Paris, Day 14

Some thoughts on Paris and shopping.

Paris is certainly one of the great cities of the world. The city itself has a population of around two and a quarter million people while the greater metropolitan area counts close to twelve million residents, making it one of the most populated metropolitan areas in Europe.  AskMen, the British journal, ranks it eleventh in the world as a desirable place for men to live.  Whether it would receive the same ranking from women is, of course, another issue. It is always difficult to define what makes a city liveable or what accounts for its ranking.  The lifestyle magazine Monocle publishes an annual list of liveable cities. The list in 2009 was named "The Most Liveable Cities Index" and presented 25 top locations for quality of life. In 2010 Paris ranked seventh after a 2009 ranking of eighth. According to a panel of Time Out magazine, Paris ranked as the third greatest city in the world, behind New York and London. According to Business Insider, it is ranked third best city on earth and number one for quality of life.

Needless to say, we agree with the high rankings, but we suspect that there are a number of reasons for its liveability.  First of all, Parisiens are used to living very much cheek to jowl with their neighbours and as a result have developed a very comfortable pattern of small courtesies.  We mentioned in an earlier blog the kindness of strangers on public transport and, of course, in a city the size of Paris the last thing one wants is to have a car.  Public transport is good, efficient and relatively cheap.  But the casual courtesy goes well beyond the buses and the Metro.  If somebody needs to pass you in the street, you are more than likely to hear about it when they beg "Pardon, Monsieur."  If you catch the eye of a stranger as you are walking, they are likely to greet you with "Bonjour." Such courtesies grease the wheel of daily existence. On entering a shop it is common practice to greet the proprietor or sales person with a cheery "Bonjour."  And on leaving there are usually casual remarks.  To the person not used to this, the casual chatter in shops can seem annoying.  After all one is there for service and this is delaying the process.  But it is all part of life in the French world.

The area in which one lives may well be the only area one knows, or at least knows well.  The shops, restaurants, and other amenities are all local.  Going to a large grocery store (although they do exist and people do use them) is, for most people, as alien as for an Australian or an American to spend the morning almost every day moving from the butcher shop to the cheese shop to the fish market, to the greengrocer and to the bakery. Here, freshness is prized!

Here are some pictures that were all taken within a one or two minute walk of our flat.  These are the shops of our neighbourhood but a stroll through almost any neighbourhood in Paris would produce similar shops.

The absolute staple of French diet is bread.  And the best French bread is the baguette.  Sure, there are all other kinds, but the baguette is the "vin ordinaire" of French breads.  It is sold in thousands of  bakeries where it is baked several times a day.

Neighbourhood Boulangerie

One thing that we have noticed is that while the French like salads, they are not great vegetable eaters.  But, having said that, when they buy fruit and vegetables they demand the highest quality.  Strawberries, for example, are always beautifully displayed as are all the goods.  There are several small shops near us that sell fruit and vegetables and a couple of small grocery stores where in addition one can get basic canned and packaged goods.

Strawberries

Our local "grocery" store, an alimentation generale

Although it is possible to buy fish in a large grocery store, like Monoprix, why would one want to do so when it is cheaper and fresher bought from your local poissonnière.

La poissonnière

Packaged cheeses?  "Non, non, monsieur."  Why would you do that?  There are from 350 to 400 distinct types of French cheese grouped into eight categories and there can be many varieties within each type of cheese, leading some to claim closer to 1,000 different types of French cheese. For cheese, one goes to la fromagerie.

la fromagerie

For meat, there is la boucherie and outside the shop one can frequently find the rotisserie on which chickens and pork are being roasted.  French chicken, by the way, is much stronger in flavour than either the watered down American or Australian model.

la boucherie

la boucherie

Finally, in our little gastronomical tour of the neighbourhood.  There is the charcuterie.  Here are smoked meats, sausages, pates and all sorts of wonderful and delicious goodies.  

La charcuterie

After all this, I think it is time for a "pain au chocolat" and an espresso.  So, until tomorrow ...

Paris, Day 13

Today is one of Virginia's days off from school so after the usual morning chores and completion of homework we headed out.  Although we had planned the day, the weather was cold and overcast and the idea of sitting out at a café or wandering about too much was not appealing.  After quickly checking our favourite shops on the rue de Rivoli, east of the Louvre, we headed back to the Place Colette and Virginia's favourite lunching spot, Le Nemours.  If you have seen the film The Tourist, the opening scene, with Angelina Jolie dining on her own (an unlikely scenario at best) it was filmed there.

Le Nemours

As we walked towards the Metro station at Concorde, we noticed some more removalists.  This time, it was a doubles act; something we had never seen before.

The "doubles act"

 Later in the day after a bit of a rest, we went out again to get some chocolates.  More about this will be revealed in a couple of days.  However, as we walked by the entrance to our normal Metro station, we saw what can only be described as an "instant" stall selling fruit and vegetables at very good prices.  These "pitches" are illegal, and are often at any particular location for only a short period of time.  They are frequently found by the Metro in the late afternoon which I am sure is to pick up the homebound trade.  The stalls seem to be tolerated because they have decent goods at bargain prices.  One suspects that much of the produce fell off the back of a truck, but it doesn't stop pedestrians from buying the goods.  We needed a couple of bananas so we did what any right-thinking, law-abiding  Parisien would do and purchased them.

Street Sellers

As we have said, the buildings one sees on every hand are beautiful and unique.  On our walk this afternoon we passed a lovely Boulanger Patissier.  And as attractive as it was from the outside the goods in the window...Ooh La la!

A local bakery

Security and safety is an interesting thing here.  I noticed on the bus this afternoon that a gentleman tied his shopping trolley to a pole and then wandered down to the back of the bus to find a seat.  It would only have taken a minute to have surreptitiously untied it and gotten off the bus with it before the owner could have done anything.  People often leave things outside shops expecting that they will be there when they return and, it seems as if they are justified in this.  In part this may be the locale.  Montmarte has a village air about it.  In fact, when the driver gets on the local bus he greets many people by name and always does a general "bonjour."  Not surprisingly there is a general response.

Yet to get into one of the apartment blocks is a completely different matter.  Typical of most would be our apartment block.  To get past the front door requires entering a numerical code of four digits or using an electronic tag.

Front door, 2 rue Cyrano de Bergerac

First entrance barrier

Once you have passed through the front doors, you find yourself in another section with closed doors.  To open these you need to use your key tab again.

The second set of doors

The second electronic entry device

At this point you are in the foyer and there are no more barriers until you get to your own front door.  For those who have never used a French key, in a French door, this in itself can be quite a trial.  But, like most things French, one soon becomes accustomed to it and having managed to turn the key and open the door, one is home.

Paris, Day 12

Today was very similar to yesterday, but we had a couple of interesting experiences.  You may recall our telling about the parking problems here.  Well, usually we expect to see the inspectors about once a week.  Today they returned after having been only a few days ago.  And they were targeting the car which was so badly parked that it had caused the difficulty we described.  They got it!  The police were here and ticketed it and in less than  a quarter of an hour the truck had arrived.  It was gone then within two minutes - we timed it.  When there is a notice like this, what don't people understand about "No Parking."

Not too hard to figure out

But it doesn't seem to matter.  One often sees cars and motorcycles clustered around the signs.  It is almost as if it is a game of "catch me if you can."

Sign?  What sign?

Among the worst offenders are motorcyclists who seem to feel that they can ride on the pavement and park wherever they want.  Today we were pleasantly surprised to see one of the "pick up" trucks doing the rounds with motorcycles.  This is daily life in Paris.

Impounding the motorcycles

If you live in a Paris apartment like the one we are renting, moving in and out presents considerable difficulty.  The stairs are narrow and steep and often there are no lifts or, if there is a lift, it may only be big enough for two people to squeeze into.  Here, for example, is a picture of the staircase leading up to our flat.  And while the building is six storeys high, it has no elevator.

Narrow Staircase at 2 rue Cyrano de Bergerac

The idea of getting a large piece of furniture to a fifth or sixth floor apartment poses, therefore, quite a problem.  The solution is to get the good up to the apartment externally.  And this is done by removalists with a portable ladder/lift that extends from the ground to the apartment window and which has an automated elevator like device on it.  While it seems peculiar to us, it is a perfectly reasonable solution to a problem and one seems them quite frequently.

Removalists preparing to deliver

The system at work

We continued to the market where we bought some fish and some vegetable for the next few days.

Our local fish market

The green grocer's

Part of the Green grocer's display

After lunch Virginia went off to her French class and I returned to working on my U3A materials.

Paris, Day 11

Well, the party is over - at least for the moment.  Virginia is back in school three afternoons a week and I am diligently preparing my U3A lectures on "The Winning of the American West."  Mornings are taken up with the usual mundane tasks (as if any task could ever be mundane in Paris).

We did have an interesting experience with the shopping this morning.  We wanted some plain white bread so, bought a loaf.  This evening, like a couple of school-kids, we decided in the latter hours of the evening to have some toast with Vegemite.  For the uninitiated, those who do not know what Vegemite is, click here. When we took the bread out to toast, we discovered, on opening the package, that it was crustless.  Now to some that may be no news but to us, provincials from the Antipodes, it was "passing strange."  If you don't have crust, how does the bread hold together?  How do you assure that children will have curly hair?  Besides we like crusts and there weren't any.

Yum...

Being put up a level at the Alliance has been a whole new experience for Virginia.  She has found that many of the fellow students in her class are professionals, unlike the last time she studied there when they were mostly kids doing a gap year.  These are people who already, in many cases, speak excellent French and she is very excited although she feels as if she will have to struggle and work hard to keep up her end in the class.  The class consists of two Vietnamese nuns, two very bright students from Italy, two Americans from New York, one of whom is a woman of Virginia's age group, the other a young male who spoke excellent French but seemed to be bored with the entire process.  There were several Chinese students, two students from Brazil, one of whom appeared to be a very senion Civil Servant.

As usual in such programmes, the class lasted for three hours with one eight minute toilet break.  This is not for the faint of heart or weak of bladder.  Any hope of a cup of coffee or a glass of wine was quickly dashed.  However after class the local watering hole filled quickly with students gasping for liquid refreshment.

After doing a couple of hours work on my own lectures, I decided to take a stroll.  As I walked down rue Le Pic I found myself wondering what in the world could have persuaded Virginia to torture herself this way.  I continued to contemplate this question as I sat in the Place du Tertre with a lovely Kir in front of me.

I suppose guilt got the better of me so  I dashed home to cook her favourite dinner, lamb in some form.  In this case chops.  Then as she began her homework I turned to a good book.

Paris, Day 10

Entrance to Metro station at Lamarck — Caulaincourt

 Sunday in Paris is a day for eating.  It appears as if the French get up late have a modest breakfast of orange juice, croissants and coffee and then exist until a main and very large meal at about 3:00 PM.  This is taken "en famille" either at home or at a restaurant.  The meal usually takes several hours and is as much a social event as a gastronomic feast.

One thing we have noticed, particularly when travelling on public transport, is the way in which many of the French treat the elderly, pregnant and disabled.  They seem to watch out for each other.  Let me give you some examples.  A woman with a pram tries to board the bus.  A lady near the door reaches down to take the front of the pram and lift it into the vehicle while a man holds the button which keeps the door open. An elderly man is standing and a young woman gets up to offer her seat.  He thanks her and takes it.  A few minutes later an elderly woman gets on the bus and the man who has just been given a seat stands up to offer it to the woman who declines saying she is only going another stop.  The bus driver is waiting at a traffic light and a woman with small children knocks on the bus door.  He opens it to let her board even though it is not a stop.  He will also let people off when he is held up by traffic even though, once again, he is not at a formal stop. Such stops are highly illegal, but courtesy seems to have a higher status than law in such instances.

We had a quiet Sunday and  went to the Gare de Lyon, the station from which most of the trains to the South depart.  This was to reconnoitre since we will be leaving for Marseilles from that station.  To get there we went on Line Number 14, the newest and most modern of lines. The trains are driverless and if you are in the first car, it is a little discombobulating to watch the train racing through the tunnel knowing there is nobody aboard in control.

A station on Line 14

After a bit of a wander around the station, we got back on the train and went to Bercy.  Here one finds Cour Saint-Émilion, where former warehouses have been converted into a complex featuring many trendy stores.  Since it was Sunday not much was open.

Cour Saint-Émilion

We wandered back to Madeleine where we change trains from the 14 line to the 12.  Before returning home, though, we had a bit of a walk around the church.  It is huge and impressive.

 La Madeleine

Apart from the Church, and the shops, one of the sights to be seen in this area is, believe it or not, the toilets.   Paris’ cheapest belle époque attraction is the public toilet  on the east side of La Madeleine, which dates from 1905.

Entrance to the toilets

Les Toilettes

 As well, the shopping in the area is very smart.  At the moment many of the windows are being decked out for Easter.  Here is one displaying chocolate.

An Easter Window near La Madeleine

As the weather was turning wet, we returned home and spent the afternoon reading before going out for a drink at a rather down-market neighbourhood bar.

Paris, Day 9

Jardin du Luxembourg

 Saturday is a day on which the parking inspectors seem to thrive.  Not surprisingly many of the residents park their cars in no-parking zones after a late Friday night optimistically hoping that on the following morning they will still find their cars where they left them. But that is not always the case. I wrote about this in some detail almost three years ago and if you want to read that particular blog, click here.

Today we watched with interest as one of the "removalists" tried to get out onto rue Francoeur with the two cars he had impounded, one of which he was towing.  First, he got out of the truck and went to a car that was parked in his way.  He opened the door, took off the hand brake, and moved it forward as far as it would go.  He then got back in the truck and moved forward.  Seeing he could still not quite make it around, he got out, slid two wheeled devices under the back of the car being towed and tried to push it sideways.  Because of the angle, he was unable to do so but was joined by someone from one of the cars that were blocked by his efforts and so, the car was shifted and the truck went off to wherever it is that the impounded cars are kept.  This provided a good bit of excitement for the neighbours who were hanging out the windows watching and shouting advice.

Manhandling an automobile

Another event on Saturday is the Marché aux Puces, the flea market.  To get there one must venture beyond the ring road around Paris, the Boulevard Périphérique.  The market covers seven hectares, but is composed of numerous smaller markets ranging from those that sell high end antiques to those that sell second-hand trash and cheap clothing.  Wandering around, always on guard against pick-pockets, is quite an experience.  It is a world of many languages and all sorts of interesting sights, sounds and smells. There didn't appear to be any food section, and unless one were extremely knowledgeable about antiques I suspect you would not find any bargains.  On the other hand one can find lots of cheap but sound clothing at significantly lower prices than in most of the shops.

Cheap Clothes

A button merchant

An Old Pram

A narrow alley in the Flea Market

The weather was holding at around 18 or 19 degrees Celsius and it wasvery pleasant.  So after lunch, having seen how one half of Paris lives, we thought it would be good to check out the other half.  We hopped on the number 85 bus which goes from almost our front door to the Luxembourg Gardens, passing on its way little treasures such as the Opera Garnier, the Palais Royal, the Louvre, the Musée d'Orsay, the Conciergerie, Saint Chappelle and Place Saint-Michel, to name but a few.

The gardens were lovely and bursting with people.  One thing that we have always found interesting is the policy of not allowing people on the grass.  Not only are there usually signs to warn one off, the police will tell you that you are violating the law should you happen to sit on the grass.  We were pleased to see that at least some areas are now marked as being available for sitting.  The gardens in France are very formal and laid out so that there are specific areas for doing things.  There are lots of seats so people can sit and watch the grass grow!  Oh well, to each his own.

We watched people playing tennis, pétanque and children sailing boats although we did not stop to watch the grass grow because if the weather stays as warm as it was today (and, it started to rain just as we were leaving) it is likely that the grass will grow far to fast for our ageing eyesight.

There is quite a bit of statuary in all of the gardens in Paris.  Most of it is in the classical style.

The skirts are short even in classical statuary

but every so often you come across a piece which is more modern and, for me at least, more interesting.

More modern statuary

As we left the garden and walked to where we would catch the bus back to Montmartre, I was taken by a lovely bookshop window.  There, next to a book on ornithology, was the "wise old owl."  It all seemed just right.

The wise old owl

Tonight is not a good night.  We will be losing an hour of our time in France.  You would think the government of M. Sarkozy would be considerate enough to turn off daylight saving until after we have left.

Paris, Days 7 and 8

It is unbelievable, but we have been in the flat for a week now. Yesterday was a quiet day.  I worked on my U3A talks for next term (Leone, please note) and Virginia went out to buy some light reading at Shakespeare and Co.

Last week when Virginia went to the Alliance Francais to enrol they tested her and took her money but were unable to confirm a place in the course she wanted to do.  They told her to come back today so that is what we did.  Our timing turned out to be bad because we arrived at the end of the lunch break when there were perhaps thirty students waiting to be seen to.  We were instructed to return later.  We took the opportunity to meander up rue Raspail, a walk which took us through a small local street market.

Street Market

The market was spread over several blocks and offered everything anyone in the neighbourhood might want.  There were butchers, fish merchants, vegetable stalls and all of the delicacies which might entice one to buy.  Unfortunately we didn't need anything and the market, which ran through most of the morning, was already beginning to close down.

Our walk took us past the beautiful Hotel Lutetia where we stopped to watch the acrobatics of the men working on cleaning the face of the hotel.

Acrobatic Cleaners

Cleaning the front of the Hotel Lutetia

Then it was over to Le Bon Marche, a very swanky department store.  The grocery department rivals that of Harrods in London and at the check-out the young woman in front of us notched up a bill of 394 euro for high end delicacies which could be packed in two plastic bags.  We hoped her guests appreciated it.We, on the other hand, walked out with some cheese and a packet of beetroot chips!

Front of Le Bon Marche

Interior of Le Bon Marche - Perfume Department

After strolling and window gazing for an hour or so we returned to the Alliance Francais where Virginia was finally able to complete her enrolment.  All of this took place in the very posh sixth arrondissment.  One thing that struck us as we looked in windows at the very lovely clothing was that while price seemed to be related to quality, it was not related to style.  Many of the shops which displayed lower priced goods had men's and women's dress that was as chic as that at far more expensive locations.

Something else interesting is the way in which residents grow plants outside their apartments.  Here, for example, is a picture of some plants on the sixth floor of an apartment building.  No, you didn't misread that, the sixth floor.

Window Plants

The afternoon was quite warm and we headed straight back to the area near Sacre Coeur where we sat for a further hour or two with a drink watching the tourists and a marvellous street entertainer.

Street Entertainment at Place du Tertre