Paris Journal, Part 7
Sunday 6/22
Sunday is the biggest day for the fresh market, with the most goodies, so I brought home a feast fit for a king for lunch: warm baguettes, goat cheese, shrimp, tomatoes , cherries, and strawberries. I took Nicholas so Suzanne could work on grading her first batch of papers, then I headed off for some reading and writing in the Jardin d' Observatoire. It was quite hot again, so I sought as much shade as I could. The apartment was pretty hot too, and we began to wonder what it would be like here later in the summer. Late in the afternoon, Suzanne and Nicholas pioneered the use of the #21 bus (much more pleasant than the Metro on a hot day), catching it at Glaciere and riding up to the Jardin du Luxembourg. They caught a really good and sort of zany New Orleans-style brass band playing just outside the park--with male band members wearing dresses, crazy wigs, etc.
Monday 6/23
More paper-grading. A little cooler. Jardin du Luxembourg for reading and writing and les moules again for me. Got whooped by one of the old chess guys in the park, in a game of 5-minute blitz.
Had our first conversation about home and the things we miss, and how we'll be going back in less than two weeks. Nicholas said not sadly but with a smile, "I love my home," and talked about looking forward to seeing all his "animals," a category that I think probably encompasses both our two cats, Missy and Tazzie, and all his stuffed animals (except Snow Leopard and Wolfie, who are here with us).
Tuesday 6/24
Quite hot today, and we ended up making a long, sweaty expedition down the Champs Elysees and to the Arc de Triomphe. Of course, both the view of the arch (apparently the largest in the world) and the view from it are pretty fantastic, and it was fun to meander along the famous avenue. For me that stroll was particularly resonant because I associate it with Proust and Swann's Way, but it was too hot and Nicholas was too tired for us to try to make sure we located the Allee Marcel Proust, which is somewhere in the Jardin des Champs-Elysees. I would have liked to spend a little time sitting on a bench imagining the young Proust and the childhood crush who became Gilberte in the book frolicking in the garden. But since Proust wrote most of his book sitting in bed in a cork-lined room, I guess I don't have to go there to do the imagining.
Even though we avoided all the stairs by taking the elevator up and down the Arc, we were pretty beat by the end. We could only manage to stagger to the first cafe we hit after we emerged from the underground tunnel that gets you back and forth across the heavily trafficked circle that makes an island of the Arch and its immediate surround. It was an Italian joint so we got an early dinner of pizza and spaghetti (Nicholas is always happy to see this on a menu) while we sat on the patio, amid the roar of Champs Elysees traffic and with the Arc looming close by.
Wednesday 6/25
Another big expedition with Suzanne's class, this time to the Centre Pompidou (which we missed on our last visit). I can see how it must have been absolutely shocking when this massive modern structure, all bristling pipes and bright colors, was erected in the midst of the Beaubourg neighborhood, with its quaint and picturesque buildings. The juxtaposition is still striking, but the Centre has settled in as an institution now, drawing more visitors than the Louvre for its exhibits of modern and contemporary works. The views of the city that one can get through the giant glass-walled windows of the terraces (one can't actually go out on these, unfortunately) are nothing short of astounding, and I took some "artistic" shots that I think should come out pretty well (even with digital, one is never entirely sure how the image on the little screen will translate once its transferred and enlarged). And of course I found much to like in the paintings too, especially a room full of Matisses that I hadn't been familiar with, and also Robert Delaunay's brightly colored abstractions--among many, many other works. One can never take in everything that one would like, but I especially regret not going to see Brancusi's Atelier (studio) which has been preserved in a separate building on the museum's plaza.
Nicholas was well rested after a big sleep, and he bowled us over once again with his museum-going capacity, outlasting both Suzanne and me as he also had at the Louvre. After we were finished, we grabbed a couple of crepes and some ice cream and sat refreshing ourselves on the museum plaza, which is a scene in itself, with tourists from all over the world gathered in little clumps dotted across its expanse. At 7 o'clock, we met up again with Suzanne's students (Nicholas had enjoyed running into parts of "the group" as we perused the art) for dinner at Georges, the splashy, chic, and fairly expensive restaurant on the top floor of the restaurant. The entire, very large space is surrounded by floor-to-ceiling glass walls, and there are odd little curvy alcoves, painted bright pink, that make you feel as if you're inside a giant shell. We weren't seated in one of these, but in the central space at a long table running along the south-facing window/wall. Nicholas's seat was directly in line with a straight-on view of Notre Dame, which looked remarkably close. As we ate our food, drank our wine, and talked about our various Paris experiences, the day softened into twilight, the panorama of the city laying open before us as if it might just be ours to possess.
Sunday is the biggest day for the fresh market, with the most goodies, so I brought home a feast fit for a king for lunch: warm baguettes, goat cheese, shrimp, tomatoes , cherries, and strawberries. I took Nicholas so Suzanne could work on grading her first batch of papers, then I headed off for some reading and writing in the Jardin d' Observatoire. It was quite hot again, so I sought as much shade as I could. The apartment was pretty hot too, and we began to wonder what it would be like here later in the summer. Late in the afternoon, Suzanne and Nicholas pioneered the use of the #21 bus (much more pleasant than the Metro on a hot day), catching it at Glaciere and riding up to the Jardin du Luxembourg. They caught a really good and sort of zany New Orleans-style brass band playing just outside the park--with male band members wearing dresses, crazy wigs, etc.
Monday 6/23
More paper-grading. A little cooler. Jardin du Luxembourg for reading and writing and les moules again for me. Got whooped by one of the old chess guys in the park, in a game of 5-minute blitz.
Had our first conversation about home and the things we miss, and how we'll be going back in less than two weeks. Nicholas said not sadly but with a smile, "I love my home," and talked about looking forward to seeing all his "animals," a category that I think probably encompasses both our two cats, Missy and Tazzie, and all his stuffed animals (except Snow Leopard and Wolfie, who are here with us).
Tuesday 6/24
Quite hot today, and we ended up making a long, sweaty expedition down the Champs Elysees and to the Arc de Triomphe. Of course, both the view of the arch (apparently the largest in the world) and the view from it are pretty fantastic, and it was fun to meander along the famous avenue. For me that stroll was particularly resonant because I associate it with Proust and Swann's Way, but it was too hot and Nicholas was too tired for us to try to make sure we located the Allee Marcel Proust, which is somewhere in the Jardin des Champs-Elysees. I would have liked to spend a little time sitting on a bench imagining the young Proust and the childhood crush who became Gilberte in the book frolicking in the garden. But since Proust wrote most of his book sitting in bed in a cork-lined room, I guess I don't have to go there to do the imagining.
Even though we avoided all the stairs by taking the elevator up and down the Arc, we were pretty beat by the end. We could only manage to stagger to the first cafe we hit after we emerged from the underground tunnel that gets you back and forth across the heavily trafficked circle that makes an island of the Arch and its immediate surround. It was an Italian joint so we got an early dinner of pizza and spaghetti (Nicholas is always happy to see this on a menu) while we sat on the patio, amid the roar of Champs Elysees traffic and with the Arc looming close by.
Wednesday 6/25
Another big expedition with Suzanne's class, this time to the Centre Pompidou (which we missed on our last visit). I can see how it must have been absolutely shocking when this massive modern structure, all bristling pipes and bright colors, was erected in the midst of the Beaubourg neighborhood, with its quaint and picturesque buildings. The juxtaposition is still striking, but the Centre has settled in as an institution now, drawing more visitors than the Louvre for its exhibits of modern and contemporary works. The views of the city that one can get through the giant glass-walled windows of the terraces (one can't actually go out on these, unfortunately) are nothing short of astounding, and I took some "artistic" shots that I think should come out pretty well (even with digital, one is never entirely sure how the image on the little screen will translate once its transferred and enlarged). And of course I found much to like in the paintings too, especially a room full of Matisses that I hadn't been familiar with, and also Robert Delaunay's brightly colored abstractions--among many, many other works. One can never take in everything that one would like, but I especially regret not going to see Brancusi's Atelier (studio) which has been preserved in a separate building on the museum's plaza.
Nicholas was well rested after a big sleep, and he bowled us over once again with his museum-going capacity, outlasting both Suzanne and me as he also had at the Louvre. After we were finished, we grabbed a couple of crepes and some ice cream and sat refreshing ourselves on the museum plaza, which is a scene in itself, with tourists from all over the world gathered in little clumps dotted across its expanse. At 7 o'clock, we met up again with Suzanne's students (Nicholas had enjoyed running into parts of "the group" as we perused the art) for dinner at Georges, the splashy, chic, and fairly expensive restaurant on the top floor of the restaurant. The entire, very large space is surrounded by floor-to-ceiling glass walls, and there are odd little curvy alcoves, painted bright pink, that make you feel as if you're inside a giant shell. We weren't seated in one of these, but in the central space at a long table running along the south-facing window/wall. Nicholas's seat was directly in line with a straight-on view of Notre Dame, which looked remarkably close. As we ate our food, drank our wine, and talked about our various Paris experiences, the day softened into twilight, the panorama of the city laying open before us as if it might just be ours to possess.
posted by Steve Shoemaker at 6:15 AM
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