Paris Journal, Part 5
6/14 Saturday
Went to Anne's concert at Ste. Chapelle, which will undoubtedly go down as one of the great highlights of the trip. As reputed, the stained glass here is gorgeous, especially with the sun pouring through the rose window. The trains were running less frequently since it was Saturday, so we were a few minutes late for our rendezvous with Anne before the concert, but she was kind enough to wait for us and shepherd us to the front row seats she had reserved. We were only a few feet from the chamber quintet for which Anne is one of the violinists, and this meant not only that we had a great view but also that the acoustics were fantastic (when I commented on this after the show, she told us that they get much more muddied toward the back of the hall). I remember reading an article a while ago talking about how concert hall acoustics are not nearly as well understood as one might expect, so that modern performance spaces sometimes end up with disappointing sound despite the best efforts of the architects--but apparently the medieval builders of Ste. Chapelle knew a thing or two. Some of the selections featured a children's choir and the sound was especially marvelous once the human voice was added to the mix. The swelling high notes in particular were rather sublime. Even more particularly, there was a boy soprano of about 11 who came forward for a solo that actually did send chills up my spine. He was right in front of me, singing with both great power and marvelous articulation, and I could hardly believe his slight body could produce such sound. When he was done, Suzanne and I gave each other a stunned look. I joked with Anne afterwards that it almost makes one understand the medieval tradition of castrati. Nicholas enjoyed the concert (only beginning to slump in the last fifteen minutes or so) and agreed that the boy soprano was amazing.
6/15 Sunday (Father's Day)
Suzanne's brother Scott, and his wife, Sue, arrived today after the same sort of all-nighter we pulled two weeks ago, and looking just as dazed as we were--but also happy to be in Paris. They hung out at our place for a while waiting to be able to check in at their hotel, and we fed them baguette sandwiches with bread from our favorite boulangerie (even in Paris, not all the bread is good, we have found).
After they headed off to catch a nap, Nicholas and Suzanne and I went for a Father's Day outing to one of the local parks--next to the Observatoire de Paris--that Nicholas had been waiting to show me (he also made me a sweet card at a pre-Father's Day arts and crafts session at the American library). One nice feature of this park is that it has several clumps of trees and bushes with room to move around inside--which means to Nicholas that they make great "forts" (and I can still pretty clearly recall the appeal a good fort had for me when I was a kid). We climbed around on some trees, ran around foolishly, gathered a few rocks, stirred up some "dust storms," and watched the French kids running around doing pretty much the same things American kids do. One little girl even helped us with a dust storm for a minute or two, before getting shy and running off.
For dinner, we met up with Scott and Sue for dinner near their hotel in Montparnasse (they have a great location near the famous cafes Le Rotund, Le Dome, and Le Select), at a place called Montparnasse 138, which comes highly recommended by Pudlo for its large menu, good prices, and comfortable atmosphere. It was a lovely meal, with the mussels in cream sauce with leeks standing out as an especially tasty appetizer. Everything Pudlo said was true--the food was good, the staff was friendly, and the prices have remained very reasonable (as was not the case at Les Olivades). I certainly expect to pay them another visit before we leave.
6/16 Monday
Sick day. Stomach bug for all three of us, but especially Suzanne. With a big effort of will I used some of the down-time to catch up on the journal for the previous days.
6/17 Tuesday
Today we were still recovering from the bug, especially in the morning, but managed to venture out for a return to Isle St. Louis with Scott and Sue. We enjoyed introducing them to one of our favorite places, and we ate some great ice cream. They had had a big morning, with lots of walking, so they eventually headed back to their hotel for a rest before dinner. We decided to stay out, giving Nicholas a chance to run around in the great little park by Notre Dame, where we also enjoyed the playing of a couple of pretty good young jazz musicians (sax and guitar) free-lancing for tips (I gave Nicholas a Euro to drop in the guitar case). Then we met back up with Scott and Sue for a wonderful dinner at Bistrot des Pingouins on Rue Daguerre. They really enjoyed their dishes, and it was fun to be able to take them to one of our neighborhood favorites.
6/18 Wednesday
Big day at the Louvre with Scott and Sue. We spent most of our time checking out the ancient statuary and relics, since these (rather than the paintings) were what Nicholas was most interested in seeing. He felt a particular affinity for the ancient Egyptians, noting their admiration for the big cats (many lions were in evidence). After a few hours, I was ready for fresh air, so I peeled off and ended up taking a long walk along the Seine on the Rive Gauche, perusing the many blocks of book stalls as i went. I had in mind a copy of Henry Miller's Quiet Days in Clichy (in French) that I had spotted the day before, far down the line, past Notre Dame. Wouldn't you know, when I finally found the place the book was gone, but along the way I snapped up a couple of Simenon's Inspector Maigret mysteries, including one that is mentioned by Hemingway in A Moveable Feast as possibly the first Simenon he ever read. These were a couple of cheap paperbacks and I hadn't quite sated my book-buying lust, so I returned to Shakespeare and Co. (which we had visited for the first time the day before with Scott and Sue) and picked up a nice copy of Hemingway's Collected Stories, making sure they impressed it with their coveted "Kilometer Zero" stamp. Then, since Nicholas and Suzanne were picking up Asian carry-out for dinner, I decided to take the opportunity to walk along St. Germaine Boulevard until I found a brasserie where I could stop for "les moules" (mussels). Suzanne and I had done this on the previous trip, and I had been looking for the chance to repeat the experience ever since we arrived. To my surprise, none of the many brasseries and cafes I passed seemed to have them, so I ended up walking west (after already walked east from the Louvre to Shakespeare and Co.) almost until I hit St. Germaine de Pres church. On that stretch of the boulevard, across from Les Deux Magots and Cafe Flore, and a few doors down from Brasserie Lip, I located the brasserie (La Taverne St. Germaine) at which we had originally had our moules, and sure enough they were still on the menu. By then I was hot, thirsty, hungry, and foot-weary, so the stakes were high--but they delivered with a tall cold glass of beer and big black pot of mussels. As a bonus, I had an enjoyable and extended conversation (after I recommended les moules) with a couple of visitors from Quebec. They were an older couple, with the hardy, rumpled look of habitual hikers and campers (as it turned out they were), who were having an extended vacation taking them to Greece, Vienna, Paris, the south of France, etc. She was also a poetry lover, and was quite pleased to find out I was a lit professor. We had a very nice exchange, agreeing that we liked forests and lakes, on the one hand, but also cities, on the other, and bid each other warm farewells at the end of the meal.
Went to Anne's concert at Ste. Chapelle, which will undoubtedly go down as one of the great highlights of the trip. As reputed, the stained glass here is gorgeous, especially with the sun pouring through the rose window. The trains were running less frequently since it was Saturday, so we were a few minutes late for our rendezvous with Anne before the concert, but she was kind enough to wait for us and shepherd us to the front row seats she had reserved. We were only a few feet from the chamber quintet for which Anne is one of the violinists, and this meant not only that we had a great view but also that the acoustics were fantastic (when I commented on this after the show, she told us that they get much more muddied toward the back of the hall). I remember reading an article a while ago talking about how concert hall acoustics are not nearly as well understood as one might expect, so that modern performance spaces sometimes end up with disappointing sound despite the best efforts of the architects--but apparently the medieval builders of Ste. Chapelle knew a thing or two. Some of the selections featured a children's choir and the sound was especially marvelous once the human voice was added to the mix. The swelling high notes in particular were rather sublime. Even more particularly, there was a boy soprano of about 11 who came forward for a solo that actually did send chills up my spine. He was right in front of me, singing with both great power and marvelous articulation, and I could hardly believe his slight body could produce such sound. When he was done, Suzanne and I gave each other a stunned look. I joked with Anne afterwards that it almost makes one understand the medieval tradition of castrati. Nicholas enjoyed the concert (only beginning to slump in the last fifteen minutes or so) and agreed that the boy soprano was amazing.
6/15 Sunday (Father's Day)
Suzanne's brother Scott, and his wife, Sue, arrived today after the same sort of all-nighter we pulled two weeks ago, and looking just as dazed as we were--but also happy to be in Paris. They hung out at our place for a while waiting to be able to check in at their hotel, and we fed them baguette sandwiches with bread from our favorite boulangerie (even in Paris, not all the bread is good, we have found).
After they headed off to catch a nap, Nicholas and Suzanne and I went for a Father's Day outing to one of the local parks--next to the Observatoire de Paris--that Nicholas had been waiting to show me (he also made me a sweet card at a pre-Father's Day arts and crafts session at the American library). One nice feature of this park is that it has several clumps of trees and bushes with room to move around inside--which means to Nicholas that they make great "forts" (and I can still pretty clearly recall the appeal a good fort had for me when I was a kid). We climbed around on some trees, ran around foolishly, gathered a few rocks, stirred up some "dust storms," and watched the French kids running around doing pretty much the same things American kids do. One little girl even helped us with a dust storm for a minute or two, before getting shy and running off.
For dinner, we met up with Scott and Sue for dinner near their hotel in Montparnasse (they have a great location near the famous cafes Le Rotund, Le Dome, and Le Select), at a place called Montparnasse 138, which comes highly recommended by Pudlo for its large menu, good prices, and comfortable atmosphere. It was a lovely meal, with the mussels in cream sauce with leeks standing out as an especially tasty appetizer. Everything Pudlo said was true--the food was good, the staff was friendly, and the prices have remained very reasonable (as was not the case at Les Olivades). I certainly expect to pay them another visit before we leave.
6/16 Monday
Sick day. Stomach bug for all three of us, but especially Suzanne. With a big effort of will I used some of the down-time to catch up on the journal for the previous days.
6/17 Tuesday
Today we were still recovering from the bug, especially in the morning, but managed to venture out for a return to Isle St. Louis with Scott and Sue. We enjoyed introducing them to one of our favorite places, and we ate some great ice cream. They had had a big morning, with lots of walking, so they eventually headed back to their hotel for a rest before dinner. We decided to stay out, giving Nicholas a chance to run around in the great little park by Notre Dame, where we also enjoyed the playing of a couple of pretty good young jazz musicians (sax and guitar) free-lancing for tips (I gave Nicholas a Euro to drop in the guitar case). Then we met back up with Scott and Sue for a wonderful dinner at Bistrot des Pingouins on Rue Daguerre. They really enjoyed their dishes, and it was fun to be able to take them to one of our neighborhood favorites.
6/18 Wednesday
Big day at the Louvre with Scott and Sue. We spent most of our time checking out the ancient statuary and relics, since these (rather than the paintings) were what Nicholas was most interested in seeing. He felt a particular affinity for the ancient Egyptians, noting their admiration for the big cats (many lions were in evidence). After a few hours, I was ready for fresh air, so I peeled off and ended up taking a long walk along the Seine on the Rive Gauche, perusing the many blocks of book stalls as i went. I had in mind a copy of Henry Miller's Quiet Days in Clichy (in French) that I had spotted the day before, far down the line, past Notre Dame. Wouldn't you know, when I finally found the place the book was gone, but along the way I snapped up a couple of Simenon's Inspector Maigret mysteries, including one that is mentioned by Hemingway in A Moveable Feast as possibly the first Simenon he ever read. These were a couple of cheap paperbacks and I hadn't quite sated my book-buying lust, so I returned to Shakespeare and Co. (which we had visited for the first time the day before with Scott and Sue) and picked up a nice copy of Hemingway's Collected Stories, making sure they impressed it with their coveted "Kilometer Zero" stamp. Then, since Nicholas and Suzanne were picking up Asian carry-out for dinner, I decided to take the opportunity to walk along St. Germaine Boulevard until I found a brasserie where I could stop for "les moules" (mussels). Suzanne and I had done this on the previous trip, and I had been looking for the chance to repeat the experience ever since we arrived. To my surprise, none of the many brasseries and cafes I passed seemed to have them, so I ended up walking west (after already walked east from the Louvre to Shakespeare and Co.) almost until I hit St. Germaine de Pres church. On that stretch of the boulevard, across from Les Deux Magots and Cafe Flore, and a few doors down from Brasserie Lip, I located the brasserie (La Taverne St. Germaine) at which we had originally had our moules, and sure enough they were still on the menu. By then I was hot, thirsty, hungry, and foot-weary, so the stakes were high--but they delivered with a tall cold glass of beer and big black pot of mussels. As a bonus, I had an enjoyable and extended conversation (after I recommended les moules) with a couple of visitors from Quebec. They were an older couple, with the hardy, rumpled look of habitual hikers and campers (as it turned out they were), who were having an extended vacation taking them to Greece, Vienna, Paris, the south of France, etc. She was also a poetry lover, and was quite pleased to find out I was a lit professor. We had a very nice exchange, agreeing that we liked forests and lakes, on the one hand, but also cities, on the other, and bid each other warm farewells at the end of the meal.
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