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.

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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

Two Parisian Evenings

Tags

apartment, France, Jared, Lemon, meals, Montorgueil, Paris, puit d'amour, rue Montorgueil, Sherard, Stohrer, Zhizhong

Sherard and I understandably got a slow start on Saturday morning, after our big Friday night. We caught up with Jared W and one of his friends for lunch at Lemon, the new Icelandic place I had eaten at a few weeks before. We enjoyed our pocket sandwiches and juice drinks but like last time the service, while friendly, seemed unduly slow and disorganized.

After lunch I introduced Jared W and his friend to Stohrer on rue Montorgueil, which was an instant hit! The bakery/deli is one of the oldest in Paris, having been founded in 1730.

Jared W and friend with their first puits d’amour (wells of love) from Stohrer on rue Montorgueil

That afternoon Sherard went shopping while I did some reading and blogging. At 4 pm we joined Jared R and Steve, the other two members of our book group, for a transatlantic meeting on Skype to discuss the second half of the Pulitzer-prize-winning book Middlesex, which we all liked. Jared R was thrilled to see us at the apartment where he had spent several happy days the previous week, and Sherard and I enjoyed a tour of Steve’s new house.

When Sherard and I first planned the trip I had gotten tickets to the Paris Opera for a performance of La Traviata. This had seemed like a good idea at the time and Sherard had viewed a version with English subtitles to prepare. As it worked out, however, he was too tired, so I invited Zhizhong instead. We both enjoyed it, and were surprised that the three-hour performance seemed to fly by. As it turned out there were both French and English surtitles.

Zhizhong and me at La Traviata

I was surprised to see that there was a 30 minute intermission after the first few scenes, then a shorter intermission later on. This made perfect sense, however, when we realized that a light supper was on offer at fairly reasonable prices. Since neither of us had eaten before this was a godsend.

I was sorry Sherard couldn’t attend but he really did need a serious nap. He woke up hungry around 9 pm and set off towards the Gare du Nord to find something to eat. (Not the direction I would have recommended, but it worked out great.) He got into a conversation in a café with a couple of guys who turned out to be gay. They invited him home, served him a Brazilian meal, and watched Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil with him. His Southern knowledge helped elucidate many subtle points.

So, special Parisian evenings for both of us!

[I’m still a week behind in my blog, but at least I’m making progress!]

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.

Ups and Downs

Tags

Bertrand, coquilles Saint-Jacques, Elle, foot, France, Guillaume, health, heel, Isabelle Huppert, Jared, language, Manu, meals, Paris, Paul Verhoeven, rue Montorgueil, scallops, sick, Zhizhong

One of the coolest things I did last year was to help Matt and Chris host a dinner party for Antoine and me. It was great fun, so Jared R and I decided to take it to the next level and host a dinner party for six! Our guests on Wednesday evening were Jared W, Bertrand (Jared R’s friend from his college semester abroad), Zhizhong, and his friend Guillaume, whom I had met last year at Paris Pride. We cooked cod and coquilles Saint-Jacques (scallops), with rice and a salad. I proposed that we add a cheese course, which was a huge hit with our French guests. Guillaume brought a bottle of wine, Zhizhong brought a strawberry tart for our first dessert, and Bertrand brought some authentic Breton nougat as our second dessert. I was too busy to take food pictures but here we are after the main course.

Zhizhong, Guillaume, Jared R, Bertrand and Jared W at dinner chez Bob

One point of particular pride is that our dinner table conversation was in French. I’m sure our guests were taking pains to speak slowly and clearly, and Jared R did have to translate for Jared W or me a few times. But on the whole the discussion flowed freely. I shudder to think what our accents must sound like to the Parisians, but they claimed to find them charming.

On Thursday Jared R rented a bicycle and rode to Versailles and back. He didn’t have enough time to go inside but he explored the garden thoroughly and enjoyed the adventure. I went instead to the Salon de Montrouge, a show for young contemporary artists that I try to see every year (see my previous post). That afternoon I met a young man who had just finished his final exams in an international program, taught in English, at the Sorbonne. We plan to meet again and at some point a photo may be in order.

That evening Jared had a hankering to eat at a classic French spot. After failing to get reservations at a few swanky places I suggested Brasserie Julien, which has a traditional menu and gorgeous decor, and is only a four minute walk. It was exactly what Jared wanted, and we both enjoyed our meals.

Jared R with his tarte fine dessert at Brasserie Julien

At the end of the meal, however, I started to get a stomach ache. I’m not sure whether it was something I ate or the powerful anti-inflammatory I had been prescribed for my heel (which worked like a charm). Whatever the cause, I was sick for the next 36 hours. This was a disappointment because I had planned to go to Fontainebleau and Vaux le Vicomte the following day with my old friend Manu. I had reserved a car (despite some concern about the availability of gasoline), but I had to cancel. Fortunately, he was able to go by train. and I should have another chance at Fontainebleau in June.

On Friday the Jareds took the TGV for a weekend in Strasbourg while I nursed my digestive tract at home. By Saturday morning I was feeling much better so I blogged and did some shopping. That evening I was finally able to catch up with Manu for apéro at my apartment and dinner at a pretty basic Thai place on rue Montorgueil. He’s off in the morning on a road trip with an old friend to Picardy.

On Sunday I felt a lot better, but it was wet so I had another quiet day. That evening I saw a remarkable movie, the rape comedy Elle, directed by Paul Verhoeven. I have reservations about whether the project should have been undertaken at all, but I have to admit that the movie is lovely, well-acted, scary and funny. Isabelle Huppert is simply superb.

Mot du jour: « coquilles Saint-Jacques », “scallops”, but there’s a nuance: the French use this for all kinds of scallops but strictly speaking it refers to just one particular type. Thus you will often see this in big print on a frozen meal with an asterisked note disclosing in tiny letters the actual type of scallop. Needless to say we served the real thing at our dinner party.

Les St-Jacques*

*But not really.

Friends and Food

Tags

apéro, Craig, Délices de la Lune, France, galettes, Jared, l'heure bleue, La Bocca, Marais, Marché des Enfants Rouge, meals, Paris, Quetzel, Saint-Julien le Pauvre, Vélib, Zhizhong

On Tuesday night I caught up with my great friend Zhizhong for apéro and dinner. He is originally from China, and we became friends while he was working on his PhD at Harvard. When he finished school he decided — partly through hearing about my trips — to look for a job in Paris. He visited for ten days and fell head over heels in love. He has now been here just over three years; he has gone from a few words to fluency in French; he has encountered and surmounted many bureaucratic snags; and he has come to see the weaknesses of the French system. Yet as he puts it he is still in love with Paris, only now with a more mature love, that is also clear-eyed about the flaws of his adopted city and country.

We ate at an old favorite restaurant, La Bocca.

Zhizhong and me at La Bocca

The appetizers were enormous, probably enough for our meals, but the pasta was also too good to leave any uneaten.

Well-prepared caprese salad (although in all honesty the tomato was a little bit firm)

Probably the best calimari I have ever eaten, paired beautifully with haricots verts.

Zhizhong’s pasta with clams.

My pasta al arrabiata.

I’m sure Zhizhong and I will get together again a few times this spring, but he is moving this week, and is working so hard at his new job that I won’t be able to count on too much of his time.

On Thursday and Friday I met up for lunch with Craig, a friend from New York City who is in town for a few days. We first met seven or eight years ago and have kept in touch intermittently ever since. On Thursday we took a walk, then had a delicious Breton meal at Délices de la Lune, near the Grand Rex cinema.

Craig with our galettes at Délices de la Lune.

On Friday, after visiting the Picasso Museum (in a future post), we had a Moroccan meal at the Marché des Enfants Rouge (The Market of the Red Children) in the upper Marais.

Craig about to dive in to our Moroccan lunch at the Marché des Enfants Rouge.

Craig is a part-time professional photographer and videographer (as well as being a full-time IT guy) so he is having a ball taking photos in Paris.

The poor little squirrel never had a chance.

Meanwhile, on Thursday evening Jared W and I met at Saint-Michel for a quick Italian meal, then heard a terrific piano concert — Chopin and Liszt — at the charming little church of Saint-Julien le Pauvre (the Poor).

The concert about to begin at the church of Saint-Julien le Pauvre in the 5ème.

After the concert we walked over to the Marais, across the Seine, at l’heure bleue, when the light changes so rapidly.

After a drink at Quetzel, which was active but not crowded, we each grabbed Velib’s and headed back to our respective homes-away-from-home.

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…

Last Days – For Me

Tags

Bastille, Bruce, Elliot, Gay Pride, George, Guillaume, La Marche des Fiertés, Marais, meals, Montorgueil, Open Café, Paris, Paris Pride, rue Montorgueil, Zhizhong

Saturday was Paris Gay Pride (« La Marche des Fiertés », literally “The March of Prides”). The weather was absolutely perfect, in sharp contrast to last year: sunny and warm but not too hot. I met up with Zhizhong at Le Soufflot Café, which was fairly ordinary except for the large size of their portions; I wouldn’t go out of my way to eat there again but I wouldn’t veto it either. We then strolled through the growing crowd to join Zhizhong’s French friend Guillaume and about a dozen U.S. marchers. We had been told that the U.S. Ambassador would be joining us so we were thrilled when she arrived, along with her impressive entourage.

The U.S. Ambassador, with her entourage, at Paris Gay Pride?

Skeptics raised questions about whether it was really she but I continue to believe that it was.

For about half an hour Zhizhong, Guillaume and I waited with the U.S. group while it moved less than a block, then we peeled off and walked along the parade route ourselves, following the rainbow flag I had bought from a street vendor.

Guillaume, Bob and Zhizhong at Paris Pride.

A couple Zhizhong knew joined us for a while, then we settled down at a café at Place de la Bastille to watch the parade finally arrive.

Paris Pride 2015.

After a few beers and a conversation (during which Guillaume revealed that I strongly resemble one of his uncles!) we said farewell and went our separate ways. I walked up Boulevard Beaumarchais to the end of the march, at Place de la Republique. It was festive but I was a bit tired so I headed home, where I made dinner and had an early night.

On Sunday morning Elliot came by with a couple of friends to pick up the cheapo microwave oven that I had bought for the apartment at the beginning of my stay. He has a nicer one at home but this will be perfect for the smaller apartment in the Marais where he used to live, which he now uses as an office and crash pad for friends. At 11:30 I met up with Bruce Bell and his partner George. Bruce has been my boss at GLAD, where I volunteer on Mondays, for the past five years, and we have become good friends. I took them on a walking tour of the Village Montorgueil and the Grands Boulevards, then we settled at La Grappe d’Or for lunch. The food and service were just ok, but it fully met the main criterion: three seats with a view of the passing parade on rue Montorgueil.

Free-range chicken and Niçoise salad at La Grappe d’Or.

Bob, Bruce and George enjoying front-row seats for the best people-watching in Paris, rue Montorgueil.

After lunch we walked over to the Marais. The Open Café was only seating people for lunch so we continued to one of my other favorite people-watching spots, L’Etoile Manquante, where we found a good spot and had a farewell drink.

This will be my final post from Paris since I’ve got to clean and pack for my early morning departure. I’ll post an assessment of the trip in a few days (or weeks?!?!) after I recover from jet-lag. Thanks for joining vicariously in this year’s petit séjour.

Art, Friends, Food

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art, B.J., BJ, Elliot, Les Heures Heureuse, Martin, Palais de Tokyo, Paris, soirée, Zhizhong

On Wednesday I went to the newly-opened contemporary art show at the Palais de Tokyo, which I have enjoyed in prior years. I really liked acquaalta and Patrick Neu on the ground floor but was left cold by the zany or tepid stuff downstairs.

Fashion week is getting underway and there was a gaggle of models posing outside the museum. I appreciated their diversity but most of them were more ugly-hot than gee-whizz cute.

Ugly-hot models outside the Palais de Tokyo.

The Patrick Neu show was surprising and thrilling. Most of his work is characterized by obsessive attention to fine detail.

Shirt made of bee wings, by Patrick Neu at Palais de Tokyo.

Battle scene etched in soot on the inside of a wine glass, by Patrick Neu at Palais de Tokyo.

Patrick Neu paints one iris every spring, at Palais de Tokyo.

« acquaalta » by Céleste Boursier-Mougenot is really an experience. It’s in an enormous darkened room with strange music. You first realize that there are huge pools on either side, then you notice sinister black boats, then you see people rowing the boats through the shadowy lake (though with just one oar the rower normally stands like a gondolier in Venice). Then you’re invited to take one out yourself! I felt like Charon rowing two Italian girls across the River Styx into Hades!

acquaalta by Céleste Boursier-Mougenot at the Palais de Tokyo.

This video clip only evokes a tiny sliver of the rich experience: Video Clip of acquaalta.

I thought the rest of the show was dreck — a hot mess and/or boring. Here’s a video clip of one of the exhibits that I didn’t like:
KORAKRIT ARUNANONDCHAI at the Palais de Tokyo

Scary métro station or trendy contemporary art museum? You decide…

On Thursday evening my cousin B.J. hosted a soirée at the apartment she was staying at for a few days in Saint-Germain-des-Prés. The original idea had been for me to host the evening at my place but I got anxious about having a bunch of people I didn’t know in an apartment I had to return in perfect condition a few days later. I needn’t have worried, since it was an absolutely delightful group.

Cousin B.J. and fellow fêtards at her soirée in the 6ème.

After the party broke up Zhizhong and I had a light meal and a weighty conversation at a nearby restaurant.

On Friday I got together with Martin, a French law student who I had first met in Cambridge just before my trip. We had lunch at Nanashi, an old favorite, after which he introduced me to Café A, a delightful garden café hidden in a former convent adjacent to the Gare de l’Est.

Martin and Bob at Café A.

I then met Elliot for an apéro in the 12ème, which turned into peripatetic tapas and drinks at the Heures Heureuses restaurants in the quarter. Elliot had noticed a sign for the program but didn’t know about it. As usual, the offerings varied in quality but by the end of the early evening we had had enough to eat and definitely enough to drink.

Bob and Elliot with frou-frou tapas and cocktails at Maguey in the 12ème.

After dinner I went home and lay down for a disco nap that turned into a good night’s sleep.

Hyper-Posh

Tags

Adrian, Boggi, fashion, flowers, garden, Grands Boulevards, Grégory, Harvard, Harvard-Yale, Hôtel de Pontalba, hyper-posh, Paris, Parisian Gentleman, posh, style, U.S. Ambassador’s residence, Yale, Zhizhong

I didn’t bring my dress jacket this year since I hadn’t needed it in the past couple of years. But a few days after I arrived not one but two dressy events got scheduled, so I went out an bought a new one. For under $100 I’m pretty happy with it, even though the material is synthetic.

My new Parisian jacket.

The first event was dinner at Restaurant Hélène Darroze two weeks before with my friend Taka and his partner. The second — arguably even posher — was the annual Harvard-Yale reception at the U.S. Ambassador’s residence, on rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré. Zhizhong is a member of the Harvard Club of Paris so he was able to bring me as his guest (though still costing each of us 45 euros).

Zhizhong also looking posh, in the private garden of the U.S. Ambassador’s residence.

Zhizhong has made some nice friends in the group, but most of the attendees were older and more status-conscious than I usually prefer.

Zhizhong with one of the nice younger friends he’s made through the Harvard Club of Paris.

I did bond with several rather charming older women, but that only goes so far for me.

Bob gingerly embracing the wife of a visiting minister.

The mansion itself, however, is stunning — a mini-Versailles. (Wikipedia tells me that it’s the Hôtel de Pontalba.)

Interior of the U.S. Ambassador’s residence in Paris.

Interior of the U.S. Ambassador’s residence in Paris.

Interior of the U.S. Ambassador’s residence in Paris.

And the enormous and gorgeous private garden, steps from the Champs-Élysées, is the pièce de résistance.

The private garden of the U.S. Ambassador’s residence in Paris is simply mind boggling.

After the Harvard-Yale event wrapped up, Zhizhong and I were still hungry so we walked along the Grands Boulevards in the direction of an Indian restaurant he likes. I noticed a group of stylish young men buzzing around a store on the boulevard des Italiens, and since we were also dressed to the nines (and I had had several drinks) I suggested that we try to get in. The woman at the door asked my name, which of course I gave her. When she couldn’t find me on the guest list she asked whether I was on the “Parisian Gentleman” list. I reluctantly admitted that I wasn’t. She then asked if I was with the press. I said, “Well, I could be.” She realized then that we were crashers! And waved us in anyway. No doubt because we’re fabulous, and better dressed than many of the Parisian Gentlemen already inside.

The stylish young crowd at the Boggi store on Boulevard des Italiens.

This crowd was more to my taste!

Not only was the crowd hotter but the food was much better!

Some of the cute guys eluded our grasp, but we had a delightful long conversation (in French!) with these two young visitors from Bordeaux. Contact info was exchanged and I hope to see them again, either in Boston or Bordeaux.

Zhizhong and Bob with our new friends from Bordeaux, Adrian and Grégory.

So our hyper-posh evening proved successful on all counts, just not all in the same venue.

Update: Grégory points out in a comment that Zhizhong and I are featured in an event photo on the Parisian Gentleman web site!

Zhizhong and me at the Boggi event from the Parisian Gentleman blog.

Ho hum. Just another typical day in Paris…