All day we have felt like we have been part of something unique and local--Saturday in Paris. We began the morning, as many Parisians do, with a nice breakfast followed by a stroll (as if they don't walk enough during the week😄) We chose the Promenade Plantee. This tree lined walkway is a 4.7 km elevated park built on top of obsolete railway infrastructure. Walk one way--followed by a baguette in the park--find a Velib--bike home. A perfect morning.
Although the Velib bike system is used by the occasional tourist it is predominately used by Parisians. It took us a while to muster the courage to brave the bike lanes (occasionally paved with cobblestones, and shared with buses and taxis). You have to have a certain confidence with one-way streets and directions before you set off. And, of course there is the problem that your Dad thinks he is Lance Armstrong every time he saddles up! Only one mishap yesterday. We accidentally headed the wrong way down a one-way street. Unfortunately, as we hesitated to straighten ourselves out right I. Front of the Presidents's home. We were "greeted" by a police detail. Once they understood our confusion, they kindly removed a restrictive barrier allowing us to take a short cut to the Le Petite Palais. Finally, starting at nine in the evening, Lille LOSC challenging Paris Saint-Germain the league cup final. In Europe football (read soccer) is not a game, it is a following. The fan are serious and as the Stade France is one of the locations of the November violence, the security is high. From the get-go the stands are amass with red and blue flags and the entire place registers a roar of cheering and fight songs. When LOSC scores someone in the stands lights something on fire--perhaps a small fireworks like a burning school house--we are not quite sure what it is as we can only see the glow and smoke. With twenty minutes to go, and the score tied 1-1, PSG earns a red card and has to play short-handed for the rest of the game. This just seems to ramp-up the intensity. PSG scores on a free kick. Alas, the team that was favoured 10 to 1 wins the game. We escape home unharmed and Dad is still smiling. Mom's lesson of the day: When you come face to face with a dozen riot police with their shields up...DO NOT STOP! The proper etiquette is to leak quietly off to the side. Living and Loving the City of Light. You are Always in my Prayers. Love Mom.
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As we are Heading off to Chartes tomorrow we spent a relaxing day hanging out with the sculptures at the Louvre. Made some time to just watching the robot clean the glass on the pyramid ( this was way more interesting than it sounds). The fountains at the Louvre are open for the season now so the square has a whole new feel.
I think we have wifi at Chartes--so, until tomorrow... Living and Loving the City of Lights. You are Always in My Prayers. Love Mom.
We spent today exploring a few of the double-digit arondissements. They certainly have a different feel than central Paris. For example, unlike the formal gardens in the 1st arondissement, Parc des Buttes-Chaumont (one of the biggest parks in Paris) has cliffs, waterfalls and is built around a rock quarry. As well, a big plus is the abundant street art.
I have a fondness for street art--both commissioned and rogue. Regardless of the city, I enjoy a good street art hunt. Today's finds were exceptional. We discovered gems on cafes, shops, trucks, buildings identified for demolition, public parks, and even a Boules Association. Sometimes creepy, sometimes cute, sometimes political, but always clever. I have to tell you about our new friends at the Boules Association. So, I spotted a mural with tags and possibly a chicken, in a gated off area. I tried the gate--it opened--in we went. Next thing I know a man is shouting to us from a metal shed. In my own semi-French way, I explained that we were visiting and just wanted to take a picture. Next thing I know we are exchanging une bise and he is somehow speaking of vin blanc --we meet with seven more new friends in the shed. Now I don't drink at all, let alone for lunch, but this explanation was wasted on the club members. So, I tried " it is a little to early in the day for Canadians to drink". "Mais il est de 1300 heures", the boules president exclaimed. I managed to use my merger French to temper the amount poured into my glass, your father did not fare quite as well--santé and down the hatch. They directed us to some exceptional street art locations and we had another adventure to remember. On the way back we stopped by Place de la République. The monument in the centre of the square has become a make-shift memorial for both the horrors surrounding Charlie Hebdo and the attacks this fall. The spirit of the square is at the same time sad, angry, and defiant. I hope the picture is clear enough that you can read some of the sentiments expressed. Living and loving the City of Light (in all of its forms). You are Always in my Prayers. Love Mom. Do you hear the people sing?
Singing a song of angry men? It is the music of a people Who will not be slaves again! When the beating of your heart Echoes the beating of the drums There is a life about to start When tomorrow comes! ~les Miserable
The variable weather only added character to our lovely day at Versailles. I had been before, but had never had the opportunity to view the grounds so extensively (over 19 000 steps on the Fitbit). The entire property covers more square kilometres than the town Listowel!
Louis' (the XIV) Galerie des Glaces in the elaborate chateau is always a hit, but my favourite are the gardens. Of course these are French gardens, which concentrate more on sculpted trees and fountains than flowers--a lovely spot to have our picnic lunch. Entirely new to me was Marie Antoinette's village within the grounds. Apparently her highness was a wee bit tired of all the grand palaces so she needed Louis (the XVI--there are a lot of Louis) to build her a little village of her own on the grounds. I feel extravagant when we get the fresh pasta pink labeled at Zehrs so you can imagine how over the top these seems to me😄 Tourist Moment: Felt very Parisian running for the metro.....felt very dumb-tourist jumping back off that same train right before the doors closed as we noted it was heading in the wrong direction. Living and Loving the City of Light. You are Always in my Prayers. Love Mom.
I might be wrong, but I think you are never too old to enjoy a good story that features flatulence. I suppose we should have been impressed that Maurice Chevalier and Edith Piaf performed at The Moulin Rouge, or that Toulouse-Lautrec was a frequent patron--but NO! Our imaginations were captivated by the legend of Le Pétomane (The Fart-Maniac). Joseph Pujol's performances (beginning in 1892) featured the sound effects he could produce by expelling large amount of air out of his butt. Yes, he was a professional farter. Now, is that a story worth a trip to Paris?
A little further up the hill from Moulin Rouge is le mur des je t'aime. This millennial installation features "I Love You" written in 280 different languages. I didn't capture the whole wall, but you should be able to find the phrase in English and French. In the short time we were there we saw numerous people looking for "I Love You" in their own language. The whole experience has a positive vibe. Our language gaff for the day: even if it is in the yogurt aisle it might not be yogurt and beware "fromage blanc" is not "white cheese" Living and Loving the City of Light. You are Always in My Prayers. Love Mom. |
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Ray & Diane
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