Paris II

28 June-2 July

Part 1: Paris with Hilary

The Marseilles-Paris TGV does the whole trip in about 3 hours. From Aix-en-Provence, it is non-stop. Knowing that Madeleine would be at Roissy airport when the train arrived gave me the opportunity to see Rachid for a few hours and share some of his excellent mint tea, not to mention a fantastic orange cake à la Rachid. Merci, Rachid!

Madeleine texted me when she and Hilary Capper had arrived home, after a two-hour wait at Roissy. Great to see them both again. My main mission was to be French-speaking guide to Hilary, who wanted to see some of the paintings in Paris, particularly the impressionists, or at least as much as could be seen in the two days available. I also wanted to go to the bank to do things that could only be done in person. Hilary had the dubious pleasure of waiting in an armchair in the very lovely bank building at 2, Place de l’Opéra, before we set off to explore the local streets, intending to go to the Musée d’Orsay.

Life is never always as planned, however, and thank goodness. Passing through the area of the Louvre we noticed there was virtually no queue and it would have been negligent to merely pass by. Tickets bought, bags stashed, we were ready to do our thing. Perhaps a cup of coffee? (Since we had already done quite a lot that morning.) But wait! Are those prices correct? Check. Check again. Yes! For 6€60 we could have a pretty large plate of buffet-style salads, with a huge selection of both protein and vegetables. And NO QUEUE! So we did. And we attribute to this meal not only our enjoyment of the whole day but the additional pleasures of being able to have a really nice meal in a prime tourist area for an excellent price.

The Louvre is huge, even with certain sections closed on various days, and you can only do, or take, so much. My preoccupations in the past have been more with antiquities than impressionists and I took as much delight in being shown the details of some of the techniques by Hilary, as she took in actually being there and seeing all these wonderful paintings. So win/win on that one, and thank you, Hilary.

Even on a mission one can only do so much. We were there for the closure of the Louvre at 6pm and walked alongside the Seine towards the bateaux-mouches (tourist boats). It was with some relief that we sat down and waited for the departure of our boat, which was about 7.30pm, so still light but not full afternoon sun. These boat rides are well worth the money and give you a perspective that cannot be gained from walking. The commentary is usually hard to hear, even if you follow 3 or 4 of the languages, but you can usually pick up something you didn’t know before. It’s good to be able to take in the façades of the buildings on both sides of the Seine at once.

The next part of the evening, the getting-home bit, would have been really easy. A direct line to Nation, Madeleine’s station, mostly raised above street level, so that it would be a sort of sightseeing trip too. But no. First station there’s some problem with the doors. We wait. Nothing. We wait. Nothing. We wait. We are told to get out. We wait. Then I decide to go back to the previous station and take a different line. We do this. We run like mad to actually get on the train, which stops halfway down the station. As it is an RER it will be much quicker than the metro. But no. It dawdles, it goes slowly, it messes around, it chugs along. It reaches a station, starts off again and does the same thing. There is some problem with the train system tonight. We finally reach Austerlitz and walk to the Gare de Lyon. Will we walk the 20-30 minutes home from here or risk a train? We risk a train. I think it is here that a saxophone player in the Metro Station enlivens our evening. Good on him! Luckily we have a cellphone, so Madeleine is not tearing her hair out. Luckily we ate copiously and well at midday, so our entrails are not shouting for help. Luckily we arrive at Nation without further delay. A very late dinner that night!

Madeleine’s daughter, Claire, rings the next day to tell us that Christ’s College choir are singing in Notre-Dame at 11am. We hurry up. Can we make it? And which Christ’s College, anyway? We make it. And it is ‘our’ Christ’s College, who sing a moving and beautiful hymn in Maori. Followed by a series of beautiful hymns, songs and chants for about half an hour, during which time at least three of the boys faint gracefully and exit quietly. We speculated about a tummy bug or lack of sleep.

On with our quest. This time the Musée d’Orsay is definite and this time there is a queue. And a long one. We take our places and move relatively quickly. Baggage x-rayed and we are IN. We opt for some visiting but after a couple of hours hunger and fatigue make their presence felt and we search out the food and rest department. Food not very interesting and a LONG queue. Which we join. Somewhat rested and refreshed we take up the quest again. There’s SO much to see, we fear we may have to give up before the end but we actually see all we want to see before the museum closes. Bravo, us!

We meet Madeleine at the Aussie Pub but it is a bit noisy for our state of mind and there’s a lot to see in the area. We take to the streets, partly to show Hilary the sights, partly in search of a restaurant. Eventually, (in the Marais by now), after being pretty picky about the location, the amount of noise, the menu and the size of the restaurant, we found the perfect restaurant for our needs. In the food line it exceeded our expectations and value for money was excellent. So here’s the plug for it: Etamine Café, 13, rue des Ecouffes, 75004 Paris. Metro: St Paul
www.etamine-cafe.com

Next morning was Hilary’s departure on the Eurostar train for London. We prudently left early for the Gare du Nord. Even from Nation it takes a fair while to get there. Be generous when estimating the time it will take you to travel across Paris to make a connection. You can always have an extra cup of coffee if you’re far too early!

Part 2: Paris after Hilary

Paris after Hilary was still at full speed. Rachid had managed to get tickets for a play in a real Parisian theatre. But before we went to the play we had a fabulous walk around the area, a new one for me but which very familiar to Rachid, as this was where he had spent his first years after arriving in Paris. He took us around the building, his first home here, as it were, and even managed to show us the exact area he had lived in, even though it is now altered. The building dates back to the end of the 19^th century at the latest, a YMCA, with gymnasium and even a wooden, cambered velodrome (very small but obviously workable), around a mezzanine of the gym. In 1893, the first game of basketball in Europe was played here. Imported from the USA. Of equal interest to this traveller to the Cévennes (Alzon) is the plaque showing that the first meeting of the Cevenol Club in Paris took place there in 1895. It is almost certain that this was a Protestant group, as the Cévennes and Haut-Languedoc had emerged from persecution but were obviously a minority in Paris.

Our play was called La soeur du Grec (The Greek’s Sister) and was very well acted. It was a comedy with a twist at the end and a lot of fun. We went walking again afterwards. One of the interesting things we came across was a community garden in a spot that had been wasteland. It is now a park with grass, play equipment and garden areas. The people working there chatted to us. They live in the nearby apartment blocks and have parts of the garden to tend to. The schools also take part. The whole seems to be a very successful community effort.

From there we walked beside a canal to find the Hotel du Nord, the setting of a popular novel and even more famous film of the same name of the late 1930s. To my great delight there was also a road bridge over the canal which pivots to let the barges past. However, it’s not easy to capture that in the photos. We ate at an amazingly cheap place in the area, with delicious dishes from the Ile Maurice, if I remember correctly.

The following day was Sunday, spent relatively quietly, with Jean-Marc coming to dinner after church and Madeleine, J-M and I later going to see the film Persépolis, the story of a spirited young girl in Iran from before the fall of the Shah until her final departure for France where she now lives. The story first appeared in 4 volumes of black and white bandes dessinées, (which I hesitate to call comics) and this year a screen adaptation, still under her direction, has appeared. It is brilliantly done and tells the story of a whole society from the eyes of a young girl. Not to be missed. For the non-French speakers, not to be missed if it comes out in a dubbed or subtitled version. You need the words. A very powerful film.

And that beautifully wrapped up my visit to Paris on this occasion.

Photos at:

http://picasaweb.google.com/101628277989220379025/ParisII