i.e. mud.

Bonus Mot du jour: grêle, hail.

Champagne

Tags

apartments, Brian, caves, champagne, Cheryl, lees, Moët et Chandon, Moët et Chandon Champagne, Montorgueil, Rick, rue des petits carreaux, Saints de Glace, Sheila, weather, wine cellars

My cousin Brian, his wife Sheila, and their friends Rick and Cheryl had organized a wine tasting trip for early this week. It was a guided tour of the Champagne region, an hour and a half east of Paris.

I had never been to Champagne in all my visits to France. As you might expect, it’s lovely, even on a rainy day.

I jumped at the invitation to join them, which included a cooked breakfast at Rick and Cheryl’s lovely three-bedroom apartment on rue des Petits Carreaux, just a couple of blocks from my place.

The living room of Rick and Cheryl’s gorgeous apartment on rue des Petits Carreaux. Not that I’m jealous or anything…

The five of us had met in Paris three years before, when we had gone on a memorable Alfred Sisley Pilgrimage. Both couples were then staying in hotels, and they were impressed by my one-bedroom apartment on rue des Jeûneurs, and by the petits séjours in Paris I had been making for a month or so each spring. Rick and Cheryl kindly credited me with having inspired them to rent their really beautiful apartment, with enough space to invite friends — such as Brian and Sheila — to stay with them.

Our first stop was at a small family winery, making six varieties of champagne, most of which we tasted and several of which we bought.

Our host was Sebastian, the fifth generation of the family of champagne makers

When I complimented our host on this label he said he is replacing it with a metal one to project an even more luxe image.

After paying our respects to Dom Perignon‘s grave we visited the impressive winery and caves of Moët et Chandon (you pronounce the t, I learned, because Moët is Dutch). The wine-aging caves are truly labyrinthine. A plaque says that Napoleon I visited in 1807!

Dom Perignon’s grave (on the left). He didn’t invent champagne but he made many improvements in the process.

Moët et Chandon’s winery exudes luxury

Moët et Chandon’s aging caves.

Moët et Chandon’s aging caves.

I had been aware that champagne had to be “disgorged” after aging to remove the lees (fermentation remnants). I didn’t appreciate, however, how complex and delicate this process is: Daily tilting and rotating process over a period of weeks works the lees from the side of the bottle into the neck. The lees then must be blown out of the bottle without losing too much champagne, the bottle must be topped up with replacement champagne and sugar water (for sweetness, not fermentation), then given the final cork, all within a matter of seconds to avoid losing too much carbonation. The traditional method is for a skilled vintner to do this, but large producers like Moët now typically freeze the neck of the bottle so the lees pop out in an ice cube rather than a gush. Most champagnes are capped during aging with a simple metal cap but Dom Perignon, which is aged for ten years, is aged with a cork because a metal cap might not last.

Bottles of Dom Perignon being aged with corks. Moët et Chandon makes Dom Perignon as a separate brand. They purchased the vineyards he traditionally used but otherwise have nothing to do with him.

The high point of a wine tasting is of course the tasting. Just one glass of Moët & Chandon, but it was delicious.

Sheila, Cheryl and Bob enjoying their taste of Moët & Chandon

Available in all sizes!

Update: Here’s a Google photo set with full-sized versions of all my photos from our Champagne day trip: Champagne Day Trip

Mot du jour: Saints de Glace (literally, “Saints of Ice”).  When we commented on the cold and wet weather we had been having for several days our guide said that it is common for there to be a cold snap of a few days in mid-May. Traditionally three saints with holy days in the period are asked to protect farmers from freezing temperatures that would kill their crops. There had been snow at high elevations in France a couple of days before but Champagne was mercifully free of ice during our visit.

My New Home

Tags

Andy, apartments, Montorgueil, moonrise, Paris, rue Montorgueil, weather

On one occasion I was able to rent the same place — on the corner of rue Montorgueil and rue Saint Sauveur — for three years in a row. But every other year I’ve had to rent a new place because my previous apartments were no longer available. Consistency is the one real benefit of buying something here, but far outweighed by other factors.

This year’s apartment has some terrific advantages and a few distinct drawbacks, most of which I was aware of when I decided to reserve it.

The location is basically perfect: just a few blocks above rue Montorgueil, on the same physical street. Unlike prior places I’m not under continual surveillance by fabric porters, or forced to walk by a row of prostitutes to get to the nearest métro. The immediate neighborhood is profoundly quiet at night; while I loved the energy of being right on rue Montorgueil the cheerful noise of eating and drinking ran late into the night, especially on weekends.

The most remarkable benefit of this place is the light and air. Four large windows face east and four smaller skylights face west, so on a bright day I get direct sunshine all day long. By opening opposing windows I can get as much through ventilation as I want.

Morning sun

Afternoon sun

Cosy (if a tad kitschy) decor

Apart from the view onto rue Montorgueil, which was a mixed blessing, this apartment has the loveliest view of anywhere I’ve rented.

The charming view

A couple more pics out the windows from later in my stay:

Storm clouds and blue sky on the courtyard side

The moon rising across the street, from a roof window

The apartment is also one of the largest I’ve rented, and it has exposed beams which you only see in older buildings. This place has an elevator up four of the five flights, which I prefer for this level although I’m equally happy to live up three flights of stairs without an elevator.

This place does have a few drawbacks:

• The kitchen and bathroom fixtures haven’t been updated in decades. They work, but show their age.
• The hot water pressure in the shower is a trickle, and I’m told that nothing can be done about it. This isn’t a big issue for people who are used to camping out, like me and my nephew Andy (who will be visiting in a couple of weeks) but it could come as quite a shock to someone used to a reasonable quality hotel.
• The apartment is at the top of the building, so will be an oven in hot weather. This is mitigated somewhat by the excellent through ventilation, but my hope is that the weather will stay mild until I leave, in the second week of June. (Air conditioning is rare and inordinately expensive in Paris rental apartments.)
• There’s a school yard on the east side. It isn’t visible, but from 8:20 am to as late as 6 pm on school days the happy sound of children playing is almost continuous. I haven’t found this too annoying, and I have ear plugs and noise-cancelling headphones if necessary. I’m normally out and about in the daytime, however, and it’s beautifully quiet at night, when it’s more important.

Overall, I’m very happy here, and as long as the hot water doesn’t stop altogether, and we don’t get a heat wave, I think this will be a fully satisfactory home away from home.

Update: One additional drawback of the apartment has been definitively fixed, although it was eye-opening. From my arrival I noticed a sour smell in parts of the kitchen. It took a few days to decide that it was the odorant added to residential natural gas (THT) coming from somewhere near the gas meter. I messaged my host about this but she assured me that it was just a by-product of combustion interacting with air pollution. I was skeptical so I mixed up some soapy water and daubed it on the suspect junction, on the supply side of the meter. Bubbles immediately appeared, showing a rather fast gas leak. The leak was promptly fixed by a City of Paris professional and I have had no further problems. Ventilation in the apartment is so amazing that there was never a risk of explosion (or dying in my sleep!) but this reminds one of the need to be observant, and persistent.

Update: When you stay in a hotel you are shielded from the practicalities of managing an apartment, but when you rent for a month or more you encounter a variety of curious things. Three years ago I had to keep leaving the key with a neighbor to allow various mysterious processes to take place in my apartment while I was out and about. Early in this year’s stay I had a visitation by a team of three electrical engineers, who poked around in the electrical box. Then (unrelated I think) my landlord informed me that the electricity in the entire building would be out from 8:30 am to 5 pm on a particular day. I organized for this but in the event there was an electrician’s strike and it was rescheduled for a few days later, when the work finally got done. Most curiously, just now, I was working at my laptop in my sleeping shorts and two rough-hewn guys called out from the hall window. They said they needed to get onto the roof from my apartment in order to secure a window in the adjacent apartment that had been broken by a fallen antenna. I was a bit dubious about this until the landlord, who lives in the apartment below, stuck his head out his window, verified their bona fides, then came up to supervise while they climbed out the window and did their work. My nephew Andy had left early that morning; if he were still there it would have been quite a little impromptu get-together!

Friends and Family

Tags

Arooshee, Art, Aya, contemporary art, Jackie, Lisa, Metro, Parc des Buttes-Chaumont, Parc Zoologique de Paris, Paris, Rosa Bonheur, temple de la Sibylle, weather, zoo

The gorgeous weather has continued: sunny and warm during the day and pleasantly cool at night. One of the best runs of fine weather of any of my Paris stays! The rhythm and energy of our household has been the main theme, except for Sunday afternoon, when I went my own way.

On Friday Lisa and Aya visited friends so Jackie and I had dinner at a Lebanese restaurant which I found on The Fork — with a 50% discount! It was about a mile away but we both enjoy walking so we strolled over and back. Not only did we get a good meal but we took home enough leftovers for Saturday lunch, after which we checked out the Salon de Montrouge, an annual contemporary art show that I have enjoyed in prior years. It was about half the size of the 2016 exhibition, but enough art for the time and energy we had.

Jackie and Bob reflected in “Your Infinity” by Roland Burkart at the 2018 Salon de Montrouge

That evening we hosted Ali for dinner. Lisa and I had seen him on several casual occasions this trip, but it was a particular pleasure to join him for a proper event. Our conversation was trenchant and engaging as always!

Bob, Ali, Aya and Lisa at our dinner party. Photo credit, Jackie.

The fruit tart which I slaved over a hot cash register for several minutes to acquire.

Sunday was so lovely that I took the métro up to the Parc des Buttes-Chaumont, one of my favorite spots in fine weather. The trip was from one corner of Paris to the other, so it required three subway legs. The last one, on the funny little 7 bis line, was the most amusing, since almost everyone was more or less obviously heading for the same place.

Sunbathers enjoying a perfect day at the Parc des Buttes-Chaumont

Bob at The Temple de la Sibylle, in the Parc des Buttes-Chaumont

Exploring the park was thirsty work, so I stopped by Rosa Bonheur for a beer (or two). As always on a fine Sunday afternoon, the always-mixed crowed tilted in a decidedly gay male direction by 4 pm, when the barriers went up to limit the size of the crowd. I have sometimes had wonderful conversations there, but it’s hit or miss and this afternoon I was more of a sightseer than a participant.

Boys, and girls, on a Sunday afternoon at Rosa Bonheur

Through a mutual friend I had met Arooshee, a junior at University of Michigan who is finishing a semester in Paris. We met that evening for dinner, at Phở 14 in the 13ème, with her college roommate, who had just arrived to join her on a whirlwind European tour.

Dinner in the 13ème at Phở 14

Jackie had business to attend to on Monday, so Lisa and Aya and I went over to the fully modernized little zoo in the Parc de Vincennes. The highlight for Aya was the lions, and by happy chance she was able to turn into one herself!

The zoo features big outdoor enclosures that allow the larger animals to roam around, rather than being confined in cages. I heartily approve, although this can also make it hard to get good photos. As it happened, Aya was more interested in an indoor giraffe than the fourteen others that were outside.

Over the next two days we will wrap up our stay together in the 15ème and I will move to my own Airbnb in the 2ème. While I’ll be living alone for a while plans are afoot with Zhizhong and with my cousin Brian and his wife Sheila, so I won’t be lonely.

Family and Friends

Tags

Aya, Bains-Douches, Jackie, l'Oasis d'Aboukir, Lisa, Marais, meals, Oasis d'Aboukir, Paris, rue Montorgueil, weather

The weather has been sunny and less chilly these past few days. We’ve taken lovely walks, enjoyed the nearby park, and eaten most of our restaurant meals a la terrasse.

Lisa and me enjoying an afternoon glass of rosé on our way to the nearest shopping mall.

We had chosen a perfectly random café — L’Argument — but it proved to be quite satisfactory.

Poké salad at L’Argument

Where, you ask, is my Jungle Jim sun hat? Someone else tried it on for size…

Aya trying out Uncle Bob’s silly hat

Our big adventure the day before had been the local park, which was jammed with kids since it was their school holiday. A highlight for Aya was scaling this really challenging climbing rock. At four years old I was nowhere near as brave!

Aya atop an impressive climbing rock

Friday afternoon Lisa and Aya visited friends so I had lunch with my Harvard friend Elliot, at his neighborhood Moroccan restaurant Le Berbere.

Lunch with Elliot Marks at Le Berbere.

He’ll be in the U.S. for most of my stay — part of the time in Boston — but we plan to catch up once again just before I leave Paris. Unfortunately, I’ll miss the Harvard LGBT alumni event by just a few days, along with many other events in the latter part of June. I looked into extending my stay but at this point changing my flights would be punishingly expensive. And yes, Boston isn’t a bad place to be either in the summertime.

After lunch I strolled over to the Marais with Elliot, then wandered up to my favorite quarter, rue Montorgueil, where I will be living for most of this year’s stay. The impressive vegetative wall that I have watched grow year by year — L’Oasis d’Aboukir — was getting a trim.

L’Oasis d’Aboukir getting a trim.

I met up with Jackie for dinner at a Lebanese place about a kilometer from our apartment, and noticed this historic building on our walk back home.

Public bath house, for people of an earlier era without bathing facilities at home. Now fortunately an anachronism.

I’ve been walking about five miles a day so far this trip, but on Friday I broke ten miles so hopefully I’ll end up with my usual Paris average of about seven miles a day.

En Famille

Tags

Ali, apartment, Aya, bis, Jackie, Lisa, May Day, meals, neighborhoods, Paris, quater, ter, Virgule, weather, Zhizhong

The unique feature of this year’s petit séjour is that the first part is en famille. I’m staying for ten days in the 15ème arrondissement with my first cousin Jackie, her daughter Lisa and Lisa’s four-year-old daughter Aya.

Jackie, Aya and Lisa in our intensively furnished Airbnb in the 15ème

Our apartment is lovely, well-designed and filled with light. It’s also filled with a fascinating collection of bric-a-brac. The location is safe and quiet, well served with grocery stores and boulangeries, albeit completely lacking in anything that might interest a tourist (I haven’t noticed one since I’ve been here). We chose the area to be close to our friend — Lisa’s former partner — Ali. I’ll move to central Paris next week, but I have to admit that living here is perfectly pleasant, and perfectly Parisien.

The day I arrived the weather was dreadful, cold, windy and rainy. The flight was early but there was a SNAFU. The plane landed in the distant reaches of Charles de Gaulle airport, and the five buses sent to take us to the terminal left me behind, along with two dozen other passengers (and the entire crew). We waited for ten minutes or so on the freezing exit steps until the crew invited us back into the plane, where it was at least half an hour more before a sixth bus finally arrived to rescue us.

The was also a SNAFU concerning the address. Lisa had correctly told me that our building was at « 15 quater, rue A___ B____. ». I didn’t know what to make of quater, which isn’t in my Larousse, so I ignored it … to my sorrow! I was well acquainted with 15 bis, which means a second entry with the same number, somewhat like 15A. And I congratulated myself on having also encountered the enigmatic ter, which would in America be 15B. But Lisa had to explain by telephone, after the door code didn’t work at 15, that quater is yet another entry beyond ter!

15	15 Bis
15 Ter	15 Quater

After quater I personally give up but for the curious I offer this link. Jackie called me with the same problem when she arrived later in the day. I’m afraid I was laughing too hard to be properly sympathetic!  2019 Update: So far absolutely everyone (except one Uber driver) has been confused by Quater the first time they visit, even when we’ve tried to explain it beforehand.

One of the peak experiences my first year in Paris — 2010 — was a walk across half the city with Lisa on May Day. We planned my arrival to allow us to take another May Day walk, adjusting gracefully to the changed route of the march and the inclusion of my new hyper-radical first-cousin-twice-removed Aya. Luckily, the weather was much improved, so we had a delightful walk, after a longer bus ride than we had expected. We arrived at Place d’Italie a bit after the main demonstration, but still managed to borrow a red flag for a classic photo op.

Aya waving the Socialist banner to demand equal rights for all!

Zhizhong was busy at work that afternoon — on a jour férié ?!! — but he joined us later for a lovely reunion dinner, at Virgule, near Place d’Italie.

Jackie, Lisa, Aya, Bob and Zhizhong at our May Day dinner.

The adventure in dining begins!

That afternoon we noticed some curious posters, for another demonstration next Saturday.

Google Translate explains that la fête à Macron means “the party in [President] Macron.” Sounds like fun!

Mot du jour: faire la fête à, to beat up.

Fête, Parks and Art

Tags

10ème arrondissement, Art, Ayoung Kim, Bart van der Leck, Caminito, Canal Saint-Martin, Délices de la Lune, Doanier Rousseau, Fashion Week, Fashion week models, Fête de la musique, France, Henri Rousseau, In This Vessel We Shall be Kept, Jacques Grinberg, Jane Café, La Baraque A, Le Petit paysan en bleu, Les Nymphéas, Marais, meals, Men's Fashion Week, models, Monet's Water Lillies, Musée d'Art moderne de la Ville de Paris, Musee d'Orsay, Palais de Tokyo, Parc Montsouris, Parc Sainte-Périne, Paris, Paris Fashion Week, Paula Modersohn-Becker, Seurat, water lillies, weather

Tuesday was June 21, the Fête de la musique, a summer solstice street festival that’s a big deal in Paris and some other francophone countries. I have had a good time at the festival since I first stumbled on it in 2011, including barhopping with Jared W, Geoff and Hugues in 2013 and doing it on my own in 2014, with the most amazing time being last year (2015) when I enjoyed it with Sawyer and Seth.

This year I was on my own again. Instead of focusing on the Marais, as in prior years, I decided to stroll over to the 10ème arrondissement, around the Canal Saint-Martin, to see what the festival was like over there. La Baraque A is a mild-mannered coffee shop the rest of the year, but it hosts an electronic dance party for the Fête. The music was just starting up when I arrived so I had a beer on the terrace of a café, then strolled further on.

La Baraque A hosts a dance party at la Fête de la Musique

When I looped back later it had become quite a scene: La Baraque A Dance Party in Full Swing.

There were similar crowds outside restaurants and bars all around the quarter, in each case racially mixed, often multi-age, but with a consistently lefty/hip/hippie vibe. I didn’t notice much of a Muslim presence, and I suspect that this is the Achilles heel in the “melting pot” character of the neighborhood.

Blues at Jane Café in the 10ème on la Fête de la musique

I found the 10ème quite sympa, and I would consider staying there another year. But after a couple of hours on my own I headed home and got a good night’s sleep instead of partying until dawn.

When I got to Paris this year I noticed a new restaurant on rue des Petits Carreaux, Caminito, an Argentine bistro. I passed it by initially since South American cuisine is largely red meat, which I try to avoid.

Caminito on rue des Petits Carreaux in the Village Montorgueil

But on Wednesday I noticed that the plat du jour was fish so I had lunch there, which I quite enjoyed.

Pollock lunch at Caminito

That afternoon I headed out to find a park to do some reading in. I first went to a completely new area, Parc Sainte-Périne in the 16ème, but it just seemed like an enormous playground. Great for bourgeois kids but not inviting to an adult reader. Disappointed in my exploration I hopped the tram over to tried-and-true Parc Montsouris in the 14ème. I had brought an umbrella just in case and found that I needed it at times even though there were also welcome intervals of sunshine. This year’s summer started out looking a lot like its spring!

Rainy moment at Parc Montsouris

Raindrops on a rose at Parc Montsouris

The temperature had gotten up to 80 on Wednesday and on Thursday it was actually hot for the first time this year — high 80’s! Instead of sunbathing my thoughts turned to air-conditioning, so I decided to check some museums off my list. I had expected to visit the Musée d’Orsay a few weeks earlier with Sherard, but the Great Flood of 2016 put paid to that idea. Consequently, I headed over to see the Doanier Rousseau exhibition, and revisit the permanent collection. The title refers to the fact that Henri Rousseau started painting as a weekend hobby while working as a customs agent. I was mostly familiar with a few of his weird jungle scenes, and an iconic image of a family in a carriage.

I hadn’t realized, however, that he was self-taught, and was (initially at least) more of a folk painter than a professional artist. His portraits have that weird quality of looking straight out at you that you see in the works of American folk artists. He did have a good eye for color and could put paint on the canvas, but those skills alone wouldn’t have gotten him anywhere. What made his reputation was the weird and wonderful imagination that populated his jungle pictures. He never left Paris but had a rich vision of a fecund and brutal imaginary world.

The permanent collection of the Musée d’Orsay is always a delight, especially the impressionists on the 5th floor. I always notice something I hadn’t appreciated before, in this case a blurry little portrait by Seurat:

Georges Seurat, Le Petit paysan en bleu, dit aussi Le Jockey, around 1882 at Musée d’Orsay

I was also reminded of the fact that real people can be at least as fabulous as those depicted in the artworks.

Real person at the Musée d’Orsay

The Orsay admission also includes the Orangerie museum in the Tuileries, so I walked over there and revisited Monet’s two immersive waterlily rooms, as well as the impressive impressionist and post-impressionist collection on the lower level.

Monet, Les Nymphéas (water lillies) at l’Orangerie museum

Monet, Les Nymphéas (water lillies) at l’Orangerie museum

One observation I’ve often made about the finest impressionist art is that you can appreciate most any small section of brushwork as an abstraction as well as enjoying the entire work from a distance. I finally got around to posting a photo set putting forward this idea: Impressionism Far and Near

Thursday evening I had a Breton meal at an old favorite, Délices de la Lune on rue Poissonnière. (I was surprised to see that the Fork offers a 40% discount for advance bookings. This seems like gilding the lily since their prices are so modest anyway!)

On Friday I decided to check out the new shows at the edgy contemporary art museum, Palais de Tokyo, which I have sometimes loved and sometimes loathed. Although I liked several of the shows I saw there in mid-May the current crop left me stone cold, except for a few individual pieces and a wonderful sonic work by Ayoung Kim called “In This Vessel We Shall be Kept”. The concept of the work is crazy but remarkable: We are asked to take refuge in an ark against another great flood, but the ark in question is the Palais Garnier!

Ayoung Kim, “In This Vessel We Shall be Kept” (detail)

There are some graphics explaining this conceit and giving the text of an immersive choral performance, which is the heart of the work. These texts are from various sources, including the Epic of Gilgamesh, the Bible and the Koran, which all exhort a chosen few to build an ark to survive a flood. You experience the choral work in a comfortable seat in a dark room, surrounded by eight speakers. I posted a clip to give you a taste, but you need to hear it for yourself!

As in prior years, I stumbled on some Fashion Week models at Palais de Tokyo; cute and emaciated as always, but this year with strikingly kookie hairdos.

Models at Palais de Tokyo

Model at Palais de Tokyo

Since it’s right there and free (except for the temporary shows) I also stopped in to the Musée d’Art Moderne de la Ville de Paris. I ended up paying for two of the shows, which were both pretty good: Paula Modersohn-Becker and Albert Marquet. Modersohn-Becker’s early portraits had a naive aspect reminiscent of Henri Rousseau, but her skills advanced rapidly, until her untimely death. Photos aren’t permitted in the shows, but I noticed this grisly little picture in the permanent collection, which is quite good even though overshadowed by the Pompidou.

Jacques Grinberg, l’Enfant (the child), around 1963, at the Musée d’Art Moderne de la Ville de Paris

And this eerie group scene:

Bart van der Leck, Au Marché, 1913, at the Musée d’Art Moderne de la Ville de Paris

On My Own Again

Tags

Aarchna, Art, banlieue, Belleville, clouds, Danube, Eiffel Tower, flâneur, France, Il faut se méfier des mots, Ivy covered cottage, Jordain, Kristoffer, la Mouzaïa, Nausicaa Favart Amouroux, One must mistrust words, Opéra, Opéra Garnier, Parc des Buttes-Chaumont, Paris, Pré Saint-Gervais, quartier d’Amérique, Rosa Bonheur, rue de Belleville, rue de Crimée, rue du Télégraph, semaphore, Télégraph, Un Tapis de Poésie, villas, Water towers, weather

On Sunday morning I saw Kristoffer off on the Roissybus at Opéra. The ticket machine at the bus stop was broken but he was able to buy a ticket from the driver (since he had prudently saved 11 euros in cash).

Opéra Garnier looking lovely, in a rare moment of sunshine

Paradoxically, you have to stand at a traffic island in the middle of rue de l’Opéra, where the sides are blocked by other buildings, to see the full dome, and the pitched roof over the main theater.

In prior years I’ve just sent departing guests out the door with detailed instructions, but a Boston friend has taught me how nice it is to see someone off. This is especially true when I’ve been handling navigation issues for my guest while we’ve been together, so he may not have gotten particularly comfortable with the métro, etc. How I have remained oblivious to this all these years is a mystery, but it’s not too late to teach this old dog a new trick! (Though note that I didn’t go all the way to the airport and back; let’s not get carried away here!)

This year’s sojourn has been very sociable. A series of old and new friends have stayed with me for several days each: Jared R, Sherard, Omar and Kristoffer, and I’ve spent a lot of time with other visiting friends, including Jared W, CN and Arturo. As in other years I’ve seen a lot of Zhizhong, and I’ve started catching up with other French friends as well. Earlier in the trip I stayed with Charlie and Markevin near Toulouse and spent a couple of afternoons with Grégory in Bordeaux, not to mention my new Korean friends. This has been great fun, but it has also left me with less alone time than in prior years, and has greatly changed the blogging dynamic. From a discipline that I followed (almost) every evening in 2010 it has become a binge project that gets a week or two behind, then takes me a day or two to catch up! All a long way of saying that it’s different, but quite OK, to now spend a few days alone.

Sunday afternoon I headed over to Rosa Bonheur for old time’s sake. The weather has continued to be a mix of sun and rain, but there was a pretty good crowd on the terrasse. I didn’t get into any deep conversations but I did exchange a few nice words with a young woman who was there with her young son and older mother.

Rosa Bonheur, finally open and busy

After finishing my beer I strolled over to the area of little “Villas” to the west of the Park des Buttes Chaumont, which I now see is called la Mouzaïa or the quartier d’Amérique. I added a few shots to my Picasa/Google photo set on la Mouzaïa then continued on to see some of the open studios in an area I had not previously visited, the city of Pré Saint-Gervais, a banlieue!

As usual there was a lot of so-so art, but I really liked several pieces by Nausicaa Favart-Amouroux.

Painting by Nausicaa Favart Amouroux

I also enjoyed a poetry reading accompanied by violin at Un Tapis de Poésie.

Pré Saint-Gervais itself seemed to have something of a Turkish tilt, but otherwise seemed quite Parisian and not scary, except for an abandoned building, covered with graffiti.

Scary abandoned building covered with grafitti in a banlieue!

Somewhat less scary in the context of its spanking new neighbors

I had actually encountered a scarier scene earlier within the city limits at Danube.

Bucolic scene at Danube. Oh, wait…

I had a nice Indian dinner at Aarchna, on rue du Télégraph back in Belleville. I was interested to learn that the « télégraph » was actually one of the earliest lines of visual semaphores, which in 1794 allowed a message to be transmitted from Paris to Lille in three hours that previously took three days on horseback. That’s why it was placed on the highest hill in Paris, also why there are now water towers on the same spot.

Water towers on rue du Télégraph

After dinner I walked down rue de Bellevile as the sun went down (around 10 pm!). Here are a few atmospheric pictures from my day as a lone flâneur.

Ivy-covered cottage on rue de Crimée, near sketchy Place des Fêtes

“Beware of words.”

Doorway at Jordain, rue de Belleville

The other Paris: the Eiffel tower from rue de Belleville

Lovely clouds behind a dome on rue Réumur

All day Monday and Tuesday morning I did literally nothing but catch up on my blog. Enjoy!

Mot du jour: banlieue, literally, “suburb,” but many of the inner ring of cities just outside Paris are ethnic, depressed and at times dangerous so in France the term has a sketchy resonance.