Paris Journal, Part 2
6/5 Thursday
Suzanne taught today, and Nicholas and I went off to Le Jardin des Tuileries. The main reason for this destination was that Nicholas wanted to go somewhere with rocks and sticks, so he could experiment with fulcrums, and so he could look for rocks to collect. Not all that many kids in evidence, except for those on class trips. No play structures, and as with the Jardin du Luxembourg there were none of those little sailboats in evidence--though they are mentioned in all the guide books, and we remember them from our last trip. All in all, it was a rather tiring expedition. We've been walking our feet off since we got here, and had an especially big day yesterday. Also, the Metro is proving to be extremely crowded almost every time we use it, and we have to use it--often changing trains a couple of times--to get to most places.
We end up putting together a quick dinner of whatever was left in the fridge or the kitchen--some bean salad, some pasta, baguette and goat cheese or butter, some fruit, etc. Nicholas was pretty excited about this "scavenger hunt" approach to dinner.
6/6 Friday
Shopping at Place d'Italie. Writing. Bistrot des Pingouins.
Suzanne and Nicholas went shopping at Place d' Italie to get mugs, an umbrella, a toy for Nicholas (promised during yesterday's tiring excursion), and some other odds and ends. I stayed home to do some reading and writing. I write to clear my mind and sharpen my wits. Even the merest jottings serve to establish some perspective and impose some organization, however minimal or haphazard. This morning I woke up burdened by a sense of the accumulation of large chunks of undigested experience. In the five days we've been here we've been on the go, scrambling to figure out the business of living in a foreign city, to get Suz up and running with her teaching, to see some sights, etc. And before we came I was pushing as hard as I could to get my Oppen manuscript to the press, finish up the academic year, write my annual reports, get ready to leave the country, etc. By now I'm feeling a pretty serious need to slow down a little, get some rest, and do some thinking of a more meditative and less hurried sort than I have managed lately. But at the same time, I also want to "make the most" of my Paris experience. That latter urge sounds benign enough, but it can turn you into one of those crazed tourists hurtling from one monument to the next if you're not careful.
We went to Pistro des Pinguoins for dinner (I successfully made a reservation by phone in advance). This place was recommended by Pudlo as a friendly, simple restaurant, and that's exactly what it was--very relaxed (though also very busy), with a strong neighborhood feel. Despite the latter, they also had menus in French and English (we looked at both, and they were the same--not different as we warned they can be at some places). We will definitely return. I was disappointed at first that there was not a range of fish offerings (I was hoping for the cod mentioned in Pudlo), meaning that I had to order salmon, which I eat pretty often back home. But my filet was moist and delicious, accompanied by very simple greens and potatoes. Struck me as a French version of down-home cooking, very satisfying. Suzanne also had salmon, baked in a fillo-like pastry, with green salad. I had escargots for an appetizer--quite tasty in an herb sauce (definitely featuring basil). These came with a special little implement perfectly sized and shaped to hold the shell as one works to prize out the snail. One snail wouldn't come out and I was happy to get a laugh from the waitress with my attempt at a small joke in French: "Cette escargot a gagne. Il reste dans la maison." Or : "This snail has won. He remains in his house.")
6/7 Saturday
Return to the Marais. Le Colimacon. Place des Vosges. BHV. Notre Dame on the weekend. The crushing crowd (la foule).
Today we made our much anticipated return to Le Marais, the district that was our home base (we stayed at Le Caron de Beaumarchais) during our week-long Paris fling before Nicholas was born (I took a picture of Nicholas and Suzanne in front of our old hotel). We got off the metro at St. Michel and walked past Notre Dame--and with the weekend crowd, there was a line to get in today. In fact, there was a fairly crushing crowd (we learned the name for this: la foule) just about everywhere we went. Still, we had fun walking the ancient and picturesque cobblestone streets (very different from the wide avenues of the neighborhood where we're staying now), even if they were full of tourists like ourselves. Walking up Rue Vielle du Temple we passed first Le Caron de Beaumarchais, then Les Philosophes (a cafe), and then Le Colimacon, our beloved little restaurant. Suzanne is planning to take her class out to dinner here, so we stopped in and found out that she could reserve a special room for the class, which would have its own waiter and an earlier than usual serving time to accommodate their schedule. The "events" person for Yale hadn't been able to set this up by phone, so stopping by proved to be worthwhile, quite aside from the pleasant shot of nostalgia. While Suz and Nicholas checked out the dining room, I made conversation with a young chef and his friend, who were having a smoke outside. My French kept the exchange limited, but I did manage to explain that we had frequented the restaurant on a visit six or seven years ago. The chef and his friend complained that the area had gotten "plus doux," that is, softer and calmer than it used to be, with too many tourists on the scene now. That reminded me that one night we had gone to the restaurant later than usual--to realize that in addition to be a charming neighborhood restaurant it had a thriving gay scene.
Placed des Vosges was full of tourists too, but still possessed its remembered stately beauty. After so much negotiating of narrow, crowded streets, Nicholas was thrilled to be able to run free for a bit. We had bubble-blowing paraphernalia, so he chased bubbles like a happy fool.
Heading back, we were getting pretty tired, and were also in need of a bathroom. Here and there they have some little public toilet cabins, but the one in this area was broken, so we were happy to find out that the big bargain department-store BHV, near Hotel de Ville, had rest rooms on the fifth floor. We were also pleased to find an eatery, also on the fifth floor, where we could get double scoops (deux boules) of ice cream for 2 euros, rather than having to pay three times as much at one of the chic local cafes. That recharged our batteries enough for the ride back home, or rather to Place Denfert Rochereau, where we sought out the sushi restaurant on Rue Daguerre, as we had promised Nicholas we would. The sushi was just okay, but the food was relatively inexpensive, and N. chowed down on his California roll until he was nicely sated. It was good to get a solid meal after another big day of walking and metro-riding, and even more so because we had to spend a foot-weary, belly-grumbling half hour waiting for the restaurant to open at 7 o'clock, which seems to be the earliest possible serving time around these parts.
Suzanne taught today, and Nicholas and I went off to Le Jardin des Tuileries. The main reason for this destination was that Nicholas wanted to go somewhere with rocks and sticks, so he could experiment with fulcrums, and so he could look for rocks to collect. Not all that many kids in evidence, except for those on class trips. No play structures, and as with the Jardin du Luxembourg there were none of those little sailboats in evidence--though they are mentioned in all the guide books, and we remember them from our last trip. All in all, it was a rather tiring expedition. We've been walking our feet off since we got here, and had an especially big day yesterday. Also, the Metro is proving to be extremely crowded almost every time we use it, and we have to use it--often changing trains a couple of times--to get to most places.
We end up putting together a quick dinner of whatever was left in the fridge or the kitchen--some bean salad, some pasta, baguette and goat cheese or butter, some fruit, etc. Nicholas was pretty excited about this "scavenger hunt" approach to dinner.
6/6 Friday
Shopping at Place d'Italie. Writing. Bistrot des Pingouins.
Suzanne and Nicholas went shopping at Place d' Italie to get mugs, an umbrella, a toy for Nicholas (promised during yesterday's tiring excursion), and some other odds and ends. I stayed home to do some reading and writing. I write to clear my mind and sharpen my wits. Even the merest jottings serve to establish some perspective and impose some organization, however minimal or haphazard. This morning I woke up burdened by a sense of the accumulation of large chunks of undigested experience. In the five days we've been here we've been on the go, scrambling to figure out the business of living in a foreign city, to get Suz up and running with her teaching, to see some sights, etc. And before we came I was pushing as hard as I could to get my Oppen manuscript to the press, finish up the academic year, write my annual reports, get ready to leave the country, etc. By now I'm feeling a pretty serious need to slow down a little, get some rest, and do some thinking of a more meditative and less hurried sort than I have managed lately. But at the same time, I also want to "make the most" of my Paris experience. That latter urge sounds benign enough, but it can turn you into one of those crazed tourists hurtling from one monument to the next if you're not careful.
We went to Pistro des Pinguoins for dinner (I successfully made a reservation by phone in advance). This place was recommended by Pudlo as a friendly, simple restaurant, and that's exactly what it was--very relaxed (though also very busy), with a strong neighborhood feel. Despite the latter, they also had menus in French and English (we looked at both, and they were the same--not different as we warned they can be at some places). We will definitely return. I was disappointed at first that there was not a range of fish offerings (I was hoping for the cod mentioned in Pudlo), meaning that I had to order salmon, which I eat pretty often back home. But my filet was moist and delicious, accompanied by very simple greens and potatoes. Struck me as a French version of down-home cooking, very satisfying. Suzanne also had salmon, baked in a fillo-like pastry, with green salad. I had escargots for an appetizer--quite tasty in an herb sauce (definitely featuring basil). These came with a special little implement perfectly sized and shaped to hold the shell as one works to prize out the snail. One snail wouldn't come out and I was happy to get a laugh from the waitress with my attempt at a small joke in French: "Cette escargot a gagne. Il reste dans la maison." Or : "This snail has won. He remains in his house.")
6/7 Saturday
Return to the Marais. Le Colimacon. Place des Vosges. BHV. Notre Dame on the weekend. The crushing crowd (la foule).
Today we made our much anticipated return to Le Marais, the district that was our home base (we stayed at Le Caron de Beaumarchais) during our week-long Paris fling before Nicholas was born (I took a picture of Nicholas and Suzanne in front of our old hotel). We got off the metro at St. Michel and walked past Notre Dame--and with the weekend crowd, there was a line to get in today. In fact, there was a fairly crushing crowd (we learned the name for this: la foule) just about everywhere we went. Still, we had fun walking the ancient and picturesque cobblestone streets (very different from the wide avenues of the neighborhood where we're staying now), even if they were full of tourists like ourselves. Walking up Rue Vielle du Temple we passed first Le Caron de Beaumarchais, then Les Philosophes (a cafe), and then Le Colimacon, our beloved little restaurant. Suzanne is planning to take her class out to dinner here, so we stopped in and found out that she could reserve a special room for the class, which would have its own waiter and an earlier than usual serving time to accommodate their schedule. The "events" person for Yale hadn't been able to set this up by phone, so stopping by proved to be worthwhile, quite aside from the pleasant shot of nostalgia. While Suz and Nicholas checked out the dining room, I made conversation with a young chef and his friend, who were having a smoke outside. My French kept the exchange limited, but I did manage to explain that we had frequented the restaurant on a visit six or seven years ago. The chef and his friend complained that the area had gotten "plus doux," that is, softer and calmer than it used to be, with too many tourists on the scene now. That reminded me that one night we had gone to the restaurant later than usual--to realize that in addition to be a charming neighborhood restaurant it had a thriving gay scene.
Placed des Vosges was full of tourists too, but still possessed its remembered stately beauty. After so much negotiating of narrow, crowded streets, Nicholas was thrilled to be able to run free for a bit. We had bubble-blowing paraphernalia, so he chased bubbles like a happy fool.
Heading back, we were getting pretty tired, and were also in need of a bathroom. Here and there they have some little public toilet cabins, but the one in this area was broken, so we were happy to find out that the big bargain department-store BHV, near Hotel de Ville, had rest rooms on the fifth floor. We were also pleased to find an eatery, also on the fifth floor, where we could get double scoops (deux boules) of ice cream for 2 euros, rather than having to pay three times as much at one of the chic local cafes. That recharged our batteries enough for the ride back home, or rather to Place Denfert Rochereau, where we sought out the sushi restaurant on Rue Daguerre, as we had promised Nicholas we would. The sushi was just okay, but the food was relatively inexpensive, and N. chowed down on his California roll until he was nicely sated. It was good to get a solid meal after another big day of walking and metro-riding, and even more so because we had to spend a foot-weary, belly-grumbling half hour waiting for the restaurant to open at 7 o'clock, which seems to be the earliest possible serving time around these parts.
posted by Steve Shoemaker at 6:19 AM
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