Along the Seine, Saturday, 14 November

Bookstalls with Notre Dame in the Background

A beautiful morning which, sadly, deteriorated into a wet and blustry afternoon. We set out to go to the Boulevard Saint Michel which we already mentioned has numerous bookstores since it is very near the Sorbonne. We found some cheap books, in English, so bought a couple to give us some reading material. Then we started walking along the river. No matter how many times we say it and no matter how many photographs we take of it, it is impossible to do it justice. On the other side of the Seine was Notre Dame in all its majesty.

We continued along looking for the Musee de l'Assistance Publique Hopitaux de Paris. This is a museum devoted to the history of hosptials in Paris since the middle ages, and while it doesn't sound like a crowd-pleaser, take it from us, it is very interesting. Many of the documents and paintings date from the thirteenth century, and if you really want to feel a shiver run up your spine, all you need to do is look at some of the early surgical instruments on display. The building is in the lovely Hotel Miamion which dates from the 17th century and was the city's central pharmacy until the mid-1970s. On the other side of the river, and just next to Notre Dame is the Hotel-Dieu, a city hospital which is supposed to have been founded around 650 by the Bishop of Paris although its current building dates from the late 18th Century.


As we walked towards the museum we passed one of the great "English" landmarks, the bookstore, Shakespeare and Company. It was the home away from home for many of the Americans of what came to known as "the lost generation." Hemingway, Fitzgerald and Gertrude Stein were frequenters of the bookstore and while many now lump it as an artifact of that period rather like Harry's American Bar at 5 rue Daunou, in addition to great memories, it remains a thriving bookstore serving the English speaking population of Paris. Indeed, as book buyers, we found the prices there for new and used books as good, if not better, than any of the other bookstores in Paris!

By now the wind had come up and it was looking ominously like rain, so after a quick lunch we headed back to Montmartre.

French drivers are a breed unto themselves. The most amazing of them, however, are the bus drivers. It is hard to imagine the skill it takes to drive one of those articulated monsters down a one-way street barely wider than the bus itself; especially when trucks are frequently taking up a portion of the road while they are being loaded or unloaded for the shops nearby. Generally the bus drivers wait patiently and often guide the drivers of the trucks so as to make an opening big enough for the bus to get through. I am sure the only reason buses manage to squeeze down some of the narrow old streets is because passengers inhale and hold their collective breath. If the bus drivers are quite impressive, the motor cyclists and scooter riders are something else again. They weave their way perilously through the streets ignoring lights and zebra crossings. Old men and women scatter before their furious approach. The amazing thing though is how they will stop suddenly just in time to avoid hitting someone and then resume at high speed. If you think bullfighters live dangerous lives, try surviving Paris traffic!

Friday the 13th of November

So, who's superstitious?

In Paris nothing much opens before 10:00. Local boulangeries and the alimentations are the exception. We were going to the Musee d'Orsay this morning and set out early to avoid the crowds. On our walk to the Metro we were able to watch the setting up the various shops. This can be quite complex since it is not uncommon for a great deal of the merchandise to be exhibited in front of the shop and this ranges from hardware goods to fruit and vegetables. Some of the shops actually create mini-artworks; especially the fruit and vegetable shops. Very French and an example of how they take time to display their wares rather like they take time to eat and drink and sit in cafes. Nothing is too much to achieve the desired effect.

At the Musee d'Orsay we passed straight in having bought our tickets yesterday to avoid the long lines. Yeah, right, today there were no lines. Oh well, c'est la vie. While I am sure that there are many other museums which I have not visited and which would overwhelm me, I have a special affection for this one.



Probably it is because of the wonderful assortment of Impressionist and Post-Impressionist paintings. Or perhaps it is because it is such a remarkable space in which to exhibit some of the great art treasures of the world. For those who may not be aware of it, this is a former railway station which, in the 1980s, was saved from destruction only to be converted into the amazing museum that it now is. We were fortunate enough to find that there was a re-arrangement of the Impressionist's works to show them as part of a special exhibition, and the already superb collection was fleshed out by works from other sources.

Virginia describes the collection here as one which always makes her cry. After knowing the pictures for years on advertisements, chocolate boxes and calendars, to be face to face with them and feel the almost primal impact of these pictures is a truly remarkable experience. There is a great sadness, too, when one looks at the marvelous self-portrait of Van Gogh and one realizes that he only ever sold one painting in his lifetime and never had a formal exhibition of his works.

For lunch we had been promising ourselves something a little special. The restaurant at the Musee is very "Belle Epoque," with great chandeliers and full-on service and that was where we decided to dine. It was, and Virginia reminded me, our dining out experience for the week. And what an experience it was. First, the restaurant is beautiful. Second, the service could not be better. Third the food was super and, finally, the prices were not too over-the-top. Our advice is if you are going to Paris and planning on visiting the Musee d'Orsay, eat in their restaurant.

After a leisurely lunch like that and a couple of glasses of wine, there was only one thing to do - so we came back to the flat for a nap.

Summer has returned to Paris; or at least spring. The temperature today climbed to around 16 degrees and the skies were clear and blue with bright sunshine and just a hint of cloud. The forecast is for a twenty or thirty percent chance of light rain during the next few days, but the temperature to remain in the same range. Good food, good wine, fine art, gorgeous weather -- bonne vacances!

View to Sacre Coeur from behind the Railway Clock at the Musee d'Orsay

A bit of our neighbourhood, Thursday, 12 November

The Fishmongers

Today was a mixed day but we thought we would show you a few images from our neighbourhood. As we head down the stairs from our street into the shopping area we pass a rather interesting sight. On the right is a crowded area with all sorts of weird and wonderful things in it. It has been here ever since we started staying in the flat. Some of it is very clever and some of it is just plain junk that has accumulated in piles. On the left, is an example. Is it art? Is it Junk? We leave that to you to decide.

As we move into the shopping area, we pass all sorts of shops and street displays. One section has cheap clothing and in the same little street is a fine fish stand, a great cheese shop and a bakery as well as our favourite green grocer. Everybody greets everybody with a cheerful "bonjour." When you are checking out at a grocery store, it is considered correct behaviour to greet the person doing the checking out with either "bonjour Monsieur" or "bonjour Madame." It is interesting that in a city in which the inhabitants are supposed to be quite rude that there is a code of politeness that is clearly understood by all. Of course there are larger stores such as Woolworths or Coles. The most common one is Monoprix but even that is very French. The display of vegetables is lovely and there is a very wide range of charcuterie while the bakery section has both bread and pastry - all very lovely.



For the last few days we have been investigating the purchase of an iron. The one in the flat has exposed wires and has been deteriorating for several years. Anyway, Virginia announced "I am not using that; I don't need to have my hair electrically frizzled!" A lot of people obviously use the flat and not all are as considerate as one might hope. For example, when we arrived the place smelled very strongly of smoke even though the person who had been here before us, we understand, was a non-smoker and had left the windows open. This has been the case every time we have returned to the flat. We suppose this is just in the nature of a private arrangement like this so we are not complaining but provide this as a bit of a background view.

We called our "landlady" in Sydney about the iron and she told us to get a new one at the hardware store just around the corner. So, today we went there. This is the same hardware store where we had been invited in to taste the wonderful dates a few days ago. We looked over the stock of irons and Virginia made tut-tut noises and shook her head a lot. Finally, although the price was clearly marked on the box she looked down her nose and asked how much he wanted for the iron. The look on her face suggested that whatever he was going to ask, it was going to be too much. He, however, was equally adept at the game saying (in French, of course), for you Madame I will make it a special price. He knocked off about ten percent and both were happy. Sadly, however, he appeared to be out of dates! That was our excitement for the day. Virginia went off to school and I worked on the Summer School.

In most streets you will find a shop called Le Tabac which is a bit like the outback shops in Australia where one shop does it all. Mostly it sells papers, magazines, sweets, stamps, tobacco, phone cards and occasionally even has a bar attached to it.

Today seemed like summer. The temperature got to a balmy 14 degrees and one of the shopkeepers said to Virgina C'est l'ete! (it is summer) and although rain is forecast for the next couple of days the temperature is expected to remain in the low to mid teens. Rather nice when we hear that Adelaide is having a hemongous heat wave with a week in the high thirties.

Armistice Day, Wednesday, 11 November

Today is Armistice Day; a day the French take very seriously since it marks the end of the terrible conflagration which was World War I. All over the city flags are flying and even the buses carry flags on their fronts. We climbed aboard one of those buses to go down to the centre of Paris but the bus was detoured and we wound up on the other side of the Seine, on the left bank and about as far from where we had intended to go as it was possible to get and still be within walking distance.

We walked back toward the Musee d'Orsay along the Quai d'Orsay which is a beautiful boulevard paralleling the river with magnificent views of the Grand Palais, Petit Palais, Place de la Concorde and the Louvre. It took us straight past the Musee d'Orsay which we are planning to visit on Friday.

It was a day for long coats, scarves and hats with the temperature barely reaching three degrees above freezing. But what a day for walking. The trees are still sporting their autumnal colours and the Eiffel Tower was shrouded in mist which later burned off into brilliant sunshine.

Parking, at the best of times is always a problem in Paris. And no wonder, when you consider that most residents live in multi-story apartment blocks. Certainly the streets are always crowded and some of the parking can only be described as "innovative." So, on a public holiday when all the parks are full, why not just pull up on to the pavement and take your chances! After all, the police might be too busy today to notice. Alternatively, if you have a very small car you may be able to park with its nose to the curb between two slightly larger cars which are parked in the ordinary manner.

There has recently been a Festival of Music and we were delighted to learn that musicians of every calibre from the most basic amateur to the most highly trained professional were encouraged to perform in the streets either alone or in groups for the enjoyment of passers-by. Amazing when you consider that in Australia, to perform in public like that, often requires a special license and the payment of a fee. How much more civilized the Parisians are on that score.

Astérix, Tuesday, 10 November

Today I went back to the Museum of the Middle Ages. I've already spoken about this but went back particularly to take some pictures of the posters advertising the Astérix Exhibition.

For those of you who may not know about French comic strips, there are two that stand out and have been around for more than fifty years. Good comics, it has been said, are a global medium not merely reflecting, but often inspiring fads, fashions, the way we speek and even our attitudes. About a warrior of ancient Gaul called “Astérix,” the work of the writer (and comic-strip theorist) René Goscinny and the artist Albert Uderzo. “Astérix,” is more than simply humorous and adventurous; often indulging in sophisticated puns, witty anachronisms, and satirical flashes.

So, here a a few of the advertising posters on the outside of the Museum. Enjoy!

Changing a light bulb! 9 November

Monday morning and our time in Paris is becoming structured. I've got a course to finish writing and Virginia is going to school. We were up earlier than usual and went out and did our shopping. Monday is a day on which many things are closed. In Paris the weekend seems to stretch over three days, Saturday, Sunday and Monday, with some shops being open on each of the days so one can get the necessities - like fresh baguettes. Heaven forbid that you had yesterday's bread for anything other than dipping into your bowl of coffee for breakfast.

Flowers are very much a way of life in Paris where there are a great many florist shops. Potted plants or cut flowers are very reasonably priced and it is not at all unusual to see people walking along with great bunches of flowers. We bought some for the table in the flat where, as you can see, they look very nice indeed - especially when you consider they probably cost only six or seven Australian dollars (depending on the exchange rate).

After an early lunch I got well and truly stuck into preparation. It is quite amazing when you think about it. I have over 250 books with me; all but four or five are digitized copies available on the Internet. Virginia went off to her language school. She will take over from here.

As a trained adult educator going to school here is particularly interesting. I've been to school here before and was appalled at the methods used to teach adults. Surely the first thing a sensitive teacher must do is make the students feel comfortable. This did not happen at my last school so this time I have chosen to study at the Alliance Francaise and, guess what, exactly the same happens there. It appears to be the French way. This is a very professional organization with literally dozens of classes taking place simultaneously but when I arrived it was seriously difficult to find out where I had to go for my class and having accomplished that there was absolutely no welcome. Ten students sat awaiting the start of the class. The teacher arrived, checked everyone's carte d'etudiant and then said, "tournez a page 28 dans votre livre." That was it for introductions!

All of the other students in the class were one-third of my age and insisted on calling me “Madame” rather than by my given name. They were lovely and there is no lift at the AF where my class is on the third floor. At the "petite pause" or recess, they offered to bring me tea or coffee from the restaurant which is on the ground floor. Very sweet. I can't decide whether I was flattered or appalled. This compared with Bruce's experience this morning on the bus when a gentleman who certainly didn't look any older than Bruce insisted that he take the seat. It was particularly galling since it was a seat reserved for the aged and infirm. When Bruce got up to offer it to an elderly lady, she refused to take it. By then I sensed steam coming out of Bruce's ears. Anyway my class progressed for three hours with a ten minute pause which, I reckon, is quite intense teaching and learning.

Students in my class come from Australia (that's me), England, Brazil, Austria, Korea, Paraguay, China and America. Of course there is homework; and lots of it to do before tomorrow's class. So, on that note, I had better get to it! This is quite a terrifying experience to be in such a multi-cultural classroom where the only common language is a smattering of French. No foreign language is allowed from the front door of the AF - even in the toilets although you do hear people whispering in languages other than French.

Our final question for this blog. How many Frenchmen does it take to change a light bulb? Only one plus a driver and a lift operator when the light is on the side of a building about 5 meters above ground level!

The Pavement of Paris, Sunday, 8 November

The topic of the day is, at least at the moment, dogs and what they leave on the pavement of Paris.

It has always been a complaint by tourists that the likelihood of wearing dog droppings on the bottom of one’s shoes is greater in Paris than in most other places. In the past we have discussed this phenomenon at some length so do not propose to repeat ourselves. Rather, consider this an update on this serious topic.

On this trip, the pavements seem dirtier with more of the dog crap than in the past. At the same time we have not seen the “flushing” of the streets which we saw every evening on previous visits. Paris has a system where water comes out of the curbside and washes down the streets. Perhaps this is a seasonal phenomenon - pity the dogs haven't been informed if that is indeed the case. That dogs are a problem can be seen from the sticker which we noticed on the door of a shop. The message is clear, “keep your dog droppings off our front step!”

Damn, don't you just hate it when you get it wrong? We went out about fifteen minutes ago and found the streets running with water. Nothing like reality to explode a really great theory!

While we were out we passed our local hardware store; very Islamic! As we passed, the proprietor, an unsmiling, bearded Arab signalled us in a most pre-emptory way to come inside. When we did so he offered us fresh dates from a bowl. They were absolutely the best ever. There go all the stereotypes. Anyway, he is a good businessman and we have been discussing the need for an iron in the flat to replace the old one on which the wires are stripped to a dangerous degree. Guess where we will be going to get the iron. Got it in one, didn't you.

The apartment we rent is not serviced, so today is cleaning day. Seems you can’t escape no matter how far away from home you go! But as a treat, after cleaning, we went out to lunch at one of my favourite restaurants, Leon's of Brussels. The house specialty is mussels and chips and they are sensational. Virginia had a beef dish while I indulged in Moules Frites to my heart's (or more likely my stomach's) delight.

In order to work off such an extravagent lunch, we walked back to the flat via rue Lepic, taking the funicular up to the top of the butte and then walking down the other side. A long lunch, a bit of wine, a long walk in Paris, what could possibly be a nicer way to spend a Sunday? The answer is stopping on your walk to listen to street bands. Now if that doesn't make it perfect, I don't know what can.

To the Left Bank...

It was a very noisy night with youngsters celebrating their youth almost directly under our window at 3.00 in the morning. I am not sure whether we are annoyed by the noise or by the fact that we are too old to even contemplate being up at 3.00 am let alone celebrating our long distant youth! But up we were so we did the only thing one can do at times like that and slept in this morning.

One of the things that constantly surprises us is the little blocks of flowers. Just behind the Marie of our district, there are two little areas which have elegant displays of flowers. They brighten an otherwise drab corner and seem to remind us that no matter how cold the winter might be, there will be a spring.

Virginia wanted to take me to a bookshop on the Boulevard Saint Michel to show me the whole department that is set apart for Les Bandes Dessinees or, “comic strips.” Well, they aren’t exactly comic strips rather they are reminiscent of what in my youth were called “classic comics” which were cartooned versions of well known books such as Jane Eyre or The Three Musketeers. The shop is huge with a tremendous range of works in a multiplicity of languages reminding one that the French still read! The store caters for students at the Sorbonne which is just around the corner so it is not surprising that it has a very well stocked six floors. With the exchange rate where it is, some of the books in English were actually cheaper here than in Australia. We also discovered that along the "Bou san Mich," as it is affectionately known, there are numerous bookstores many of which sell second-hand books in English at a much better price than you pay by going to the specialist English language second hand bookshops that are widely touted in all the travel guides. A great place to get that "trash" that we all read whilst travelling.

After a bite of lunch we walked over to the courtyard at the Musee de Moyen Age; truly a medievalist's delight. At the moment the museum is showing an exhibition of Asterix cartoons to celebrate the 50th anniversary of this delightful French cartoon strip.

For most of us, time is a luxury; for the French, time is a necessity of life. Let me give you two examples. Even as I prepare to send this I sit in Cafe Francoeur where over a glass of beer, some peanuts and olives, I will spend at least an hour. Virginia has a glass of Chardonnay and is reading the paper. We will be here for, I should imagine, a total of two hours. Nobody is bothered, it is just the "French" way. Next to us is a gentleman who arrived before us and has been nursing a cup of delicious looking hot chocolate. He is still there as we prepare to leave. Virginia was telling me about the other example. She was doing some food shopping and she noticed an elderly woman buying potatoes. Let me digress for just a moment. They have the most delicious tiny potatoes (similar to Jersey Royals) here. Well, this lady was meticulously picking them up, one by one, scrutinizing each and every potato with great care, and if it passed her inspection she would add it to her bag. At home we would just pick up potatoes willy-nilly, possibly discarding a rotten one or two, but she was making sure that every potato matched in size and shape.

This may be something that is only common, however, among older people. We also noticed that there are now a whole breed of "DINKS" who buy the pre-packaged, pre-cooked, expensive goodies. Why anyone would do this in a country which has such magnificent foodstuffs we cannot imagine; especially where food is not cheap and the pre-packed is much more expensive. Still, we see the same thing happening in Australia and a number of years ago, in England, kitchens were becoming a thing of the past with a microwave being the only "cooking" device in many homes. There, however, we have a sense of a return to cooking. Maybe it is the "Jamie" factor.

In the Courtyard Musee de Moyen Age

Champs Elysee, Friday, 6 November

It has been a busy day today and an interesting one. For the ladies, one of the most interesting streets in Paris must be the avenue Montaigne which runs from the Rond Point des Champs Elysee to the Place de l'Alma (yes, where Diana died). We told you about this road before so won't bore you again except to say that just about every top fashion house is represented and unless you are in your chauffeur driven car don't bother to knock on the doors. The one shop that Virginia was interested in was Baby Dior. The restaurants are very posh in avenue Montaigne. No quick baguettes here, rather the full long lunch! And, of course, one can sit outside and watch the Plebs watching you if you are one of the beautiful people.



There are all sorts of fascinating things along the Champs Elysee, ranging from the very unexciting Macdonalds to the most exclusive shops imaginable. The windows of shops are dressed beautifully. Here's a little item we spotted at the Rond Point des Champs Elysee. Even the "street art" in Paris is something else!



There seem to be few overweight men and women in Paris. We have speculated that this is because it is difficult to have a car in the city which means a lot of walking and since most people live in apartment blocks of up to six stories and without lifts in many cases, people get plenty of exercise just doing their daily chores. I might add, too, that many of the Metro stations are seriously underground and there are few if any escalators or lifts.

In the past we have talked about entertainers getting on the Metro for a station or two and then taking up a collection and moving on to the next train. In the long corridors in the Metro stations there are often beggars and entertainers. The latter range in talent from little or none to a very high standard. Today, as we walked through an area of the Concorde station we were serenaded by a first-rate band of half-a-dozen or so Spanish musicians. They deserved whatever they earned both for their talent and their enterprise.

The weather today was cold but sunny and a walk up the Champs Elysee took up a good part of the afternoon. All the flags are out for the Armistice Day parade on the 11th. We are hoping to be able to watch it and will tell you about it in a future blog.

A Paris Night from our Window

What don't you understand about "No Parking"?

Today Virginia sat her exam and completed her enrolment at the Alliance Francaise. The examination was an hour written and half-an-hour oral. "Not," she says, "for the faint of heart." She was accepted in the course and has her textbooks and the CD that accompanies them.

We've mentioned before that there is a lot of smoking here, and today Virginia saw an astonishing example of this. Next door to the Alliance is a Lycee, a high school. As she emerged from the Metro Station she was concerned that there were as many as 250 young people milling about on the pavement and in the road. Her first thought was that this was, perhaps, some kind of student protest and to avoid trouble she crossed to the other side of the road. On closer examination (and a look at her watch) she fathomed out that this was recess and that the majority of students, plus their teachers, had emerged from the school for a smoke. It seems unlikely that smoking will ever be curbed when it is so prevalent, even in the schools!

If you ride the Metro, you have an opportunity to increase your understanding of the French language, par example, it is not very difficult to understand that "Soldes de mid-saison -50%" for all the major fashion shops means that there are considerable savings to be made for those ladies who like to shop. Sales at this time of year are very unusual and would normally not occur until just after Christmas. Another sign of the economic downturn. For all of the fashionistas watching this blog, Virginia would like you to know that although there are always those women who will wear high heels; the fashion is for flat, masculine looking brogues or "les petites ballerinas" otherwise flats.

While Virginia was organizing her academic life, I was diligently doing the morning shopping and trying out my less than adequate French; all part of the ordinary daily life we lead here in Paris.

As we walked down for Virginia to get the Metro for the Alliance and for me to do the shopping, we saw a van being removed. When the French say "No Parking," they mean it! It is an interesting process and one which in the past we have observed from our window as there is a "livraisons" space meant only for deliveries and maintenance vehicles just below our flat. Anyway, the police arrive and do the paper work, placing it on the windscreen just as anywhere else in the world. Then, however, they immediately phone for one of the "pick up" trucks that are run by each of the prefectures. Within three minutes (we have timed it) the truck is there, the car is literally picked up and placed on the truck or towed behind and they are gone. To get the vehicle back is a process which we have not explored and since we don't have a car have no desire to; but knowing a little about the intricacies of French bureaucracy, we are grateful that we have one less element of it with which to concern ourselves.

So, what don't you understand about "No Parking"

We had a few ups and downs today. When Virginia finished at the Alliance, we were to meet near the Louvre. As I tried to use my Navigo, it failed. After a lot of mumbling and wild gesticulation on my part I managed to get on the Metro and reach our meeting place. My problem was greeted with a Gallic shrug from the official in the Metro. "It's your problem, not mine," seemed to be the attitude of officialdom. In the meantime Virginia had been going to the Tourist Office for the Ile de France. The Ile de France is the area outside the immediate metropolis of France and as we intend to visit a number of places within an hour or so of the Capital, it would have been useful to get some information. Despite all the guide books telling us the Office was there, it apparently has closed down. We have noticed that large cities do not sell themselves well. We may have remarked on the lack of visitors' information at Paddington in London and the same problem exists at the various arrival points in Paris.

A pleasant stroll up the rue de Rivoli with stops at two of the bookshops was a pleasant way to spend an hour or so. The French are great readers and the number of bookstores is truly astonishing. One of those we visited was W. H. Smith, which anyone who has ever visited England will recall from their ubiquitous presence in tube stations, railway stations and the High Streets.

Home and an hour or so at Cafe Francoeur where we posted our blogs for the last several days and another day passed for your correspondents in Paris.