tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-55333105746231306622024-03-19T02:45:20.349-07:00ParisCharlesShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11548475957690019501noreply@blogger.comBlogger25125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5533310574623130662.post-50070457447629429422019-04-06T13:18:00.001-07:002019-04-06T13:18:57.262-07:00CharlesShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11548475957690019501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5533310574623130662.post-38654277686916641362013-09-16T12:59:00.001-07:002013-09-16T12:59:36.795-07:00Link to my Facebook Business Page<a href="http://www.homesinresearchtriangle.com/">http://www.homesinresearchtriangle.com/</a>CharlesShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11548475957690019501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5533310574623130662.post-73878347638424522162013-08-14T12:38:00.003-07:002013-08-14T12:38:58.022-07:00
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<h1 style="margin: 12pt 0in 3pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Paris 2004<o:p></o:p></span></span></h1>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
Letter from Paris, No. 1<o:p> </o:p></div>
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Wednesday, April 28, 2004, as the
romantic sound of the <u>poubel</u>, the very efficient garbage service of
Paris underneath our windows, the flashing light on the top of the truck in my
eyes, our first full day in Paris draws to a close.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We arrived a week ago after a difficult
change of planes in Philadelphia, running from the C terminal to the new
International Terminal and - against all odds - two breathless senior citizens
were boarded before the doors closed, and we were en route. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
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On arrival in Paris, and against
all odds, our suitcase did arrive, the last two, and then we were greeted by
the “April in Paris” cold, heavy rain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Good luck, we had a taxi driver, a charming woman, neatly coiffed, who
knew our section of Paris. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
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The next day we took a taxi back
to Charles de Gaulle Airport and a short flight to Rome.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were looking forward to a reunion with
dear friends that we had known in Saigon and had last seen in New York when
Klaus was at the German Mission to the United Nations. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
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From Paris to Rome via Alitalia
was pleasant, an excellent cold lunch was served and, interestingly enough, the
three flight attendants were men not the accustomed gorgeous Italian young
ladies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On arrival our suitcase came
quickly and we looked for taxis.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
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We were accosted civilly several
times by men in attired in black suits and white shirts and black ties offering
cut rate fare to Rome, Euro 15 each.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
were tired of walking so we agreed, and followed our new guide to his little bus,
already packed with luggage and other passengers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His English was better than my Italian, he
knew the neighborhood where we were going and off we went.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So for Euro 30 plus a Euro 5 tip we got
quickly to our destination.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The normal
fare would be Euro 45 or more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Taking
his card, we promised to call him for the return trip to the airport.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Moreno Perucci, Limousine e Minibus, tel 338
2820 554. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
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With the exception of Monday
morning, during our stay the sky in Rome was as grey as Paris, and rain showers
were frequent.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
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We arrived at Klaus and
Angelica’s house in about 20 minutes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
The German Embassy is s</span>et in a very large garden behind walls, it is just outside the walls of
Rome at the<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Angelica does not drive in Rome so she has
learned to ride the city bus system to the surprise of many of her German,
Italian and other expatriate friends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Klaus was out-of-town for the day but would join us later at the German
Cultural Center where an amateur jazz group from Berlin would be playing with
food and drink accompanying it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
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Angelica ordered a taxi to take
us into town and while the typical Roman taxi driver went with verve, unnerving
us not by his speed or his audacity, normal in Rome, but his attention to the
GPS screen in front of him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While we
caught up on each other’s news, children, and travel, Angelica let drop that
the next time we came to Europe they would be in Paris!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Klaus's nomination as German Ambassador to Paris had been accepted and they would
leave Rome in July and take up residence in Paris in September.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We expressed delight, of
course, as we would be back in the fall, but disappointment as we were looking
forward to another visit to Rome soon.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
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Saturday afternoon we had planned
to take a bus to downtown Rome and look for Bramanti’s Tempietto.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Klaus volunteered to drive us there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He had grown up in Rome, had most of his
primarily school education there, where he had also learned to drive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He had served there after his tour in Saigon,
so obviously knows Rome and speaks Italian as a native.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The trip up to the Tempietto was challenging
in a heavy rain and, as we turned into the court yard the skies really opened
up and we were deluged by a heavy fall of large hail.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We decided to give up on sightseeing that day
and return to the house where Klaus’ wife, Angelica, offered welcomed
refreshments.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
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Sunday Klaus drove us to Ostia
Antica.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Under a grey sky and cold breeze
we explored the ruins.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a
fascinating look into the life and times of a commercial port town in early
Christian Rome.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then on to lunch across
the road from the fishing port at the <u>L’Orologia di Fiumicino</u>, via della
Torre Clementina, 114, 00054 Roma, tel. 066505251, closed Wednesdays.<o:p></o:p></div>
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It is a very small restaurant
where Klaus is well known; all four tables were filled, one with a family of
12.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Colette and I had tagliatelli with a
mix of mussels and langoutines in their shells, and the tagliatelli had bits of
fish and shrimp. Klaus had a salad of<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>and<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The first course was followed by a whole baked
sea bass, accompanied by a light, chilled white wine.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
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However, on Monday, the day
before our departure we took the city bus into town and we had a lovely morning
permitting us to renew our acquaintances with the Piazza Novena, the Pantheon,
and trudging up a hill, the Scuderie del Quirinale, the wonderful art gallery
across the top of the hill from the offices of the president of Italy, to see
an exhibition of some Velasquez, Benin, and others on loan from El Pardon,
London, Paris and Budapest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Occasionally
as our needs we required, I tried what is left of my Italian on policemen or
innocent passersby and, with one exception, a lady with a tiny baby, all had
enough English to solve our problem.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
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After the Pantheon, tired,
hungry, we crossed the Corso and into a little street that we hoped would lead
to the Scedure di Quirinale.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A few
steps, then to the right, and we nearly tripped over two neat little tables
with chairs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We went inside the little
bar, the sandwiches looked good, as they always do in Rome.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We selected two different ones, the barman
put them in a grill, and after we sat down, he brought them to us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Delicious, with a bottle of water, followed
by a black coffee, we then had to the courage to continue.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The little bar is <u>Wine Café al Corson</u>,
Vicolo Sciarra, 60 -00186 (angele via del Corso).<o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
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Now back in Paris, not much
warmer than Rome, and we are faced with the housekeeping problems left over
from a nephew who lived in our <u>pied a terre</u> for the last school
year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He did not have many housekeeping
skills.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The telephone answering machine
had to be replaced, the telephone does not work quite right, so we make trips
to renew batteries.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
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However, our <u>pied a terre</u>,
actually a <u>pied </u>on the first floor, is comfortable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Built about 1850 +/-, probably as
lower-income rental properties, with dubious plumbing and a water pipe on the
landing, it has charm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The previous
owner chopped out the plaster in the roof to divulge the beams, some of them
badly eaten by what ever bugs eat beams nominally covered in plaster.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The kitchen ceiling is a disaster since a
long, slow leak from the kitchen above it has left stains, hanging bits of
plaster, and each morning finds bits of and pieces on the floor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A year ago at the annual meeting of the condo
association it was agreed and promised that repairs would be made by the
association; it has not be done yet.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
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What we call our section of Paris
is not what most of you know from your several trips here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We live in a working class neighborhood in
the third arrondisement.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our zip code is
Paris 75003.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Known as the <u>marais</u>,
it is one of the oldest parts of Paris.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Our apartment is located on <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">rue de
la Notre Dame de Nazareth</i>, abbreviated as <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">rue de la ND de Nazareth</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Its great advantage is we are equal distance from three Metro (subway)
stations, Place de la Republique, Temple, and Arts et Metier.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is a 10-15 minute walk from here to the
Picasso Museum, to the Beaubourg Museum, and five minutes more to my favorite
Paris department store, the Bazar de l’Hotel de Ville, and then the Seine.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Our neighborhood is very
mixed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The shops on the Rue de ND de
Nazareth are primarily wholesale dealers in leather work and sport
fashions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The shopkeepers are Algerian,
Tunisian, and Jewish.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Halfway between
our apartment and the rue du Temple is one of the larger synagogues of
Paris.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have only one bistro, on the
corner of our street and rue Volta, two doors to the left.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Happily for us, it is open only during the
week from 8 AM to 6 PM so while it is busy during the day, evenings and
weekends it is quiet.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
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On the corner of rue Volta and
Rue de Vertbois is a restaurant, Le Clos de Vertbois, of which we have heard
very good reports.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On the other side of
the street is an Argentinean steakhouse that has good business, and to its
right is Ami Louis, one of the more expensive restaurants of Paris.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When we are here and Chirac brings his friend
Bill Clinton there to dinner, our neighborhood is sealed off from the outside
world.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
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Of our neighbors, the most
important of which is, of course, the <u>boulanger</u>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Originally Tunisian, like so many of our
neighbors, he has fresh bread four or five times a day, <u>baguettes</u> are
the first in demand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He also has some
patisserie, and now soft, cold drinks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>For the occasional urgent purchase of salad, potatoes, milk, even a
bottle of wine the Tunisian to the left on rue Vertbois is always glad to see
us and, after ceremonial greetings, is ready to help us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
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Our apartment is small, very
small.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The kitchen has a window, an
antique table in front of it, a small refrigerator sitting in a support so we
do not have to get on our hands and knees to look for some important element of
our dinner, and a wonderful stove.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
stove has three gas burners, one electric burner, an oven with an electric,
still unused rotisserie and, wonder of wonders, in the very bottom a very
efficient little dish washer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is
no room for a laundry machine in the kitchen, much less a dryer.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
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Washing clothes and household
linens in no problem for the coin-operated washing place is just around the
corner off rue Volta.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Colette puts
everything in little trolley (Thrift Shop, Chapel Hill) and she is there in
about three minutes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One load costs Euro
3.50, and the dryer Euro 1.50. When she returns she always has observations to
share about the other customers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Once
there were about five large young men and women trying to put all their dirty
clothes in an oversized washer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They
asked Colette’s advice in broken French; she assisted them and learned they
were from Georgia, in Russia, not the U.S.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
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In a little room in the back of
the coin-operated washing machines is a cubby hole where a woman operates a
little sewing business.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Recently Colette
was there when a young man arrived to have a pair of slacks shortened.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With little awareness that he was not alone,
he took off one pair, pulled on the new ones, and the sewing lady pinned him up
and asked Colette’s advice on the length.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The young man then pulled off the new pair, put on the others, and left.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
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We cannot tell you much about the
restaurants of Paris.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Lunch, at home, is
usually a sandwich made from half a <u>baguette</u>, split in half, with
excellent mayonnaise that comes in a tube that has a little Dijon mustard mixed
in, and a slice of ham.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Each trip we
plan an evening out but we have yet to make it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We would like to try <u>Le Clos de Vertbois</u> but it does not start
serving until after 8 p.m.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But after an
afternoon outside, at a museum, window shopping, household errands, we are
ready to eat at our normal dinner time, 7 p.m.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Since we are on vacation Colette resists cooking in our very little
kitchen so sometime during the day we make a stop at Monoprix or, preferably,
Picard, to see what frozen dinner meets our imagination. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
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Picard is a chain of stores
throughout France that sells only frozen foods including veggies, fish, meats,
snacks, hors d’oeuvres, and meals.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Frankly there is nothing comparable to it in the US.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wish I could send you a copy of its catalog
(see Picard.fr).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At Monoprix, an all
purpose chain found throughout France, the frozen food section contains meals
prepared using recipes of well known chefs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Once again the choice is enormous and decision making is difficult.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
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When we need anything for the
apartment or if we shop for food, in addition to Monoprix, there are several
alternatives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The first choice is the
rue de Bretagne; there are several excellent butchers, the Marché des Enfants-Rouges.fr,
a hardware store (quinquillerie), boulangerie and pastisserie, a very refined
wine store, and don’t forget florists and other miscellany plus, of course,
bistros, and a famous restaurant specializing in Tunisian couscous.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
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But speaking of food, no trip to
France is complete without a visit to one of the two famous shops on the Place
de la Madeleine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our favorite used to be
Fauchon that is now upscale complete with a doorman.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, walk by it and tourists are usually
looking through the windows at the prepared dishes beautifully presented.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fauchon has gone upscale with a very large
picture of a young lady stretched at roof level, a doorman at the curb but it
has lost the clubby feeling that made it so welcoming.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
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We have abandoned Fachon in favor
of Hediard (see Hediard.fr), on the other side of the Church of Madeleine, very
old world atmosphere, and a wonderful choice of anything that may be important
to you: Wines, coffees, spices, canned exotica and, upstairs, a
restaurant..<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course it also has a
doorman to help you in and out of your chauffeured car.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We arrive by foot from the Metro.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The service is personal and patient.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
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Travel in Paris outside of rush
hours is easy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Metro has been
renovated and its cars are bright and comfortable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The bus system is more sophisticated but I
have finally learned to use it between certain points, but traffic is heavy so
it sometimes takes twice as long as the Metro.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
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Two of the Metro lines are
extraordinary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Line No. 1 from La
Defense to the Chateau de Vincennes, crosses Paris.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The cars have large windows, comfortable
seats, and there is no division between cars so you can see the length of the
train.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The newest line is from Madeleine
to the new National Library and it is quite extraordinary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Completely automated, the doors open and
close without your assistance, and again there is no division between cars so
you can see the full length.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
stations are cheerful, and that at the Botanic Gardens has great plants.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
Friday, May 7<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">th</span></sup>, I
took the Metro to the Chateau de Vincennes with one change at Nation, and
arrived at the Chateau de Vincennes in about 20 minutes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I returned I took the bus, also one
ticket direct to the Place de la Republique, 45 minutes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was fortunate to have a seat for most of
the trip the bus was very crowded.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
The Metro and bus system tickets
cost Euro 1 per ride.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On the Metro you
can change trains (Correspondence) at no extra cost.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With the bus system there is no transfers.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
One of my ongoing projects is
documenting the life of a French artist by the name of Jean Launois
(1898-1942).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His father was a cousin of
Colette, and Colette inherited a number of his drawings and watercolors.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I am in Paris I try to continue the
pursuit of details, not very easy, as Launois’s life is not that well
documented although his pictures are relatively well known.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
I am now well adapt at using the
libraries and archives of Paris.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have
permanent cards to several of them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
start at the little library on the 4<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">th</span></sup> floor of the Mairie of the
Third Arrondissement, where we live.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
is, of course, a branch of the main Paris library and although very small has
good basic reference works, a collection of murder mysteries mostly translated
from the English and American, and shelves of French novels and classics.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To get a card there you need proof that you
are a resident of Paris which is done by providing a gas or electric bill with
your name on it, and identity card, in my case a passport.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The librarians there have been very helpful in
obtaining books through interlibrary loan and, on two occasions I have crossed
Paris to use materials in other branches.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
The National Archives in Paris,
the National Library (the Mitterrand Library), and the Archives and the
Bibliotheque of the Armee de la Terre at the Chateau de Vincennes is not quite
the same nut.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There you present
yourself, you explain your purpose, you produce identity, and you are given a
card.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The nest step is to meet with a
research advisor to begin the research process.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>At the National Archives the documents are computerized; when your
document has been identified you are given a paper with its identification on
it, and you proceed upstairs where you check in, leaving coats, briefcases in a
locker, then you are given a desk, you turn in your paper with the research
information on it, and you sit at your desk and wait.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It can take anything from half and hour to a
day, but you can leave and return, check in and out.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
At the National Archives the box
I was handed turned out to be a collection of correspondence from the Director
of the Museum of the Palace of Luxembourg, from almost the beginning of the20th
C.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Here were the original documents
itemizing the purchase of pictures by the museum, and letters from him about
his work.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
Letter from Paris No. 2<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
The difficulty of a short trip to
any destination, known or unknown is meeting your expectations and those of
friends and family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In our case this
problem is amplified by distance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Colette’s nieces live, respectively, in the south (Montpelier) and the
west (Brittany).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My friends are
similarly dispersed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Once back in Paris
we made telephone calls to set up our different itineraries.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
My friend Brigitte and her
brother, Gilles, have retired to the center of France in a little, very little,
village of Meaulne. Brigitte’s family had a garage business in Bangui, Central
African Republic where I was at the embassy from 1967 – 1969.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Another friend of the same period is
Jean-Francois, now a retired General of the French Medical Corps and he lives
in Brittany.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We agreed to meet in Les
Sables d’Olonne, a fishing port, resort area, and a center for international
sailing races.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The purpose of meeting
there was to see and exhibit of drawings and paintings by my artist, Jean
Launois.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To add to the complications,
the niece of Jean Launois, Brigitte Launois Demay was to meet me at the exhibit
where I would say goodbye to my other friends and leave with Brigitte Launois
Demay for a two day visit with her at her home in Longeves, near Niort.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
Friday, April 30, 2002<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
As part of our preparations for
our trips, Colette to the south of France, me to the center of France, we
prepared sandwiches, half a baguette with ham and mache for green.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
I walked with Colette to the bus
stop on rue du Temple where she took the No. 20 to the Gare de Lyon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I returned home, had a cup of instant coffee,
then closed the apartment and walked up to the Place de La Republique to take
the Metro to the Gare de l’Austerlitz.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Just before the Seine the Metro surfaces and takes to the air past the
new and awful Ministry of Finance building, across a bridge, to one of the few
above ground metro stations. Pulling my little suitcase on wheels behind me I
descended to ground level, followed the signs and entered the Gare d’Austerlitz,
one of the least preposing of the railroad stations in Paris, now undergoing
massive rehabilitation to brighten it up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Austerlitz is smaller than most of the stations of Paris.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But it does not offer the variety of the
others where there are shops, café/bars, ample seating areas and that make
waiting for a train in Paris pleasant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
My train to St. Amand Montrond
was an old one, not a TGV (train de grand vitesse).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The trip was pleasant, and the French country
side was in contrasting colors of green, gold and brown.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The green, newly sprouting fields of wheat,
corn, or turnips (I guess!); the gold of the ripen rape awaiting harvest; and
the brown the tilled, but not yet planted fields.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
I enjoyed my sandwich as we sped
toward our destination, Bourges.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Coffee
was sold from a cart; at Bourges the train was broken up and the part of the
train in which I was a passenger tacked onto another electric engine destined
for Montlucon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>French trains travel at
high speeds, even the old ones, but stop only for two minutes to embark and
disembark passengers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I stepped down
from the train, turn to give a hand to a spry lady even older than I am, and
turned to find Brigitte and Gilles waiting for me, with Jeep, their West Highland
Terrier.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
From the time I first became
acquainted with Brigitte and Gilles, their parents and cousins in Bangui, they
were and continue to be the most avid approvers of all things Americans
imaginable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Especially automobiles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In Bangui their company represented
International Harvester.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They had a
Buick in France for their vacation and until recently Brigitte had a Dodge
Tourister modified to burn liquid petroleum, the same as we use for our bbq’s
as well as the usual gas, not that unusual in France. Brigitte assures me we do
this in the US but I have never seen it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Before retiring they had a Volvo marine engine agency in the south of
France; as part of their retirement they sacrificed the Dodge for a new diesel
Volvo station wagon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
Their very pleasant three bedroom
cottage would bed welcomed anywhere in the US particularly with its French
doors from the two bedrooms, dining room and living room that face the little
patio, and overlook a field.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
Nearby is the home of Alain
Fournier who wrote <u>Le grand Meaulnes</u>, a heavily romantic novel set in
the years before WWI.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Alain Fournier
died in action but his novel lives on.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
The next three days included
visits to the Abbaye de Noirlac, the Chateau of Meillant, George (without an s)
Sand’s home, the Chateau de Nohant, the exterior of the Chateau of St. Armand
Montrond, and last but not least the wonderful Palace of Jacques Coeur in
Bourges.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
Lets talk food for a moment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All French women and French men are not
wonderful cooks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve known some who
could boil water but burn it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Brigitte
is an exceptionally good cook and her moules frites were wonderful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Moules are, of course, mussels, cooked
rapidly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She cooks them twice, the first
time to drain the salt water from them, which she saves; the second time with
butter, white wine, then adds the water from the first cooking and a little
cream, and it is wonderful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her French
fries (produced by an American company in France, frozen: you cannot find the
equivalent in the US) are excellent; she does them in an Italian deep-fat fryer
and it does the work and does it well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A
second meal was wild salmon cooked in “pappiote.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ll call and get the details.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was very well done, the salmon succulent,
not too fishy, and the little shrimp added color and taste contrast.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
Tuesday morning we were up early,
had a typical French breakfast of coffee, bread and butter (croissants are for
the occasional Sunday extravagance), and were in the car and on our way by 6:45
AM.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The weather was not beautiful,
cloudy, drippy, but it did not distract from the scenery.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were driving west toward the Atlantic
through the Bourbon country of France and the chateaux and forts are still
visible at close hand, as are Roman period churches.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So much to see and not time to!<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
By 11:00 AM we were lost in
darkest downtown Les Sables d’Olonne, but we did eventually find Jean-Francois,
his miniature black poodle sitting at his side.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Jean-Francois had a cap, a shirt open at the neck and sleeves rolled up
to his elbows.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He did not look the part
of a distinguished, retired, medical General of the French Army.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He said he was not cold, but Brigitte, Gilles
and I were glad to have our waterproof jackets against the fresh and strong
breeze, with some light rain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I would
have welcomed another layer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
Jean-Francois was already checked
into the two-star Hotel de Commerce, 8, rue Hoche, 95100 Les Sables d’Olonne,
tel. 02 51 32 02 80.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Brigitte and Gilles
check in and we were ready for lunch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>With some confusion, cars and dogs were sorted out, and we set out for
the port for lunch. The choice of restaurants was difficult, there were many,
but the Hotel<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Restaurant du Port, 14,
Quai Garnier, 95100 Les Sables d’Olonne, tel. 01 51 32 08 47, was a happy
solutions. Brigitte had a platter of oysters, coquillages, (little shell fish,
three different types), and langoustines.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>What she did not finish, we did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Gilles and I had oysters, followed by tagliatelli with shellfish and
langoustines, and Jean-François had a very large serving of oysters followed by
stuffed ray. Les Sables d’Olonne is a fishing port, a summer resort, and a year
around sailing port for the serious.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
After lunch back into the car to
drive to Le Musee de l’Abbaye de la Sainte-Croix where an exhibit of Jean
Launois’ water colors of his Algeria period were hung; there were also cases with
interesting familyj documentation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
As planned, our cousin Brigitte
Launois Demay met me there as scheduled, and after introductions, mutual
interests were notified and the next half hour was a discussion of life in
Algeria in 1942 where Brigitte’s mother and her four children spent the war
years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jean –Francois was there as a
young intern.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
Brigitte and I said our goodbyes
and left to drive to her home an hour away from the coast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After a family party the next day, Brigitte
drove me to Niort where I took the TGV back to Paris.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
Saturday, May 8, 2004, Buy new
umbrella, E 7.5, Musee National Medieval de Cluny, tapisserie, La dame a
l’icorne, lunch at <u>Pizza la Sirena</u>, 73, boulevard Saint-Germain, 75005
Paris, Pizza au feu de bois, tagliatelli avec langoustines, mussels, very
good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Driving rain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We replaced umbrellas!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dinner with Jean Curtil, Sarkosy, taxi home
in the rain.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
Monday, May 10, 2004<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
9 PM, home from the library of
the Armee de la Terre, the Chateau de Vincennes, where my research into the
French Army on the Italian Front during WW I went ahead, but
inconclusively.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The purpose of my
research is to try to find first hand accounts of the battles the French Army
units fought in Italy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have found some
pictures in old <u>L’Illustration</u>, but nothing first hand for the period
when my artist, Jean Launois, was serving in Italy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His experiences were so dreadful that he said
he did not want to talk about them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
only descriptive material on the horror of this particular part of the WW I is
in Earnest Hemingway’s <u>Farewell to Arms</u>, and the defeat of the Italian
Army and its retreat across the Piavo almost a six-months earlier..<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
By the wonderful, open, bright
Metro line Chateau de Vincennes to La Defense that crosses Paris, 20 minutes
later I got off at the half way mark, the Hotel de Ville.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The purpose of the trip was to visit the
Bazar of the Hotel de Ville, my favorite department store in Paris to shop for
a non-battery powered telephone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This
accomplished, I started the walk home, up the Rue du Temple, left on Blvd.
Reamur, Right on to Rue Volta (Italian Physician who developed the battery<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>the sign under the street name reads, in
French of course), and soon I was tapping the code on the magnetic pad that has
replaced the concierge to unlock the doors of our building into the court yard.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
A glass of wine (biological,)
while I prepared dinner and had a telephone call from Louise, our daughter in
Raleigh, to assure me they were well, as were our respective dogs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I spoke briefly to Ian, our son in New York
City, who gave us news of his wife, Eva, also an architect, and Javier, his
father-in-law, who was visiting from Rome.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
Watching the news French Channel
2 (our TV 5 at home in Chapel Hill) was depressing as more details were
unfolded about the Iraq mess, and as I listened loud music interrupted the news
broadcasted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I opened the windows to
peer out and saw a happy man with a paper cup walking back and forth across the
street, looking up and waving and, behind him two musicians.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The first a trumpeter, the second playing
what looked like a small French horn and pulling behind him a battery powered
tap player.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could recognize the music
from the trumpeter and the horn player, but not the portable orchestra.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Only in Paris!<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
Wednesday, May 12, 2004, Achives,
Chateau de Vincennes, cold, cloudy day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>After usual wait my two boxes were available, and neither produced
anything of real interest about the Italian campagn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Home, sandwich, the sun came out and for the
firswt time a beautiful day.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
After lunch and nap metro to the
Trocadero and then a leisurely walk down, across the bridge to the Eiffel
Tower, many tourists, seemingly as many French as foreign.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The wlk along the Seine was pleasant, cross
the pedestrian bridge, taking pictures as I go.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>At the Place Alma Marceau what appears to be a gold ball with wird
spikes on top of pyramid draws my<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>attention.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I cross to the
pedestrian island then take a picture, before crossing to the base of the
pyramid to read the inscription.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is
replica of the flame of liberty held by the Statue in New York with an
inscription of gratitude to France.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
bed George W. Bush has never seen it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
Thursday, May 13, 2004<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Another cloudy day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Buy and read Le Mond and The NY Heral
Tribune, each more depressing than the other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The news from Washington and Iraq.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="FR" style="mso-ansi-language: FR;">Na<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="FR" style="mso-ansi-language: FR;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="FR" style="mso-ansi-language: FR;">Hotel le Relais du Marais, 76, rue de Turbigo, 750034 Paris, </span><a href="mailto:anyl.pirba@wanadoo.fr"><span lang="FR" style="mso-ansi-language: FR;"><span style="color: blue;">anyl.pirba@wanadoo.fr</span></span></a><span lang="FR" style="mso-ansi-language: FR;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="FR" style="mso-ansi-language: FR;">Musee Marmottan Monet, 7, rue Louis Boilly, 75016, Paris, tel. 01 42 24 07
02<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="FR" style="mso-ansi-language: FR;">La pierre du Marais, 96, rue de Archives, 75003 Paris, tel. 01 42 77 25 02<o:p></o:p></span></div>
CharlesShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11548475957690019501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5533310574623130662.post-23458464419512527462012-06-06T13:49:00.000-07:002012-06-06T13:49:12.145-07:00<u>Farmers' Markets in Chapel Hill & Carrboro </u> We have two that I try to visit. The Farmers' Market in Carrboro is great fun, parking is in short supply, but aside from that you can find many things except live farm birds and animals, thus this is no place to look for a pet chicken, duck or turkey nor a babygoat, sheep or even kittens or puppies. However, I am sure if you mentioned that you were in the market for a pet of almost any description someone would volunteer quickly. There are plants - flowers, herbs, trees, a wonderful assortment of fresh and home-grown vegetables. There is a variety of farm-raised meats, chicken, lamb and beef and a variety of cuts. There is art work, and handiwork including hand-woven textiles, even outdoor furniture - beautifully made Adirondack chairs. Another vendor offers items made from cedar and bags of cedar chips. It is open Saturday mornings from 8 a.m. through early afternoon and, I think, on Wednesday afternoons.<br />
<br />
There is also a Saturday morning market in the parking lot of University Mall. It is less sophisticated, the range of choices is smaller, but it is pleasant as well.<br />
<br />CharlesShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11548475957690019501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5533310574623130662.post-13603376826038220412012-06-06T13:09:00.000-07:002012-06-06T13:09:38.068-07:00June 6, 2012 We sold the apartment in Paris and moved what we could back to Chapel Hill, NC. Unhappily, it will be some months before we return so now my attention is on Chapel Hill and real estate. <br />
<br />
Our daughter with her two little boys (6 & 4) have moved into the same condominium complex where we live, so we see her a little bit more. I walk her dog, a non-barking Jack Russell. I had become used to its charms, and now I am looking at Chapel Hill with different eyes as Louise renews her acquaintance with this charming little town (not really so little) where she finished high school and college.<br />
<br />
Our condo complex has a swimming pool so she and the two boys spend an hour or two there every time they can. In Raleigh they did not have access to a swimming pool except at the Y and it was less relaxed. The public library here is a delight. Temporarily it is in the University Mall, with lots of parking, and just minutes from where we live, so they visit it weekly, a good habit for little children, and the children's section there is wonderful.<br />
<br />CharlesShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11548475957690019501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5533310574623130662.post-41654415866522408772011-11-20T09:02:00.000-08:002011-11-20T09:08:34.195-08:0035, rue de Notre Dame de Nazareth, 75003 Paris<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Interior of our apartment.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Entering the apartment you see the windows overlooking the street, and the hand-hewn beams. A part of Colette's collection of 19th C pottery is on the walls.</div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rAxPzzl9H4c/TnOk83bLxoI/AAAAAAAAAMw/suMaY2dJ5AM/s1600/IMG_2320.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" rba="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rAxPzzl9H4c/TnOk83bLxoI/AAAAAAAAAMw/suMaY2dJ5AM/s320/IMG_2320.JPG" width="240" /></a><br />
Looking from the interior of the exterior wall toward the dining area with the </div>built in desk and closet. The appraiser and other knowledgeable people put the date of construction about 1715. The beams were obviously cut by ax not a circular saw, and the plumbing was added much later. This is evidenced by the fact that the bthtub and toilet sit about 6" above the floor to provide for the plumbing! At some point before plumbing was added to the interior of the apartment, the building was plumbed and fawcets added to each landing.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ta0DJYvzxFc/TnOk5X1Yu-I/AAAAAAAAAMk/F5aEy1DcOeU/s1600/IMG_2323.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" rba="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ta0DJYvzxFc/TnOk5X1Yu-I/AAAAAAAAAMk/F5aEy1DcOeU/s320/IMG_2323.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>The kichen in very serviceable. The Rosiere stove is really nifty. Three gas eyes, one electric eye for slow cooking, an oven with built in rotisserie, which we never used, and the bottom drawer is a very efficient dishwasher.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gaV-QqMVvfs/TnOk6C5tGVI/AAAAAAAAAMs/sfWfLCPjAXA/s1600/IMG_2318.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" rba="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gaV-QqMVvfs/TnOk6C5tGVI/AAAAAAAAAMs/sfWfLCPjAXA/s320/IMG_2318.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
Colette found someone to build a cupboard on which to put the refrigerator wo we do not have to get on our hands and knees to put things in/take out.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PYXOcoPenR8/TnOk5hJuGBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/GgJ1cUX4Io0/s1600/IMG_2319.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" rba="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PYXOcoPenR8/TnOk5hJuGBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/GgJ1cUX4Io0/s320/IMG_2319.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nPPbLuXCEts/TnOk93tp--I/AAAAAAAAAM4/4RZSfpunp4Y/s1600/IMG_2322.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" rba="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nPPbLuXCEts/TnOk93tp--I/AAAAAAAAAM4/4RZSfpunp4Y/s320/IMG_2322.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-75VKzSxWPwY/TnOk9p-Lf_I/AAAAAAAAAM0/sGvaFBq2p-U/s1600/IMG_2321.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" rba="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-75VKzSxWPwY/TnOk9p-Lf_I/AAAAAAAAAM0/sGvaFBq2p-U/s320/IMG_2321.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1UoZXyLejxE6tAKdNpTkR4bNl5wxSbNzfIW9XS2oU04b1vADYDOhNSol80gVrPMve1gKS3GCPCbiJvMDVhL-MtnfYUrTHoqYloYnkQICcNpCcDkvwbfdC0UVzjlqtIAf8tyrWT2fFAolF/s1600/IMG_2771.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1UoZXyLejxE6tAKdNpTkR4bNl5wxSbNzfIW9XS2oU04b1vADYDOhNSol80gVrPMve1gKS3GCPCbiJvMDVhL-MtnfYUrTHoqYloYnkQICcNpCcDkvwbfdC0UVzjlqtIAf8tyrWT2fFAolF/s320/IMG_2771.JPG" width="240" xaa="true" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aXgYF8SJfdg/TnOhsTQQkOI/AAAAAAAAAK4/lauRa6H0f48/s1600/IMG_3692.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" rba="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aXgYF8SJfdg/TnOhsTQQkOI/AAAAAAAAAK4/lauRa6H0f48/s320/IMG_3692.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>CharlesShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11548475957690019501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5533310574623130662.post-85640646687006557792011-11-18T10:16:00.000-08:002011-11-18T10:16:17.091-08:00Thanksgiving in Bangui, Central African Republic (CAR) <u><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Thanksgiving in Bangui, Central African Republic (CAR)</span></u><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Colette and I were married in September and by October we were well established in our little house on the edge of the great Ubangui River and very much a part of the local civil and diplomatic party scene.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Colette’s English teacher, Tim Browne, and his wife, Carole, had become good friends and they would frequently join us, and other friends, for barbecues on the front lawn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Other good friends included the Jacques and Augé and their two teen-aged sons.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Brigitte Renault would arrive via the river in her inboard motor boat, the fastest on the river!</span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">As was/is the custom in French speaking Africa, soon after our arrival we had given our own party to introduce Colette and it had been a success.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>More than 40 friends and acquaintances invited, my secretary at the US AID office in the Embassy engulfed in telephone calls of people who thought they should have been invited, many of whom I had never heard of.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The crowd was such that arrival times had to be budgeted by the quarter hour so everyone would not arrive at once.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Now a year later and in anticipation of Thanksgiving and Christmas Holidays, in September the Embassy had put a group order for frozen turkeys and other goodies from Denmark, so the menu was already established.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Over sunset drinks on the terrace overlooking the river with the Browns and the Augés the subject of Tfhanksgiving – a high profile American feast, came up and we planned a simple dinner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The issue of additional guests was discussed and we agreed to keep the group small, say 12 persons.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The goal had been set, and the execution was the next step.</span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">A week or two later Tim dropped by and said with excitement that they had written friends in England about the Thanksgiving project and said friends, an airline pilot and his wife, replied they would fly to Bangui for the occasion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Another French friend heard about the project invited himself and his wife, and said parents would come down from France for the occasion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The guest list became longer.</span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The turkey was at least 20 pounds so we were safe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The great day approached. I would cook the turkey, and the Browns and Augers would prepare other dishes.</span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">On the equator the daily weather is fairly predictable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The big rains come in April-May, and a shorter rainey season in September-October.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The hot weather without rain is more or less from Ocgtober until the spring rains begin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>December and January are splendid!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So we had no concern about planning an outdoor activity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Chairs and tables were borrowed from the Embassy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now we had to cook the dinner.</span><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I had decided to do a corn-bread stuffing, so my battered copy of <u>The Joy of Cooking </u>was brought out. Jacques Augé said he would help and the late evening before the schedule feast we set to make corn bread stuffing following the recipe from Ms. Rombauer in <u>The Joy of Cooking</u>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The guest list now numbered more than 20 persons, so we set up an assembly line for measuring, mixing, and baking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I </span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">By midnight we were done, Jacques went home, and I set the alarm for 4 AM and went to bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Too soon the larm went off and I went to the kitchen and lit the oven, stuffed the turkey, and popped it into the oven and returned to bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our cook<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and houseman would come in by 7 and would take over the responsibilities of watching the turkey, setting up the tables and chairs and preparing for the onslaught of guests.</span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">By 12 noon the guests had started to arrive, men in shorts and flipflops, the women in a wide variety of costumes from the African version of the Hawaiian mou-mous (?) to skirts and shorts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dorothy Parker put it neatly that candy is fine but liquor is quicker.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was a wide variety of thirst quenchers – guests brought Champagne, white or red wine, and of course there were G&T’s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><br />
<h2 align="center" style="margin: 0.83em 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Beside the turkey the highlight of the afternoon was reading aloud and passing around copies</span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></h2><h2 align="center" style="margin: 0.83em 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">of</span></h2><h2 align="center" style="margin: 0.83em 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Buchwald’s A la Recherche du Temps Perdue</span></h2><br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-outline-level: 3; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">By Art Buchwald<br />
Thursday, November 28 1996; Page B01<br />
</span></b><a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/"><b><span style="color: blue; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The Washington Post</span></b></a><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></b></div><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span><br />
<hr align="center" size="2" width="100%" /> <br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-outline-level: 5;"><b><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">[ In 1953, during my tour of duty with the French Foreign Legion in the Sahara, my tough sergeant from Marseilles said to me, "Why do all the American recruits refuse to eat anything but turkey on this day?" </span></i></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-outline-level: 6;"><b><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I told him I was sorry but my lips were sealed. He then poured honey on my head so the ants would get me. That's when I broke down and talked.]</span></i></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">One of the most important holidays is Thanksgiving Day, known in France as l<i>e Jour de Merci Donnant</i>. <o:p></o:p></span></div><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Le Jour de Merci Donnant </span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">was first started by a group of pilgrims (<i>Pelerins</i>) who fled from l<i>'Angleterre</i> before the McCarran Act to found a colony in the New World (l<i>e Nouveau Monde</i>), where they could shoot Indians (<i>les Peaux-Rouges</i>) and eat turkey (<i>dinde</i>) to their hearts' content. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">They landed at a place called Plymouth (now a famous <i>voiture Americaine</i>) in a wooden sailing ship named the Mayflower, or <i>Fleur de Mai</i>, in 1620. But while the <i>Pelerins</i> were killing the <i>dindes</i>, the <i>Peaux-Rouges </i>were killing the <i>Pelerins</i>, and there were several hard winters ahead for both of them. The only way the <i>Peaux-Rouges</i> helped the <i>Pelerins</i> was when they taught them how to grow corn (<i>mais</i>). They did this because they liked corn with their <i>Pelerins</i>. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In 1623, after another harsh year, the <i>Pelerins</i>' crops were so good they decided to have a celebration and because more <i>mais </i>was raised by the <i>Pelerins</i> than <i>Pelerins</i> were killed by the <i>Peaux-Rouges</i>. <o:p></o:p></span></div><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Every year on <i>le Jour de Merci Donnant</i>, parents tell their children an amusing story about the first celebration. </span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It concerns a brave <i>capitaine </i>named Miles Standish (known in France as <i>Kilometres Deboutish</i>) and a shy young lieutenant named Jean Alden. Both of them were in love with a flower of Plymouth called Priscilla Mullens (no translation). The v<i>ieux capitaine</i> said to the j<i>eune lieutenant</i>: <o:p></o:p></span></div><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">"Go to the damsel Priscilla (<i>Allez tres vite chez Priscilla</i>), the loveliest maiden of Plymouth (<i>la plus jolie demoiselle de Plymouth</i>). Say that a blunt old captain, a man not of words but of action (<i>un vieux Fanfan la Tulipe</i>), offers his hand and his heart -- the hand and heart of a soldier. Not in these words, you understand, but this, in short, is my meaning. </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">"I am a maker of war (<i>Je suis un fabricant de la guerre</i>) and not a maker of phrases. <o:p></o:p></span></div><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Although Jean was fit to be tied (<i>convenable à être emballé</i>), friendship prevailed over love and went to his duty. But instead of using elegant language, he blurted out his mission. </span><span lang="FR" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: FR; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Priscilla was muted with amazement and sorrow (<i>rendue muette par l'etonnement et la tristesse</i>). <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">At length she exclaimed, breaking the ominous silence, "If the great captain of Plymouth is so very eager to wed me, why does he not come himself and take the trouble to woo me?" </span><span lang="FR" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: FR; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">("<i>Ou est-il, le vieux Kilometres? Pourquoi ne vient-il pas aupres de moi pour tenter sa chance?</i>") <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Jean said that <i>Kilometres Deboutish</i> was very busy and didn't have time for such things. He staggered on, telling her what a wonderful husband <i>Kilometres</i> would make. Finally, Priscilla arched her eyebrows and said in a tremulous voice, "Why don't you speak for yourself, Jean?" ("<i>Chacun à son gout</i>.") <o:p></o:p></span></div><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">And so, on the fourth Thursday in November, American families sit down at a large table brimming with tasty dishes, and for the only time during the year eat better than the French do. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">No one can deny that <i>le Jour de Merci Donnant </i>is a <i>grand fête</i>, and no matter how well fed American families are, they never forget to give thanks to <i>Kilometres Deboutish</i>, who made this great day possible. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-outline-level: 5;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">(C) 1996, Los Angeles Times Syndicate . Copyright 1996 The Washington Post Company <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>CharlesShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11548475957690019501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5533310574623130662.post-91768867714536715662011-10-20T02:00:00.000-07:002011-11-27T12:23:51.998-08:00Marriage in Paris<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Marriage in France consist of one or two ceremonies. In any case there has to be a civil ceremny. The civil ceremony now is referred to as the <u><em>Pacte civil de Solidarite or Pac</em></u>. Originally the civil ceremony was intended only for heterosexual marriages. The PAC now includes same sex marriages and provides for most contingencies included in marriage vows concerning property and divorce. As a result many young, and not so young, people on both side of the sexual fence prefer the one step PAC and forget the religious ceremony. <br />
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In any case for a marriage to be recognized by the government there must be a civil ceremony. If you want a religious one as well, that is your choice. As the PAC simplifies the ins-and-outs of marriage, it has become a popular alternative.<br />
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I do not have wifi in the apartment and because the town hall does and the town hall for the 3rd district (<em>arrondissement</em>) is open Saturday mornings, I come in with my backpack with my laptop to one of the desks in the east or west wing to check my mail and read the papers. Before I pack up to leave I hear the crowd noises of guests coming to the town hall to watch a friend or friends get married that does not due justice to the red carpet on the elegant, late 19th C staircase to the first floor where the civil ceremonies are held.<br />
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Because the bride is wearing a traditional wedding gown, we assume that following the civil ceremony the couple and their friends will caravan to the church of their choice for for the religious ceremony followed usually by a formal and extensive luncheon with lots of liquid goodies.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj20J3bmQZ827WJBxdoYJOY_UfFb7qQPmjeNe0p1IpSu88W5xfxGKN4mWGs4yx0kypnWIPYQyANumdVDVjmBjWp5OAE9agO8oh2zjHe6zVJVsbCq3QoGSsNDag6zsKAP1IhFAfk6zODUngd/s1600/IMG_4710.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj20J3bmQZ827WJBxdoYJOY_UfFb7qQPmjeNe0p1IpSu88W5xfxGKN4mWGs4yx0kypnWIPYQyANumdVDVjmBjWp5OAE9agO8oh2zjHe6zVJVsbCq3QoGSsNDag6zsKAP1IhFAfk6zODUngd/s320/IMG_4710.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY36m8XGpVrjuS7SE1Qg2dwNMbwdp6FOwlAdzL19CsVjIZ8e-qBpdSsoYoeYMrZPsir_EnQxj-1NQcQF5HOSBqlzfwCB-8Wn46s2Cld1k4aQmf8yS2h0C6C3V_XxRhMKnDBjsY_F_JnEgv/s1600/IMG_4709.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY36m8XGpVrjuS7SE1Qg2dwNMbwdp6FOwlAdzL19CsVjIZ8e-qBpdSsoYoeYMrZPsir_EnQxj-1NQcQF5HOSBqlzfwCB-8Wn46s2Cld1k4aQmf8yS2h0C6C3V_XxRhMKnDBjsY_F_JnEgv/s320/IMG_4709.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>So far I have only seen hetero marriages with the bride outfitted appropriately in a formal white wedding gown. Here is a bride and groom in full marriage dress crossing the bridge behind Notre Dame de Paris. We imagine they have made the trip from Japan to Paris for the occasion although for a non-resdent to marry in France it is a little complicated.<br />
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().<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-r3I6CvJA0OM/TmOKpAY4ohI/AAAAAAAAAH4/RWdK4lAWGG0/s1600/IMG_3111.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-r3I6CvJA0OM/TmOKpAY4ohI/AAAAAAAAAH4/RWdK4lAWGG0/s320/IMG_3111.JPG" width="320" /></a>CharlesShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11548475957690019501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5533310574623130662.post-11555997348769016162011-10-07T02:49:00.000-07:002011-11-18T10:31:48.884-08:00October 7, 2011, Paris almost sparkles!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>My French relations, including my wife, Colette, do not understand my fascination with the City of Paris sanitation services. This blog will take time to develop because I hope to include pictures of the different activities. <br />
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Our apartment is on the first floor (one floor up from the ground floor, <u>le rez-de-chausee</u>) (sorry, my laptop does not do accents) so we have a good view of what passes on the street.<br />
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The City of Paris sanitation services operate 7 days a week, all day and sometimes late into the night. However, lets take it from the early morning. About 6:15 AM the first heavy truck makes it way past our apartment and, regrettably, I do not know what it does because by the time I fall out of bed, find slippers, it has past our building. But shortly thereafter the sidewalk crew comes by. This is a small tank truck with a driver and on either the left-hand or right-hand side, a man with a long wand washes the sidewalk and the water sweeps dog poo, papers, leaves et al into the gutter. He has tomake too trips, about 30 minutes apart. I imagine he does the full length of rue de N.D. deNazareth, the makes a U-turn on Blvd. de Saint-Martin, almost a mile west, anprobably returns on Blvd Saint-Martin Meslay, the switches side of the street.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2SXtAgjn1uEbsbHQnyBL7rr9QutgH4dluHzDz_PssE-xogoX_tjk7axEjg7w8VRUsSGB_PBfrPpx_wsRGXKK1aJjExriJ8KDnVcKJ-ywMHJhm_8hsOpmokyclHUBfiRdFyc9uJdOswRye/s1600/IMG_4682.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2SXtAgjn1uEbsbHQnyBL7rr9QutgH4dluHzDz_PssE-xogoX_tjk7axEjg7w8VRUsSGB_PBfrPpx_wsRGXKK1aJjExriJ8KDnVcKJ-ywMHJhm_8hsOpmokyclHUBfiRdFyc9uJdOswRye/s320/IMG_4682.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5YOrpkjZcVfdDLAFXC2GY4ingAnYjkKcegDBl-1km-i9_JmAyz7mPSagMYYLXS23T8D9D6J96PCA10quZPn-sAfgtI4mDWltvYPFdfJx-PAjTALKpIedkeQ3s6BZouhCjkvLWie9172QM/s1600/IMG_4690.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5YOrpkjZcVfdDLAFXC2GY4ingAnYjkKcegDBl-1km-i9_JmAyz7mPSagMYYLXS23T8D9D6J96PCA10quZPn-sAfgtI4mDWltvYPFdfJx-PAjTALKpIedkeQ3s6BZouhCjkvLWie9172QM/s320/IMG_4690.JPG" width="320" /></a>The next person is the gutter sweeper. He, like all the saniation employees, is uniformed in a dark green coverall with a yellow vest, and a matching green broom. In times past each neighborhood had its gutter sweeper and they were part of the scenery. Colette's sister, chatlaine of the family chateau in a really small town in the east of France.<br />
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(Courcelles/Aubreville/Meuse) and thus to the manor born, was vastly amused by the fact that she and the neighborhood sweeper were on daily speaking terms as she progressed down the sidewalk to market and he cleaned the gutter. They exchanged views on the state of the world, the young people, and the problems of keeping Paris neat and tidy.<br />
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Now the gutter sweepers are rotated so it is a different one daily. His job is to turn on the water at the fire hydrants to flood the gutters and sweep the debris into the drains. The sweeper in this picture is working at a major intersection and if you look closely you will see he has vertical cart that has a ring with a clear green plastic sack into which he is dumping items that cannot be swept into the street drainage system.<br />
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Several years ago terrorist would put hand grenade-type explosives with timers in the fixed, metal sided sidewalk trash cans. When they exploded the trash can fragmented and the trash can pieces caused death and serious injuries to anyone nearby. The City of Paris' Sanitation Department response was to remove the metal sidewalk trash cans and replace them with short metal posts fixed in the sidewalk with a ring at the top. The clear green plastic sacks would reveal the presence of unwanted or threatening items plus are lightweight and easily closed, lifted out and replace. An environmental note here, a second sack in its own ring has been added, and the clear yellow sack is labeled "Recycle."<br />
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In the courtyard of our building (now dated as 18th C) there are three types of garbage cans, one for recycle (tins, plastic, paper) one for garbage and one with a special round hole in the middle of the lid for bottles. Disposing of bottles in Paris is schedule twice weekly and has its own truck. The truck, like the trucks for the other two types of garbage have double lifts at the back. They usually come by in mid-afternoon, Tuesday and, I think, Friday. There is a driver and one helper. The truck stops for the garbage cans on the side of the road, the driver hops out, and he takes one side of the road and the helper takes the other side. The garbage cans always seem to be full with bottle, and they are pushed out to the truck, engaged in the lift system, the driver, I think, pushes the button and the plastic cans are lifted into the air, turned upside down, and the bottles drop into the truck. The sound of breaking glass fills the air with it own music.<br />
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The next challenge is copy my pictures of this activity from my Microsoft Picture program however this is proving to be more of problem than I had anticipated. The next picture will be of the public bottle disposer sites located on an attractivde corner of the Square du Temple.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhupqRi4gFV_ZT-0yZ9N_mdGS4DSmw7YNg0Af4hCzs7cTWYoNpuyK5bjUMt81m5epKqCLNntZFE6TDjo-Zg0ZjfYLRvZmrZNOyZ5PQaXHMjcP8erHzQwRgMb0cLAM1FDEzKKxFxwj2FKrfr/s1600/IMG_4586.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhupqRi4gFV_ZT-0yZ9N_mdGS4DSmw7YNg0Af4hCzs7cTWYoNpuyK5bjUMt81m5epKqCLNntZFE6TDjo-Zg0ZjfYLRvZmrZNOyZ5PQaXHMjcP8erHzQwRgMb0cLAM1FDEzKKxFxwj2FKrfr/s320/IMG_4586.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitFc5uwZKl4iFlardyfW-Q1ZqC1ElmaB60MCNEPL-DUXC1gCE-oqZO-8V6DhKu0zHxCo1Tq6-fL0okLAD-bbKsbd_X_G1TG1Qa_RLRgKacfFgGxkhpGgui3MX2K0zns9og7Cby2Sru6oiP/s1600/IMG_4560.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitFc5uwZKl4iFlardyfW-Q1ZqC1ElmaB60MCNEPL-DUXC1gCE-oqZO-8V6DhKu0zHxCo1Tq6-fL0okLAD-bbKsbd_X_G1TG1Qa_RLRgKacfFgGxkhpGgui3MX2K0zns9og7Cby2Sru6oiP/s320/IMG_4560.JPG" width="320" /></a>Tuesday afternoons the bottle truck comes to our neighborhood. It is exactly like the garbage truck except it pick up only the plastic cans with the special top for bottles. The picture also illustrates what happens when a large wide truck moves slowly, with intermitent stops, up a narrow heavily travelled street. Traffic comes to a complete stop, and horns are honked to now avail.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6XgGfkxsjg2CqYYaoIQBqRqYhZiwkjskIW6YNAZOI_-fa_02hnBuI46nWI-dDwvwi1ADUZ_ejYtVpET8X9L7hirCJd8q0j77SKjvYo9Twz1Uyvu_vBKsQ8vaCT4t9FzjCVDE9Sym9yBSE/s1600/IMG_4673.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6XgGfkxsjg2CqYYaoIQBqRqYhZiwkjskIW6YNAZOI_-fa_02hnBuI46nWI-dDwvwi1ADUZ_ejYtVpET8X9L7hirCJd8q0j77SKjvYo9Twz1Uyvu_vBKsQ8vaCT4t9FzjCVDE9Sym9yBSE/s320/IMG_4673.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>This is the bird's eye view of our evening trash pickup. The trucks have two different color schemes, one off white, the other dark and almost lime green. The trucks are kept clean and the mean wear dark green coveralls with lime green safety jackets. You can see the back of the truck, the green square can in the lift, and one of the team members. Occasionally the driver will hop out and help and the team work is remarkable.<br />
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</div>CharlesShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11548475957690019501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5533310574623130662.post-65985157581756761712011-10-06T07:49:00.000-07:002011-11-18T10:33:23.082-08:00October 2,2011, Quai de l'Archeveche<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfsYV4SEDf4HA3Z8Qu-C5jV6eX7-xZS3TBSqv_ISkl6ASnH2gyoecF20z0rZjwi75jZ0qlogfiglciMLNFt36jstKFBEk26EpUrS4Su2Fa_vJ26ohEz9PEeBebiHvlORbNfp24_6eRbg_0/s1600/IMG_4660.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfsYV4SEDf4HA3Z8Qu-C5jV6eX7-xZS3TBSqv_ISkl6ASnH2gyoecF20z0rZjwi75jZ0qlogfiglciMLNFt36jstKFBEk26EpUrS4Su2Fa_vJ26ohEz9PEeBebiHvlORbNfp24_6eRbg_0/s320/IMG_4660.JPG" width="320" /></a>This is the other side of the Pont de l'Archeveche (pedestrians only) where the locks are beginning to accumulate! Below is the garden of Pope Jean XXIII and the rear of the cathedral. I cannot find the correct architectural name for the spire above the nef but below is another view.</div><br />
<div style="border: currentColor;"><img border="0" height="240" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-rYYOZBlsLUmPlv5NUHwZy1771mvoXMMBErJAxzhtenSHxk1EDt4v-Y4KcNZaz10HXrn7e9Zlgu-0vYF_K4KZQSbwazvBhZdQzzZcAFdBpuhjWjqnj_m80GVA6SfZSzUXLltDd4Y-NeEh/s320/IMG_4661.JPG" width="320" /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrHBAcwRzus79vJENBUCzb8ECOLFaO6StPWjS1iZGd36I9P6GoZ7x60EnwkDh-wnFlN0DzR2fXI5_LCz99hkicvN0EKvHJeWeKkFa74x-0muJ8zdOw8LngFtBlJn_J1S8nG8xDsiKf6qAk/s1600/IMG_4662.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrHBAcwRzus79vJENBUCzb8ECOLFaO6StPWjS1iZGd36I9P6GoZ7x60EnwkDh-wnFlN0DzR2fXI5_LCz99hkicvN0EKvHJeWeKkFa74x-0muJ8zdOw8LngFtBlJn_J1S8nG8xDsiKf6qAk/s320/IMG_4662.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The Ile de la Cite is part of the original Paris and this is a view of the spire above the nef (I think) thrugh a tiny passage. Below is a patient artist - I peeked at his work and it the line drawing with a very thin black line seemed very promising<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjID1eRJh6db1tS1Y7JIIO-sY6FdWzfnNTBm2MHb4kdvT1cgGGDPAMOC2-ZrRUXKzr6EbTAXnkeMJty8Rb1a60VCA4RD1qBOZYXQAIRY8R1yYrX0dJU5U1dnDlppetkYkQOv_-wmwsIm8OP/s1600/IMG_4664.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjID1eRJh6db1tS1Y7JIIO-sY6FdWzfnNTBm2MHb4kdvT1cgGGDPAMOC2-ZrRUXKzr6EbTAXnkeMJty8Rb1a60VCA4RD1qBOZYXQAIRY8R1yYrX0dJU5U1dnDlppetkYkQOv_-wmwsIm8OP/s320/IMG_4664.JPG" width="240" /></a>.</div><div class="separator" style="border: currentColor; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-rYYOZBlsLUmPlv5NUHwZy1771mvoXMMBErJAxzhtenSHxk1EDt4v-Y4KcNZaz10HXrn7e9Zlgu-0vYF_K4KZQSbwazvBhZdQzzZcAFdBpuhjWjqnj_m80GVA6SfZSzUXLltDd4Y-NeEh/s1600/IMG_4661.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>CharlesShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11548475957690019501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5533310574623130662.post-63745102356158827472011-10-06T02:31:00.000-07:002011-11-18T10:34:57.431-08:00October 2, 2011, Quai de Montebello<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBN4rAHvDRDVP4cyk1RarawxMx-Bu822NIxJoLgJXfF3-HIzTydzdhsWZ1fSwNIy-MdA_o2_-LOWmc6gKoj2FHliEAUrDnehEE5h0rSgzLaISDacrfEms0bBc4XJgQphAfhvWykKbQWsYt/s1600/IMG_4656.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBN4rAHvDRDVP4cyk1RarawxMx-Bu822NIxJoLgJXfF3-HIzTydzdhsWZ1fSwNIy-MdA_o2_-LOWmc6gKoj2FHliEAUrDnehEE5h0rSgzLaISDacrfEms0bBc4XJgQphAfhvWykKbQWsYt/s320/IMG_4656.JPG" width="320" /></a>Notre Dame from the corner of the Quai de Montebello and the Pont (Bridge) de l'Archeveche (sorry, can't put in the accents). The peniche (river boat) in front is permanently docked here and is a dandy place for a sit and a drink on a hot days. Behind it you will see a bateau mouche (sightseeing boat) moving up the Seine.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi-uS-ZOuDPpdKgg5IUAlKGgYKAMfpi-IsjQIVh2hCrmZJVuJd7dNZKoIa11FMeQtXMO-dKzr91vFoOOdvaIbHiSkongzZaQ0bYmH2HXmMhCbap5x6CF5D8fGsj4xtenfPaFmZW6SYFORd/s1600/IMG_4658.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi-uS-ZOuDPpdKgg5IUAlKGgYKAMfpi-IsjQIVh2hCrmZJVuJd7dNZKoIa11FMeQtXMO-dKzr91vFoOOdvaIbHiSkongzZaQ0bYmH2HXmMhCbap5x6CF5D8fGsj4xtenfPaFmZW6SYFORd/s320/IMG_4658.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This is the railing of the Pont of the Archeveche covered with locks of every size and descritption. There are two bridges in Paris where it has become the thing to do to put a lock and through away the combination or <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvyZcUAmf-ZryHhegSrWl2pQlP56LcPojY0U7O1FCPgV8fv8-j0cf0ExxyitbM0JIg-R7LEd2WEhM9Gomsyj1Kju3AJ59JC5wgliZ_NPsM-uTUxhKQXYt74Xoj32hcUIssPD19VHB4hnjM/s1600/IMG_4659.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvyZcUAmf-ZryHhegSrWl2pQlP56LcPojY0U7O1FCPgV8fv8-j0cf0ExxyitbM0JIg-R7LEd2WEhM9Gomsyj1Kju3AJ59JC5wgliZ_NPsM-uTUxhKQXYt74Xoj32hcUIssPD19VHB4hnjM/s320/IMG_4659.JPG" width="320" /></a>the key celebration your togetherness. Occasionally one lock will have a piece of veil attached to it. The other bridge is the Pont des Arts (pedestrians only) from the Place de l'Institut de France to the Louvre.</div>CharlesShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11548475957690019501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5533310574623130662.post-63993547695989144332011-10-06T02:11:00.000-07:002011-11-18T10:36:23.057-08:00October 2,2011, Quai Saint-Michel to Notre Dame de Paris<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBN9zSJisOHCuc88XBcxhpE7E_GuF2n6uT8yFpfYbwb6o1Fen9cF0OphLhVXF3XSytNuw1Zah5V90lh1C18ppiQlK-z2jUrONY0bh_DnvM8HpBCtmBEqfgWTY3QhY6uXqd13vTvK_j8Wyo/s1600/IMG_4647.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBN9zSJisOHCuc88XBcxhpE7E_GuF2n6uT8yFpfYbwb6o1Fen9cF0OphLhVXF3XSytNuw1Zah5V90lh1C18ppiQlK-z2jUrONY0bh_DnvM8HpBCtmBEqfgWTY3QhY6uXqd13vTvK_j8Wyo/s320/IMG_4647.JPG" width="240" /></a>This is 19, Quai Saint-Michel, an apartment building where Colette's father's cousin, Jean Launois and his wife, Aimee, lived. Many other well known French artists lived here including Matisse and Marquet. We do not know which floor he lived on and the one person I have met who did, and who knew Aimee, refused to give me the time to get the details. In any case the view over the Seine toward Notre Dame de Paris is splendid.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQA7DhuNvaaMc9NedIGRQ6JLMmLaapXIBA7Xoe1YskFmgi_RU_rdgHcTRPRl2v3zi83pQvwPx5fPN84bqKqAM7E-BzsqLLlqfLp0lZNw3Nzhs-OLKEiVCCwlyjoOBa-G_I54aM_fi_B8BY/s1600/IMG_4650.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQA7DhuNvaaMc9NedIGRQ6JLMmLaapXIBA7Xoe1YskFmgi_RU_rdgHcTRPRl2v3zi83pQvwPx5fPN84bqKqAM7E-BzsqLLlqfLp0lZNw3Nzhs-OLKEiVCCwlyjoOBa-G_I54aM_fi_B8BY/s320/IMG_4650.JPG" width="240" /></a></div> This is the view from the sidewalk across the street from the apartment building. I think Albert Marquet painted it<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTuVoWdg4jJwSxNzVZQ04BgiXgG4lMl_iphhxKKkHaj4E-d86shpa0FumXqZM_20QlPP2XvTg8ESOFp_8PUb4l9x4vkiEDhzhDKeaiTcVJ6p832UY-PobKps7TNekEu_kthbz8lLtfSw3p/s1600/IMG_4652.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTuVoWdg4jJwSxNzVZQ04BgiXgG4lMl_iphhxKKkHaj4E-d86shpa0FumXqZM_20QlPP2XvTg8ESOFp_8PUb4l9x4vkiEDhzhDKeaiTcVJ6p832UY-PobKps7TNekEu_kthbz8lLtfSw3p/s320/IMG_4652.JPG" width="320" /></a>.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> I will try to put in the name of the bridge later, but this<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXyIGtertH_Xxrs1mxd0WMj0bItHoW4IcjzFyAnI2d__y2r_dGKQC1NeRdSPfiAxYpAbLTHIO35My9QigCyYl02dTPRWWMy5MXgOL4dHHGUG2uUkluX0Z5buijs5ZBLLWZMFvp_LwgkJYx/s1600/IMG_4654.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXyIGtertH_Xxrs1mxd0WMj0bItHoW4IcjzFyAnI2d__y2r_dGKQC1NeRdSPfiAxYpAbLTHIO35My9QigCyYl02dTPRWWMy5MXgOL4dHHGUG2uUkluX0Z5buijs5ZBLLWZMFvp_LwgkJYx/s320/IMG_4654.JPG" width="320" /></a> the bridge that crosses this arm of the Seine leading to the place before Notre Dame that is, was, crowded this warm and brilliant day with tourists, including some French!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div>CharlesShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11548475957690019501noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5533310574623130662.post-24073379902721639402011-10-06T01:55:00.000-07:002011-10-06T01:55:51.417-07:00Left Bank, October 2, 2011<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXKHNgi8HRos_jVbogrG6DY4czZp_jSU5R2-OoR65EMTTkD5iYJDN1D51cYgrhc-oCJgjSVvPptgFhL2wmj-8-owscGaYRr3CJnzZxVnWmzKwbwmLBpjCXmls8kE8E4wYMNl29MWzX4ETn/s1600/IMG_4640.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXKHNgi8HRos_jVbogrG6DY4czZp_jSU5R2-OoR65EMTTkD5iYJDN1D51cYgrhc-oCJgjSVvPptgFhL2wmj-8-owscGaYRr3CJnzZxVnWmzKwbwmLBpjCXmls8kE8E4wYMNl29MWzX4ETn/s320/IMG_4640.JPG" width="240" /></a>The court yard of the Musee des Arts & Metiers, and the bronze casting of the original Statue of Liberty. The Museum is worth the visitng for its exhibits relative to science. It has the original airplane that was the first to cross the English Channel from France to England.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtl-9zXl7fBSvcfTh0fFydbtzm-jXNwuSNjBIeIVvwYNH91rHchzEsJVoteQQ70Qcx9B3XYmGmcxy5qh8-SrFLgJMkCPOzgn2xS1IBcyL5sPh4ZU20y7A-TBfO4toXwhEVsB8FUb_a5v_r/s1600/IMG_4642.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtl-9zXl7fBSvcfTh0fFydbtzm-jXNwuSNjBIeIVvwYNH91rHchzEsJVoteQQ70Qcx9B3XYmGmcxy5qh8-SrFLgJMkCPOzgn2xS1IBcyL5sPh4ZU20y7A-TBfO4toXwhEVsB8FUb_a5v_r/s320/IMG_4642.JPG" width="320" /></a>On the quai of the Metro station of Sebastapol-St. Denis, tourists trying to find their way. After Chatelet the Metro tunnels under the Seine to Il de la Cite, then <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8w0n8j6C4UxTQzTJN5SQ9nz8_levP7Z6ac_YwjrtJ4RPUuyNp1yxVQWxZJFCWB3DUJe_j_JqfLWR7h9qVrsCSleRbGq5AzjmDHOkQ_l7jyLkscIyVBu2F-7aH30vGxL_UMyAghBe8dYjx/s1600/IMG_4643.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8w0n8j6C4UxTQzTJN5SQ9nz8_levP7Z6ac_YwjrtJ4RPUuyNp1yxVQWxZJFCWB3DUJe_j_JqfLWR7h9qVrsCSleRbGq5AzjmDHOkQ_l7jyLkscIyVBu2F-7aH30vGxL_UMyAghBe8dYjx/s320/IMG_4643.JPG" width="240" /></a>Place Saint-Michel, and the escalator up to the lobby floor. This is one of the original and deepest of the Metro stops, and is in a giant casson. Look down th steps, across the floor to the ticket style then lift your eyes and you will see the iron plates.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFRAR1SSW2KY2AZet07tsellya-fecbeTAlDoeiU779qe_eJGsn2JjhpuzhV34JHyUFz0wWiuHbbcaykw9BMFl6SisTZ2g8BqVNo1rE2cA2vBYAaYLkj1W0OVEiStjIkgMfhMWzNliwxbx/s1600/IMG_4646.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFRAR1SSW2KY2AZet07tsellya-fecbeTAlDoeiU779qe_eJGsn2JjhpuzhV34JHyUFz0wWiuHbbcaykw9BMFl6SisTZ2g8BqVNo1rE2cA2vBYAaYLkj1W0OVEiStjIkgMfhMWzNliwxbx/s320/IMG_4646.JPG" width="240" /></a>This is the Place Saint-Michel, artistically not to everyone's taste. it is the beginning of the Left Bank, the Boulevard Saint-Michel (Saint'Miche) and the Latin Quarter where the original Sorbonne is located. This was also the site of fierce fighting for the liberation of Paris and memorial plaques are on the sides of the fountain to memorialize the fall French fighters.</div>CharlesShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11548475957690019501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5533310574623130662.post-40243146799773818152011-10-04T07:24:00.001-07:002011-10-04T07:24:50.556-07:00Paris, October 4, 2011<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">Tuesday, September 27, 2011</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">After breakfast I pulled out the 2007 Paris yellow pages looked for Television, Arrondissement 3, and found a repair person.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>First number dialed had been discontinued, and second number had an answer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We discussed my problem and he man seemed to understand what our problem is, we fixed a time for this afternoon, cost of the house call (E35), and we hope that the situation will be resolved.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">Paris Pictures </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">I am having trouble with my laptop, not new; it has its own priorities which do not include mine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I get around to mastering the art of sneaking them through the self-editing system of the lap top hopefully they will come in batches of five.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">Batch 1.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Colette waiting in the main departure lounge of RDU.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is rather nice and reasonably quiet, and CNN is not played at the maximum volume.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Already A plus.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were boarded, seated, and on our way in fact before schedule departure time and landed in Atlanta about 20 minutes early.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Colette’s at the gate and we were on our way from Domestic Terminal B to International Departure Terminal E.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For those of you who are acquainted with the Atlanta Terminal you will understand that distances are measured possibly in miles, and almost hours, or so it seems.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">Gate 3 of Terminal E was empty when we arrived, and full when our flight was called.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We “preboarded,” airline parlance before the crowd.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Delta flight attendants are Para-military in boarding procedures so it went relatively quickly and again we were off the ground before our scheduled time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dinner was served, see pictures, at 90 minutes after takeoff followed by the drinks wagon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Delta has two menus in economy class, pasta and chicken.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This trip the pasta was elbows with a pesto-type sauce, and the chicken was cooked in mysterious way, accompanied by potatoes and I think a vegetable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Don’t look too closely.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">The shop window is of two clothes dummies appropriately dressed for – I imagine – teenagers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However what we see on the street is quite different.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Here the young people seek out successfully the grungy look, old jeans, torn- and battered, matted hair.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The only apparent difference between male and female is the male need shaving, badly.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">The <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Hotel de Ville</i></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> has a very large cemented space in front of it that is a constant source of activity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the winter it is an ice rink, and the rest of the year it has a variety of activities from semi-commercial (eco friendly automotive and scooters) to youth recruitment for apprentice-type training.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My favorite is bread making and generous samples.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt;">The second batch of pictures includes a group of young tourists on bicycles with its American girl leader.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The bikes are the small-wheels folding ones, and each carried a name of historic significance such as George Washington, and various French men of state.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So each rider could remember which bike was hers or his.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt;">The Tour<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> Saint-Jacques</i> is one of my favorite sites in Paris.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For years it was covered with scaffolding and now that the repairs have been completed it is splendid.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It sits in the middle of park where two of the principal theaters face each other with the Tower in between.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One is the Sarah Barnhart Theater and the other Paris Comedy (I’ll check on the title).</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt;">The back of the Beaubourg Museum, also known as the Pompidou, is a vast well that serves as a stage for a rich variety of exhibitionists, living statues, jugglers, musicians, and the steps down serves as seats.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Pompidou is known for its original architecture and colors.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The art collection is mostly contemporary including one of the two official repositories of the work of Colette’s father’s cousin, Jean Launois.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have several of Jean Launois’ drawings and watercolors in Chapel Hill if you would like to see them.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt;">I have spent a lot of time and several trips to France trying to do background work on Jean Launois leading, I hoped, to a biography.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The research still is not complete and it is not likely to happen for reasons beyond my control (and pocket book).</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt;">Wednesday, September 28, 2011</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt;">We are still faced with three activities: 1. Preparing to sell the apartment; 2. Activating the television; 3. Colette selling some of her antiques she inherited from her parents and she has collected on her own.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">1.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Preparing to see the apartment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are committed to lending it to a grandnephew and his girl friend for two months or so beginning in November.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pierre is now a certificated commercial pilot and his girl friend is an ENT physician.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The job market in France and Europe for newly fledged pilots is thin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pierre father is a retired Air France long-distance captain and he is circulating to his pals that he has a son that is looking for employment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pilots are made, not born, and part of the making process is the certificate then, like American baseball players, working in the provinces for awhile for recognized serious companies, no arms merchants need apply.</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt;">This process thus involves circulating his availability internationally (enter his father) and transmitting cv’s as well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pierre hopes to travel to Dubai and other hot places in January and if he finds something, his girlfriend will follow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is a demand for ENT physicians even if there is not one for newly certified commercial airline pilots.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">2.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Activating the TV.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This has become more complicated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Several years ago we were informed that our apartment building was to be wired for TV, or that the City of Paris was doing something about wiring the city.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In any case, roof top antennas were not to be permitted, like in Rome, where the city is covered with them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Last year our small but manageable TV, operating with an antenna on its top, did service, if not brilliant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This year we turned it on and got a snow storm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt;">Each person we asked gave us a different solution.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pierre dropped by and informed us we needed a “little black box” to resolve the issue.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My experience with Mr. Darty’s employees, regardless of the millions of Euros spent on advertising their value as a new best friend, was limited.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, as noted earlier, I hopped the friendly No. 75 bus to downtown, got off at the Hôtel de Ville stop, walked back the two blocks (past a particularly attractive sandwich and pastry shop and did not stop for anything) to the Bazaar de Hotel de Ville (BHV to the initiate).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On the 5<sup>th</sup> floor after interviewing and being interviewed by 3 different employees who, surprisingly enough, wanted to be helpful, a 4<sup>th</sup> gave me the information I needed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He did not have the little black box in stock but if I went to Darty or FNAC I could probably find one.</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt;">To cut a long story short, I have had my fill of Darty and its not helpful employees, so I made it to FNAC, in the basement of The Form, more about it later.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This also was another Paris experience of employees willfully harassing a foreigner who does not know what he needs to know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, after outwitting the outwitters, I struggled home, on foot, almost paralyzed from an aching back, with a magic antenna in a beautiful box.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt;">More frustration.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It did not work either.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now, a week later, still more activity with Darty, we have concluded that we will not be able to enjoy TV in France this trip.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Happily there is a public library.</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt;">Saturday, October 1, 2011</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt;">After a week of frustration with laptop related items it may be functioning again.</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt;">Colette and I interviewed Friday, October 31<sup>st</sup>, and in returned were interviewed, by a sales agent for C-21 Realty, one of 4 offices in Paris.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was interesting being on the seller side of the interview instead of on the listing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was also interesting to note the differences in approach to the problem.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After a shaking of hands, the agent, first name Sophie (we addressed her as Madame, of course) addressed her first questions to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In turn I advised her to ask her questions of Colette as the owner/seller.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After the initial questions of when did you buy the place, Colette took Sophie on a tour of the apartment, all two rooms plus kitchen and bathroom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In a businesslike manner Sophie then paced off of the rooms for measurement purposes<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and, without using a calculator advised us that she estimated the area of our apartment at between 40-45 square meters (m2) which, she said, she would use 45 m2 instead of the 48.5 m2 that we had been advised it was.</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt;">Monday afternoon we will meet Sophie in her office and learn for how much she would propose marketing the apartment.</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt;">When Colette purchased the apartment in 1997 it was essentially a lower-middle class neighborhood, mixed commercial (ground floor) and residential, upper floors.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In its favor was its access to Place de la Republique and five Metro lines, rue du Temple Metro Station and Arts & Métiers, one famous restaurant just around the corner (L’Ami Louis, expensive) and easy access to shopping two long blocks away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the 15 years we have lived here we now have a grocery store (FrancPrix) three stores down, 4 additional restaurants, at least 3 art galleries, and a coiffeur for women operated by an African-American.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The former corner bistro has been sold and closed, and we are informed that it will be a chic corner bistro.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is not promising, depending on the hours.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If it is open week-ends and will not be a plus!</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt;">The building is old.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was built sometime during the late 18<sup>th</sup> century or early 19<sup>th</sup> century, earlier rather than later. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The apartment does have charm and individuality; the visible beams, hand hewn, reveals its age as does its plumbing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have had contractors in to correct problems of windows that don’t open and the front door not closing or, once closed, impossible to get opened again. In the case of the windows, not opening, as is the case with the door, each technician explains to us slowly in beginners French that the building is very old (someplace between 100- 200 years) and it moves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not reassuring! And each time the building moves something gets stuck.</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt;">Tuesday, October 4, 2011</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt;">We met with Sophie at 3 p.m. Monday afternoon, September 2<sup>nd</sup>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because of Colette’s respiratory problems the Metro (subway) systems presents a problem unless she walks slowly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Metro has no provision for aged or informed, the stairs are steep and come of the corridors between stations can be very long.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The bus system is excellent but you cannot transfer between lines.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Alternatively taxis are plentiful if you can find a taxi stand and don’t mind the costs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt;">We left the apartment at 2:15 PM, a 10 minute walk to Place de la République, then down the stairs to the departure platform (Direction Creteil).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The trains run frequently so in less than 5 minutes we were at the Bastille and we started walking to get the train told Defense.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We walked and walked, and Colette was quite exhausted by the time we arrived at the above ground station.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our stop was the first and we then had to climb more stairs and come out onto a Faubourg Saint Antoine near where Colette lived until we married.</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt;">This part of Paris is all history and the streets reflect this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We found the agency where Sophie works and crawled in the door –into, of course, the unairconditioned office.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sophie was ready for us and after a refreshing cup of water we went to work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will not tell you how much she estimates would be the lowest to the highest selling price of the apartment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However the real issue was a recent change to tax laws that come into effect November 1<sup>st</sup>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If we have a contract to sell the apartment before that date, the tax on the gross profit after deductions of acquisition costs would be depend on how we had owned it as a secondary residence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The gross amount would 31% less a reduction for each year of ownership up to 15 years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After 15 years it is 0.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, we have owned it for 14 plus years, so our share would be approximately 10%.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not too bad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But the new law that comes into effect November 1<sup>st</sup> extends the period of ownership from15 to 30 years, so our tax on the profits would be in the range of 50%.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have an interest to try to sell it before November 1<sup>st</sup>. </span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt;">We told Sophie that we would think about it over night and call her first thing in the morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This morning we called and made an appointment for her to come to the apartment and sign the listing agreement.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is now done, pictures have been taken, and we cross our fingers and hope for an early buyer!</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; tab-stops: 306.75pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span></div>CharlesShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11548475957690019501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5533310574623130662.post-23532426619056727012011-09-27T01:47:00.000-07:002011-09-27T01:47:52.383-07:00Paris,<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">Paris, Wednesday, September 22, 2011</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">The check-in process at RDU was rapid and easy, the two-hour wait for departure was quiet and comfortable - no background music and the CNN TV loudspeakers were relatively quiet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The trip on Delta from RDU to ATL left a few minutes ahead of schedule and arrived in ATL ahead of schedule.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The wheel chair for Colette arrived quickly and we were off from terminal B to Terminal E at a dead run.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were among the first passengers in the large and uninspired waiting room, no nearby coffee or food available, and again the almost two hour wait was relatively comfortable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We asked for pre-board so when the departure was announced we were the first to board and to get settled before the crowd arrived. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">Our seats were two abreast just behind an emergency exit - row 22 F & G, and the toilets were just ahead. By one row.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As the passengers came onboard the cabin crew turned on the music, ghastly noise in a minor key sung by woman with no voice to speak of in a minor key.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We complained to the flight attendant who said “other don’t mind it.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The passenger next to us, in front of us and behind called out in chorus “We don’t like it.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">The flight was scheduled to leave at 8:35 PM, and we left about 10 or 15 minutes before that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When cruising speed reached dinner was served followed by the drinks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The dinner was approximately the same as the last trip we had on Delta, a choice of chicken or pasta.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not bad, uninspired but it was hot.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">In-flight TV was too far away to be seen, so Colette curled up and went to sleep, I read a little then pulled on a mask and also fell asleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Eventually breakfast was served, an egg scrambled with cheese and green pepper, very well warmed, but not very good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We landed at Charles de Gaulle 40 minutes ahead of schedule it took more than 10 minutes on the ground before the plane was parked at its gate, and, again, Colette’s wheel chair was waiting at the door of the airplane.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our pusher loaded Colette’s little wheeled overnight case under the chair, Colette took my shoulder bag with the laptop in it on her lap, and off we went.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">For once we were relatively close to the central terminal, our luggage arrived, oh happiness! Among the first, and the wheel pusher had us in a taxi and on our way at 12 noon instead of 12:30 PM or 1 PM as we had expected.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Traffic into Paris was relatively light and we were at the apartment in about 40 minutes and Euros 50.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">Saturday,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>September 25, 2011</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">Since our arrival on Wednesday the excitement in our lives on our return to Paris includes housecleaning, TV, cell phones, laptop WIFI and a dishwasher.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The housecleaning<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>is a result of the renovation work going on in the apartment above us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is owned by a little old lady who permitted her big, fat, unpleasant movie projectionist son to live there with who ever was his current live in girl friend.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our early problems with him when we moved in in 1998 was the volume of rock and roll and his then girl friend who vacuumed at midnight wearing what sounded like high heeled shoes and an occasionally barking dog.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As these problems diminished as Colette harassed them into turning down the volume, quieting the dog, changing girl friends (the new one continued vacuuming at midnight wearing high-heeled shoes) new ones developed - more serious ones.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A leak developed in his kitchen that he refused to have corrected.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The property management company was ineffective in its intervention and the leak became more pervasive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Eventually part of the kitchen and bathroom ceiling began falling and rot developed in the beams.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">One of the important charms of our little apartment is the beams.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When the building was built - and we do not know where, the beams were hand carved from hardwood trees with dulls cutting instruments and they show it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As a result of the water damage one had to be replaced.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The mother evidently decided that sonny should fend for himself and he was relocated (with girl friend) and the mother has let a contract to modernize the apartment and to sell it. A lot of the work involves drilling something and, as result, bits and pieces of the century’s old plaster ceiling showers down into the three room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On top of that problem major plumbing work was done in the courtyard this last winter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Happily we were not here!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The original plumbing under the court yard, probably dating from mid-1800’s, had to be dug up and replaced and this involved cutting a channel through the cement paving.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our friend and neighbor was kind enough to do an initial cleaning up of our apartment with our little vacuum broom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From his description it was not comparable to the eruption of Mount Vesuvius and the dust fall on Pompeii and Herculaneum but it was significant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even after the valiant efforts of Ricardo there is still plenty of dust for us to play with and to keep us from doing other more important things, like resting from the trip.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">The TV does not work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It took passive detective work to learn that Paris has been rewired and if you do not have cable - we did not - we need a little black box.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was not easy and involved a visit to a nearby Darty, theFrench equivalent to Lowe’s without lumber and with electronics where our problem got no sympathy whatsoever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I took our friendly bus 75 to one of our favorite stores, Bazaar de l’Hotel de Ville, VHV to the initiated, escalators to the 5<sup>th</sup> floor where, after three interviews with reasonably sympathetic sales persons I learned that what we needed was alternate TNT.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sorry, we don’t have any and none are expected until next week, perhaps, try another store such as Darty or FNAC.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Darty was out of the question so I went to FNAC is the Forum.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This involved taking the escalator down 5 flights, three blocks on the Rue de Rivoli, then a right-hand turn and about 4 blocks through throngs of tourists to the Art Deco area of Le Forum which is now being torn down.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">Into the Forum, underground, I found FNAC where every teenager of Paris was buying CD’s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After inquiries and another escalator ride up one floor I found the TV show area where the first inquiry lead to a second, and the second inquiry lead back to the first, an Alternate TNT was located, Euro 24.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>By this time my aged back was aching.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I found my way out, not easy, located an exit sign and followed it to fresh air and sunshine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I passed the Beaubourg Museum, crossed rue de Beaubourg, another block to rue du Temple where I was beckoned by a friendly café where I collapsed and order a glass of red wine (Rhone) to rest.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">After a glass of wine I thought I could manage the walk home and I found my way to the apartment 30 minutes later.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">Now to install the Alternate TNT.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was easy, the directions were clear, and the TV still does not function.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Unhappily there is no little shop where such things can be repaired!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">The dishwasher has to have a visit by a qualified mechanical psychotherapist as after prolonged absence, it will not work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It has to have it front removed, various pieces pulled and pushed before it will work again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So we wash by hand.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">The Paris-wide free WIFI is still in place but I cannot get into it and I can’t find anyone to help.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have renewed my membership in Espace Public Nurmerique (EPN) but the person I need to see is not there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So I cannot use my laptop in the apartment, and the EN is opened only during the week, so week-ends I am forced to come to the nearest café, the Café Leopard, and spend Euro 5.20 for a glass of red wine, and use its WIFI.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The drawback here is the Paris addition to really awful American music but I have found a corner where it is less loud.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">Sunday, September 25, 2011</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">First impressions after an absence of 10 months are the visible numbers of what appears to be public works programs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Driving in from the airport we passed a wonderful little park, our first sight of Paris and traffic jams.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However at lunch time the traffic is not as bad as during the early hours of the morning commute.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But at the cross streets traffic moves slowly and to the right a corner of the park has become a heavy equipment depot and supply center.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Large earth moving </span><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">machines and stack of long and big pipe that are destined boo be buried in the appropriate holes at regular intervals around which traffic winds its way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The sewage system of Paris is entering at least is second century of use and it is now being replaced.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>20 minutes later we are circling the Place de la Republique and then into rue du Temple and a right in to rue de N.D. de Nazareth and home. </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">No public works programs here but later I walk back to the Place de la Republique to get my cell phone turned on and find that along the side walk wide and deep ditches reveal large cables, small cables, mostly black and large diameter orange ones that are a common conduit for many smaller cables.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I watched in wonder as the operator of a small backhoe picked up a very large sack by one tang of his fork to open the mouth of the huge sack wider.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Here dirt is not piled on the side of the hole, it is put in these big sacks and carried off somewhere for storage.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Monday, September 26, 2011</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The week-end went quickly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Saturday afternoon I took my laptop to the Café Leonard and wrote the above and drank a glass of red (Rhone) wine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Colette had purchase a frozen dinner at Mr. Picard’s shop (one of more than 200 spread across</span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"> France) so preparing dinner was evening.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We still do not have television so I read a mystery set in the Renaissance in Rome and Colette looked at back copies of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Antiquaties</i>.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">Tuesday, September 27, 2011</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">After breakfast I pulled out the 2007 Paris yellow pages looked for Television, Arrondisement 3, and found a repair person.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>First number dialed had been discontinued, and second number had an answer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We discussed my problem and he man seemed to understand what our problem is, we fixed a time for this afternoon, cost of the house call (E35), and we hope that the situation will be resolved.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; punctuation-wrap: simple;"><br />
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</div>CharlesShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11548475957690019501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5533310574623130662.post-55990861975919593462011-09-19T12:49:00.001-07:002011-09-19T12:49:46.735-07:00Paris 2004<h1 style="margin: 12pt 0in 3pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: large;">Paris 2004</span></h1><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Letter from Paris, No. 1</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Wednesday, April 28, 2004, as the romantic sound of the <u>poubel</u>, the very efficient garbage service of Paris underneath our windows, the flashing light on the top of the truck in my eyes, our first full day in Paris draws to a close.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We arrived a week ago after a difficult change of planes in Philadelphia, running from the C terminal to the new International Terminal and - against all odds - two breathless senior citizens were boarded before the doors closed, and we were en route. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">On arrival in Paris, and against all odds, our suitcase did arrive, the last two, and then we were greeted by the “April in Paris” cold, heavy rain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Good luck, we had a taxi driver, a charming woman, neatly coiffed, who knew our section of Paris. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">The next day we took a taxi back to Charles de Gaulle Airport and a short flight to Rome.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were looking forward to a reunion with dear friends that we had known in Saigon and had last seen in New York when Klaus was at the German Mission to the United Nations. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">From Paris to Rome via Alitalia was pleasant, an excellent cold lunch was served and, interestingly enough, the three flight attendants were men not the accustomed gorgeous Italian young ladies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On arrival our suitcase came quickly and we looked for taxis.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">We were accosted civilly several times by men in attired in black suits and white shirts and black ties offering cut rate fare to Rome, Euro 15 each.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were tired of walking so we agreed, and followed our new guide to his little bus, already packed with luggage and other passengers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His English was better than my Italian, he knew the neighborhood where we were going and off we went.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So for Euro 30 plus a Euro 5 tip we got quickly to our destination.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The normal fare would be Euro 45 or more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Taking his card, we promised to call him for the return trip to the airport.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Moreno Perucci, Limousine e Minibus, tel 338 2820 554. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">With the exception of Monday morning, during our stay the sky in Rome was as grey as Paris, and rain showers were frequent.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">We arrived at Klaus and Angelica’s house in about 20 minutes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Set in a very large garden behind walls, it is just outside the walls of Rome at the<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Angelica does not drive in Rome so she has learned to ride the city bus system to the surprise of many of her German, Italian and other expatriate friends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Klaus was out-of-town for the day but would join us later at the German Cultural Center where an amateur jazz group from Berlin would be playing with food and drink accompanying it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Angelica ordered a taxi to take us into town and while the typical Roman taxi driver went with verve, unnerving us not by his speed or his audacity, normal in Rome, but his attention to the GPS screen in front of him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While we caught up on each other’s news, children, and travel, Angelica let drop that the next time we came to Europe they would be in Paris!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Klaus had accepted a transfer. and they would move in July.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We expressed delight, of course, as we would be back in the fall, but disappointment as we were looking forward to another visit to Rome soon.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Saturday afternoon we had planned to take a bus to downtown Rome and look for Bramanti’s Tempietto.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Klaus volunteered to drive us there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He had grown up in Rome, had most of his primarily school education there, where he had also learned to drive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He had served there after his tour in Saigon, so obviously knows Rome and speaks Italian as a native.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The trip up to the Tempietto was challenging in a heavy rain and, as we turned into the court yard the skies really opened up and we were deluged by a heavy fall of large hail.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We decided to give up on sightseeing that day and return to the house where Klaus’ wife, Angelica, offered welcomed refreshments.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Sunday Klaus drove us to Ostia Antica.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Under a grey sky and cold breeze we explored the ruins.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a fascinating look into the life and times of a commercial port town in early Christian Rome.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then on to lunch across the road from the fishing port at the <u>L’Orologia di Fiumicino</u>, via della Torre Clementina, 114, 00054 Roma, tel. 066505251, closed Wednesdays.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">It is a very small restaurant where Klaus is well known; all four tables were filled, one with a family of 12.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Colette and I had tagliatelli with a mix of mussels and langoutines in their shells, and the tagliatelli had bits of fish and shrimp. Klaus had a salad of<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The first course was followed by a whole baked sea bass, accompanied by a light, chilled white wine.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">However, on Monday, the day before our departure we took the city bus into town and we had a lovely morning permitting us to renew our acquaintances with the Piazza Novena, the Pantheon, and trudging up a hill, the Scuderie del Quirinale, the wonderful art gallery across the top of the hill from the offices of the president of Italy, to see an exhibition of some Velasquez, Benin, and others on loan from El Pardon, London, Paris and Budapest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Occasionally as our needs we required, I tried what is left of my Italian on policemen or innocent passersby and, with one exception, a lady with a tiny baby, all had enough English to solve our problem.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">After the Pantheon, tired, hungry, we crossed the Corso and into a little street that we hoped would lead to the Scedure di Quirinale.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A few steps, then to the right, and we nearly tripped over two neat little tables with chairs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We went inside the little bar, the sandwiches looked good, as they always do in Rome.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We selected two different ones, the barman put them in a grill, and after we sat down, he brought them to us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Delicious, with a bottle of water, followed by a black coffee, we then had to the courage to continue.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The little bar is <u>Wine Café al Corson</u>, Vicolo Sciarra, 60 -00186 (angele via del Corso).</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Now back in Paris, not much warmer than Rome, and we are faced with the housekeeping problems left over from a nephew who lived in our <u>pied a terre</u> for the last school year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He did not have many housekeeping skills.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The telephone answering machine had to be replaced, the telephone does not work quite right, so we make trips to renew batteries.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">However, our <u>pied a terre</u>, actually a <u>pied </u>on the first floor, is comfortable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Built about 1850 +/-, probably as lower-income rental properties, with dubious plumbing and a water pipe on the landing, it has charm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The previous owner chopped out the plaster in the roof to divulge the beams, some of them badly eaten by what ever bugs eat beams nominally covered in plaster.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The kitchen ceiling is a disaster since a long, slow leak from the kitchen above it has left stains, hanging bits of plaster, and each morning finds bits of and pieces on the floor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A year ago at the annual meeting of the condo association it was agreed and promised that repairs would be made by the association; it has not be done yet.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">What we call our section of Paris is not what most of you know from your several trips here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We live in a working class neighborhood in the third arrondisement.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our zip code is Paris 75003.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Known as the <u>marais</u>, it is one of the oldest parts of Paris.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our apartment is located on <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">rue de la Notre Dame de Nazareth</i>, abbreviated as <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">rue de la ND de Nazareth</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Its great advantage is we are equal distance from three Metro (subway) stations, Place de la Republique, Temple, and Arts et Metier.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is a 10-15 minute walk from here to the Picasso Museum, to the Beaubourg Museum, and five minutes more to my favorite Paris department store, the Bazar de l’Hotel de Ville, and then the Seine.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Our neighborhood is very mixed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The shops on the Rue de ND de Nazareth are primarily wholesale dealers in leather work and sport fashions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The shopkeepers are Algerian, Tunisian, and Jewish.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Halfway between our apartment and the rue du Temple is one of the larger synagogues of Paris.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have only one bistro, on the corner of our street and rue Volta, two doors to the left.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Happily for us, it is open only during the week from 8 AM to 6 PM so while it is busy during the day, evenings and weekends it is quiet.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">On the corner of rue Volta and Rue de Vertbois is a restaurant, Le Clos de Vertbois, of which we have heard very good reports.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On the other side of the street is an Argentinean steakhouse that has good business, and to its right is Ami Louis, one of the more expensive restaurants of Paris.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When we are here and Chirac brings his friend Bill Clinton there to dinner, our neighborhood is sealed off from the outside world.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Of our neighbors, the most important of which is, of course, the <u>boulanger</u>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Originally Tunisian, like so many of our neighbors, he has fresh bread four or five times a day, <u>baguettes</u> are the first in demand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He also has some patisserie, and now soft, cold drinks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For the occasional urgent purchase of salad, potatoes, milk, even a bottle of wine the Tunisian to the left on rue Vertbois is always glad to see us and, after ceremonial greetings, is ready to help us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Our apartment is small, very small.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The kitchen has a window, an antique table in front of it, a small refrigerator sitting in a support so we do not have to get on our hands and knees to look for some important element of our dinner, and a wonderful stove.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The stove has three gas burners, one electric burner, an oven with an electric, still unused rotisserie and, wonder of wonders, in the very bottom a very efficient little dish washer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is no room for a laundry machine in the kitchen, much less a dryer.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Washing clothes and household linens in no problem for the coin-operated washing place is just around the corner off rue Volta.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Colette puts everything in little trolley (Thrift Shop, Chapel Hill) and she is there in about three minutes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One load costs Euro 3.50, and the dryer Euro 1.50. When she returns she always has observations to share about the other customers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Once there were about five large young men and women trying to put all their dirty clothes in an oversized washer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They asked Colette’s advice in broken French; she assisted them and learned they were from Georgia, in Russia, not the U.S.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">In a little room in the back of the coin-operated washing machines is a cubby hole where a woman operates a little sewing business.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Recently Colette was there when a young man arrived to have a pair of slacks shortened.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With little awareness that he was not alone, he took off one pair, pulled on the new ones, and the sewing lady pinned him up and asked Colette’s advice on the length.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The young man then pulled off the new pair, put on the others, and left.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">We cannot tell you much about the restaurants of Paris.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Lunch, at home, is usually a sandwich made from half a <u>baguette</u>, split in half, with excellent mayonnaise that comes in a tube that has a little Dijon mustard mixed in, and a slice of ham.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Each trip we plan an evening out but we have yet to make it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We would like to try <u>Le Clos de Vertbois</u> but it does not start serving until after 8 p.m.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But after an afternoon outside, at a museum, window shopping, household errands, we are ready to eat at our normal dinner time, 7 p.m.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Since we are on vacation Colette resists cooking in our very little kitchen so sometime during the day we make a stop at Monoprix or, preferably, Picard, to see what frozen dinner meets our imagination. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Picard is a chain of stores throughout France that sells only frozen foods including veggies, fish, meats, snacks, hors d’oeuvres, and meals.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Frankly there is nothing comparable to it in the US.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wish I could send you a copy of its catalog (see Picard.fr).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At Monoprix, an all purpose chain found throughout France, the frozen food section contains meals prepared using recipes of well known chefs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Once again the choice is enormous and decision making is difficult.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">When we need anything for the apartment or if we shop for food, in addition to Monoprix, there are several alternatives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The first choice is the rue de Bretagne; there are several excellent butchers, the Marché des Enfants-Rouges.fr, a hardware store (quinquillerie), boulangerie and pastisserie, a very refined wine store, and don’t forget florists and other miscellany plus, of course, bistros, and a famous restaurant specializing in Tunisian couscous.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">But speaking of food, no trip to France is complete without a visit to one of the two famous shops on the Place de la Madeleine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our favorite used to be Fauchon that is now upscale complete with a doorman.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, walk by it and tourists are usually looking through the windows at the prepared dishes beautifully presented.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fauchon has gone upscale with a very large picture of a young lady stretched at roof level, a doorman at the curb but it has lost the clubby feeling that made it so welcoming.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">We have abandoned Fachon in favor of Hediard (see Hediard.fr), on the other side of the Church of Madeleine, very old world atmosphere, and a wonderful choice of anything that may be important to you: Wines, coffees, spices, canned exotica and, upstairs, a restaurant..<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course it also has a doorman to help you in and out of your chauffeured car.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We arrive by foot from the Metro.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The service is personal and patient.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Travel in Paris outside of rush hours is easy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Metro has been renovated and its cars are bright and comfortable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The bus system is more sophisticated but I have finally learned to use it between certain points, but traffic is heavy so it sometimes takes twice as long as the Metro.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Two of the Metro lines are extraordinary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Line No. 1 from La Defense to the Chateau de Vincennes, crosses Paris.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The cars have large windows, comfortable seats, and there is no division between cars so you can see the length of the train.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The newest line is from Madeleine to the new National Library and it is quite extraordinary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Completely automated, the doors open and close without your assistance, and again there is no division between cars so you can see the full length.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The stations are cheerful, and that at the Botanic Gardens has great plants.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Friday, May 7<sup>th</sup>, I took the Metro to the Chateau de Vincennes with one change at Nation, and arrived at the Chateau de Vincennes in about 20 minutes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I returned I took the bus, also one ticket direct to the Place de la Republique, 45 minutes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was fortunate to have a seat for most of the trip the bus was very crowded.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">The Metro and bus system tickets cost Euro 1 per ride.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On the Metro you can change trains (Correspondence) at no extra cost.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With the bus system there is no transfers.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">One of my ongoing projects is documenting the life of a French artist by the name of Jean Launois (1898-1942).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His father was a cousin of Colette, and Colette inherited a number of his drawings and watercolors.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I am in Paris I try to continue the pursuit of details, not very easy, as Launois’s life is not that well documented although his pictures are relatively well known.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">I am now well adapt at using the libraries and archives of Paris.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have permanent cards to several of them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I start at the little library on the 4<sup>th</sup> floor of the Mairie of the Third Arrondissement, where we live.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is, of course, a branch of the main Paris library and although very small has good basic reference works, a collection of murder mysteries mostly translated from the English and American, and shelves of French novels and classics.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To get a card there you need proof that you are a resident of Paris which is done by providing a gas or electric bill with your name on it, and identity card, in my case a passport.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The librarians there have been very helpful in obtaining books through interlibrary loan and, on two occasions I have crossed Paris to use materials in other branches.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">The National Archives in Paris, the National Library (the Mitterrand Library), and the Archives and the Bibliotheque of the Armee de la Terre at the Chateau de Vincennes is not quite the same nut.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There you present yourself, you explain your purpose, you produce identity, and you are given a card.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The nest step is to meet with a research advisor to begin the research process.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At the National Archives the documents are computerized; when your document has been identified you are given a paper with its identification on it, and you proceed upstairs where you check in, leaving coats, briefcases in a locker, then you are given a desk, you turn in your paper with the research information on it, and you sit at your desk and wait.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It can take anything from half and hour to a day, but you can leave and return, check in and out.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">At the National Archives the box I was handed turned out to be a collection of correspondence from the Director of the Museum of the Palace of Luxembourg, from almost the beginning of the20th C.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Here were the original documents itemizing the purchase of pictures by the museum, and letters from him about his work.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Letter from Paris No. 2</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">The difficulty of a short trip to any destination, known or unknown is meeting your expectations and those of friends and family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In our case this problem is amplified by distance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Colette’s nieces live, respectively, in the south (Montpelier) and the west (Brittany).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My friends are similarly dispersed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Once back in Paris we made telephone calls to set up our different itineraries.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">My friend Brigitte and her brother, Gilles, have retired to the center of France in a little, very little, village of Meaulne. Brigitte’s family had a garage business in Bangui, Central African Republic where I was at the embassy from 1967 – 1969.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Another friend of the same period is Jean-Francois, now a retired General of the French Medical Corps and he lives in Brittany.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We agreed to meet in Les Sables d’Olonne, a fishing port, resort area, and a center for international sailing races.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The purpose of meeting there was to see and exhibit of drawings and paintings by my artist, Jean Launois.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To add to the complications, the niece of Jean Launois, Brigitte Launois Demay was to meet me at the exhibit where I would say goodbye to my other friends and leave with Brigitte Launois Demay for a two day visit with her at her home in Longeves, near Niort.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Friday, April 30, 2002</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">As part of our preparations for our trips, Colette to the south of France, me to the center of France, we prepared sandwiches, half a baguette with ham and mache for green.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">I walked with Colette to the bus stop on rue du Temple where she took the No. 20 to the Gare de Lyon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I returned home, had a cup of instant coffee, then closed the apartment and walked up to the Place de La Republique to take the Metro to the Gare de l’Austerlitz.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just before the Seine the Metro surfaces and takes to the air past the new and awful Ministry of Finance building, across a bridge, to one of the few above ground metro stations. Pulling my little suitcase on wheels behind me I descended to ground level, followed the signs and entered the Gare d’Austerlitz, one of the least preposing of the railroad stations in Paris, now undergoing massive rehabilitation to brighten it up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Austerlitz is smaller than most of the stations of Paris.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But it does not offer the variety of the others where there are shops, café/bars, ample seating areas and that make waiting for a train in Paris pleasant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">My train to St. Amand Montrond was an old one, not a TGV (train de grand vitesse).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The trip was pleasant, and the French country side was in contrasting colors of green, gold and brown.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The green, newly sprouting fields of wheat, corn, or turnips (I guess!); the gold of the ripen rape awaiting harvest; and the brown the tilled, but not yet planted fields.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">I enjoyed my sandwich as we sped toward our destination, Bourges.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Coffee was sold from a cart; at Bourges the train was broken up and the part of the train in which I was a passenger tacked onto another electric engine destined for Montlucon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>French trains travel at high speeds, even the old ones, but stop only for two minutes to embark and disembark passengers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I stepped down from the train, turn to give a hand to a spry lady even older than I am, and turned to find Brigitte and Gilles waiting for me, with Jeep, their West Highland Terrier.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">From the time I first became acquainted with Brigitte and Gilles, their parents and cousins in Bangui, they were and continue to be the most avid approvers of all things Americans imaginable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Especially automobiles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In Bangui their company represented International Harvester.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They had a Buick in France for their vacation and until recently Brigitte had a Dodge Tourister modified to burn liquid petroleum, the same as we use for our bbq’s as well as the usual gas, not that unusual in France. Brigitte assures me we do this in the US but I have never seen it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Before retiring they had a Volvo marine engine agency in the south of France; as part of their retirement they sacrificed the Dodge for a new diesel Volvo station wagon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Their very pleasant three bedroom cottage would bed welcomed anywhere in the US particularly with its French doors from the two bedrooms, dining room and living room that face the little patio, and overlook a field.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Nearby is the home of Alain Fournier who wrote <u>Le grand Meaulnes</u>, a heavily romantic novel set in the years before WWI.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Alain Fournier died in action but his novel lives on.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">The next three days included visits to the Abbaye de Noirlac, the Chateau of Meillant, George (without an s) Sand’s home, the Chateau de Nohant, the exterior of the Chateau of St. Armand Montrond, and last but not least the wonderful Palace of Jacques Coeur in Bourges.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Lets talk food for a moment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All French women and French men are not wonderful cooks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve known some who could boil water but burn it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Brigitte is an exceptionally good cook and her moules frites were wonderful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Moules are, of course, mussels, cooked rapidly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She cooks them twice, the first time to drain the salt water from them, which she saves; the second time with butter, white wine, then adds the water from the first cooking and a little cream, and it is wonderful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her French fries (produced by an American company in France, frozen: you cannot find the equivalent in the US) are excellent; she does them in an Italian deep-fat fryer and it does the work and does it well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A second meal was wild salmon cooked in “pappiote.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ll call and get the details.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was very well done, the salmon succulent, not too fishy, and the little shrimp added color and taste contrast.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Tuesday morning we were up early, had a typical French breakfast of coffee, bread and butter (croissants are for the occasional Sunday extravagance), and were in the car and on our way by 6:45 AM.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The weather was not beautiful, cloudy, drippy, but it did not distract from the scenery.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were driving west toward the Atlantic through the Bourbon country of France and the chateaux and forts are still visible at close hand, as are Roman period churches.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So much to see and not time to!</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">By 11:00 AM we were lost in darkest downtown Les Sables d’Olonne, but we did eventually find Jean-Francois, his miniature black poodle sitting at his side.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jean-Francois had a cap, a shirt open at the neck and sleeves rolled up to his elbows.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He did not look the part of a distinguished, retired, medical General of the French Army.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He said he was not cold, but Brigitte, Gilles and I were glad to have our waterproof jackets against the fresh and strong breeze, with some light rain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I would have welcomed another layer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Jean-Francois was already checked into the two-star Hotel de Commerce, 8, rue Hoche, 95100 Les Sables d’Olonne, tel. 02 51 32 02 80.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Brigitte and Gilles check in and we were ready for lunch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With some confusion, cars and dogs were sorted out, and we set out for the port for lunch. The choice of restaurants was difficult, there were many, but the Hotel<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Restaurant du Port, 14, Quai Garnier, 95100 Les Sables d’Olonne, tel. 01 51 32 08 47, was a happy solutions. Brigitte had a platter of oysters, coquillages, (little shell fish, three different types), and langoustines.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What she did not finish, we did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gilles and I had oysters, followed by tagliatelli with shellfish and langoustines, and Jean-François had a very large serving of oysters followed by stuffed ray. Les Sables d’Olonne is a fishing port, a summer resort, and a year around sailing port for the serious.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">After lunch back into the car to drive to Le Musee de l’Abbaye de la Sainte-Croix where an exhibit of Jean Launois’ water colors of his Algeria period were hung; there were also cases with interesting familyj documentation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">As planned, our cousin Brigitte Launois Demay met me there as scheduled, and after introductions, mutual interests were notified and the next half hour was a discussion of life in Algeria in 1942 where Brigitte’s mother and her four children spent the war years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jean –Francois was there as a young intern.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Brigitte and I said our goodbyes and left to drive to her home an hour away from the coast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After a family party the next day, Brigitte drove me to Niort where I took the TGV back to Paris.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Saturday, May 8, 2004, Buy new umbrella, E 7.5, Musee National Medieval de Cluny, tapisserie, La dame a l’icorne, lunch at <u>Pizza la Sirena</u>, 73, boulevard Saint-Germain, 75005 Paris, Pizza au feu de bois, tagliatelli avec langoustines, mussels, very good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Driving rain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We replaced umbrellas!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dinner with Jean Curtil, Sarkosy, taxi home in the rain.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Monday, May 10, 2004</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">9 PM, home from the library of the Armee de la Terre, the Chateau de Vincennes, where my research into the French Army on the Italian Front during WW I went ahead, but inconclusively. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The purpose of my research is to try to find first hand accounts of the battles the French Army units fought in Italy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have found some pictures in old <u>L’Illustration</u>, but nothing first hand for the period when my artist, Jean Launois, was serving in Italy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His experiences were so dreadful that he said he did not want to talk about them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The only descriptive material on the horror of this particular part of the WW I is in Earnest Hemingway’s <u>Farewell to Arms</u>, and the defeat of the Italian Army and its retreat across the Piavo almost a six-months earlier..<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">By the wonderful, open, bright Metro line Chateau de Vincennes to La Defense that crosses Paris, 20 minutes later I got off at the half way mark, the Hotel de Ville.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The purpose of the trip was to visit the Bazar of the Hotel de Ville, my favorite department store in Paris to shop for a non-battery powered telephone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This accomplished, I started the walk home, up the Rue du Temple, left on Blvd. Reamur, Right on to Rue Volta (Italian Physician who developed the battery<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>the sign under the street name reads, in French of course), and soon I was tapping the code on the magnetic pad that has replaced the concierge to unlock the doors of our building into the court yard.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">A glass of wine (biological,) while I prepared dinner and had a telephone call from Louise, our daughter in Raleigh, to assure me they were well, as were our respective dogs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I spoke briefly to Ian, our son in New York City, who gave us news of his wife, Eva, also an architect, and Javier, his father-in-law, who was visiting from Rome.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Watching the news French Channel 2 (our TV 5 at home in Chapel Hill) was depressing as more details were unfolded about the Iraq mess, and as I listened loud music interrupted the news broadcasted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I opened the windows to peer out and saw a happy man with a paper cup walking back and forth across the street, looking up and waving and, behind him two musicians.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The first a trumpeter, the second playing what looked like a small French horn and pulling behind him a battery powered tap player.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could recognize the music from the trumpeter and the horn player, but not the portable orchestra.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Only in Paris!</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Wednesday, May 12, 2004, Achives, Chateau de Vincennes, cold, cloudy day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After usual wait my two boxes were available, and neither produced anything of real interest about the Italian campagn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Home, sandwich, the sun came out and for the firswt time a beautiful day.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">After lunch and nap metro to the Trocadero and then a leisurely walk down, across the bridge to the Eiffel Tower, many tourists, seemingly as many French as foreign.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The wlk along the Seine was pleasant, cross the pedestrian bridge, taking pictures as I go.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At the Place Alma Marceau what appears to be a gold ball with wird spikes on top of pyramid draws my<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>attention.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I cross to the pedestrian island then take a picture, before crossing to the base of the pyramid to read the inscription.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is replica of the flame of liberty held by the Statue in New York with an inscription of gratitude to France.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I bed George W. Bush has never seen it.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Thursday, May 13, 2004<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Another cloudy day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Buy and read Le Mond and The NY Heral Tribune, each more depressing than the other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The news from Washington and Iraq.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><span lang="FR" style="mso-ansi-language: FR;">Na</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><span lang="FR" style="mso-ansi-language: FR;">Hotel le Relais du Marais, 76, rue de Turbigo, 750034 Paris, </span><a href="mailto:anyl.pirba@wanadoo.fr"><span lang="FR" style="mso-ansi-language: FR;">anyl.pirba@wanadoo.fr</span></a><span lang="FR" style="mso-ansi-language: FR;"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><span lang="FR" style="mso-ansi-language: FR;">Musee Marmottan Monet, 7, rue Louis Boilly, 75016, Paris, tel. 01 42 24 07 02</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><span lang="FR" style="mso-ansi-language: FR;">La pierre du Marais, 96, rue de Archives, 75003 Paris, tel. 01 42 77 25 02</span></div>CharlesShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11548475957690019501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5533310574623130662.post-71588053594066625222011-09-17T14:20:00.000-07:002011-11-18T11:48:05.652-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5cwco2FghpKB050Vg67xwNjH31rFHfQfEAYtFP3vsI6n83c2LaZcGc_204M_AdlcN8l6Y0QU2bciz0bYZImmehqUKdxIPjc37ohwYXfv-HYfTkhkfs-Fknx5v0kMZkLiRLYrQx1AOkGTa/s1600/Paris+2006+002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5cwco2FghpKB050Vg67xwNjH31rFHfQfEAYtFP3vsI6n83c2LaZcGc_204M_AdlcN8l6Y0QU2bciz0bYZImmehqUKdxIPjc37ohwYXfv-HYfTkhkfs-Fknx5v0kMZkLiRLYrQx1AOkGTa/s320/Paris+2006+002.jpg" width="320" /></a> Chateau d'Ainay-le-Vieil, 10/9/05, "A renaissance chateau within a feudal enclosure complete with its moat. In the part lived in by the owners thee are souvenirs of Louis XII, Colbert, Marie-Antoinette, Napoleon. The renaissance chapel has murals from XVI and XVII centuries have recently been restored." It is owned and lived in by te same family since the 16th C. We walked along the top of the wall, no guard rail, on the interior side and no place for for someone with a tendency toward fear of heights.! It has a collection of gardens that we did not have time tovisit plus stables.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilyX-e0PF1irQQ-o_tISj_qZw3Vv3n7vk4M5rN3thMWjbzCEnqWvgTZ90e7J_TLMt9mpj6FugLfjo9IFOgR2V_zyVnCFwJ7RJCO09fsvFptXb2fUjD2ihAGX8C-vnbWaNQ4QivHyw8lbvg/s1600/Paris+2006+004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilyX-e0PF1irQQ-o_tISj_qZw3Vv3n7vk4M5rN3thMWjbzCEnqWvgTZ90e7J_TLMt9mpj6FugLfjo9IFOgR2V_zyVnCFwJ7RJCO09fsvFptXb2fUjD2ihAGX8C-vnbWaNQ4QivHyw8lbvg/s320/Paris+2006+004.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO39faoMhW3oqd1IIoz5aHul7oW6HtVLwNCyyHi95_9CPr4dcmiwIm1L_V6R0gGJEDreD9vPbyF7FrWp60cn30iIdmJIS2nGkbwHTu7oE9oFtgHlPbos_2maPucURjDfkaMjEy2DOBrXQm/s1600/Paris+2006+074.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO39faoMhW3oqd1IIoz5aHul7oW6HtVLwNCyyHi95_9CPr4dcmiwIm1L_V6R0gGJEDreD9vPbyF7FrWp60cn30iIdmJIS2nGkbwHTu7oE9oFtgHlPbos_2maPucURjDfkaMjEy2DOBrXQm/s320/Paris+2006+074.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="vspi" rawurl="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%89glise_Saint-Eustache,_Paris" sig="kkZ"></div><span class="tl"></span><br />
<h3 class="r" rawurl="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%89glise_Saint-Eustache,_Paris" sig="kkZ"><a class="l noline" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%89glise_Saint-Eustache,_Paris" kobi="1"><span style="color: #1122cc;">Église Saint-Eustache, Paris - </span></a><button class="esw eswd eswh" g:entity="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%89glise_Saint-Eustache,_Paris" g:pingback="/gen_204?atyp=i&ct=plusone&cad=S0" g:undo="poS0" title="Recommend this page" type="submit"></button><button class="vspib" type="submit"></button></h3><div class="s" rawurl="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%89glise_Saint-Eustache,_Paris" sig="kkZ"><span class="st">L'église <strong>Saint</strong>-<strong>Eustache</strong> is a church in the 1st arrondissement of <strong>Paris</strong>, built between 1532 and 1632. Situated at the entrance to <strong>Paris's</strong> ancient markets (Les Halles)<strong>. </strong>The statue is "listening to the heart beat of Paris."</span></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidsUnMTC5OBgEefBdr8MKLIkKqSrzxS4EcM5XR18v6Xm6A2q56JDLRbGt3HkawzIR2rMNboRW1RpXGrq4_HyeAAb7ZdGkMCtpx115aaso1OQAKekGrFbbzwnA7ZFQ5_BdQu8czkMY91Q2g/s1600/Paris+2006+126.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidsUnMTC5OBgEefBdr8MKLIkKqSrzxS4EcM5XR18v6Xm6A2q56JDLRbGt3HkawzIR2rMNboRW1RpXGrq4_HyeAAb7ZdGkMCtpx115aaso1OQAKekGrFbbzwnA7ZFQ5_BdQu8czkMY91Q2g/s320/Paris+2006+126.jpg" width="320" /></a></div> Chateau de La Palice, Lapalisse, Auvergne, Allier, France, XVIIe, still inhabited by the La Palice family.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEX6pcvX2Mrg5ANEVgGocgFLY7P8ocaey6hhFx5GNDMMEm2QP7r9Fbv0XFH_HZY9BtUGAUQIrzGF0oeJUG-PRqbZAW6eWhmU1kqVAHRak_uNEQs5xBjFAhdC9LrJDF0Iuy9g3hvlPMIwNy/s1600/Paris+2006+118.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEX6pcvX2Mrg5ANEVgGocgFLY7P8ocaey6hhFx5GNDMMEm2QP7r9Fbv0XFH_HZY9BtUGAUQIrzGF0oeJUG-PRqbZAW6eWhmU1kqVAHRak_uNEQs5xBjFAhdC9LrJDF0Iuy9g3hvlPMIwNy/s320/Paris+2006+118.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRBjyuK2Hm2IdehCUWJndYcIIqlkNemaev4aQclkz357pgQKvTVaCJMTpOw-7mw9M8P06tNN-rK2PD8EzDF_WUilstlbIe0jMmphnUI4U1-q5poHiVP2nMJhAIGwqUXolfeKJFtcJpvXQv/s1600/Paris+2006+128.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRBjyuK2Hm2IdehCUWJndYcIIqlkNemaev4aQclkz357pgQKvTVaCJMTpOw-7mw9M8P06tNN-rK2PD8EzDF_WUilstlbIe0jMmphnUI4U1-q5poHiVP2nMJhAIGwqUXolfeKJFtcJpvXQv/s320/Paris+2006+128.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWoBb8JFR1d0XRs97QVjSMAayKJeleLQd9_0c5YHDmnMedbpC3KFQ6HrcgjsddZRV1tSzc8x-goNVnafoQXNFlf7Ec22Vk_W5Xhhvh12JukRrutrT6bxXw0WRoazy9vSYwRpQhM9cg_78X/s1600/Paris+2006+130.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWoBb8JFR1d0XRs97QVjSMAayKJeleLQd9_0c5YHDmnMedbpC3KFQ6HrcgjsddZRV1tSzc8x-goNVnafoQXNFlf7Ec22Vk_W5Xhhvh12JukRrutrT6bxXw0WRoazy9vSYwRpQhM9cg_78X/s320/Paris+2006+130.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>CharlesShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11548475957690019501noreply@blogger.com0Western Europe46.498392428539375 3.427733999999986729.789792428539375 -29.262943500000013 63.20699242853938 36.118411499999986tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5533310574623130662.post-56715993125368041852011-09-17T13:46:00.000-07:002011-11-18T11:48:51.595-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuZ7gXwwisScDGFguIlpc0TYzBRh6ul7beLSlyK5mD3pGc9_ZYhFSR18ZD68nHebcvi71g_k50__ME6HrCub4OcafiJYtB6bkRFe3A6crqLJjJTvi0nKK6uYw8Rt2h9MyRApECaS8DezhV/s1600/140px-Train_wreck_at_Montparnasse_1895.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuZ7gXwwisScDGFguIlpc0TYzBRh6ul7beLSlyK5mD3pGc9_ZYhFSR18ZD68nHebcvi71g_k50__ME6HrCub4OcafiJYtB6bkRFe3A6crqLJjJTvi0nKK6uYw8Rt2h9MyRApECaS8DezhV/s1600/140px-Train_wreck_at_Montparnasse_1895.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: right;">1895, Gare Montparnasse, brakes failed!</div>CharlesShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11548475957690019501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5533310574623130662.post-18093442775529200492011-09-17T13:43:00.000-07:002011-09-19T13:18:38.064-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd5urIaOt6jwwYrM6_bZqAmuhNeh5F_wZs6SLhDrboC5gUqgkruzxBRYuWcjbbbuOK2I_b8AdbUqnRO9I4kp0WzAv52A2KbE48nZIoGKtFQHBpoGf54II7NU7kVRfaKjyWeF3_z9mvgevb/s1600/IMG_2005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd5urIaOt6jwwYrM6_bZqAmuhNeh5F_wZs6SLhDrboC5gUqgkruzxBRYuWcjbbbuOK2I_b8AdbUqnRO9I4kp0WzAv52A2KbE48nZIoGKtFQHBpoGf54II7NU7kVRfaKjyWeF3_z9mvgevb/s320/IMG_2005.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Square du Temple</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><b><span class="srTitle">Pierre-Jean de Béranger</span></b><b>,</b> (born Aug. 19, 1780, Paris, France—died July 16, 1857, Paris), French poet and writer of popular songs, celebrated for his liberal and humanitarian views during a period when French society as a whole was undergoing rapid and sometimes violent change. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiBhJLk3sZ0GoZrHXus6zEbWwsPKyxHY4YyLwphG4cqm0WszqDGDXCsCExhJRpW8NNiHsVQg1PE_4v_3KFfVpanp01IwFum4xsAJEveYKdSXK4K6Fo4NlSxTgl7FPS0xS6mxr9IqeUTBnh/s1600/IMG_2006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiBhJLk3sZ0GoZrHXus6zEbWwsPKyxHY4YyLwphG4cqm0WszqDGDXCsCExhJRpW8NNiHsVQg1PE_4v_3KFfVpanp01IwFum4xsAJEveYKdSXK4K6Fo4NlSxTgl7FPS0xS6mxr9IqeUTBnh/s320/IMG_2006.JPG" width="320" /></a>Béranger was active in his father’s business enterprises until they failed. He then found work as a clerk at the <a class="bps-event-selector bps-topic-link" href="http://www.britannica.com/EBchecked/topic/443814/Universities-of-Paris-I-XIII" title="University of Paris">University of Paris</a> (1809). He led a marginal existence, sleeping in a garret and doing literary hackwork in his spare time. After the downfall of Napoleon, he composed songs and poems highly critical of the government set up. <br />
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Duck pond Square du Temple<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL2DTnxSA2joUWcXmY5_nyS6HoMKyCjsqWspmZIu4-PPpTs0jNj8L79fcDm3KeJBfJk4PpnQyFTPgPc5MEqBmetzzhPk-pRnGht5PGA-ECYslpnBGkeXdD_NUI3-TLL5xFPJpVwLaiDoW5/s1600/IMG_2074.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL2DTnxSA2joUWcXmY5_nyS6HoMKyCjsqWspmZIu4-PPpTs0jNj8L79fcDm3KeJBfJk4PpnQyFTPgPc5MEqBmetzzhPk-pRnGht5PGA-ECYslpnBGkeXdD_NUI3-TLL5xFPJpVwLaiDoW5/s320/IMG_2074.JPG" width="320" /></a>Gare du Lyon (Railway station serving south of France). <em>Le Train Bleu </em>is the name of the famous restaurant on the first floor still decorated as it was during </div><em>la belle epoque</em>.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinHM7dvRHnpjsPX_YSgoz62k_nbF7j51s3kW-g4EPzhpfC4-RIVFB8QqGImomPJwAqbAQLjogFQcjMbcrIM-9wXF-dHSO8MSjzHHpWkpvRmLwiC5plLrOdYXiRkFjnwzYyCJIxhHcb2k0n/s1600/IMG_2075.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinHM7dvRHnpjsPX_YSgoz62k_nbF7j51s3kW-g4EPzhpfC4-RIVFB8QqGImomPJwAqbAQLjogFQcjMbcrIM-9wXF-dHSO8MSjzHHpWkpvRmLwiC5plLrOdYXiRkFjnwzYyCJIxhHcb2k0n/s320/IMG_2075.JPG" width="320" /></a>Interior Gare du Lyon</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDUb-wN3tQqUncrV7thgv8sLymfu14Ev9StKpW9P_t0nXsZ8RdSOzyiQXT-36vFoi1BG7PVbe-wYbrUpugqMJOk7o5l3wfC0Whf3DzxHBBvl0DIgcNo0CHV5sIEG0L1FOUeFTbup6q5yP7/s1600/IMG_2100.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDUb-wN3tQqUncrV7thgv8sLymfu14Ev9StKpW9P_t0nXsZ8RdSOzyiQXT-36vFoi1BG7PVbe-wYbrUpugqMJOk7o5l3wfC0Whf3DzxHBBvl0DIgcNo0CHV5sIEG0L1FOUeFTbup6q5yP7/s320/IMG_2100.JPG" width="320" /></a>Hotel de Ville (City Hall of Paris)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbCthd5MLi6vYUlsAED8HevAHuJfdNIWGGr0egWArRghmmgpt2qaj6YYEnDUWYU1TBt_r5TKwlTKs7Z7rss-0x8NzAGQDYdToiYZrvaIMZFCj71zaKgfMqR2248Y102wKiixiXurzRGN8n/s1600/IMG_1991.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbCthd5MLi6vYUlsAED8HevAHuJfdNIWGGr0egWArRghmmgpt2qaj6YYEnDUWYU1TBt_r5TKwlTKs7Z7rss-0x8NzAGQDYdToiYZrvaIMZFCj71zaKgfMqR2248Y102wKiixiXurzRGN8n/s320/IMG_1991.JPG" width="320" /></a>Coletting resting, Newark Airport</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqcNFEa53mH2HoGkDvBU55CbR-zMXXWmYlckVIxq8LUalDftXw9aZv0fBnT3WII0zKsWM4VEpYQ-JuCXWDVKSE3oi-GJXlja1-dsbI9wGvFrfC5_avzcDvRDxxNHKl0PE34ZfEYyzhoZmM/s1600/Paris+2010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqcNFEa53mH2HoGkDvBU55CbR-zMXXWmYlckVIxq8LUalDftXw9aZv0fBnT3WII0zKsWM4VEpYQ-JuCXWDVKSE3oi-GJXlja1-dsbI9wGvFrfC5_avzcDvRDxxNHKl0PE34ZfEYyzhoZmM/s320/Paris+2010.JPG" width="320" /></a>Air France, Dinner.</div>CharlesShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11548475957690019501noreply@blogger.com0France48.048710107921643 3.251952749999986743.149260107921641 -4.3588472500000135 52.948160107921645 10.862752749999988tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5533310574623130662.post-30258776190301637392011-09-17T13:18:00.000-07:002011-11-18T11:50:12.000-08:00Charles in Indonesia<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR9HOWCY5WoEOMgDkrVmxaX7Mkoa4yWgxl6Moso09G7fqYgQmiJIcpQXk3-3n5T1obuWHM2oxOlShkwkup5bgBLNy32lzUtrMP9FrsvbmlLUEheiu7aewQsUTjHNfPOI9P319GgzS4r7HI/s1600/Charles+in+Indonesia+01.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR9HOWCY5WoEOMgDkrVmxaX7Mkoa4yWgxl6Moso09G7fqYgQmiJIcpQXk3-3n5T1obuWHM2oxOlShkwkup5bgBLNy32lzUtrMP9FrsvbmlLUEheiu7aewQsUTjHNfPOI9P319GgzS4r7HI/s320/Charles+in+Indonesia+01.JPG" width="247" /></a></div><span style="font-size: x-small;">A photograph of me, taken in the mountains near Bandung, Indonesia, sometime in 1974.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The photo was taken by Willem van der<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>), whom we had known in Saigon during 1970-1972.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Willem took the picture.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was sitting inside the little beer hall on a rickety chair, looking out over a deep and lush-green valley; Willem was standing outside his back to the vertiginous drop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">I was in Indonesia as part of a team from the Asian Development Bank to identify and describe possible development projects.</span></div><div class="MsoBodyText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Willem was the First Secretary of the Dutch Embassy in Djakarta, and we were on our way to the mountain guesthouse of the Dutch Embassy to escape, for the weekend, the steaming heat of Djakarta.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Willem had all the instincts of a “get away” driver at the wheel of his new German sport sedan but none of the skills.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The road from Djakarta to Bandung was steep, winding, and heavy with traffic in both directions - taxis, trucks, trucks loaded with logs, buses packed with passengers inside, on the roof or holding on outside!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Willem looked everywhere except the road, changing gears noisily as we went up the mountain, passing on curves, pointing out sights as the road followed the side of the mountain, straight up on one side, straight down on the other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I never expected to make it to the guesthouse, much less back to Djakarta!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Just before the guesthouse we stopped at a rustic roadside stand for a cold beer, very much needed. Willem, using my Nikon that I had loaded with ASA 400 Kodax color film and, in spite of the cloudy and foggy atmosphere the sensitive lense and fast film froze my trembling lower jaw!</span></div><div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The guesthouse was not as attractive as I had expected, but comfortable, dating from the 1920’s. Unlike the guesthouses that I had known in French and<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>English Africa here there was no houseman to serve (usually in a not very white uniform consisting of a shirt, shorts, and barefoot) nor a reasonably good cook in the kitchen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dinner that night was from a can.</span></div><div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The following afternoon the drive back to Djakarta was equally thrilling!</span></div><div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Chapel Hill, NC<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>January 20, 2005</span></div>CharlesShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11548475957690019501noreply@blogger.com1Indonesia-5.0033940990890535 105.02929649999999-13.666044099089053 81.875596499999986 3.6592559009109458 128.1829965tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5533310574623130662.post-66617547814329780742011-09-03T12:38:00.001-07:002011-11-18T12:12:34.257-08:00Paris, September-October 2010Paris, 2/23 – 11/1/2010<br />
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Wednesday, September 22, 2010. Depart RDU via Continental Airlines for Paris via Newark Liberty International Airport. #1 & 2, our flight at the gate. The in-flight announcements were loud enough to cover the noise of the turbo props and the creaking of the wings, or whatever it was that made the noise. On arrival at the gate in Newark, a wheel chair was waiting and the pusher set of at almost a dead run to get us to our departure gate. I had no idea that the terminal was so large! I did have a difficult time keeping up with Colette in the wheel chair, even by walking as rapidly as I could and using the people movers. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-abiPC8XRRks/TmOIoVGsCrI/AAAAAAAAACg/oxBB7rDEbRg/s1600/IMG_2988.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-abiPC8XRRks/TmOIoVGsCrI/AAAAAAAAACg/oxBB7rDEbRg/s320/IMG_2988.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-c2CfIwsZm_A/TmOIovjuExI/AAAAAAAAACk/foqfpUfpF1w/s1600/IMG_2991.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-c2CfIwsZm_A/TmOIovjuExI/AAAAAAAAACk/foqfpUfpF1w/s320/IMG_2991.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>We did not have to go through security again, so Colette settled down #3 to waiting for our departure. The Continental personnel at the gate were making announcements, intelligible!, in both English and French. The problem as it developed was that our flight would leave on time but the 9 pm NYC-Paris flight had been cancelled because of the strikes in Paris. Continental was offering $400 plus hotel and meals to anyone who would delay his/her departure until the next day. We did not want the hassle. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6tHtIRFVogg/TmOIp4dSOwI/AAAAAAAAACs/8BjxgnRtZoQ/s1600/IMG_2993.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6tHtIRFVogg/TmOIp4dSOwI/AAAAAAAAACs/8BjxgnRtZoQ/s320/IMG_2993.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>We boarded on time, but departure was delayed both at the gate, then on the runway because the usual problem of the large number of flights leaving at the same time, mostly international. Once in the air the dinner was served almost immediately #4 & #5 but the drink carts arrived later. Gone are the days of elegant travel in coach. My seat mate was a pleasant young lady on her way to Paris for 5 days; she would meet a lady-friend from LA at the arrival area in the terminal. <br />
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Thursday, September 23, 2010 We arrived exactly on time – whatever that was – and for once the wheel chair ordered was waiting for us. Bravo for Continental Airlines! The pusher set out at almost a dead run and I had trouble keeping up. However we arrived at Terminal 1, the old one, that is built like a mushroom with satellites around it, and distances are not as great as they are in the new Terminal 2 where it is at least a kilometer or two to arrival formalities and the luggage arrival space. Our suitcases were not the first off but they both arrived, that already is wonderful. <br />
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The advantage of the wheel chair for Colette is she is taken on priority basis through all the formalities and there is no standing in line, just like the flight crew. Same for a taxi, we go to the head of the line, so we were loaded into a car and off we went.<br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Friday, September 24, 2010. It was an exciting day filled with cleaning the apartment, getting my cell phone operating, making a futile trip to the library to try to find something not to improving to mind to read. The library here is modern, well equipped and serious. While I was in the library Colette went for a short walk to get a carry out at the Marché des Enfants Rouges, couscous with chicken and merguez (Algerian-type sausages made with lamb and spices but no pork). While we are here we enjoy take- out dinners from Picards – a chain selling only frozen foods and wonderful dinners (<a href="http://www.picard.com/">http://www.picard.com/</a>), or several different Vietnamese or Chinese restaurants.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">While we have several restaurants in our immediate neighborhood, including the famous L’Ami Louis, they are expensive and dinner is served late.</div><br />
Saturday, September 25, 2010. The Gardens of Les Halles. <br />
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I had picked up a copy of Colette’s preferred magazine, Antiquités et Brocantes that includes a list of brocantes (street sales/flea markets/second hand stuff) and she had identified one taking place in the garden of the Forum near St. Eustache.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Psk4Qo5ShGA/TmOI8aYhzgI/AAAAAAAAAC4/CI5C-lF4MhE/s1600/IMG_2995.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Psk4Qo5ShGA/TmOI8aYhzgI/AAAAAAAAAC4/CI5C-lF4MhE/s320/IMG_2995.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>By 10 ag. we were leaving the apartment, taking a right onto rue Volta to the bus stop on rue Turbigo where we hoped we could take our favorite bus #75 to Pont-Neuf; we debarked on the rue de Rivoli and trekked into the area behind the Pompidou Museum of Modern Art, past the (1 & 2) fountain of the Innocents (1549, destroyed and rebuilt in 1786), and along the Forum des Halles.<br />
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-byhh__nEZHA/TmOJEAWAUjI/AAAAAAAAADU/Wc1EU3fVwuA/s1600/IMG_3003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-byhh__nEZHA/TmOJEAWAUjI/AAAAAAAAADU/Wc1EU3fVwuA/s320/IMG_3003.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
Turn to the left toward the (3) church of Saint-Eustache (1532-1630) and there was the sidewalk market. #4 The ubiquités merry-go-round, and another picture of Saint-Eustache #5. The market was crowded with people shopping for winter clothes #6 & # 7. #8 Colette examining carefully everything for sale on a table. # 9 & 10, more tables of things to admire.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-T5fX69hLCik/TmOJERUhOQI/AAAAAAAAADY/XUZv6XB36WE/s1600/IMG_3004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-T5fX69hLCik/TmOJERUhOQI/AAAAAAAAADY/XUZv6XB36WE/s320/IMG_3004.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>#11 In the plaza next to the church is one of many favorite sculptures in Paris, the very large head and hand by Henri de Miller “listening to the heartbeat of Paris.” It usually is engulfed in little children climbing in and around it while being photographed by loving parents.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nNNVIoBBjZg/TmOJKSIfTtI/AAAAAAAAAD0/FbfWOoTlqkE/s1600/IMG_3010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nNNVIoBBjZg/TmOJKSIfTtI/AAAAAAAAAD0/FbfWOoTlqkE/s320/IMG_3010.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>I caught Colette looking for treasures #13 -#15. At another table watches and jewelry #16 - 17 were for sale including a working Gucci watch for Euro 100 that I did not buy. It was almost lunch time and Colette was tired. We were more or less one Metro station away from Art & Métiers so we continue slowly. At Art & Métiers Colette turned left on rue Vaucanson, past Ecole Centrale where Colette’s father completed his engineering degree toward our building. <br />
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I turned right on rue Beaubourg, admired briefly the twin towers of Notre Dame de Paris against the blue sky in the distance and walked the two short blocks to rue de Gravilliers where I turned left and walked the few steps to a little boulangerie and patisserie to buy bread and croissants for the weekend and admire the pastries, # 18 -22. I walked back to Arts & Métiers, took a snap of the Musée des Arts & Métiers and the statue Harmoni by Volti.<br />
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September 26, 2010, Marché Aligre<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nZSWk4SpRxo/TmOJbj7UiYI/AAAAAAAAAEU/dwgOa4bJI74/s1600/IMG_3022.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nZSWk4SpRxo/TmOJbj7UiYI/AAAAAAAAAEU/dwgOa4bJI74/s320/IMG_3022.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H8iTTIZkjHM/TmOJqCaREnI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/_x6lqVQNdLY/s1600/IMG_3039.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H8iTTIZkjHM/TmOJqCaREnI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/_x6lqVQNdLY/s320/IMG_3039.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>One of our favorite places and practically an “every Sunday morning” routine. From our apartment we walk the length of ND de Nazareth to rue du Temple, take our lives in our hands and cross that busy street, with the walk signal, then turn left and up the half of block to the Place de la République and the Metro station. There are five lines served here, and we take direction Crétail to Ledru-Rollin where we surface then walk the short distance to the Square Trousseau, turn right and then to the left down rue Thomas Boussel to the Place d’Aligre and the wonderful market. The covered market was originally built in 1779. The market of the Place d’Aligre is open to the sky, and is covered with tables where the merchants display jewelry, silver, African masks, shoe, book and everything imaginable in addition to the row of vegetables and flowers. The outdoor market flows up the streets leading to the Place. The covered market has been through several reconstructions and the present one was probably built sometime in the late 19th century with wonderful wrought iron construction. The pictures include outdoor and indoor stalls. The last several pictures are of my bistro where I sit and sip a glass of white wine (Euro 3). <br />
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September 27, 2010, Monday, brocantes les Halles <br />
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Should read Courtyard of our building with mysterious problems to our 150 plus year’s old pluming. The back-up was in building B, and happily we live in building A!<br />
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September 27, 2010, Monday, rue de Bretagne, Irene Fogarty and Nourredin. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-o9gg9xCF330/TmOJ93YLiwI/AAAAAAAAAFg/a7WtbWaBfAg/s1600/IMG_3057.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-o9gg9xCF330/TmOJ93YLiwI/AAAAAAAAAFg/a7WtbWaBfAg/s320/IMG_3057.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Yet another picture of Harmonie by Volti against a dark sky. Rue de Bretagne is our commercial and market street and it is pleasure to walk along it looking at the open shops of vegetables, fruits, meats and, of course, the market of the infants rouges (red children). As I crossed rue Chariot up popped my friend Irene. She and Nourreddine had watched me coming I was very surprised. Monday and Irene had the day off and they were sitting in a café drinking coffee when I arrived. We switched to wine and had a welcomed chat. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>The last three pictures are of the building where Colette’s brother-in-law lives, and two interior pictures Jean Curtil and his living room...<br />
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September 28, 2010, Tuesday, Ile de la Cité, St. Michel, Rive Gauche<br />
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Place St. Michel. By foot, on an almost chilly day, overcast, from the Place Dauphine past the Palace of Justice, along the Quai des Orfèvres to the Bridge, Pont St. Michel, to the Place St. Michel. The Quai des Orfèvres, formerly the street of jewelry makers (orfevriers), now the home of the police of the City of Paris (remember your Simenon), and believe the street is filled with neatly parked police vans.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ISEe-Y14Yuk/TmOKa7O98KI/AAAAAAAAAGw/D8QcMSV1nxA/s1600/IMG_3090.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ISEe-Y14Yuk/TmOKa7O98KI/AAAAAAAAAGw/D8QcMSV1nxA/s320/IMG_3090.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>The Place St. Michel is a bit too much in its décor. It was one of the places where the French resistance had a running street battle with the German during the last days of the occupation, as the allies, mostly American troops, were marching on Paris. Here and there, here and throughout the city, there are engraved, marble plaques with the name of resistance fighters who fell. During the late spring flowers are left beneath the plaques.<br />
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119, Quai Saint-Michel, a number of impressionist painter lived here. The plaque over the door has been removed. I’ll check my notes for several years ago and send a correction. They include Jean Launois (cousin of Colette’s father, and we having some of his early drawings), Corot, Albert Marquet, Matisse, among others.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>A view of Notre Dame de Paris from Quai St. Michel.<br />
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Rue du Chat qui Peche, reportedly the shortest and narrowest street in Paris, made famous by Hemingway.<br />
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Sandwiches, very good price, on the left bank, known for student hangouts and eccentricities, you are never far from food. There are some pretty crummy shops, souvenir emporiums as well as the Cluny Museum (don’t miss the Unicorn Tapestries!).<br />
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Treasures, Saint-Eustache les Halles brocantes.<br />
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Small teapot, Euro 1.<br />
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Small coffee pot, turn-of-the-century (1900), café service, Euro 2.<br />
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Japanese, small pitcher, export ware, small pitcher, early 20th c, Euro 3.<br />
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Small vase, export ware, early 20th c, Euro 1.<br />
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French, crochet-needle holder, decal ‘view Arromanche,” souvenir ware, early 20th c. The Association for abandoned cats at Saint-Eustache sold this. If you want more detail I’ll find the web site. Euro 12.<br />
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Japanese covered box, round, recent, Euro 1<br />
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Bird (ivory or bird) inside polished nut, Euro 1.<br />
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Japanese bowl, peasant ware, 17th or 18th c, Euro 5.<br />
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September 28, 2010, from our apartment on rue de N.D. de Nazareth, turn right onto rue Volta and walk straight ahead, cross the little triangular all cement park to the glass shelter for the bus stop on rue Turbigo. The neat thing about learning to use the bus system in Paris (unhappily, no transfers from line-to-line) is the covered, glass protected bus stops have maps, timetables, and an electronic screen. The electronic screen tells you when the next bus arrives. If there is more than one line using the stop, the screen rotates showing the line number and the next busses arrival time. The number 75 takes me to the end of the line to the Quai des Messageries on the Seine. Then it is a short walk to the Pont Neuf. The Pont Neuf is the oldest bridge in Paris; construction began in 1578 and was completed in 1606 during the reign of Henri III.<br />
1. Pont Neuf to Ile de la Cité, and to the Left Bank.<br />
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2. Le Vert Galant, a historic landmark of early Paris where, among other happenings, was a favorite place for amorous meetings.<br />
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3. Road leading into the Place Dauphine,<br />
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4. Restaurant Le Caveau du Palais facing the Place, is distinguished by the elegance of its location, across the little Place from the Palace of Justice and clientele which includes, among others, my colleague from FM, Bill Whitaker.<br />
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5. Patrons with a large, fuzzy dog on the terrace of Le Caveau.<br />
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and 6. View from the terrace of Le Caveau. September 28, 2010, continued<br />
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St. Michel to the Bridge of Love, actual – September 28, 2010, continued<br />
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Oldest tree in Paris, planted 1602, if have details if you want them. This is a charming little garden next to one of the oldest churches in Paris, St. Julien the Poor. It is now an Eastern Orthodox Church and on Sundays and High Holidays the services are splendid, the cassocks and head coverings (I would not call them hats!) are splendid and the voices and music are extraordinary.<br />
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Bouquinistes. This tradition goes back several hundreds of years. Until recently these were places for serious students of whatever went to look for books, old, damaged and occasionally valuable. Colette says her father spent hours going through the collections, one by one. Now many of them sell soft porn, tourist stuff, and a few have good collections, but bargains are hard to find. The other day I did find a book by an author I collect, Francis Carco, first edition, for Euro 30.<br />
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The bridge across the Seine to the garden adjoining Notre Dame of Paris – The Garden of Pope Jean Paul XXXIII, The Bridge of the Archeveche (sp?) but now a Bridge of Love. This is one of two bridges that I know of those lovers of all ages and sexes tie ribbons or lock padlocks with inked in or engraved in names to memorialize their love. The City of Paris is not happy about it. The other bridge is a pedestrian one - the Bridge of Arts - from the left bank to The Louvre.<br />
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4, 5, & 6. A Japanese bride, apparently trying to call a taxi but, in fact, trying to cross the street. Her new husband is behind her. In the last picture she smiled just for me. Note the little crown tiara that has slipped to one side.<br />
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Septembre 29, 2010, Place de la Bastille and Place des Vosges<br />
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Motorized two-wheel vehicles compete with manually operated bicycles and automobiles in Paris. There is a motorcycle/bicycle parking lot under our bedroom window and the red job is exactly what I want for Christmas but Colette won’t let me have even a manually-operated model. Note the roof! It also has curtains. Neat!<br />
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This our street, rue de Notre Dame de Nazareth, abbreviated in the telephone book as rue de N.D. de Nazareth. Our neighborhood is a mixture of Jewish and Arab, and apparently they get along fine. They are mostly wholesalers of clothes of all sorts and in this picture the boxes are being loaded into a truck, and traffic is backed up all the way to rue du Temple. In theory it is illegal to use horns in Paris but believe they do as these roadblocks can last for 15 to 20 minutes and occasionally longer. We have never seen a policeman except on Jewish Holidays when all traffic is the street is closed to traffic because one of the major synagogues of Paris is just a few steps from this picture.<br />
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I took the city bus #20 to go to the Bastille and a class of very small children, under the firm control of two teachers who looked barely a few years older than their charges. The little students did not peep, squeak or giggle.<br />
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The Bastille Opera, built about 15 plus years ago, is simply enormous. We heard Renée Fleming sing Manon here. She was wonderful; the house was wonderful and enormous. The building covers more than a full block. My only tie to opera in Paris is my ENT physician who is the ENT for the operas of Paris. He has a keyboard in his office which is furnished in antiques. I was able to get an appointment on the same day that my GP asked for it. No sanitary white for him! My consultation costs about $100. It took 6 weeks to get an appointment at UNC!<br />
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As we enter Fall Paris becomes gray, and in fact boasts of having more rainfall than London. It certainly is dark, the sky lightening only after 7 a.m. So if this picture is dark I could not wait for a sunny day, as it is highly improbably we will have one anytime soon. In any case I was standing on the Place de la Bastille overlooking the Arsenal. Notice all the nifty boats of all sizes. The apartments overlooking the Arsenal is not where the Section 8 of Paris live, believe me. Twice a year there is a major brocante sale (antiques, and everything else you might imagine) set up on the Place as well as on both sides of the canal. This is the beginning of the Canal of St. Martin. There are excursion boats that make the trip to the Parc de Villette and back. The tunnel is under the Place and then opens to the sky. The neighborhood along the canal has only recently become fashionable, but the canal itself is beautiful.<br />
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Last is the Bastille memorial. There may be an elevator in it. Colette’s parent’s apartment, where she lived until we married, is about two long blocks from the Place de la Bastille<br />
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September 29, 2010, I fear this is repetitious but my trusty HP Laptop hides things from me that I know I have written and sent so please forgive me.<br />
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From the Place de la Bastille to the Rue St. Antoine is but a step but, to the right, is an almost invisible little triangle. The street may be rue de Bastille, but it is so small and short it is unnamed in the Paris Pratique (buy one) or the map the hotels give you. However, if you look closely you will see a patisserie or, to be more accurate, a viennoiserie, Le Notre. Among other goodies it has to offer include instant luncheons that you will need if you want to picnic in the Place des Vosges.<br />
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Enlarge the picture, look at the cakes! These are not the all hollow blobs of airs that you find in Harris Teeter but closer to pound cakes with eggs, sugar, real vanilla or chocolate. And look closely at the tarte covered with fruit and, two cakes behind it, the chocolate crown. While not made with silver and gold, you may want to take with you some gold leaf because they are worth their weight in it. Well, not really.<br />
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Back on rue St. Antoine and to the left is the church of St. Paul St Louis, the second oldest church in the baroque style in Paris and modeled after the Church of Gesu in Rome. It was completed in 1692 and only recently the exterior has been cleaned and the original color of the stone can be seen.<br />
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You are now looking for rue Birague and when you find it turn right and at the end of the street you will be seeing a wonderful three-story building in muted tones of red, the Pavillion du Roi, the King’s Pavilion, the entry into the Place des Vosges, but don’t walk too fast, because there are interesting little shops, restaurant, green grocers and a two-star hotel (not expensive).<br />
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The statue of Louis XIII in the center of the Place des Vosges, surrounded by trees, and if the light is right – as it was not on the day I took this picture – it glorifies Louis III.<br />
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The Pavillion de la Reine, The Queen’s Pavilion is on the north side of the square and now you can enjoy the wonderful symmetry of the Place des Vosges. I suggest you buy a house there. There are restaurants, lots of galleries and shops, off the arcade around all four side of the Place. The Place des Vosges is a wonderful place for a picnic, with a bottle of wine, sitting on benches in the shades of the well-manicured trees.<br />
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Let’s do it. And last but not least,<br />
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Picture of a bicycle rack. Every time I mention using them Colette has a fit. You see these racks all over Paris, you use your credit car (actually more difficult than that!), hop on a bicycle, and away you go. When you find your destination, there is supposed to be another rack within 100 meters (if I have my numbers correctly), you park and away you go. You can tell the rental bicycles as they all have front and rear lights, and are wonderfully maintained in spite of the usual juveniles who disrupt the world we live in. <br />
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October 1, 2010, Brocantes, Blvd. St. Martin, 75003 Paris<br />
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Brocante, in French, translates into English as “flea market” or “second-hand market” according to dictionaries on line. It really is more of a street fair, or side-walk faire to be more accurate and there is one or two, every week-end, someplace in Paris. I find it amazing that the professionals sellers who populate these markets unpack and repack every day that they are working. Some of them, like the rug people, are well recognized professionals who probably have shops. Others, the furniture people, also. The others, however, do this full time and travel throughout France to participate. The two magazines that Colette purchases each have several pages listing the brocante dates and sites.<br />
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Colette, as a serious collector of luster ware, or luster ware, and antique oriental pieces, tries not to miss an opportunity to enlarge her collection. It now occupies most of the shelf space in her sitting room in Chapel Hill in addition to boxes and large paper bags courtesy of Whole Foods filled with carefully wrapped items.<br />
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Passage du Pont aux Biches provides a pedestrian connection from rue de Notre Dame de Nazareth to rue Meslay (pronounced Maylay), and was open on October 18, 1881. It consists of 46 steps (count them) that leaves all but the youngest a little breathless. A Wallace Fountain, one of more than 50 throughout Paris, is a landmark also. # 1 The Wallace fountains were a gift of Sir Robert Wallace in 1871 after the Siege of Paris. Look at Google for more. The Passage from our street to rue Meslay then another passage from rue Meslay to Blvd. St. Martin is a short-cut to/from the bus from the Gare du Lyon or to the opera, the center of Paris.<br />
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The brocante on Blvd. St. Martin was not the biggest but was satisfactory. # 2 The rug stand, one of several, was very well done.<br />
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# 3 Silver, just the place to buy what you need.<br />
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# 4 Colette finds a treasure, a little Chinese saucer, possibly XVIII c.<br />
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# 5 Furniture some good, some indifferent.<br />
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# 6 African Masks<br />
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# 7 Need a winter coat?<br />
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# 8 Trinkets<br />
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# 9 Colette<br />
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# 10 Dinner service, vase<br />
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# 11 Necklaces<br />
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# 12 Newspaper and magazine kiosque, you see them all over Paris.<br />
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#13 Antiques! This stand was on the corner of Place de la République and Rue du Temple, a very busy intersection.<br />
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# 14 Sauerkraut purchased ready to eat except for the hot dog. <br />
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October 2, 2010, Saturday<br />
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#1 Manifestation in the Place de la République by the unions protesting the raising of the retirement age from 60 to 62. In Germany, England and other European countries the retirement age is usually 65 years or older. Nicolas Sakozy was elected with a 65%+ majority yet the protest was supported by 65% of the population according to opinion samples. The statue is of Marianne, the symbol of France.<br />
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#2 An important part of manifestations is food, hot the grill. There are merguez, all lamb and North African spices made of lamb and hot dogs as well. There was probably a large metal casserole filled with paella and sometimes another with sauerkraut.<br />
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#3 Note the table top grill with merguez, hot dogs, green and yellow peppers!<br />
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#4 The crowd starts to move forward. The only thing missing is a marching band, but there are participants with loud speakers exhaulting the participants to stand up for their rights.<br />
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#5 The crowd is big on balloons, of all sizes.<br />
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ne of them any advantages of living near the Placde de la Républi. que is there are 5 major Métro lines here. I take Balard line across Paris ( major stations include Opera, Madeleine, Concorde, La Tour Mauberg) and get off at Ecole Militaire and walk about a block and I am on the Champs de Mars, the park that crosses from the Ecole Militaire to the Seine and a bridge across the Seine to the Trocadero.<br />
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#6 Ponies for hire!<br />
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#7 The Eiffel Tower on a dark day, with the ubiquitous tourists (American!) admiring it.<br />
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#8 Approaching the base of the Eiffel Tower.<br />
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#9 The ticket line for the Eiffel Tower, a 45 minute wait this particular afternoon.<br />
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#10 The intersection of Quai Banly and the Pont d’Iéna facing the Trocadero.<br />
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#11 The Merry-Go-Round on the Eiffel Tower side. There are many in Paris including the Place de la République and the Hotel de Ville. The one at the Hotel de Ville has two levels.<br />
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#12 A bride and groom crossing the bridge. As they passedme the groom was saying “we are crossing the bridge.” Pretty exciting. I cannot imagine where they were going on foot. A civil marriage normally precedes the religious ceremony, and usually in the morning.<br />
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#13 Same bride and groom.<br />
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#14 The Palace of the Trocadero overlooks the Seine and the Eiffel Tower. The walk/climb up is easy until the very last. I usually go in the opposite direction from the Trocadero to the Eiffel Tower because it is all downhill!<br />
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#15 Closer to the Trocadero.<br />
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#16 The Eiffel Tower from the Trocadero. <br />
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#17 The esplanade of the Trocadero was, as usual, crowded with tourists and souvenir sellers, break dancers and various and sundry other attractions, mostly annoying.<br />
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#18 Down the stairs to the Métro while others are coming up !<br />
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#19 A souvenir shop in the Metro Station. The owner was not happy that I took this picture! The Metro stations often include shops and snack bars, musicians and sellers of various fruits and bottled water. If I were not so lazy I would do an analysis of the Chatelait/City Hall/Beaubourg connections reputed to be the busiest rail station in Europe and with an extraordinary variety of commerce. Hower, the connecting walks are long and one of them even has a people mover.<br />
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#20 A photo of me taken by the mother and daughter sitting across from me. <br />
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#21,22 The mother and daughter, we developed nodding acquaintances as a young man, drunk out of his mind, had collapsed into the seat next to me. <br />
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October 3, 2010, Magny-le-Hongre, Sunday in the country!<br />
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Colette and I took the Metro to the other side of the Seine where her brother-in-law lives so we could join him for a drive into the country. Our destination was Magny-le-Hongre about 45 minutes north. When Colette’s niece, Anne, and her husband, Jean-Paul purchased their house it was, for all intents and purposes, a village that had been forgotten. They bought their house, or rather two houses, from a antique dealer who wanted a more active life. The houses, typical farmers’ house, two stories, fireplace, kitchen, rudimentary bathroom and toilette (separated) with a door knocked through the separating wall. By the time they finished renovating the fireplace had been enlarged and opened to bth the living and dining room<br />
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Jean-Paul, an Air France captain, had time on his hands between international flights, became a politician and got himself elected mayor.<br />
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We were visiting them in March of 1985 when to our amazement Disney announced it was going to build its European theme park nearby. Jean-Paul began an energetic program to develop Magny-le-Hongre into a Disney world support center, to coin a term.<br />
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Now their three sons are young men, two with wives and one child each, still living in Magny-le-Hongre. Antoine, the oldest, is in real estate. This last year, with the help of a bank and, we suspect, his grandfather, he bought a free standing farm house that was all but abandoned, stripped the interior and began rebuilding it. Today would be our first visit to it.<br />
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#1 the house from the street. It is a duplex and the side nearest the camera is rented, is much smaller.<br />
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#2 & 3, second floor overlooking dining area,<br />
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#4, third floor master bedroom, bathroom on second,<br />
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#5, Dining area seen from living area, kitchen to the right.6, Ella, Colette’s grandniece, one of a pair of identical twins, left the following day for to spend two months in India and to learn yoga and to meditate. <br />
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October 4, 2010, Colette and another owner.<br />
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The previous Friday, at 6 p.m., there was the semi-annual meeting of the condo association, in French, the (translated) the co-owners and the management company. The presiding person was a young lady who looked like she was in her very early 20’s but, as the meeting progressed, it was obvious that she knew what she was about. The issues under discussion included repairs to the septic system that is probably 150 or more years old. The cemented courtyard will have to be evacuated and all sorts of interesting things done at a cost approaching Euros 100,000 (or perhaps more!). The thorny issue of parking in the courtyard was again raised and no satisfactory result achieved. This is a difficult problem as the owner of the parking does not enforce it and the renters of commercial space who use it offer it to friends. It is a constant irritant. But, on October 1st Colette and I attended the semi-annual meeting of the management company that that provides essential services to the building in which we live. Keeping in mind we do not know how old it is, someplace between one and two hundred years, its maintenance is needed but not always delivered. While I am sure there are any numbers of condo that are simply delighted with the services provided by their respective management companies, I have yet to meet anyone who owns and lives in a condo who is delighted with the cheerfulness with which the condo management personnel listen to complaints.<br />
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The same is true here, of course. The meeting started on time and the young person who conducted it was obviously professionally trained and experienced. The owners were, with some exception, not overwhelmed by her responses to our inquiries. And, guess what, the major topics were parking (there is none but!) and plumbing.<br />
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Parking. Our neighbor and friend, Ricardo (Argentian, a pal of ms. Sarkozy for whom he directors photograph) complained about the three carfs usually parked in the court yard during weekdays when there are, in fact, only two. A little, white-haired lady with an outthrust lower jaw said sweetly to Ricardo, “I’ve told you to write me a note about this problem.”<br />
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Ricardo replied in his heavily accented French, what would you do? Why do we have to write you notes. The discussion would have become more active but the chairperson put a stop to it but not before Colette and others had spoken to the issue. Then the next issue was why someone was parking during the week-end when it was not authorized!<br />
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Nothing was settled. The next issue was plumbing, always a thrilling subject to any property owner. Keep in mind that this building was plumbed long after it was completed. When running water was added (as in NYC in the 19th C) it was added by a pipe and fawcet on each landing. Then more serious plumbing was added but pipes on the outside, run through the walls, and along walls and, in the case of bathrooms and toilets, always separated in France, the pipes were laid on the then floor and covered with about a four inch layer of concret. Incidentally makes getting in and out of a shower-equipped bathtub challenging.<br />
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We learned during this meeting about Euro 100,000 (about US$ 140,000) at current rate of exchange would have tobe borrowed to modernize the plumbing under the courtyard. This announcement was not received with joyous cheers.<br />
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This introduces the issue can we sell the apartment if we want. Of course,but how much would we realize before and after. Currently on the Paris market it is pretty inexpensive, about Euro 300,000 (x $1.40 for US). However whatabout the plumbing?<br />
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The next issue is how do you determine the value? This is tricky as sale prices of residential property is confidential and most people use an average number prepared by the Nortary Association of Paris. In France a notary is a kind of lawyer who manages property, investments and through whom real estate is bought and sold. There is almost no way of doing a CMA except by sophisticated guessing.<br />
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Another problem is listing and selling property. There is no such thing as a multiple listing process, and each listingcompany guards its listings jealously.<br />
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October 4, 2010, Monday, The Sacré Coeur.<br />
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#6,7 Bleached out by the sun#, the Sacré Coeur is at the top of the hill. #8,9 The funicular to the top of the hill, one goes up and one comes down. #10 The Sacré Coeur seen from the road above the funicular. #11 My visit to the Sacré Coeur coincided with the fall wine festival, so after I took a picture of the Wallace Fountain # 12, the following pictures #13, 14, 15, 16, 17 were of stands where the producers were present and, in a few cases, offered samples. #18 a producer selling foie gras de canard (foie gras of duck), rilletes, and other goodies, heating some up for tasting. Rillettes I don’t sample.<br />
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#19, 20, 21 Cheese, 22 wine, 23 james jellies andchutnies, 24 champagne, 25 the fair and the Sacré Coeur, 26 the basalique another view, 27 oysters, 28 cakes and things, 29 foie gras and wine! 30 charcuterie (sausages etc.) of various kinds and shapes, 31 I don’t know what this is, but is mostly potatoes and the basin behind is filled with margues, 32 marguez, 33 more charcuterie.<br />
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#34 now we are moving toward the Place du Terte. Artists selling their skills to do rapid portrains; #35 copper cook ware for sale, #36 the Place du Tertre, if it is crowded in early October imagne what it must be like during the summer tourist season.<br />
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October 9, 2010, Brocante<br />
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#1, book seller, #2 Colette has found something and is bargaining, #3 rugs, #4 flowers, Paris must have more flower shops per square mile than any other city in Europe or the US, #5 more flowers, #6 Colette perhaps she has found something, #7 more treasures, #8 Place de la République and Marianne, the symbol of France. This is the Place where many of themes manifestations begin and end. <br />
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October 10, 2010. Square du Temple<br />
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If you come out of our building, through the little door set inside the carriage doors, walk a few steps pas the bistor on the corner, turn right on rue Volta, cross the street than look back,#1 & 2, is what you see. It is where a form 18th or early 19th century apartment building was razed and, hopefully will be replaced as prmised by a “social building” or low-income apartments. The scaffolding is, obviously, to hold up the buildings on either side. The building behind is building B of our apartment and, happily, we are in building A. Our friend Ricardo lives on top of this building B and when the older building was being dismantled his apartment was damaged and his roof leaks and his walls are cracked. That was several years ago and he is still waiting for the townhall of the 3rd arrondissement and the coop. to work out responsibility.<br />
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#3 & 4, the corner building in which the Argentinian steak restaurant (expensive) is located. #5 T, The front of the same building that has been reconstructed and next to it, on left, L’Ami Louis, also a well-known, expensive restaurant. The former president of France, Chirac, brought Bill and Hilary here for dinner one evening and the whole neighborhood was sealed off to everyone’s annoyance.<br />
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#6 The Square du Temple, #7 The statue of Charles Beranger, an 18th century satirist overlooking the Square. #8 This is our nearest park on the site of the former Donjon (tower) of the Square where Louis XVI and Marie-Antoinette and their children and servants were held captive until Louis XVI was sent tof the guillotine and Marie-Antoinette was separated for Louis XVII and sent to theConciergerie where she was held prisoner until she, too, was guillotined. The fate of Louis XVII is still debated #anddiscussed. He did not survive, that we know.<br />
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#9 The main entrance of the town hall of our arrondissement. The street has been blocked off and is reserved for play space for thenearby elementary school. #10 & 11 The children’s sandbox, always active. <br />
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October 12, 2010, rue Volta<br />
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Sorry, mislabeled as the rue Volta. # 1This is, in effect, the corner of rue de Bretagne and the cross street rue Charlot, I think. #2,3, & 4. I went to the library to return books, read dmagazines, and take out something for the week-end and found it closed. The evening before the motorcycle and automobile parked in front of it had been torched, and had set fire to the little apartment building to the left of the new condo building in which the basement and first floor of our library was located, now badly damaged by smoke and some water. The little apartment building was completely burnt out from the ground up. <br />
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October 13, 2010, Hotel de Ville to Place de la Bastille<br />
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From our building, turn right on rue Volta, walk two blocks, across the little square to the bus stop that is a glass shelter. On the interior a bench, and on thewall a map showing the bus routes and above that an analog display showing the bus’s destination, the Pont Neuf, and the arrival time of the next bus. Nifty! The #75 follows rue Turbigo for about two blocks at at the intersection at Arts & Metiers, turns left on rue Beauboug, passes the Musée Beaubourg and turns right on the rueRivoli where I got off tobegin my jaunt. # 1, 2 & 3 Is the Hotel de Ville, formerly on theSquare des Grèves, where, before and during the Revolution, was the site of public executions, well attended by the public. The funny semi tower behind to the left is the corner of the Bazar de l’Hotel de Ville, one of Paris’s department stores. The current Hotel de Ville is bilt over the former Hotel de Ville that was burned down by the 1871 Commune. The interior is splendid and go to its website, ‘Hotel de Ville de Paris” for pictures.<br />
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#4, 5 & 6 The rear of the church of St. Gervais. This is a charming anddelightful neighborhood in the 4th arrondissement. I was looking for the own hall of the 4th arrondissement as our library in the 3rd was closed because of a fire, and borrowers were requested to return books to the library of the 4th. #7 an apartment building standing all alone with a very attractive restaurant on the ground floor.<br />
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#8 & 9 The square in front of the town hall of the 4th arrondissement, on Wednesdays and Saturday an kopen market. As usual the food was very attractive. The International Lion’s Club sponsored a free diagnostic eye clinic principally to identify cases of Aging Macular Degeneration (AMD) the common cause of blindness in persons after 60 years old (ask me about it!).<br />
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#10 & 11, the courtyard of the town hall.<br />
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October 14, 2010, Les Invalides, the Tomb of Napoleon <br />
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I took the Metro to the tomb of Napoleon and it seemed ok but a bit more crowded at 3 p.m. than it would be normally. I got off at La Tour Mauberg (the stop for Colette’s b-in-l’s apartment. The weather has been splendid! Cool, almost cold at night and wonderful in the middle of the day, a coat and scarf welcomed, and a bright blue sky. The walk around the Invalides was pleasant and the view over the park to the Alexander III bridge to the Concorde was wonderful.<br />
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I walked through the Invalides, bought a ticket for E 9 (12 US) for the tomb.<br />
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Les Invalides (The Invalids) was built by Napoleon as a hospital, convalescent center, and home for the aged and infirmed soldiers about 1812, long before the US did much for its soldiers. It is still used as such.<br />
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The tomb of Napoleon, The Dome of Napoleon, semi-gothic, I guess and the dome is highlighted in gold. The interior is impressive with a space under the dome and Napoleon’s tomb is a great piece of dark red marble. In order to see it you have to lean over the solid railings (handy for taking pictures), thus bowing to the great man.<br />
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A double marble staircase takes you downstairs to an eye level view. It was a little crowded today, I actually saw and heard some French tourists scattered among what sounds like maybe Russians.<br />
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The walk from The Dome across a vast space covered by gravel (no place for high heels) to rue de Tourville, I think, then a 15 minute walk to Ecole Militaire and a Metro Stop. As I walked I watched an orderly crowd, a large crowd for an American, small for France, crossing the great intersection. I met them as I was about to go down the steps to the Metro station and, as one, they followed me. When the train did arrive in a moment it was packed, not as tightly as the subway in Rome that I have experienced. It was all very intimate, being pressed by so many ve girls and an occasional young male.<br />
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Many of them got off at the Concorde so it was a little easier.<br />
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Saturday, October 16, 2010, Manifestion/Strikes<br />
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We are happy the weather has turned cooler, and even happier that we had the heating repaired. The downside is, of course, the cloud covering and bit z pieces of rain when you least expect it.<br />
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Over Colette’s objections yesterday afternoon, camera around my neck, cell phone in my pocket, Metro ticket in hand, I walked as briskly as possible up rue Volta to rue Turbigo, turned right, admired my favorite statue, Harmonie, and took the stairs down to the station. We are in the middle of a major strike but the Metro and buses seem to operating, if erratically. A Metro train arrived as I got to the platform and in three stops (République, Goncourt, Bellville) I reached my destination.<br />
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Belleville is what used to be, and Colette maintains still is, the tough part of Paris. Too me it is busy, peopled, and filled with Arab and Oriental shops selling mostly food, raw and cooked, and the prices look substantially lower than our neighborhood. On my list were carpet slippers that are not to be found in a more sophisticated section of town. Most of the non-food shops had rows of baskets on the side walk and I found one filled with slippers. I picked up one, left foot, size 42, and looked for right-foot. As I stood in the light rain looking for the matching right foot, the lady proprietor popped out and explained that the right-foot slippers were kept insight.<br />
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The purchase completed, I continued my downhill walkthrough the light rain, dodging and begging dodged on the busy sidewalk. At an Arab butcher shop (Boucherie Arabe) I purchased two merguez sausages (each about 8” long). These are indigenous to North Africa, contain no pork, and are spicy and good.<br />
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They will contribute to our dinner this evening of couscous (lamb in tomato and spicy sauce served with couscous, North African pasta, looks a little like cream-colored rice).<br />
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One of my favorite walks is along the St. Martin Canal. It was built in 1801 upon the orders of Napoleon 1and is 4.5 kilometers long, and drops by 25 meter from the Ourcq Canal to the Arsenal Basin and the Seine River. It is still in use, and there is a tourist boat that makes the trip. It goes under the Place de la Bastille, the Place de la République and other roads, and about half of its total length is covered. The guide book tells us it is only 2.7 meter deep, but it looks more than that, and looks cold.<br />
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20-25 years ago I tried to convince Colette we should look for an apartment along the canal but it was then considered not a desirable neighborhood. Now it is much sought after and you will see new construction if I am able to get my laptop to send pictures. One of the buildings is about 18 stories high and, in theory, nothing more than 6 – 8 stories is allowed in Paris.<br />
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After a short walk along the canal, and climbed the high, arched pedestrian bridge over it, I was within a block of the Place de la République, and I heard the sound of heavily amplified voiced invoking action of some sort. There was a manifestation against the government’s plan to extend the retirement age by two years. Hopefully you will see the pictures of people, large balloons, but you will not smell the open-air food stands selling grilled meats and merguez for sandwiches. You will also see the City of Paris Clean up squad, street-cleaners and vacuum trucks prepared to follow the strikers on their march from the Place de la République to the Place de la Bastille. The clean up squads were also used to move the demonstrators on their way! Note the nifty uniforms the street sweepers wear, standard garb for all city employees for sanitary work.<br />
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October 17, 2010, Sunday, Couscous and rue de Bretagne<br />
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Monday, October 18, 2010, Construction of Notre Dame of Paris, <br />
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as we now know it, began in AD 1113, 997 years ago. This last Monday was really the first cool to cold day we have had this fall, a bright blue sky, and a light jacket and scarf were welcomed but there were hardier souls in t-shirts!<br />
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I took the Metro from the Arts & Metiers station, close to our apartment, with stops at Rambuteau, Hotel de Ville, Chatelait and viola Ile de la Cite. This is one of the deepest metro stations and you can see the inner walls of the steel caisson, 20 meters deep (FYI the deepest is Abbesse in Montmartre, 36 m.). Happily there is an elevator for the ride up. This station was opened in 1910 and it is an original art nouveau station (#1). You come up into the flower market of the Ile de la Cite, and if you have time, it is well worth the visit particularly if you like orchids. Also visible is the Sainte Chapelle (see the steeple?). Behind the high steel fence, well decorate, is the Police Headquarters. (#2). (#3) Notre Dame, (#3) the Nave, (#4). Tthe rose window on the north side dates from the 13th C. My little digital camera could not cope with the colors (#5), the altar (#6), and the charming statue of the Virgin and child, 14th C (#7). I am always pleased to find the model of how ND was built (#8) as it is moved here and there. And last is a view of ND seen from the Pont du Double from the Pavis (Place) de ND to the left bank. While the picture gives the impression of serenity, the break dancers - not young – and their very loud music were not an addition! Thursday, Oct. 15, 2010<br />
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The strike has not affected us so much. For the commuters it is unpleasant but trains and buses are working but on a reduced schedule so a lot of people get up earlier in the morning to start for Paris. I have seen no reports on traffic, strangely enough, but I am sure it is difficult normally so it must be worse now. Delays are measured in kilometers!<br />
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Good news on keeping warm. Last year, and again this year, but only for the first three weeks, complained about the heat and now, suddenly it has turned brisk if not cold. An apartment with walls as thick as hour, more than a foot, cools off slowly, but once cooled, stays cooled. 2 or 3 days after our arrival Colette went to see the lady who has a maintenance business who, for the 10-12 years, has been our resource for maintenance, had sold out. She left her name with a man sitting at a desk and asked him to call her when he could come over. She telephoned several days later to remind them of her request to send someone over to look at our non-operating heat system. No word for more than a week so I went by and found 3 very stylishly dressed men (open collars, sweaters) looking a laptops on their desk, and gave them, I explained, for the third time, the information. No one knew anything about it, but notes were made, and promises reiterated. Subsequently no more action. Then yesterday Colette was walking home along rue de N.D.de Nazareth (not a very exciting street except between us and rue Turbigo) and saw a sign advertising an electrician. She stuck her head in the door and was greeted courteously. She explained the situation, given a telephone number to call, and promised help would be returned. She called, and talked to a person who promised to call back this morning.<br />
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He did. At 9:15 the telephone rang and I answered, and I spoke with a man whose French was rapid and not easily understood. Fifteen minutes he was at our door, and turned out to be young, bulky man with a great smile and a pleasant manner and a funny accent to his French. Colette had to disassemble the corner cupboard behind which is hidden the electrical connections, then the young man started working our electric heaters. We though at least one would have to be replaced. It turned out the one in the living room was not set correctly, and the other in the bedroom had some crossed wires that had not caught fire, new fuses were inserted here and there and, for an hour’s work E 30 (US $ 43.40) instead of the anticipated E 400 or more. What a pleasant surprised. Before I left, having listened to his French carefully, I asked him if he was Spanish and he said no, Romanian.<br />
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I wish we could bring him back to Chapel Hill!<br />
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Picture may follow if my laptop will let them.<br />
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Tuesday, October 19, 2010, Overcast, occasionally sunny, from cold to less cold, most museums closed on Tuesdays , so what to do? Colette was feeling up to the challenge of going to downtown Paris. Wrapped up against the cold, we crossed rue de N.D. de Nazareth and took the 46 steps up the Passage aux ponts des biches (passage of deers’ bridge?), crossed rue Meslay (absolutedly the dullest street in Paris), through the Passage Meslay to Blvd. St. Martin where we could take the bus to the Opera and from there walk the two or so blocks to Blvd. Haussmann and the grands magazins, the great department stores. Our objective was the grocery store on the second floor in the second of the block sized buildings of the Galleries Lafayettes. On your next, or your first, trip to Paris don’t miss it.!<br />
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Unhappily the fluorescent lights seem to dull the colors, but never mind.<br />
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Picture No. 1, The Opera which is, for some of us, the center of Paris. From here you can walk to most of your destinations as it is the center of a number of important streets including the rue de La Pay, where you buy jewelry if you have a very productive oil well. Our destination was behind the Opera on blvd. Haussmann.<br />
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Picture No. 2, Street stalls of the Galleries Lafayettes offering wonderful opportunities for example, watches for E 10. There also were stands selling scarves, knitted hats and women’s berets, the funny hats French used to wear and are now favored by the armed forces. Another had what looked like corsets. We hope the young women in these stalls have heaters for it was not warm.<br />
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Once inside, we took the elevator up the 1st floor, and the first thing we see are shelves of foie gras, # 3, the next was mustard , #4, then I found the fish counter and lobsters ready-to-go, #5. There were five or six bars serving food and wine and the platters of fresh sea things was very tempting, # 6. There also was one for cheese, cold meats, oriental hot soups and pastas, you name it and it was there. The pastries were magnificent, #7, and the spread of spices in bulk, #8, and peppers was splendid.<br />
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On the way out there was a coffee stall on the sidewalk also offering soup # 9! And we crossed the street another luxury shop had an outdoor Italian gelato stall # 10.<br />
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This is but a small sample of the wonders of the great market in the Galleries Lafayette. Too bad Harris Teeter can’t do something like it.<br />
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October 20, 2010, Le Palais Royal (The Royal Palace).<br />
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A brilliant, sunny day, so bright my digital camera can’t seem to cope with it, and colors are burnt away.<br />
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I took the Metro from the Place de la Republique to the Opera, where I changed trains. The Opera station is usually clean and bright, the fruit stand (#1) is attractive, but there are stairs up and down to change trains. Unlike New York City each line has its own station so, when you change trains you walk, you climb stairs, you go down stairs. The station in Chatelait is, according to one source, the largest and busiest in Europe and you can walk miles, it seems, and some corridors have people movers to make it easier. Keep in mind that a lot of the Metro stations also have stations for suburban rail lines so stamina is necessary. The Paris Metro is not wheel chair friendly, although the buses are.<br />
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Opera to Palais Royal/The Louvre is quick. All the exits are numbered, and my destination is Place Colette, no. 5, that takes me under rue de Rivoli, and up to daylight. This Metro station is weird, decorated with multicolored glass bulbs that reflect the sunlight but, again, my camera can handle the extremes and I do not know how to correct it. #2<br />
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Place Colette is named after the French novelist who wrote, among many other things, Gigi, and lived in the Palais Royal. During the last years of her life she was crippled with arthritis and confined to a bed, next to a window overlooking the gardens. The Place is also shared with the Comedie Francaise.<br />
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The first courtyard includes regularly spaced columns of different heights designed by the sculpture Daniel Buren, in black and white marble. It is a wonderful opportunity to disagree with those who don’t like and those who do. What is art? #3<br />
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The palace dates from the 17th C. I suggest you look it up on the internet as it has a rich history. It is, according to my count, 4 stories high. The ground floor galleries (#4) provide a covered walk with shops of all sorts as well, as to be expected, restaurants including the Grand Veford, consider one of the gastronomic opportunities of PRIS (fixed menu for lunch, E 88 not including wine). The shops have lofts.<br />
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Sorry, I can’t tell you more about the interior of the upper stories but they do have a splendid view of the manicured ranks of trees (#5) and the central garden. The nymph is part of the décor, and the benches provide resting places for a picnic lunch. (#6). The large fountain is the center of the garden. (#7) The pigeons and sparrows can be fed by hand if you like that sort of thing. Even as cold as it was yesterday in the sun it was pleasant enough to be outdoors.<br />
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The little dog, #8, without a lease, waiting for his owners to complete a purchase in a chic shop. Be sure to admire the mosaic walk.<br />
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Paris is a city of passages. There is an illustrated book about them. We have one across the street from our apartment, with a Wallace fountain and further up, a restaurant, serving only lunch, that has tables on the sidewalk now enclosed by a plastic partition to protect the patrons from the cold. #9 & $10 are pictures taken of the Passage Colbert and Passage Vivienne. Jean-Pierre Gaultier has a shop here, and of course there book stores, interior decorators, restaurants, all under cover. The art students were having an exercise in drawing perspective – I listened surreptitiously to the instructor working with a student.<br />
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#11, Basilica of Notre Dame des Victoires the construction of which was stretched from 1629 to 1740 is the center piece of Place des Victoires and its shops of mode (women’s clothes and some for men). There used to be a restaurant here that we enjoyed where the specialty was stuff, boned little roasted chickens, wonderful!<br />
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#12 Square du Temple, about 3 blocks from where we live. This was the site of the chateau of the Templers, the tower of which served as a prison for Louis XVI and family. It was torn down in the 19th C and became a park. The point of this picture is the apartment building, very nouveau art (in correct French art nouveau), admire the roof line of towers and, bleached out by the sun, the sundial, a fixture on many buildings of that period. I would love to have one of the apartments on one of the higher floors overlooking the Square, and a wonderful view of the roof line of Paris.<br />
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October 1, 2010, The garden of the Tuilleries and Contemporary Art.<br />
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Colette heard an announcement on television that the fall outdoor sculpture show in the Tuilleries was open today. In the past there have been original and sometime funny things, usually in one of the reflecting ponds. One year there was a partially submerged submarine, another time a truck apparently floating on the surface. There was a quick shot of a funny house that Colette wanted to see.<br />
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It is an international art show, and this is the 37th year! It is sponsored by Foire Internationale de l’Art Contemporain (International Fair of Contemnporary Art). Go to <a href="http://www.fica.com/">http://www.fica.com/</a>. It is also showing at the Grand Palace, the enormous glass exhibition hall that was built for one of the Paris international exhibitions late in the 19th C. I am too lazy to stand in line to see that show, but the television coverage has been extensive and some of the art and sculptures are wild!<br />
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For the first time in several years Colette felt like she could face the walk it would involve so we bundled up and off we went. We took the Metro from Republic to Place de la Concorde. The Concorde Metro station always involved walking but eventually we surfaced in front of the Ministry of the Marine.<br />
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Our son, Ian, was in fine arts and painted before he went into architecture. Ian reminds me, when visiting museums, you have to bring something to your viewing. He suggests open mindedness. Presumably the works on exhibition in the garden of Tuilleries and the Grand Palace were chosen by peer competition.<br />
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#1 The Ministry of the Marine, to its right, the Hotel Crillon, highly recommended and can afford one of the best hotels (and most expensive of Paris) and to the right of the Crillon, you can’t see it, is the American Embassy.<br />
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#2, Standing with our back to the Jeu de Palme (the former royal covered tennis court, now reserved for art) and looking over the vast Place de la Concorde. The obelisk is the center of the Concorde and since September 1999 also serves as a sundial. I take the word of The Green Guide of Paris (Le Guide Vert, the best guide I know of and there are many, it is also available in English). The obelisk was the gift of a vice-king of Egypt to France and was erected in 1831. On one side, cared into the marble and highlighted in gold leaf, is an illustration on how it was put into place. In the distance you can see the Eiffel r. The Place de la Concorde is the beginning of the Avenue des Champs- that terminates at the Arc de Triomphe and other on the other side begins the Avenue of the Grande Armée that, in turns, terminates at the Defense where there is the Great Arch (La Grande Arche). I went to the top several years ago and it has a fense is a new, planned urban center and now is the home of international commerce. Line # 1 of the Metro runs from Vincennes to the Defense so it is easy to get to.<br />
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#3, A statue, weird.<br />
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#4, People taking the sun on a cold and breezy day. <a href="http://www.tuilleries.com/">http://www.tuilleries.com/</a>. The gardens of the Tuilleries date from the 17thC. Paris is a city of parks, but this is one of the most accessible in the center of the city. There are at least three open-air restaurants as well as one pond where you can rent little toy sailboats and play. There are also plenty of benches and chairs. Keep in mind that paris is a city of apartment dwellers, and most apartments are tiny to small, so the only outdoors available to many are parks and sidewalk cafes. And now that smoking in the interior of restaurants is illegal, sidewalk cafes and parks are the only alternatives. PS Smoking has actually increased this year and the ministry of Health is very unhappy about it. It is though the reason is stress.<br />
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#5 A stabile, I think. Apparently a pile of metal shavings.<br />
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#6, Floating artwork, little silvery balls, corralled and moved by the wind.<br />
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#7, Walking man, very suggestive of Rodin.<br />
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#8 & 9, Multiheaded thing cradling an egg made of polished tin cans. Very Indian – subcontinental that is as is the artist. Observe the perfect symmetry of the egg!<br />
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#10, Weird statue,<br />
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#11, Large rocks in a row, or waiting in line.<br />
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#12, Prehistory inspired,<br />
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#13/14 Funny house all doors.<br />
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#15/16 Colette playing hide and seek in the funny house,<br />
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#17, Inside the funny house<br />
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#18/19, An Indian couple from Princeton, NJ asked me to take pictures of them and another funny statue, like something for space.<br />
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#20, Tree in a little pond.<br />
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#21, Sticks inspired by the US flag.<br />
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#22, Bits and pieces of cast iron, it looks like.<br />
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#23, A bicycle tour of Paris!<br />
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#24, Maillol, Aristide, La Rivière<br />
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#25, Maillol, L’Air. There are 16 other Maillol statutes I am going to have to look for spread around the gardens.<br />
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#26, Great court of the Louvre, the famous glass pyramid reception center designed by the Chinese/American architect Pie is almost invisible. I’ll take you there tomorrow or the next day.<br />
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#27, Arc de Carousel, if you have really, really excellent vision , standing under the arc you are in perfect alignment with the Arc de Triomphe and the Grande Arc de la Defense!<br />
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#28, Colette resting.<br />
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#29, La Seine, Ile de la Cite, the Vert Gallant which, in the 16th c, was a small island not yet joined to the bigger island, and where the major immolations took place, the most famous being that of Jacques de Mollay. If you want the details and they are pretty grim, read the History of the Templars in Paris. This where Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette and their children and servants were imprisoned. See also <a href="http://www.tour/">http://www.tour/</a> du temple paris.fr.<br />
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www.templiers paris.fr, see the English version. <a href="http://66.196.80.202/babelfish/translate_url_content?.intl=us&lp=fr_en&trurl=http://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fichier:Tour_du_Temple_circa_1795_Ecole_Francaise_18th_century.jpg"></a><br />
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#30, St. Germaine-l’Auxerrois was, in its time, the parish church of the kings of France.<br />
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#31, Waiting for the bus. Happily there are plenty of the glass enclosed waiting stations for buses in Paris. We are delighted that the casseurs, the juveniles who go around setting fire to cars and breaking windows, have left them standing for the moment. Colette is the last on the bench.<br />
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Pictures may follow depending on the mood of the software in my laptop.<br />
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Saturday, October 23, 2010, The Louvre.<br />
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A cloudy day, on and off sprinkle of rain, but nothing too serious. However, not a good day for outdoors so the next alternative was The Louvre. By Metro from Arts & Metiers (# 1 & 2) to the Opera , and then changed trains, lots of stairs, to the platform of the train, the station with the wonderful African murals (#3).the Palais Royal/Le Louvre. I took the Rue de Rivoli exit so could go in the old carriage entrance and look through the windows at the statuary court yard (#4) through to the Pyramid (#5).<br />
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or a rainy day, the great court yard appeared crowded and the line long, but I timed it and it took about 3 minutes before I was in the Pyramid and had gone through security. #6 is inside looking out to the Louvre, and #7, looking down at the reception area.<br />
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Buying an admission ticket was challenging but eventually the machine gave in and accepted my E10 bill, gave me E .50 change and a printed ticket. Happily there are several check-in counters for coats and umbrellas but not, interestingly enough, not hats.<br />
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The Louvre is enormous and is, in fact, several palaces that, over the centuryies, werelinked together. The Pyramid, designed by the American/Chinese architect Pei, is – as it were – a gigantic skylight covering the enormous reception area. If it gave the appearance of being crowded yesterday afternoon with its masses of tourists – particularly Japanese! – I dread to think what it may be in the summer, in august, in the height of the tourist season. At least now it – the Louvre – is airconditioned.<br />
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The exhibits I wanted tovisit were in the Pavillion Denon – everything is well marked and I had picked up the map of themuseu. Happily there are escalators and by following the signs, a reproduction of the Mona Lisa, I found my way up to Borghese Collecdtions (#8 & 9), into a hall of Greek statues including the Discus thrower (#10 & 11).<br />
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The Victory of Samathrace appears small from the Greek hall of statuary but once close to it, it is not (#12, 13, 14).<br />
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Again, following theMona Lisa signs (La Jaconde, in French) I found the galleries of Italian masters. My first stop ws to say hello to Il Condottiere (a military commander #15) painted in 1479 by Antonello da Messina. If you look on the internet by picture title you will find much better reproductions. #16 the Italian Gallery, then turn right into the large room in which the Mona Lisa is the principal attraction. (#17, 18, 19) Sharing the same large room as the Mona Lisa is Deux chiens de chasse, (# 20, Two hunting dogs) painted in 1548 by Jacopo dal Pente. Bring a dog biscuit.<br />
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Go to ArtList on internet to see better reproductions. Rafaello Santi, aka Raphael, (#21) painted Baldassare Castiglione metime 1478-1529. Another Rafael masterpiece is Dona Isabel de Requersens, and I can’t find it on Artlist.<br />
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Michelangelo Merisi, otherwise known as Caravagio, (#23), 1571-1610, painted The Fortune Teller (French, La diseuse de bonne aventure) between 1595-1598. He came to a bad end, go to the internet and read about him. <br />
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Now we move to the Spanish Gallery and the wonderful paint of a little boy with a long name, Luis Maria de Cistué Marting (1788-1842, #24), by Francisco José de Goya y Lucientes, 1746-1818. Another favorite of mine is Portrait de Inigo Melchior Fernandez de Velasco, 1650, painted in an elegant suit by Bartolomé Esteban Murillo, 1618-1682 (#25). <br />
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As usual my laptop software is jumping all of the place and it just dumpted several paragraphs that I will have torewrite. Everyone knows the onderful, almost life-sized portrait of Maria Waldstein, 9th marquise of Santa Cruz, 1763-1808, also painted by Goy (#26). <br />
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And do not overlook the two great pictures (#27, 28) by Giovanni Paolo Pannini (1691-1765), Galerie de vues de58.la Rome moderna, (Gallery of views of modern Rome) 1759, and Galerie de vues de la Rome antique, Gallery of views of antique Rome) 1758. These two you will have to look up on internet as it is pictures with a picture.<br />
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Now we move on to the French large picture, andImean very large pictures. #29 is Paul Delaroche (1707-1856) of Napoleon crossing the Alpes painted in 1848. #30 is another familiar one, Eugene Delacrois’s the 28 july la liberté Guidant le people (July 29, Liberty guiding the people). You need to read the history back of it. <br />
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#31, Le radeau de la Méduse (The raft of the Méduse) is based on fact and is pretty grim. Géricault (1791-1824) painted it on the basis of fact. Our neighbor here, a photodirector, recently did a shoot of this picture using people for a centerfoil picture in Paris Match.<br />
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If you like horses, don’t miss #32, Géricault’s Officier de chasseurs à cheval de la guarde imperiale chargeant (Officer of the royal guard charging), present at the Salon 1812, when the artist was 20 year’s old. #33 by Jean-Auguste-Dominque Ingres, 1780-1867, uneodilisque aka La grande odalisque. Lots of warm body colors. <br />
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#34 introduces the work David with his Portait of Mme Recamier. This is one of David’s smaller, more intimate works, but nogo onb to #35, the crowning of Josephine by Napoleon…<br />
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October 25, 2010, Les Champs-Elysees.<br />
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#1 The Arc de Triomphe now has tunnels under it to facilitate traffic. #2 The offices of the international advertising firm, Publicis, where my friend Irene works, a block below the Arc de Triomphe. #3 Arc de Tiomphe, again. #4 Peugeot showroom. #5 Peugeot showroom where the classic Peugeot bicycle draws admiring glances. #7 Sidewalk café, heated, not the man with the coat with a hood. It was not too warm. #8, 9 Toyota ‘concept’ car. #10 Toyota’s verison of the Smart car hanging on the wall. #11 Entrance to a shopping arcade, in shadow. #12 Imagine have a flat tire on the Champs-Elysees. Note the driver has a safety vest on, required by law in France. #13, 14 A 1937 Renault sedan, beautiful. #15 A very early, pre WWI Renault. #16 The Citroen building, #17 The view toward Place de la Concorde, #18 Close up of the Citroen Building, #19, 20 & 21, more Citroen building.<br />
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October 27, 2010, The Orangerie. <a href="http://www.discoverfrance.net/France/Paris/Museums-Paris/Orangerie.shtml">http://www.discoverfrance.net/France/Paris/Museums-Paris/Orangerie.shtml</a>. <br />
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This web site, in English, provides a short history of the Orangerie. The renovation work has been completed and it is a delight to visit. I regret to say this was my first visit but it has been closed from 2000 through 2008. I hope my pictures taken with my little Canon digital camera will encourage you to look at the pictures on line where the photography will be less distorted.<br />
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#1 Place de la Concorde, the Ferris Wheel (not yet assembled) and the refreshment stands and pedal taxis. #2 view of the Place de la Concorde toward the Ministry of the Marine, to its left is the Hotel Crillon and behond that, and not visible, is the American Embassy. #3 The Kiss by Auguste Rodin , an original casting, outside the Orangerie with the Place de la Republique in the background.<br />
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I had never heard of André Derain, but this first picture captured me and I would love to have it in our living room. I think it would fit. There are others in the collection here, at the Orangery, to which I would be delighted to give wall space as there are in the Louvre, the Musee d’Orsay and the Hotel de Picasso. Oh well, I could not afford the insurance. Some pictures, and one’s own string quartette, would make life pleasant.<br />
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André Derain, 1880-1946<br />
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#4, L’Age d’Or (The Golden Age)<br />
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Chaim Soutine, 1893-194 ? #5, Le Village, #6, Arbre Couché, #7 Paysage, #8 Le Gros arbre bleu<br />
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Maurice Utrillo, 1883-1955, #8 Rue de Mont-Cenis, 1914 (Montmartre ?), #9 La Mairie au drapeau, 1924,<br />
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André Derain, #10 Grand nu couché, vers 1926-27<br />
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Pablo Picasso, 1881-1973, #12 Femme au tambourine, 1925, #13 Grand nu à la draperie, 1920-21,<br />
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André Derain, #14 Nu au paysage, <br />
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Henri Matisse, 1889-1954, #14 Le nu rose ou la jeune fille et le vase de fleurs, #15 Odalisque à la culotte grise, 1927, #16 Femme au canapé ou le divan, 1921, , #17 Les trois sœur, 1916-17,<br />
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Picasso #18 Nu sur fond rouge, 1906, #19 Femme au peigne 1906, #20 Composition : paysans, 1906, <br />
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Amadeo Modigliani, 1884-1920, #21 Le jeune apprenti, 1918-19,<br />
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Henri-Julie Felix Rousseau, 1844-1910, #21 La noce, vers 1904, #22 Promeneurs dans un parc, 1900-1910, #23 La navire dans la tempete, vers 1890, #24 Les pecheurs à la ligne, 1908-1909 , #25 La carriole du Père Junier, 1908<br />
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Modigliani, Anatonio vers 1915, #26 Portrait d’une femme,<br />
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Marie Laurencin, 1883-1956, #27 Danseus espagnoles, #28 Portrait de Mme Pul Guillaume, 1924, <br />
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Paul Cézanne, 1839-1906, #29 Le Rocher rouge, #30 Arbres et maisons, #31 La barque, et les baigneuse, 1890.<br />
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Paul Gauguin, 1848-1903, #32 Paysage 1903, #33 Fleurs et Fruit & Fleurs dans un vasse bleu (two pictures hung together), #34 Madame Cézanne au jardin, 1879-1880, #35 Le déjeuner sur l’herbe, #36 Vase paillé, sucrier et pommes , # 37 Portrait du fils de l’artiste, 1881-1882, #38 Portrait de Mme Cézanne, vers 1890.<br />
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Pierre-August Renoir, 1846 – 1919, #39 Femme nue coucheée (Gabrielle), #40 Gabrielle et Jean, #41 Portrait de deux fillettes.<br />
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Miniatures of : #41, 42, 43 Bureau of M. Guillaume (note miniature reproductions of art), #44, 45, 46 Dining room, <br />
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Monet, #47, 48, 49, 50 Les Nymphias, #51 Interior of the Gallery, #52 Exterior of theOrangerie, <br />
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Auguste Rodin, #53 L’Ombre (Shadow), #54 Méditation avec Bras (Meditation with Arms), #55 Ève, <br />
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#56 The Garden of the Tuilleries, bleached out by strong contrast of light, #57 View of the Tuileries with the Place de la Concorde in the background, #58 Fountain, #59 Eiffel Tower as the sun sets, Place de laConcorde and heavy traffic (taken with telescopic lens, the Tower is actually several miles in the distance). #59 Statue of horses (les Chevaux de Marly) also taken with telescopic lens with the Ministry of Marine to the right and the Hotel Crillon to the left. #60 Obelisk in the center of the Place de la Concorde.<br />
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#61 Contemporary art (see October 21, 2010 ) #62 Putto (Italian for a little angel) with flower, entry tosouvenir book store at the entgry to the Garden of theTuilleries.<br />
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For more detailed history of the Place, the Obelisk etc. go to the web and look for Place de la Concorde.com, Chevaux de Marly. com. <br />
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October 28, 2010 Manifestation and then to the Place St. Michel<br />
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#1 & 2, I walked the length of rue de N.D. de Nazareth to rue St. Michel then up to the Blvd. St. Martin where I found a major manifestation. #3 the imposing lady in front of the street rack of Gibert Jeune appeared to be competent to handle any crowd. The store did not have a copy of the book I wanted but the sales person checked her computer, found that the main store at the Place St. Martin did, telephoned to reserve a copy and I was on my way. I made my way through the crowd to the Métro # 4 and I was soon waiting for the elevator in the St. Michel station, one of the oldest and deepest of Paris.<br />
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#5 The marble plaque on the wall of the monument reads “Here Robert Cauthier, student, engaged in the FFS (The French underground) fell for the liberation of Partis, the 21 August 1944 at 21 year’s old.” There are many of the plaques in the Left Bank, and on the dates of the death of the defenders of Paris bouquets are placed beneath them.<br />
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#6 The momument at the Place St. Michel, ot really an artistic triumph but one of my favorite places in Paris. #7 – 12, no shortage of places to eat inexpensively on rue de la Huchette that runs parallel to Quai St. Michel. # 13 Rue du Chat qui Peche reputed to be the shortest street in Paris that links rue de la Huchette to Quai St. Michel. #14 Yet another restaurant with Greek goodies in the front window. <br />
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#15 Notre Dame de Paris seen from the corner of rue du Petit Pont and Quai St. Michel. #16 Another plaque honoring young men killed in the liberation of Paris. #17 Notre Dame. #18 The merry-go-round on the Place of the Hotel de Ville. I keep intending to do a census of the merry-go-rounds in Paris, I know of three, the other two being on the Place de la République and on the quai of the Trocadero. <br />
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#1 The newly opened adjunct to the famous L’Ami Louis. This addition is Chez l’Ami, Tripier. Tripes, in English, not my favorite thing. There are several ways of preparing them from the east of France, with Champagne, but the most known is in the manner of Caen. # 2 On the rue St. Michel the corporate headquarters of Paul Gauthier, the fashion designer. This is a wonderful example of a turn-of-the-century mansion (hotel particulier, in French). #3 Rue au Maire, another private mansion with the door opened ondto the court. It is a printing company that does bindings of special editions. #4 Other tourists and a delivery man resting. #5 A hole-in-the-wall sandwich shop, # 6 close up.<br />
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#7 A very friendly butcher, a rarety I assure you. #8 Pouring cement into molds above the street. #9 & 10 Passage Vendome from the rue Beranger to the Place de la Republique. Inside there are two Viet-namese restaurants, one Turkish restaurant, a shoerepair shop and other little businesses. <br />
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October 30, 2010, Brocante/side walk street market, Blvd. St. Martin. Miscellaneous views of things you cannot live without!<br />
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October 31, 2010, # 1 – 10 Louise Fogarty (I don’t know her married name) wearing my new E 5. Hat and holding her sleepingdaughter in her lap in thelobby of our hotel. This is the Hotel Paris France where we spend the night before our departure for home after Colette has cleaned and closed the apartment, turned off the utilities, and I have pulled the suitcases to the hotel. # 2 Louise and Irene, whom I met in a bistro over coffee and trying to get my laptop tied into the bistro’s wifi signal several years ago. Irene is Irish and now has American citizen, and works in Paris for Publicis writing advertising scripts for TV. #11- 12 Bistro on the corner of rue du Temple and rue Dupetit-Thouars, roast chicken and fries, very good. I recommend it.<br />
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Nvember 1, 2010 From Paris to Newark,yet another difficult trip. Unusually exensive tax, almost $75 to the airport, wait to check in, Colette did not ask for a wheel chair, turned out to be a mistake. # 1 – 6 This is Terminal 1, the original terminal for Charles de Gaulle airport. I is designed like a group of mushrooms, with the larger, center mushroom the hub for the little mushrooms which contain security, limited bar service, and quite comfortable facilities. This was another frustrating example of hurry up and wait. Once on board, we had then to disembark, then reimbark. #7 Lunch was served about 3 p.m. and it was the usual airline menu of chicken and something.<br />
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We arrived at Newport about 3 hours late. Colette’s wheel chair was waiting for us and her Bangladeshi pusher took off for our departure gate like a man possessed. He got us through arrival formalities, customs, rechccking our suitcases and to the departure gate. #8 There we learned our flight was delayed, no departure time shown. # 9 Colette, exhausted. Eventually we checked in for another, later flight, trotted from departure gate to departure gate, and eventually we did leave but late. Happily Ramon was a RDU waiting for us but we were tired. The following morning we both had medical appointments that had to be kept.CharlesShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11548475957690019501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5533310574623130662.post-29173122252737772502011-09-03T12:36:00.000-07:002011-11-22T11:52:08.388-08:00Paris 2009Paris, September 9 – October 14, 2009<br />
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Departure from Chapel Hill, Wednesday, September 9, 2009. A summaryof our trip, try not to cry in sympathy. The kennel closes at 2 p.m. in the afternoon so Ramon picked us up at the house at 1:15 p.m., left the dog in Morrisville at 1:40 p.m. and by 2 p.m. we had completed security. The advantage of ordering a wheel chair for Colette is the pusher takes you through the fast line for inspections along with flight crew. I had to be searched more thoroughly because I wearing suspenders that had metal clips and they made the all bells ring. We sat and wanted until boarding time but, in favor of the new terminal, it is relatively quiet but still is populated with CNN. <br />
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The flight left approximately on time at 5:15 p.m. and by 6:30 p.m. we were at the Atlanta Terminal. A wheel chair and attendant was waiting for Colette and off we went, several miles from the A concourse to the E concourse, from which our Paris flight would depart. Colette now insists, and rightfully so, on having a wheel chair as she gets too tired running the miles that changing planes now involves. I had to trot to keep up with Colette’s wheel-chair attendant as we eventually made our way to the international concourse several miles away, down elevators into an automated train, up elevators and we eventually arrived. <br />
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It was one of the more dismal departure lounges in our experience. No food or drink for sale, nothing, and a nasty carpet that could compete in world class for ugliness. E Concourse, International Departures, was dark and unpopulated except for E -1, where there were signs of life. We sat, and sitting next to us was a delightful German-American lady who lives in New Mexico and raises Alpacas. Eventually we were boarded, and the flight left an hour late, at 9:40 p.m. <br />
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We left an hour late from Atlanta at 9:40 p.m., and 20 minutes later we reached cruising altitude and the flight attendants gave up their gossiping we hoped for drink and food. It arrived almost an hour later, about 11 pm, simultaneously. No cocktail hour for the peasants. Just as I tucked into my chicken whatever (don’t look too closely) the captain spoke from the flight deck and advised that do to problems with the electrical system we had to return to Atlanta so eat up drink up so the flight personnel can clean up. As we coasted over what papered to be a large city we were informed it was Charlotte, NC. Several bumps later we were down, and the capital announced that it was not Charlotte but Greenville, SC. <br />
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For the next three hours babies screamed, the mid-20 year-old brat two rows behind us proclaimed his superiority, and Colette tried to sleep. <br />
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Before deplaning the plan was, as of 3:30 a.m., that Delta will (version 1) repair the present plane in Greenville or (version 2), bring a plane from Atlanta and we will board and – hopefully – take off at 1 pm for Atlanta, and an hour later land there. The grand plan is that we then change equipment with, hopefully our luggage, and leave for Paris arriving there sometime in the middle of the night.<br />
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Eventually we left the plane, Colette decided she did not need a wheel chair and later was sorry. We walked what seemed like several miles to the terminal, climbed stairs, walked and walked, went downstairs, and found most of the passengers ahead of us. Eventually I got a wheel chair for Colette and we moved to the head of the line. It was now about 3 a.m. Delta had awakened and called into work as many of its personnel in Greenville/Spartanburg as it could, all 4 of them one of whom took care of us. A very pleasant man but he was not swift on computers. Eventually he pushed Colette another ¼ mile from inside to outside to the bus that was waiting. The people in the bus had been waiting for more than 45 minutes but the driver would not leave until the bus was filled. When we got to the Marriott Hotel (boo!), Colette observed a hidden check-line and I rushed to take advantage of it. As we were leaving Colette observed a slightly stooped, and nicely dress lady with very white hair standing in the longer line for the more vigorous. She directed me to go over to her and take her around the column for faster service, and we left her and went on our way. We found our room, decked out with enough pillows for an expensive whorehouse, and we barely brushed out teeth before falling into bed.<br />
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By 9 a.m. that same morning Colette and I were washed, dressed and in the dining room where we again met the same elderly (older than we are) lady again in the buffet lane over the scrambled eggs pan and we suggested she join us for breakfast. During our conversation we learned her parents were French but she was born in New York City in 1921, had been raised in NY, had spent only one year in France as a young girl. She still spoke beautiful French. She had married an American and after his death she had retired to Fort Lauderdale. Her name was Antoinette, and she asked no favors Delta. Happily, for her, as Delta would not have responded. We soon learned that our Delta vouchers were worth only $7 after we had eaten $16+ worth of one scrambled egg and attachments. We left her drinking coffee and we returned to our room and fiddled, I put drops into my eyes (4 days after each injection) slept a little then we went downstairs for an 11 a.m. departure, as instructed. Once again the bus driver waited until the bus was filled and we left for the airport where we found the balance of the 240 passengers. <br />
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After more standing in line we were instructed to proceed to our departure gate. I found a wheelchair for Colette and a nice elderly, plantation-trained (nicely subservient) sky cap wheeled Colette to the elevator, then again the ¼ of mile to the end of the terminal where we would wait for the flight. It was then about 12:00 noon. No Delta personnel in sight. Eventually a male person arrived and said the plane was being maintained and would be along soon. At 1:00 p.m. more Delta personnel arrived and spent their free time, of which they had a lot, chatting cheerfully with each other until one made an announcement that we should get in line. No provisions for the lame, elderly and families with small children. Once in line, there we stood, but no activity. At this time, we were promised a voucher for money plus a hot buffet in Atlanta courtesy of Delta Airlines. As our departure from Spartanburg at 1 p.m., then 1:30 p.m. was scrubbed in favor of the later departure at 3 p.m. So there would be no hot buffet. We saw Antoinette again at the airport where we were stood in line waiting to board (standing for 1 ½ hours I add). Then the announcement was made that the plane was being pulled from the maintenance hangar to the departure area. However, the airport terminal was not configured for a 737 so we would have to walk to the plane parked as far away as possible from the terminal.. <br />
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Greenfield, SC is the US base for Michelin Tires. It is the end of the world for the French who work for Michelin Tires and, believe me, they have our sympathy! <br />
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When we arrived in Atlanta and as we pulled up to the gate, E-3, and were informed all we would have to do was cross the aisle and board at E-1. Quite literally we walked from one flight to another. Passengers on our trip destined for Athens, Frankfurt, and other destinations were told to hurry as their flights were being held for them and would the others, Paris bound “us” would please wait. No one really did.<br />
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So, we crossed the concourse, checked our tickets at the door, boarded our flight and an hour later, at 6 p.m. not 5 p.m. we were Paris bound. Once again dinner was served with drinks. The wine was served from cardboard boxes. I took pictures and will forward them when I can figure out how to do it on my uncooperative HP. The menu was the same as the preceding evening, a choice of cannelloni topped with tomato sauce or baked chicken with vegetables. I got a Scotch on the ice and glass of red wine out of the cardboard milk container. All very déjà vu.<br />
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A great deal more to come including a chapter on what we think of Delta, the red-neck airline with country music and full-time HBO all during flight, the X rated films you always wanted to see. The featured film was “The Girl we left Behind us” or something like that. The girls had pneumatically filled bosoms. This was followed by free, no cost to viewers, featured, first-run films from HBO, all of which featured the same bosoms, no plot and like Colette and I, no one near us wore earphones. The films were shown all night until they were usurped by an eternally long interview by some bespeckled male person of Pace College (Pace College?) of a young man in a suit that Colette recognized as the star in the Harry Potter series. No one in our sightline exhibited any interest. This continued during land and right up to gate but was turned off at this point.<br />
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As always there are vignettes of people and places. During the first attempt to cross the Atlantic, Colette and I were seated in row 24 A& B. Highly recommended. Behind us in row 25 A & B were two you male persons fresh in to/out of middle schools that were invisible and inaudible. However in row 26 A & B there was a young man who looked in his early 20’s and blond broad who wished she were 39 again. They compared life stories, most uninteresting. The young male person went to/ or was admitted to, U of VA, clubs, etc we learned all about it, and we heard more than we wanted to about his trip and his successes he had promised himself. I finally could not more take of it and stood up, leaned over and asked him to please not to include us in his conversation. He tried to be cute and he was impervious to my cutting remark. <br />
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On the other hand, in seats 25 C, D & E was a young family, he Russian, she American, and the mother-in-law, Russian (speaking no English). They had a darling little baby about 10 months who did not want to travel at her young and tender age and complained in bat-like squeals that would shatter crystal if crystal were present. The parents did their very best and ultimately calmed the poor child down. <br />
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September 12, 2009, Saturday. I am inside La Pierre du Marais, a café/bistro across the street from the Hotel de Ville, that faces the Parc du Temple, more detail on that in a minute while I wait for a parade of Peruvian dancers in native dress playing drums, whistles, and sundry musical instruments, pass on the other side of the Rue de Bretagne.<br />
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We arrived yesterday morning, Friday, September 11, 2009, at 8:15 a.m. exhausted. 36 hours from Raleigh to Paris! Although the wheel chair for Colette had been ordered well ahead of time, the telex had not received until shortly before the plane landed. Once Colette was in the wheel chair, and her pusher, Levorna (I think) took control, we moved rapidly through at least ¼ mile of Charles de Gaulle, Roissy 3, i.e. the 3rd Air France terminal. Along the great windows overlooking the parking and landing of the airport, up in little elevators, more corridors, a magic train, self-propelled and self-directed, another elevator, larger, then through immigration and down another elevator to wait for luggage that, magically arrived, almost immediately.<br />
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Colette had Euros in large denominations so I ran to American Express (our expensive friend) and changed $20 for 10+Euros at $1.61 buys one Euro. Figure that out with the official exchange rate of E 1 = $1.45. <br />
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By 9:30 a.m. we were being loaded into a taxi. The ride in was relatively quickly and soon we were at 35, rue de N.D. de Nazareth. I carried the suitcases, one at a time, up half the stairs, then rested, and then continued upward. Colette had opened the door and we were in.<br />
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We turned on electricity, gas, water, and we unpacked suitcases in spite of fatigue. Then I put on shoes and walked down the stairs, out through the nasty courtyard on to the street, and half a block to FrancPrix, our poor man’s Harris Teeter, bought elementary supplies, returned, and we lunched, then rested, trembling with fatigue. Later I again shod, and joined Colette for a visit to the neighborhood. On to MonoPrix, a bit more stylish that FrancPrix, for supplies, then I went looking for a take out for dinner. I crossed the Parc du Temple, joined rue de Bretagne, and found the Marché des Garcons Rouges and our Moroccan take-out where, for E 26, I got couscous, sauce, chicken and one merguez. I am afraid to multiply by $1.45 to find the cost in dollars.<br />
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Dinner eaten we watch sleepily TV then collapse into bed. I fell into bed, slept, awakened at 1 a.m., the internal clock off, and eventually crawled back into bed and asleep.<br />
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This morning we made our way to Marché Aligre by Métro, stopping on the to buy a throw-away telephone for almost E 40 ($60), now if I can just figure out how it works as the instructions are minimal. The market was wonderful, tables of junk for sale, books, clothes everything but a cap I wanted to replace my winter hat I was wearing, then through the interior of market that I never tire of visiting and photographing. I’ll try to send some pictures if and when figure out how to do it on Microsoft Vista. Boo!<br />
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Now the good news! I wrote the first half sitting in a bistro, inside because of the glare, watching the world go by on rue de Bretagne. I sent the first section and then checked to see if it had been successfully sent! It had disappeared, but I did find the four messages I had written Thursday morning from Greenville/Spartanburg that had not been sent. I check the WiFi and it was working so I read the NYT thanks to the Mayor of 3rd District of Paris, but my laptop would not send.<br />
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I came home and plugged the laptop into recharge the battery and decided to try and see what the WiFi situation was there. Last year there were many WiFi’s but all secure. Now there is both secure and insecure. I do not know if the one I am using is spy ware or not but who cares. <br />
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Tomorrow I will try to send pictures.<br />
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Sunday, September 13, 2009 I spent a very restless night, physiologically my body clock was still in Chapel Hill and here I am in Paris. From 10 p.m. I tried to sleep, then gave up, and put in an hour or two of worrying, always very constructive. I worried about Obama (I’m vexed with him at the moment), US-Iranian relations, Health Reform, the dollar vs. the Euro and finally fell asleep until Colette awakened at 7:30 a.m., very late for her.<br />
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Sunday morning was spent trying to bring order, if only a little bit, into my laptop file, part of the closet that was converted to a desk with electric outlet and shelves that can be folded up and the door closed. This involved, among other things, trying to be neat and orderly and finding places for converters, Dell batteries for the Dell laptop in Raleigh (Jim, take note!). In an apartment this small you live as if on a very small sailing or motorboat and everything must be put away; or you are soon submerged by THINGS. It is easy for Colette, but difficult for me.<br />
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Lunch, a nap, and then we decided to get some fresh air and visit our neighborhood. Colette and I walked up to a new grocery store (épicerie in French), very smart, elegantly laid out, all sorts of interesting things, but many of the items carrying the big M of MonoPrix (OnePrice). However it had interesting and original presentations of prepared exotic and ethnic foods from Thailand, India, China, etc. <br />
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I left Colette and walked up rue de Turbigo where it joins the rue du Temple and descended the stairs of the Métro and, after only a few moments wait, along came a train. At the second stop, Sébastopol, I made the correspondence and followed the signs to the Métro that would take me to the Place St. Michel, one my favorite places. <br />
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The Métro stations are remarkably clean and pleasant, and this line, Orleans-Clignancourt includes two of the oldest stations, Cité and Place St. Michel. These two stations are built inside giant caissons; do I have the right word? Remember the work was begun about 1895 +/- and dug by hand and then pre-assembled caissons were rafted down the Seine, and somehow moved over to the great hole, and sunk in. In order to dig the holes, pipes were laid and refrigerant pumped through. It was not easy.<br />
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I’ll send a picture soon. In the Place St. Michel station there are, happily, escalators. In the Ctié station there is an elevator or stairs. Take your choice. <br />
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Now take a moment to hate Microsoft VISTA. I can’t find how to number pages, easy in XP. I went to Help, on line, and it is no Help at All! <br />
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Up-up-and-up by escalator and at the top I took a picture of the main floor with the ticket booths, and you should be able to see the steel caissons, nicely painted. At the top of the up escalator there is a flight of stairs up to street level. You are now at the beginning of Boulevard St. Michel known as Boul’Miche. This is the heart of medieval Paris, or what is left of it, and further up the street is the University of Paris, la Sorbonne. As you come up street level you are face-to-face with Gibert Jeune, a chain bookstore, of which this is the main one. However, no place for the claustrophobic like me. There are narrow aisles, masses of people, tiny staircases, and lots of books, floors and floors, actually only about 4. And, of course, like most French stores, there are not enough cash registers conveniently located.<br />
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The sun had been hidden by clouds, and there was a pleasant breeze, so it the time and temperature was ideal for walking, even though I was buffeted by tourists, and the roar of digital cameras. I crossed the Quai St. Michel, and walked toward the Cathedral of Notre Dame. <br />
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Dindin time, and I’ll try to finish tomorrow and send pictures. Really first day in Paris, recovering from 36 hour trip from RDU to Paris. <br />
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1st picture, art deco sculpture at 5th floor of apartment building overlooking Parc du Temple, Then pictures of the Park, Rue de Bretagne where we shop, gawk, I spend time with laptop watching world go by for the price of a cup of tea, E 3 x $1.45.<br />
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Monday, September 14, 2009 Monday morning and Colette and I were off by Métro to Tajan Commissaires, an auction house to recuperate a small, carved-stone statue of Mary Magdalene. Colette’s father renamed it Sainte Barbe, the patron saint of artillery as he had been in that branch of the French Army in both World Wars. It was part of her father’s collection but it is not convenient to carry around. Colette had commissioned Tajan to sell it, and after two attempts it had not sold and she had to pick it up. It weighs about 100 lbs, and between the little grocery carryall and a sturdy taxi driver, we managed to get it in and out of the cab, then pulled it to the apartment, and we lifted it step-by-step up to our first floor.<br />
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The weather is mild and autumnal and this afternoon I took off on foot to visit Gibert Jeune on Blvd. St. Martin that is within walking distance. From the apartment turn left and follow rue de N.D. de Nazareth to rue St. Martin, took pictures of the gates, then turned right on the Blvd. and found Gibert Jeune where, after some searching, found a copy of Proust’s La côté de Guermantes and Elizabeth Spencer’s A Southern Woman, translated into French. Elizabeth, of course, lives in Chapel Hill but is very well considered in French literary circles for her novels and novellas set in the South.<br />
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Then on to rue St. Denis, and took more pictures of shop windows of women’s clothes. You will understand when I send them to you. Rue St. Denis is one of the few streets in the Marais, our extended neighborhood, where girls of joy still openly ply their wares. I saw only two today, more attractive than one usually sees, one rather cheerful and marginally overweight, and the other a bit more exotic with a definite Caribbean cast to her features.<br />
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Then started the trek home, crossed rue St. Denis, again, on to rue Turbigo, and took a picture of some almost naked window dummies attractively garbed with a sign in the back that read (in French, obviously) “dummies for lingerie.”<br />
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I crossed rue de Beaubourg, and followed rue Gravailliers, lined with Chinese shops that seem to import only women’s large and unattractive handbags.<br />
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Tuesday, September 15, 2009. Another exciting day in Paris! Last night heavy but short showers, pity the person without an umbrella. The weather holds cool and fresh with spots of sunshine.<br />
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The lady contractor, Mme Barba, whom we call when we need work done, promised to be here by 9:30 a.m. to see why one of our living room windows would not open. They have a metal frames in and out so if they are bent windows and doors do not open. We have already been told that a building as old as ours is – the guess is between 18th & 19th centuries - continues to shift with every change in temperature and humidity. Don’t laugh! Our front door is a little less secure than the door of a bank vault but is constructed along the same lines. Metal frame, metal door, and when the door is closed and the key is turned there are metal extensions within the door that go into the exterior metal frame.<br />
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In any case, by 10:30 a.m. Colette called Mme Barba’s office, no reply, and then her cell phone and left a message. She returned the call almost immediately and promised to drop by at 2:30 p.m. Colette had a doctor’s appointment at 3:00 p.m. and at 2:40 p.m. no Mme Barba, so Colette left (her doctor’s office is not even a 10 minute walk) she instructed me to sit tight until <br />
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3:30 p.m. and if Mme B had not called, telephone her and leave a message and I was free to go out and frolic.<br />
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So you see life in Paris is filled with surprises, color and excitement. Free of domestic responsibilities I walked abroad, went to MonoPrix and made the exciting purchase of a fingernail brush, mailed a letter to BB&T (my bank in Chapel Hill), and went looking for the public library to get something read.<br />
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The library, now two years in its new home, is very modern, filled with books, of course, magazines, disks, CD’s and computers. However now that the City of Paris has citywide WiFi (marvelous) I no longer have to deal with the French computer keyboard.<br />
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When I arrived home Colette had seen the doctor and done some errands. The doctor wanted to know why she had called for an appointment and she explained she had been hospitalized the second week of August for what may have been a minor heart attack and that she wanted to have a resource nearby if she had any problems. He gave her a quick but relatively thorough check up and Colette went cheerily on her way until the physician reminded her she had not paid for the visit. She wrote a check for E 27 an office visit. E 27. X by $1.50 = $40 +/-, can’t do that in the U.S. <br />
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September 16, 2009, Wednesday. Look for a picture of a Wallace Fountain, a very rich English initiated the first public potable water program in Paris after the Franco-German war when Paris was surrounded and isolated for several months.<br />
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Our corner, we are the second building to the left, with the great doors. It was built sometime during the 18th or 19th century, the plans are no longer in the Paris archives, I went to look! It was built before indoor plumbing so toilets and bathtubs are raised over the pipes, and down pipes are on the outside, like some of the better neighborhoods of London.<br />
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The restaurant with the red checked curtains is L'Ami Louis. It is not a bistro as Vanity Fair claims, but a restaurant. President Chirac took Bill Clinton to dinner there and the whole neighborhood was locked up. It has wonderful food, specializing in the southwest of France, high cholesterol, terrines and patés, steaks, and more. Next to it, on the corner, is an Argentinean steak house, very chic and expensive. We now have at least three other would-be first-class restaurants so our neighborhood is coming up in the world. <br />
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September 17, 2009, Thursday. The Halles were, for more than 200 years (I'll check my dates later) the center of the wholesale food trade and it was here that Hemingway and his pals topped off an evening with carousing with onion soup and other delicacies like pigs' feet. In 1969 it was torn down and Beauburg Museum was raised, the Forum of the Halles dates from much the same time but is very 'art nouveau.'<br />
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St. Eustache is one of the great churches of Paris and I went to see the stone head by Miller, titled 'listening to the heart beat of Paris.' As you can see my new camera is too light sensitive, and the artwork is also a playground. <br />
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I heard music so went into St. Eustache and walked into a concert by an all male, senior citizen German choir, wonderful, and not an overweight among them. It included some organ music that was great.<br />
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Then underground for the first time to see the Forum that includes a tropical garden, a very large swimming pool, a Métro station serving 3 Métro lines and a suburban rail station. And last the interior of a Métro station with a train arriving and one leaving. <br />
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Sunday, September 20, 2009. The speed of life here is almost too much to bear! I just returned from a two-day visit with Colette’s father’s cousin Brigitte, and the trip to and back by train (TGV – Trains of Great Speed) was restful. Brigitte is the niece of the painter Jean Launois. Imagine floating through the countryside at 187.5 miles an hour without a bump and one loud speaking voice reminding passengers if they want to use a cell phone, they should go to the area between cars. He did not add that there are also power plugs for laptops and cell phones, whatever there and in the toilets. Too bad we don’t have real trains in the US.<br />
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The trips took 1 hour and 15 minutes and we arrived a few moments late because our platform had to be emptied of an outgoing TGV. When I stepped off the train into the heat of Paris on September 20th I was shocked. Not hot like Arizona, or even North Carolina, but about 90 plus degrees (24 degree Celsius), and this is not usual in northern Europe at this time of year. Last night in my bed in Cousin Brigitte’s house, in the country, far from the paved world of a large city, surrounded by country houses (I’ll send a picture), it was uncomfortably warm and, in the middle of the night, I was attacked by a mosquito. <br />
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Here in Paris in our little apartment, no screens on the windows, we are having mosquitoes. This is unheard of here and particularly at this time of year when it should be turning cooler, much cooler. <br />
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Colette’s father’s cousin, a distant one at that, was Jean Launois, the artist. Unknown in the US he is aggressively collected by a few people in France and has pictures hung in most of the French museums. I have been (pretentiously) working on a biography for more than 10 years and not making much progress. There is still a lot to be done but either I have the time and not the money, and I can’t bring the Oscar dog person with me to France where the material is. There are two major gaps in my documentation, the French army in Italy during WW I and the details of his life with his wife, Aimée Suarez. If you want to know more go to Internet, type in Jean Launois and read the Wikipedia article that I did several years ago.<br />
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If you want to see some of his pictures, Colette’s collection is unusual in that they were done at the Château de Courcelle, Colette’s family’s home, about 1917 just before Jean Launois went into the trench warfare. His regiment was shipped off to Italy shortly thereafter. The 18 months of the French army is Italy is not very well documented and I need a large grant to take me to Italy to do ground research.<br />
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Jean Launois married Aimée Suarez, the niece of the well-known French poet. And a few years later they world economy took a bump, and what had been a successful artist became a hungry artist. Aimée’s family lost its money, kept a house near St. Tropez, and it was tough going. Read Wikipedia.<br />
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To say that Jean Launois liked ladies would be a mild understatement. All for now, pictures of our visit to the Château de Terre Neuve, Cousin Brigitte’s house (don't confuse one with the other), and the town of Fontenay-le-Comte will follow. <br />
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Monday, September 21, 2009. Quiet day at home. Our contractor, Mme Barba, came with a helper to fix the windows in the living room so they will open. Keep in mind this building was built sometime between 1750 and 1850 (we guess) and it shifts, so the casements of the windows loose their geometry while the windows frames do not. It was an interesting operation. Mme Barba’s helper and his electric screwdriver, then file, dismounted, then filed and sent sparks flying, and eventually the windows were back in place and somewhat easier to open.<br />
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During the afternoon I struggled with Windows VISTA, it is not easy, to edit some of the material on Jean Launois then, with Colette’s instruction, went to a chain store named Picard that sells only frozen foods. Believe me, the frozen foods in Picard’s make the frozen foods section in Harris Teeter look like the work of an amateur. The problem we have at Picard’s is choosing which goody we will have for dinner. The choices are amazing including, among other things, whole stuffed salmon, any number of French and Italian specialties, French and some Indian. The website is <a href="http://www.picard.com/">http://www.picard.com/</a> , then go to Les Entrées. <br />
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The catalogue is heaven, in color, beautifully photographed. We bring them home and leaf through them, salivating as we go. Colette is going to spend almost a week with her niece in darkest Brittany and I will stay in Paris and most dinners will be from Picard’s.<br />
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Tomorrow I will trek to the Bibliothèque Nationale (France's Library of Congress) and try to do some serious work. However getting in this new, major library is not easy. The staff went on strike because of the distances involved in their work. More about it tomorrow.<br />
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September 24, 2009, Thursday. Pictures of Colette and the Gare Montparnasse railway station from which Colette left for Brittany to visit her niece, Anne Balcou, for six days.<br />
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September 25, 2009, Friday. Before Colette left I promised I would go see our neighborhood doctor if my cough and wheezing were not better. Colette met Dr. Yelloz for the first time a little more than a week ago when, on the advice of her pulmonary surgeon in UNC, she called for a “keep well” appointment. She returned from the appointment satisfied with the visit commenting that his office, which we had seen once before when another physician was holding down while Dr. Yelloz was on vacation, was as merdic (French argot, messy) as ever. Two years ago I had a terrible earache and we called because it was the nearest geographically to us. <br />
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His temporary replacement was businesslike and after the second appointment referred me to an ENT specialist the same afternoon. Try that in NYC or even Chapel Hil?. The ENT specialist was the consultant to the opera companies of Paris and had a keyboard in his office! In any case the office of Dr. Yelloz then, as now, would make most American physicians shudder. Bookcases, files and overflowing to the floor, cardboard boxes filled with what appeared to be patient clinical notes, however desk neat, computer and telephone on custom stand next to desk, no office assistant or nurse, drop in and wait your turn.<br />
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I telephoned Friday morning at 8:30 a.m., walked up the street to be there at 9:00 a.m. Happily there was an attractive young lady on the sidewalk in front of the double porte-cochere and to the right, in the cut-stone wall, buttons to push but with no names. The young lady showed me the large button to push which buzzed the door within the porte-cochere to open and we both walked under the building to yet more buttons on the wall, where one was labeled Dr. Yelloz, but earned no response. A third person, a sturdy looking man joined us. Then the outside door banged open and an authoritative young man walked in, the sound of his heels ringing in the tunnel, and we watched with amazement as he punched the physician’s button and banged open the door with the heel of his hand, and disappeared into the little lobby and ran up the stairs. The three of us followed suit.<br />
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Up one flight of stairs, the young lady leading and we followed her into the doctor’s windowless waiting room, a table with old magazines, and chairs around the wall. NO background music.<br />
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Eventually the young man with the authoritative heels banged out, Dr. Yelloz popped his head into the waiting room, and invited the young lady to follow him. About 15 minutes later she left, and the scenario resumed, and he said pleasantly “Mr. Gordon (in French) follow me!”<br />
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No social chitchat, and fifteen minutes later I had been thoroughly questioned, lungs listened to, prescriptions written and I was on my way with instructions that if I was not better I was to have x-rays and bring them to him on Monday. Since then with little ambition other to drink water and sleep, and occasionally try to eat. Paris has had to do without me. And, of course, the weather has been perfectly splendid, although warmer than it should be. Normally I would be idling along the Seine, looking at books, taking pictures, and enjoying the air.<br />
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However, pursuant to his instructions, if I was not feeling better I should return. <br />
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Happily Colette was in Brittany with Anne Balcou, her niece, who is recovering from major cancer surgery and undergoing treatment so Colette was not here to be kept awake by my nocturnal noise associated with bronchitis.<br />
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September 27, 2009, Sunday. My friend Irene Fogarty, Irish who now lives and works in Paris after more than several years in NYC, came over to commiserate with me. I will prepare a note on her visit when I can take a picture of her. After she left I prepared dinner (see following email with pictures). The menu was 3 little boiled potatoes (Charlottes, 4 for .43 Euros), one pork chop, .250 grams, E 11.50 a kilo, = E 2.88, green beans, .075 grams @ E 3.90 a kilo = E0.20 cents, and some slightly dried mushrooms Colette had left in the fridge, simmered with shallots, and only one garlic bud. The results were reasonable, but my taste buds did not function appropriately.<br />
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October 1, 2009 Thursday, and another beautiful day in Paris where I am more or less confined to our little apartment. Yesterday afternoon I spent several rewarding hours in the Musée des Arts & Métiers, pictures follow, looking at instruments, whole laboratories, and equipment dating from the beginning of time. The exhibit of the original airplane that Blériot built, with help, to make the first flight across the English Channel, is hanging in deconsecrated church. The airplane is soo tiny.<br />
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Part of the exhibition was a mock up of the plane with a pilot seat and primitive controls that permitted one person that he was flying and at a time to imagine he was losing altitude over the English Channel, then barely pulling the plane over a village before landing. As the would be pilot, assisted by a very pretty young girl, I managed to avoid crashing into a steeple, a silo, before cutting the motor and making a crash landing, as did Blériot, into a field.<br />
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When I returned to the apartment I was wheezing and coughing and making other unpleasant noises so Colette has insisted I stay in for another several days.<br />
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The antibiotic I am taking is made by GlaxosSmithKline France and is called Augmentin, 2 tables 500 mg each, three times a day for 7-8 days, until there are no more. It took hold quickly but the bug it is fighting is not giving in easily. <br />
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September 28, 2009, Monday morning and, after three days of antibiotics I am again breathing regularly, some of the time, wheezing less, coughing and spitting less, and have partially regained my voice, all the foregoing functions of bronchitis as diagnosed by our neighborhood physician, Dr.Yelloz. <br />
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Pictures may follow. Best wishes, Charles<br />
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1. September 30, 2009 – October 1, 2009, Monday through Thursday. Hotel de Ville, Paris City Hall, actually reconstructed in mid-19th century it is a gothic wonder (I think?). I have been on a tour of the interior and it is splendid filled with large windows, fantastic, 3-D ceilings, crystal chandeliers, beautiful floors. It formerly had an extensive wine cellar under Mayor Jacques Chirac but when the present mayor, Bernard Delonoe (with an umlaut over the e) became mayor he sold it. Delonoe is the personal enemy of Colette’s brother-in-law, Jean Curtil, because (a) Delanoe is an admitted gay, and (b) he does all sorts of things to make Paris a more livable city. For example, in the summer, he turns the banks of the Seine into a large, sand-filled beach. The sand covers the high-speed express roads and Colette’s b-in-law is against that. Delanoe had trees planted, stanchions put up to inhibit parking on sidewalks, introduced the public bicycles stands, reduced parking places and is now threatening to make Paris a toll city, if you drive you pay. Curtil takes it very personally as if Delanoe did it to annoy him!<br />
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2. The sidewalk in front of the Bazar de l’Hôtel de Ville, known as the BHV, a large department store across the rue de Rivoli from the Hotel de Ville. It is the prime example of where the sales people give the impression that they have been trained to be nasty, disagreeable, distant, and uncooperative. The outside boutiques line this side of the BHV selling anything from cheap neckties, copying keys, Normand pancakes, jewelry. Even in winter! Just before my bronchitis set in I went to the BHV to buy a cable lock for my laptop as I planned to spend more than a week at the National Library. I got it home and not for the life of me could not make it work. I called the technical assistance number for France and a pleasant person tried to work me through the process and, eventually, abandoned the effort and suggested that I return it to the store where I bought it. I did. I almost did not sleep one night between coughing and spitting and thinking about the oncoming conflict between me and BHV. When I arrived, up five flights of stairs on the escalator, over the corner where the laptop shop is, and a very pleasant, Pilipino-looking sales man, Mr. Adrien, asked if he could help! Amazing. We started the process and eventually he resigned, did not insist that I exchange it, rather gave me a reimbursement slip and off I went. French stores do not like giving reimbursements. I had to go to one station to have it reauthorized and a slip hand-written at great detail then take it, go to another floor, get another slip then go to another office for the actual cash. I do all this with a fixed and, I suspect, a silly smile on my face so when I got out of the store I felt like the smile was fixed permanently.<br />
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3.Closer to home an elegantly attired gentleman on a bicycle rented from one of the almost 300 stands, checking a map. Sorry, I had to take it against the light.<br />
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3. A city bicycle rental stand. You take a credit card, stick it in the slot, and away you go after checking the tires etc.<br />
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4. A gallery near us, large cutouts. Weird.<br />
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1. September 30, 2009, Wednesday. The pictures follow separately. Good luck. Rue Turbigo, one of our two pharmacies within close walking distance, from out apartment right on rue Volta, left on rue Vertbois, a long block past the Lycee Turgot to rue Turbigo and turn left. The pharmacy is in the middle of the block.<br />
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2. This blankity-blank laptop is up to its old tricks of swallowing messages whole as it just did with two long paragraphs about the pharmacy. The next picture is the Church of St. Elizabeth, of Hungary, I think, the corner stone of which was laid by the Medici Queen of France. I am too lazy to look it up.<br />
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3. A new little Fiat, nifty.<br />
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4. I took this picture sitting in a new sandwich and wine shop, also coffee and drinks, established on the corner of rue Volta and rue Vertbois, so I go in front of it at least once a day. Two of Paris’ relatively well-known restaurants are here, in the corner the Argentinean steak house (expensive) and just beyond L’Ami Louis that is NOT a bistro in spite of which the American Vogue claims. L’Ami Louis is where Bill Clinton hangs out when he is in Paris. This is an exaggeration. He and Hillary were the guests of the Chirac’s at one point and apparently he has been back. When he or other heads of state dine, the streets are blocked .<br />
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5. The proprietor of the sidewalk sandwich shop took this of me. I’ll try to work on his photo skills.<br />
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6. Next door to the sandwich shop is a very upscale shop of elegant but exotic dinnerware, not to my taste, and next to it is this little grocery shop. The former manager, a little old man with whom we became friendly, has now retired to Tunisia and we miss his cheerful greetings. Next to it is a restaurant that specializes in Tunisian and Moroccan food and has recently redecorated and now has cloth tablecloth instead of paper. It has retained the bar but has moved from a bistro to a restaurant because now it has fixed hours and, in principal is open from morning to late evening.<br />
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7. The sandwich shop without me.<br />
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8. Whenever a Jewish holiday comes along rue de N.D. de Nazareth and rue de Vertbois are blocked because a large synagogue is between us and rue de Temple. It is awkward for the wholesale clothes dealers but we love it because there are no traffic jams outside our window,.<br />
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9. Our courtyard, nasty.<br />
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10. Our courtyard, looking up. There are two other staircases. Our friend from Argentina, the photo director and pal of Sarkozy’s wife, Carla Bruni-Sarkozy (he did the photo shoot of her for the cover of the CD she made recently) lives on the 6th floor. He bought it almost/more than 25 years ago, no elevator. He does all his commutes about Paris on a bicycle and, if it is warm he wears flip-flops. He borrows jewelry, watches, courtière dresses from all the principal designers and carries them about on his bicycle. He is now spending lots of his time in Istanbul for photo shoots.<br />
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1. Doing laundry in the nearby coin-operated laundry place. The equipment is Miele front-opening machines that make almost no/no noise. It costs E3.70 for load, then another E2 for dryers. Colette has some pretty weird experiences there. On one occasion lady changed her clothes discretely so she could wash what she was wearing. Yesterday there was a young, very tall Australian and his girl friend, a dark Indian young lady from Singapore. The young lady wanted to learn how to say ‘tea’ in French. Colette explained in French it was ‘thé’ pronounced ‘tay’ and she was delighted with her new language skills. On several times Colette has been there when it was invaded by non-French speaking central Europeans, Russians whom took up the whole place. They did not play music or do sword dances.<br />
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The dryers and, to the right, the control board. Put your money in, it makes change if necessary; push the button corresponding to your machine nod away you go. Really exciting. Colette feels she spends most of her free time there.<br />
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3 & 4. I: There are two with shouting distance from each other near Place de la République. This is where Colette buys her antique magazines, and I occasionally buy a newspaper. I learned that kiosques carry more than 1,000 titles. I can promise you they range the entire gamut of publishing. <br />
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5. L’Ecole Centrale where Colette’s father did his engineering degree.<br />
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7. Café Leonard – one side faces rue Turbigo and this side the Ecole Centrale, quieter.<br />
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8 & 9. The exterior of the Musée des Arts & Métiers. Great place. The medieval church to the left with the multicolored tile roof is desanctified and is part of the museum. You will see more of it later.<br />
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10. Laboratory of Antoine Laurent Lavoisier (1743-1794). <br />
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11. Instructor and students. <br />
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12. In glass class that reflects making it difficult to admire this wonderful clock of fine wood, parquetry, brass working and enamel, XVIII C.<br />
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13. Super calculator, US, 1985, Leonard Cray, 1925-1986.<br />
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14. Medieval construction revealed.<br />
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15. Vaucanson’s loom for weaving façonnées(I don’t know what that is), 1748. The first loom to use cards for the design, a precursor of computer!<br />
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16. A lion wrapped by a snake in a large box, every home should have one. All made of glass by a Mr. René Lambourg who did not have enough to do with his time.<br />
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17. & 18. Aeroplane of Clement Ader, 1893-1897.<br />
The balance of the pictures was taken in the deconsecrated church with airplanes, cars hanging here and there. <br />
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This is a kiosque that sells publications and daily newspapers in many languages, magazines including the very randy (porno) to weeklies. Once, while poking around, I found a current copy of the American scholarly “Foreign Affairs.”<br />
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Fresh chocolate roll and croissant, hot out of the oven from the boulangerie up the street. Colette got the croissant, made with real butter, and I got the chocolate roll also made of puff pastry. <br />
Ecole Central des Arts <br />
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I hate VISTA by Microsoft!!!<br />
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October 2, 2009, Friday. When I telephoned Dr. Yelloz, whom I saw a week ago, for an appointment, I was informed that he was taking a long week-end and Dr. Llavas was his locum, replacement. No appointment necessary, just drop in between 12:30 p.m. and 17 h and take my turn. <br />
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Colette was off to the darkest suburbs to see a college friend for lunch so at 12:00 p.m. I left the apartment to walk up to the doctor’s office where I arrived 10 minutes later. I buzzed myself through the porte-cocheres, into the tunnel where again I buzzed the doctor’s office and hit the door, and the door did not open. After waiting about five minutes I decided that I go to a Viet-namese restaurant and have a soup and return.<br />
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Out the door, across rue N.D. de Nazareth, through the temporary railings blocking the street for Friday Jewish services day, when the light permitted (I no longer jay walk, the final ignominy would to be run over by a human-pedaled bicycle), crossed rue Turbigo in front of the Temple Métro station, then to across rue de Temple to the sidewalk, and rue de Turbigo past the Parc du Temple, crossed rue de Bretagne (that ends there and because rue Réaumur, again crossed rue de Temple, and walked a block to rue des Vertus (Street of Virtues), and left and a few steps to my little Vietnamese restaurant where I could have Vietnamese soup. This is available at Sage & Thyme in Chapel Hill but not as good.<br />
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This little restaurant is open M-F, 11:30 a.m. to 2:30 p.m. I was the second in, the sixth table nearest the kitchen, and an aged Frenchman looking like a former colonialist of Vietnam at the 5th table. The daily special was written on a black board, soup and grilled beef and salad and rice, E 8.50.<br />
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I ordered the beef soup (Pho in Vietnamese) and a glass of red wine. For whatever reason I did not have my little Canon to take a picture so you could enjoy the steam rising from the very large bowl in which was hidden, at the bottom, noodles, then some beef and beef balls, lots of chopped green little onions and a luscious odor. Also served, but separate, was a basket filled with bean sprouts, Vietnamese basil and something like parsley. I put several handfuls of the bean sprouts, a little of the basil, stirred with my chopsticks and enjoyed my lunch with my glass of red wine. <br />
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It was most welcomed by my bronchial condition and eventually all the noodles, most of the sprouts, the bits of beef, the beef balls and the soup, of course, were consumed. In the meantime there was a steady stream of incoming lunchers, some to stay, and others to pick up take-out orders. <br />
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The total bill was E 9, including 15% tip, and I generously left another E 1. I am a big spender.<br />
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Then back to the doctor’s office, essentially the same route except I took rue Turbigo back instead of rue de Temple.<br />
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I buzzed myself through the porte-cochère into the tunnel, then pushed the doctor’s buzzer and he buzzed back just as I hit the door with palm of my hand, sufficiently strong to almost knock out a person and his female companion who came out just at that moment. They left, I went in, up the worn stairs into the doctor’s office and into the waiting room. No appointment necessary.<br />
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Still no camera so I will use words that are for people who cannot read pictures. The waiting room had uncomfortable upright chairs against the wall with the exception of the space occupied by a table with magazines, of course out-of-date. There was another potential patient, a very dark Indian looking like he thought or hoped each breadth would be his last. About 15 minutes later the doctor escorted another patient to the exit door, returned and nodded pleasantly and indicated that the Indian would follow her. They left.<br />
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About this time the buzzer sounded, the door into the hall opened, and a very attractive young lady looking very well joined us. A few minutes patient joined the group, this time a middle-age male who also looked very unwell, but not dressed for it. He was wearing blue jean, a sharp looking shirt with French cuffs but no links and a heavy jacket that he dumped on another chair. There was no light-hearted exchange of views.<br />
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Silence, welcomed silence, and NO background music. After about 20 minutes footsteps in the corridor, the young lady escorted out and the doctor put her head in the door and smiling looked around indicating the next patient should present him or herself. I stood up and followed her out.<br />
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Dr. Yelloz’s office had not changed. I have never known a country practioner in the U.S. but his office invoked the idea of the overworked, underpaid but hopefully appreciated practioner. Dr. Llavas and I introduced ourselves, she looked me up on the computer, and away we went. I learned that Dr. (Madame) LLavas, whose parents were Spanish but she was born and educated in France.<br />
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She confirm that Friday morning, without the necessity of advanced medical science and a stethoscope, that the roaring she heard was not an incoming tide but my still encrusted bronchial tubes. <br />
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20 minutes later I had written my check, E 22 instead of E 28 as I did not have an appointment, took my oral and written instructions and left. <br />
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Down and out, and out to rue Turbigo and down a few doors to the green neon cross indicating a pharmacy. The pharmacist, Thierry Houcdé (Ph.D.), welcomed me by name, and in English. I am encouraging him to speak English and with the frequency of my visits to pick up new prescriptions we are becoming slowly acquainted. Once filled, instructions written on the box, no wasting time on silly printed label and I was ready to leave. However, workmen were doing their thing and had disconnected the telephone lines so the VISA card would not function. I premised to return the following day and pay my just debt.<br />
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Sunday, October 4, 2009. I hope I have the date right. Keep in mind that Paris is as far north as Montreal so, like R L Stevenson’s poem we “rise by candle light.” Sunday in Paris does not include a Sunday newspaper and as we cannot have cable TV without paying for it the whole year, the several stations we do receive have animated cartoons and interviews of worthy public personalities who seem to have a lot to say about nothing of great interest, so our Sunday mornings are not exciting. Especially when I am slowly recovering from bronchitis and Colette is taking antibiotics to combat a resurgence of her pulmonary problems.<br />
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However, we stumble around, I start the dishwasher, we make the bed, and we take turns showering and dressing. Life in a one-bedroom apartment is intimate and involves some of the same choices and challenges that I imagine you would experience trying to live on a small boat, but without motion sickness.<br />
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We were looking forward to a day in the country with Colette’s great-nephew, Antoine and his little boy, Arthur, now almost three years old. Antoine’s companion, Maureen, is a career employee of Disney World, France, more about that later, and is in a two-day training program for rising executives so the work week will be free for normal activities, and we will not see her.<br />
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Antoine and Maureen live in a little house, very little, that is part of row development that probably dates back prior to WWI. I imagine there must be more or less 10 or so houses adjoining and the first in the row is very large with a large barn. Colette’s niece, Anne, and her husband, now retired Air France Captain (long distance services) bought two of the village house more than 30 years ago. More recently a little old lady went to her reward and the house next to Anne and Jean-Paul’s house became available, and Anne bought it, converted it to two little, 2-bedroom townhouses. Antoine and Maureen live in one and Julien, the oldest son and brother of the three, lives in the other with his companion, Gwen, and their little girl, Emma, 11 months.<br />
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I shall now try to explain why I refer to Antoine’s and Julien’s female partners as companions instead of wives. In France, several years ago, a sensible arrangement was devised to permit couples of same sex to have a joint legal relationship, asa verb, pacté, I think. (Pacte Civil de Solidatarite, PACT). Nous nous sommes pactés! We are joined by a civil act of solidarity. Oh Well, work it out for yourself. But it has resolved one issue that we cannot come to grips with in the US.<br />
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It simplifies life, divorce is easier, and it has been adopted readily by the population. Colette’s nephew, more than 50 years old, professor of law, and his companion, are Pacted. But the issue of how to introduce one’s partner has not been resolved and seems to have been reduced to “companion” for simplicity. <br />
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Now about Colette’s niece, her husband (from whom she is separated) and their children, Antoine, Julian and Pierre, and Disney World in France.<br />
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As noted earlier, when Anne and Jean-Paul were relatively recently married, about 1975 or so, living in an apartment in Paris, planning a family, and Jean-Paul was still a co-pilot for Air France, they decided they wanted to live in the country with easy access to Charles de Gaulle, the airport, not the general, and so they initiated the search for a house. Eventually they found Magny-le-Hongre, a depressed village on the north-east of Paris and an antique dealer who wanted to sell his village row house. It consisted in fact of two houses that he had joined together without the help of an architect so in some respects it is not very rational. However with fires in fireplaces it can be very pleasant.<br />
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They settled in and Jean-Paul, with some free time between long-distance flights, decided to go into politics and got himself elected as mayor of the village.<br />
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In March 1986, I think, Colette and I and Louise were staying with them when the Paris newspapers announced that Disney World had signed contracts that would lead to the development of a park similar to those in the U.S. and Japan, in an area adjoining Magny-le-Hongre and 4 other adjacent villages. Obviously there was great rejoicing and excitement.<br />
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Now, more than 30 years later Magny-le-Hongre is a new suburb of Paris, Disney World has brought development, a railroad station, suburban and high speed trains service and even a boulangerie and a pharmacy and other shops to Magny and now it looks more like a suburb of Los Angeles than of Paris with stone houses, gardens, trees and paved streets plus city water and sanitation.<br />
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With this introduction to Magny-le-Hongre, the next step will be some pictures but, unfortunately, not of the little town itself.<br />
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Pictures, Sunday, October 4, 2009. At 12:20 p.m., as promised, Jean Curtil, Colette’s brother-in-law, was parked at the curb in his shiny new miniature Citroen when we came downstairs and walked out onto the street. We never thought we would see the day that Jean would drive a little car, after all he has underground parking at his apartment and he really is not a small car sort of person, but there it was, new, dangerously blue and 4-doors and small and comfortable. Now the trick is to get to the highway leading up the Seine and out into the east of Paris. He followed rue de Notre Dame de Nazareth to rue St. Martin then made a right-hand turn on to Blvd. Beauberg just as lady made a left-hand turn into Blvd. Beauberg and cut in front of Jean. The sound of crumpling fenders blended melodiously with words of exclamation from Jean, that I will not repeat. He pulled to the left and parked, and the other car did the same.<br />
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However, the lady and the gentlemen behaved graciously and you can see them completing the documentation necessary for insurance. No police were called or needed, and half an hour later we were on our way.<br />
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We arrived at Magny about 40 minutes later, and went through the little garage in the rear of Julien’s house. I walked across the grass to the little storage house in the rear to take a picture of the rear terrace, then returned to the terrace to take a picture of the little storage house. Eventually it will be a rental apartment, looks nice.<br />
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From the rear terrace you take three steps down into the kitchen. Julien had a skylight put in (The French are great for skylights and they help a lot during the long dark winter). Aside from the appliances, the kitchen is pretty much as it was as a kitchen for a farmhouse.<br />
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Antoine’s companion, Maureen, was in training so Julien was father and mother, caretaker and cook for our Sunday lunch. Gwen, Julien’s companion, joined us for aperitif as Julien had taken the baby to go to Brittany to spend the week-end with his mother, Anne, Colette’s niece. Anne is recovering from cancer surgery and is relatively immobile and at home there, in a cottage overlooking the Atlantic.<br />
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Apératif was for me, and Julien, red wine, Colette, Jean and Gwen, cold juice. We also enjoyed large shrimps and little ones as well.<br />
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It is not a very flattering picture of Antoine, real estate (future) tycoon. He and Maureen have purchased another village house that they are rebuilding from the inside while maintain the original exterior. Julien sent me pictures that I will try to forward.<br />
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At table, we have completed the first course. Julien prepared a very tasty dish of monk fish in a Mediterranean sauce rich in tomatoes, onions, some garlic, and red peppers. The subject of conversation during most of the aperitif and luncheon was Villepin vs. Sarkozy, and the nature of the dispute. It is hard to understand in the context of both the French legal system and the charges and countercharges. As near as I can figure out Villepin is charged with “calumnious statements.”<br />
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Antoine’s father, Jean-Paul is separated from Colette’s niece, Anne, Jean-Paul Balcou, now retired from Air France, dropped in fromt next door. He is recovering from a nasty case of bronchitis and was not feeling sociable. Desert was the tart in front of Jean-Paul. Very yummy.<br />
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Little Arthur (with or without the h, I don’t know) now 3 years old this month, sociable and cheerful, just up from his midday nap.<br />
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Returning to Paris in the dreadful late Sunday afternoon traffic, Jean took a short cut from the Seine road to Bastille. This is part of the Paris Opera House at the Bastille. It is about a block long and wide and, for Paris, very contemporary. Colette and I have been there twice for performances and it is striking and comfortable with excellent sound. We heard Renée Fleming singing Manon. Wonderful!<br />
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October 12, 2009, Monday. It seems every Monday afternoon, during my after lunch coffee, we have a street serenade. We forced open a window so I could try to take a picture of the three musicians, one play the accordion, one behind the 30 K street sign and thus almost invisible, and the third play the French horn, relatively well. The chap behind the 30 K sign is pulling a battery-powered tape recorded that provides a lot of the music and playing a trumpet. The combination of the live and recorded is creative but is not of concert quality!<br />
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We don’t have this in Chapel Hill!<br />
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October 14, 2009, Wednesday. Be grateful that I forgot my camera otherwise you would have to enjoy, visually only, our dinners at a not very special bistro on the corner of rue du Temple and rue du Petit Thouars (don’t ask me how to pronounce it, only a native-born French speak can do it.)<br />
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After Colette and I moved out of the apartment, walked the walk (out of the apartment onto rue de N.D. de Nazareth, turn right at the corner, turn left onto rue Vertbois, walk the long block to rue de Turbigo, cross the street, and there is the hotel), the hotel (Hotel Paris France), pulling our little wheeled overnight bags after us, we found refuge in our room 46 with a third bed we did not need. <br />
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FYI The overnight bags have a special name in French, with or without wheels. It is baise-en-ville. Baiser is one of the many verbs to mean to kiss. Usually on both cheeks, which is actually an embrassade but don’t take my word for it. A baise-en-ville you would think meant “to kiss in town.” But here there is a slight change in definition as well as intention, it now becomes a more intimate exchange of affection which may include kissing on both cheeks. Look for my book-length description of this at some future time. End FYI <br />
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Colette, not as near collapse as she should have been after putting 4 loads of dirty clothes through washing and drying at a cost of E5.70 each, was tired. After we settled into our usual room with an eye-level view into the sanctuary of St. Elizabeth’s Church, and leaving my camera and magic notebook behind, I went out for a last walk around the neighborhood to identify a restaurant for dinner. <br />
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The perception of how the French eat is quite different from the reality. On occasions that demand conspicuous consumption require a certain level of restaurants, but when fatigued or at home, the level is less demanding. So I did a survey of the restaurants along the rue du Petit Thouars without camera and without notebook. The restaurant I liked best was a bit grubby, included 3 matured-aged women speaking what must have been an obscure Central European language requiring hot tea made in the bazaar fashion. The tea maker was a grubby old French man whose many rich meals were reflected in his waistline. The menu was simple, interesting and at least E 5 less than any other along the street. The other restaurants were very chic, chic, less chic but did not offer the simplicity of choice that Colette and I would prefer.<br />
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When at least I returned to the hotel, and Colette decided it was time to find something to eat, we walked the length of rue de Petit Thouars. My choice (I kept to myself) was the La Tour du Temple on the corner of rue de Temple and rue de Petit Thouars. And it was there where we finally sat down after Colette had rejected the more sophisticated choices. <br />
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The menu was uncomplicated. Colette ordered roast chicken and I ordered the classic French restaurant meal of the French workingman, steak and French fries and ¼ carafe of red wine from Cahors.<br />
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Now I AM Sorry I did not bring my camera. The wine arrived, and it was alright. Then dinner arrived and be grateful I did not have my magic digital camera. Colette’s whole chicken leg was well and thoroughly roasted, with a large helping of freshly done fries with a little green salad on the side. My steak was fine, covered with chopped parsley, and lots of fries, very hot and crisp, with a little green salad on the side. Who, as Porgie said in Gershwin’s Porgy & Bess, can ask for anything more? The realty was as good as the impression. If I had taken my camera you would be salivating hungrily. <br />
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It was one of the better dinners I have had in France in a restaurant. Not spectacular, not great, but very satisfactory. <br />
Perhaps some time we can do it together. I’ll show you the way, and you can pay the check that was not that much, E29 plus Colette insisted on adding E3 to the tip that was 15% of the bill, and the total did include the reduced tax on restaurant meals!CharlesShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11548475957690019501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5533310574623130662.post-36355613243999755442011-09-03T12:28:00.000-07:002011-09-19T13:07:33.279-07:00Paris 2005<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left;">Index, Digital Pictures</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left;">May 2005 & September & October 2005</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left;">5/19/05<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Objects d’Art</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left;">5/22/05<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Paris</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw3sgbRTDQDIIftkQ2aUWhI_f8-mOLXNRrzqA7J2lUZz4-A5PhMwzzrUty8XWyqOAyv_cNd9t_WZxIh9ixyKyvIt7izayEnN8qf70VCcWy40YRTkXzN2kXW0UXOlzGMLIHeQwCXzhRf73K/s1600/IMG_3695.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw3sgbRTDQDIIftkQ2aUWhI_f8-mOLXNRrzqA7J2lUZz4-A5PhMwzzrUty8XWyqOAyv_cNd9t_WZxIh9ixyKyvIt7izayEnN8qf70VCcWy40YRTkXzN2kXW0UXOlzGMLIHeQwCXzhRf73K/s320/IMG_3695.JPG" width="240" /></a><span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>Interior of apartment, 35, rue de N.D. de Nazareth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The building was constructed <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>sometime during the mid- to late 19<sup>th</sup> C.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From the street you observe the large double doors<span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>leading to the interior with, of course, a smaller door for people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It would appear that the<span style="mso-tab-count: 4;"> </span>building was intended as apartments.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From the courtyard we come up one flight of stairs; <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>our door is armored and it is set into a steel frame.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When locked it has bolts that go into the <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>floor, the wall and the ceiling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The lock failed one Sunday morning when I wanted to get<span style="mso-tab-count: 4;"> </span>and almost $300 later it was repaired.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhajkiJp6TewpSvNl0msM8k35vNKMPTMB_ThSYLOlmfJpYsM39nwe3xhe6ouoIE7eoKtlu3IGhwLI08DDcQEqIlj5IlV-BIeFza7aE63goS4wIonbnKsqFeRW-iiXgmOOkVxrKkQtfZuw4a/s1600/IMG_3691.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhajkiJp6TewpSvNl0msM8k35vNKMPTMB_ThSYLOlmfJpYsM39nwe3xhe6ouoIE7eoKtlu3IGhwLI08DDcQEqIlj5IlV-BIeFza7aE63goS4wIonbnKsqFeRW-iiXgmOOkVxrKkQtfZuw4a/s320/IMG_3691.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>Once inside it is pleasant and relatively bright, even in the winter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The kitchen is <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>nifty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A good window, a refrigerator that we had set on a wooden frame so we would not <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>have to get on our hands and knees to find something as it is designed to be under the counter!<span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>The stove is fun!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One electric eye is for slow cooking and three gas eyes, a serviceable oven <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>and, surprise, a dishwasher in the bottom drawer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It works wonderfully well.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>The water and plumbing in the apartments was added later. <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>How can we tell?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because <span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>on each landing there is a faucet, to serve the residents of that floor and, much later, individual <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>systems were piped in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The toilet, in the continental fashion, is in a separate little (very little) <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>closet raised from the floor to provide space for the plumbing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The bathtub and washbasin is <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>also in a separate little room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The floors and walls of the bathroom are in quarried tile as is<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>the floor throughout.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This little apartment is very much in style because the beams in the ceiling <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>are visible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is recent. Originally they were concealed by latticework and plaster.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>woman from whom we bought the unit had that covering torn down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The down side is that once <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>exposed, the beams are exposed to beetles and other annoyances.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_45DOW6ZC-opbZWAJwVm6rJG_XEGVWwU5B9AAFn7m8XsN4PfEDPx_E5VbBNeuLZp50gdNd0HhgWWSczSTH1HYBfBedRilsMZzBTq1BjIjxLUOEbkqUZk2L2ycuXa66N6Navwni8po6kXT/s1600/IMG_2125.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_45DOW6ZC-opbZWAJwVm6rJG_XEGVWwU5B9AAFn7m8XsN4PfEDPx_E5VbBNeuLZp50gdNd0HhgWWSczSTH1HYBfBedRilsMZzBTq1BjIjxLUOEbkqUZk2L2ycuXa66N6Navwni8po6kXT/s320/IMG_2125.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq6fP7PTGzlHSoxsoKqaT-8PBTxgK4Ox6nu38nuNtqJYvgzNCulLbDAr_wrR_hjEH53IelrTcyTW9iOdoO5Wuo40XSAzyKknn-0T87Yi40OvLH-6zb9u6yVH8cDj4S-70Stc39SoQeXAzG/s1600/IMG_2127.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq6fP7PTGzlHSoxsoKqaT-8PBTxgK4Ox6nu38nuNtqJYvgzNCulLbDAr_wrR_hjEH53IelrTcyTW9iOdoO5Wuo40XSAzyKknn-0T87Yi40OvLH-6zb9u6yVH8cDj4S-70Stc39SoQeXAzG/s320/IMG_2127.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNGS2fXUjGPNu-NgISFU6ZNu_ChGyOqP_tk1Stb2kXLkiRVsIEVm6XlXhbd0q5nuPS8mxZhxq2kKPO3HzueadboeWe3SPZzwji09HuaGGE8D-sE8_xUASZ0kYKO9Cssxs9MQgCPYnZrtOO/s1600/IMG_2256.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNGS2fXUjGPNu-NgISFU6ZNu_ChGyOqP_tk1Stb2kXLkiRVsIEVm6XlXhbd0q5nuPS8mxZhxq2kKPO3HzueadboeWe3SPZzwji09HuaGGE8D-sE8_xUASZ0kYKO9Cssxs9MQgCPYnZrtOO/s320/IMG_2256.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSJvPw1gV49Fa1uuMbDOiN8wy_E_Pih0yGEtJ01ejy7e33kyyISDZfcGW0JuKQAtFc22L_DJtMKRXmwzDskZBILbvVe6Q79Or68a824Joc_4vQxMJYKYbpcl4GusnsK9mZBFFSPXcn6-JA/s1600/IMG_2284.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSJvPw1gV49Fa1uuMbDOiN8wy_E_Pih0yGEtJ01ejy7e33kyyISDZfcGW0JuKQAtFc22L_DJtMKRXmwzDskZBILbvVe6Q79Or68a824Joc_4vQxMJYKYbpcl4GusnsK9mZBFFSPXcn6-JA/s320/IMG_2284.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEfqEnW92FGAfPzYotzER4EJIAhASuGDHSWFjjhqBVBPGvn0NVHj0l7_816OBcMiF706jnY-fNiGO242d06LwmhYfT3N_xFI_tywk5PMr9iYs7DVpABbcXUBob6Psd4RJNI5NJ3b6UqJfY/s1600/IMG_3419.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEfqEnW92FGAfPzYotzER4EJIAhASuGDHSWFjjhqBVBPGvn0NVHj0l7_816OBcMiF706jnY-fNiGO242d06LwmhYfT3N_xFI_tywk5PMr9iYs7DVpABbcXUBob6Psd4RJNI5NJ3b6UqJfY/s320/IMG_3419.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>Dogs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Paris is a city of dog lovers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have one plus albums of nothing but dog pictures.<span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Dogs in all sizes, shapes and mutations, on leash, off leash, and amazingly behaved.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You see<span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>them sitting next to the cashier in a butcher shop, in restaurants, in the Metro, almost every<span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>place except museums and grocery stores.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>Fête de la Mairie.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Mayor of the Third Arrondissement (neighborhood) is very social<span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>and encourages all sorts of events.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This includes a kind of open house day at the <i>Mairie</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There<span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>are booths selling all kinds of items:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We found chocolate and coffee sold in support of small-<span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>scale producers (small farmers).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Handmade toys made by delinquents youths of Paris.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jewelry,<span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>woven stuffs, books and, of course, food.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was couscous in large quantities.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And a little <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>bar selling not vintage red or white wine.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>Musée d’Orsay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had lunch in the restaurant overlooking the Seine, sitting under the <span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>great clock.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>Paris III, the neighborhood.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was built on the site of the <i>donjon </i>in which Louis XIV and <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Marie Antoinette were originally incarcerated, then destroyed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i>The</i> first two pictures are of the <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>Marché du Temple, a great late 19<sup>th</sup> C covered market of steel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now an indoor market for sellers <span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>of coats and leather goods, occasionally for tennis for the neighborhood schools and, in the <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>Spring and Fall, tarted up for <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>the collections of <i>haute couture</i>.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left;">5/23/05<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Plates (XIX c), Islettes, east of France.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Part of Colette’s collection.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Also her <i>rebus plates.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></i><span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>These are plates with rhymes in illustrations.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Great fun over the cheese course.<i></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left;">5/26/05<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Paris (blank)</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left;">9/05/05<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Chapel Hill, Ian & Colette</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left;">9/16/05<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>RDU, waiting for our departure, more than 2 hours late and we made the connection in Boston <span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>thanks to AAL and a special bus.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left;">9/17/05<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Saturday, the <i>Marché d’Aligre</i>, the Aligre Market, one of our favorite <span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>places, a little flea market, plus fruits, vegetables outside and a covered</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>market as well with specialty shops.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Much fun.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left;">9/18/05<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Sunday, Pictures taken in the Hôtel de Ville, on the “Fatherland” day <span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>when historic places were open for free or not usually open to the public.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left;">9/19/05<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Saint-Nicolas des champs, at the Arts & Métiers Metro station. It is next <span style="mso-tab-count: 6;"> </span>to the <i>Musée des Arts & Métiers</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Great fun.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Things that move!<span style="mso-tab-count: 4;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left; text-indent: -1in;">9/19/05<span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>Our neighborhood park, the Square du Temple.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pictures of one the oldest houses in <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Paris, 3 rue Volta.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is some doubt as to its authenticity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But it looks real to us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>apartment building is almost on the corner of rue Volta, turn right and across rue de <span style="mso-tab-count: 4;"> </span>Turbigo, keep on to end.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is now a <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"></span>little Chinese neighborhood.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 4;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left; text-indent: -1in;">9/20/05<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>9/20/05<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Our little Arab (Tunisian) emergency, hole-in-the-wall grocer, rue Vertbois, next to the <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>almost chic restaurant, <i>Clos de Vertbois</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The other pictures are of the court yard of the building <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>in which Colette’s parents lived from about 1937 until her mother’s death in 1968.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Their former<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: left;">apartment has changed hands several times since the family sold it; we were told by a current resident it was a “rich young Italian” couple.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Everything going up or down had to be raised or lowered by rope.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: -1in;">9/20/05<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The bus stop for the No. 20 from the Gare de Lyon to the Gare Saint-Lazare, on the other <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>side of central Paris (beyond the Opera and the <i>Grands Magasins</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We go to the Gare de Lyon to buy rail tickets, and coming back the bus goes around the Place de La République, about two full blocks, then up Blvd. Saint-Martin, and this is the stop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From here we cross the street (at the the signal light, of course), then walk up the sidewalk to the <i>Passage Meslay</i>, through it to the <i>Rue Meslay</i>, cross it, up to the <i>Passage du Pont aux Biches</i> (Passage of the Bridge of Deers), down the steps, past the fountain (Wallace, cast iron, an original), cross the street and we are home. </div><div class="MsoBodyTextIndent3" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left;">9/22/05<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i>Le Chais</i> (wine cellar), was in the process of being prepared to be open, by an American chap <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>and his wife, across the street from the Arab grocery and the Clos de Vertbois Restaurant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>acquaintance, the real estate agent on the rue Volta, agrees with me that it won’t survive long.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>They are planning to specialize in the wines of Provence, and under Euro 10 a bottle.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left; text-indent: -1in;">9/23/05<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>9/23/05<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>No. 75 bus to the Hôtel de Ville, cross the bridge (Pont d’Arcole)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>to the Ile de la Cité, <span style="mso-tab-count: 4;"> </span>and Notre Dame de Paris, then across the bridge (Pont au Double) to the left bank, the <span style="mso-tab-count: 4;"> </span>Church of<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Saint-Julien the Poor, then<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>the Church of Saint-Séverin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The young man is <span style="mso-tab-count: 4;"> </span>Theo Murail who is the half-brother of our grand’nieces, Emmanuelle’s children. <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left;">9/24/05<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Les Invalides </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left;">9/26/05<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The Church of Saint-Paul on the rue Rivoli (it begins there), the Hôtel de Sens, the <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>courtyard of the Hôtel d’Aumont, where Colette’s family had an apartment until about <span style="mso-tab-count: 4;"> </span>1939 when a reversal in fortunes just before the war forced them to buy their own place <span style="mso-tab-count: 4;"> </span>at 2, rue du Pas de la Mule.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left;">9/27/05<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Magasin Tati, rue du Temple, and its sidewalk shop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Opéra (Palais Garnier), Gare <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Saint-Lazare, now principally the commuter station to the west side of Paris, also <span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>formerly the boat train to the channel for the trans-Atlantic services.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It has piped in <span style="mso-tab-count: 4;"> </span>music throughout, ghastly!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The intersection of Arts & Metiers where the Metro station <span style="mso-tab-count: 4;"> </span>(one of the three that we can use), and a wonderful reclining nude by Volti.<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left;">9/28/05<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Musée Picasso, not too far from our apartment, and two of my favorite statues.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Statues <span style="mso-tab-count: 4;"> </span>and pictures in the Museum.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Statue, pregnant woman, 1973; Bust of a woman, 1931; La <span style="mso-tab-count: 4;"> </span>Chaise, 1961, woman pushing a baby carriage; Tête de Femme, 1921.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left;">9/29/05<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Across the <i>Pont Neuf</i> over the Vert Gallant looking toward great department<span style="mso-tab-count: 4;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>store, <i>La Samaritaine,</i> now closed for rebuilding; the boulangerie window of <i>Monoprix<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></i><span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>on rue du Temple, near us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left;">10/01/05<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Saturday, Rue Saint-Denis, <i>vide grenier</i>, literally empty the attic, a sidewalk garage sale.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>Great fun.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Rue Saint-Denis famous for its special merchandise of prostitutes, not <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>working that <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left;">10/02/05<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i>rue de Bretagne</i>, is one of our favorite shopping places on Sunday morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All the <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>shops are open, butcher, baker, wine, etc.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left;">10/03/05<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>On foot in the left bank, from the <i>Place Saint-Michel</i>, past the <i>Place Saint-André</i>, <span style="mso-tab-count: 4;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>eventually back to the Seine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left;">10/04/05<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Major strike, transport workers, teachers, hospital workers, against proposals of the <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>government to cut benefits.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Too bad Americans are not smarter!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The smoke is from <span style="mso-tab-count: 4;"> </span>barbecue stands selling toasted <i>merguez</i>, the Alegerian sausages made from lamb (mouton) or<span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>hot dogs, served in <i>baguettes</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left;">10/05/05<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Rue des Archives is our route to the Seine, Hôtel de Ville, Bazare de l’Hôtel de Ville, and <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>the bus route coming back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Narrow and crowded, and traffic does move deliberately.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left;">10/06/05<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Rue des Archives, a little car.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Decorated truck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A shop that specializes in antique and <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>gilded clocks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left;">10/07/05<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Gare de Lyon, and the trains south, and southerly directions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It has a famous restaurant, <span style="mso-tab-count: 4;"> </span>very 19<sup>th</sup> C, we have never eaten there.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left;">10/08/05<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The famous Flea Market (<i>Marché de Saint-Ouen</i>) – fun once in while, in many respects a <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>little threatening because of the crowds, street hawkers selling cheap jewelry, pickpockets.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>There are different sections – you go through the used and new clothes to get to antiques.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>Bargains are few and far between.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left;">10/09/05<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The train (not TGV) to the center of France where my chums Brigitte and her brother, <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Gille, Renault have retired.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I knew them 40 years ago in the Central African Republic and we <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>have always kept in touch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Château d’Ainay-le Vieil is near their home in Meaulne.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>château d’Ainay-le Vieil (10 pictures), near Meaulne where Brigitte and Gilles Renault live.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>This moated chateau is still owned and lived in by the same family <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>since the 16 & 17<sup>th</sup> C.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>spectacular.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We walked along the top of the wall, no guardrail, on the interior side and no place <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>for someone with a tendency toward fear of <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>heights!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It has a collection of gardens that we did <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>not have time to visit, plus stables.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What a life! Roughly translated from the little brochure the <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>history of the chateau is as follows:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“A renaissance chateau within a feudal enclosure complete <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>with its moat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>part lived in by the owners there are souvenirs of Louis XII, Colbert, <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>Marie-Antoinette, Napoleon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The renaissance chapel has murals from XVI and XVII centuries <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>that have been recently restored.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left;">10/10/05<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Another nearby château, the Château de Culans.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Château de Culans is a fortified <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>château, purchased in 1950 and restored and is now home to the owners.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The original walls <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>around the chateau were destroyed but the chateau itself was fortified.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The towers of the château <span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>are seen from the village around one side, then the chateau, its towers and <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>walls seen from the <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>outside.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The manor house of the chateau opens into the courtyard, <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>the chapel, and then interior <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>shots.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The interior shots with the life-size models were taken on the top floor of one of the <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>towers <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>showing how the men-at-arms lived.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not fun. Note the fire in the fireplace built on top of <span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>tiles but under <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>a chimney.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The purpose was <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"></span>to heat the water to pour through the holes (<i>les <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>hourds) </i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>around the side to discourage invaders trying to put up ladders.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Look behind the <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span><u>châtelaine</u> and you will see a daylight from outside. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left;">10/11/05<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>A TER (Train Expresse Régional), very streamlined and comfortable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left;">10/13/05<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i>Château de Saint-Germain-en-Laye</i>, outside of Paris.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>just outside of Paris, the Château <span style="mso-tab-count: 4;"> </span>de St.Germain-en-Laye and former residence of the kings of France, now an <span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>archeological museum.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Colette’s father, Guy Gaudron, was an archeologist and worked <span style="mso-tab-count: 4;"> </span>here for many years as a curator of the museums of France (one of many, of course).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: justify;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>This is the interior of the courtyard and two pictures of the exterior of the <i>Sainte <span style="mso-tab-count: 4;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Chappelle</i> that is now deconsecrated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A <i>sainte chapelle</i> is one that was built to house a <span style="mso-tab-count: 4;"> </span>relic of the crucifixion of Christ.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It predates the one on the Ile de La Cité.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The picture of <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>the enormous park is not revealing of other than its size, apparently unchanged since the <span style="mso-tab-count: 4;"> </span>15 or 16<sup>th</sup> C.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The last two pictures are the moat, now dry – obviously – with little <span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>menuhin stored there.<span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left;">0/13/05<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Interior pictures of the apartment using available light.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not fully successful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left;">10/14/05<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Niort, Vendée, near where our cousin lives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Brigitte has lived there almost<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>10 years, and is in and out of Niort to take the TGV to/from Paris, but had <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>never actually <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"></span>visited <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>Niort.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The donjon (fortified tower) is spectacular. Niort had been a major port until the marshes <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>were drained. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left;">10/15/05<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Clisson, where Brigitte’s eldest son, Thierry, his wife and children live.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After leaving<span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Clisson, and about 20 minutes later, at exactly 5:55 p.m., in a traffic circle (roundabout) <span style="mso-tab-count: 4;"> </span>Brigitte rolled to a stop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We learned later the clutch cable had snapped.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Brigitte had made fun of <span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>my cellular telephone but she was glad we had it then!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She called the <i>gendarmerie</i> (like the <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>police) who, in turned, connected her to a garage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Half an hour later we were rescued.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>garage did not have the spare part it needed, so the mechanic called Brigitte’s insurance company <span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>who authorized a taxi homr.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We waited another 45 <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"></span>minutes and then had an hour’s ride in a <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>comfortable new car home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The next day, <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Sunday, a neighbor lent Brigitte a little truck and <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>she drove me to Luçon to catch my train to Brittany and a visit to Jean-François Robert.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>10/17/05<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jean-François Robert, also a friend of 40 years! Lives in a former and picturesque fishing <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>village, <span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>Le Bono, and the nearest train station is Auray.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Monday is market day in Auray and I’m big on <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>markets.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We also visited the Citadel of Saint-Louis that is a major fort that was constructed in <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>the 16<sup>th</sup> century to protect the great harbor and town of Lorient.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>is now a museum with a <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>wonderful collection including Chinese imports from the 16<sup>th</sup> & 17<sup>th</sup> century.<span style="mso-tab-count: 6;"> </span>Jean-François’s father retired as a full admiral in 1940; J-F enlisted in the French Army <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>as a soldier, so active duty in Algiers (1942) as a corpsman, then in Viet-Nam.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Returned<span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>to France for medical training at the French Army Medical School in Bordeaux (very good), and <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>then returned to Viet-Nam as a physician.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I knew him in Bangui he <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>was a Colonel and <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>commanded the tropical disease health program with which US AID had projects.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He retired to <span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>Tahiti, then returned to France.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He and his wife divorced some years ago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He has an <span style="mso-tab-count: 4;"> </span>encyclopedic memory, does not drink, loves oysters and good food, and visiting historic spots.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>His hobby is automobile mechanics, among other things.<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 6;"> </span>10/18/05<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>No pictures, but I took the TGV to Paris.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A TGV consist of 9 integrated cars (no joints) <span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>with engines at the front and back, so it does not have to be turned around.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At Rennes another TGV was <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>joined to it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Colette was in the second section, so we met after we <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"></span>arrived a Gare Montparnasse, Paris, <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>and took the Metro home.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left; text-indent: -0.5in;">10/19/05<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Paris, the window at Fauchon’s on the Square of the Madeleine, Vendôme, and the Place <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>de la <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Concorde in a sudden rain, with the Eiffel Tower in the background.<span style="mso-tab-count: 6;"> </span>10/20/05<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The Opéra Bastille, the mockup of the proposed new School of Architecture, old private <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>manor, the obelisk in the center of the Bastille, we take the no. 20 bus home and see the <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“shocking” <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>posters celebrating gay and lesbian pride day, the “Wallace” fountain, Passage du Pont aux Biches <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>across the street from the apartment, and motorcycle parking in front of the apartment.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left; text-indent: -0.5in;">10/22/05<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Street market on the rue Charonne</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left; text-indent: -0.5in;">10/22/05<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>At the German Embassy, Angela and Klaus Neubert’s apartment in the Hôtel Beauharnais.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We knew <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Klaus in Saigon (1970-72), and again saw him in France then in New York and Washington.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We tried <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>to keep up with him, and he with us, but the diplomatic mails failed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He and Angela had assignments in <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Germany, then in<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Russia, twice in Rome, the third time as Ambassador where we visited them in 2002, <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>now as German Ambassador to Elysée Palace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was great fun hearing first hand and in detail stories of <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>European politics.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The US does come off well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Klaus was educated in Rome (elementary school), <span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>Paris (Lycée Saint-Germain), Germany, then Boston (Fletcher School), so he is perfectly quadrilingual <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>plus a very good working knowledge of Spanish acquired through extensive visits to Central America <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>after his mother divorced his father, then remarried a plantation owner there.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left; text-indent: -0.5in;"><span lang="FR" style="mso-ansi-language: FR;">10/23/05<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Marché d’Aligre, Le Louvre, La Seine</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left; text-indent: -0.5in;">10/25/05<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Julien, Antoine, Pierre Balcou, the sons (oldest to youngest) of Colette’s neice, Anne.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left; text-indent: -0.5in;">10/26/05<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Place Saint-André (overlooking Place Saint-Michel), note the little balcony with a folding deck chair, <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>then Notre Dame, La Seine, the Opéra, a Passage, Palais Royal, Place Colette looking toward Le <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Louvre, Le Louvre des Antiquité, a wonderful building with lots of different antique stores, and Saint-<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Germain.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left; text-indent: -0.5in;"><span lang="FR" style="mso-ansi-language: FR;">10/27/05<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Sacre Cœur, Montmartre, and 35, rue de N.D. de Nazareth.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left; text-indent: -0.5in;">10/28/05<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Depart Paris to return to the Chapel Hill, NC., via American Airlines.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Take your own food!<u></u></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -1in; text-align: left; text-indent: -0.5in;"><br />
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</div>CharlesShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11548475957690019501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5533310574623130662.post-7355031832280036742011-09-03T11:42:00.000-07:002011-09-03T11:42:31.859-07:00Paris 2004<h1 style="margin: 12pt 0in 3pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: large;">Paris 2004</span></h1><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Letter from Paris, No. 1</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Wednesday, April 28, 2004, as the romantic sound of the <u>poubel</u>, the very efficient garbage service of Paris underneath our windows, the flashing light on the top of the truck in my eyes, our first full day in Paris draws to a close.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We arrived a week ago after a difficult change of planes in Philadelphia, running from the C terminal to the new International Terminal and - against all odds - two breathless senior citizens were boarded before the doors closed, and we were en route. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">On arrival in Paris, and against all odds, our suitcase did arrive, the last two, and then we were greeted by the “April in Paris” cold, heavy rain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Good luck, we had a taxi driver, a charming woman, neatly coiffed, who knew our section of Paris. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">The next day we took a taxi back to Charles de Gaulle Airport and a short flight to Rome.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were looking forward to a reunion with dear friends that we had known in Saigon and had last seen in New York when Klaus was at the German Mission to the United Nations. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">From Paris to Rome via Alitalia was pleasant, an excellent cold lunch was served and, interestingly enough, the three flight attendants were men not the accustomed gorgeous Italian young ladies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On arrival our suitcase came quickly and we looked for taxis.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">We were accosted civilly several times by men in attired in black suits and white shirts and black ties offering cut rate fare to Rome, Euro 15 each.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were tired of walking so we agreed, and followed our new guide to his little bus, already packed with luggage and other passengers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His English was better than my Italian, he knew the neighborhood where we were going and off we went.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So for Euro 30 plus a Euro 5 tip we got quickly to our destination.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The normal fare would be Euro 45 or more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Taking his card, we promised to call him for the return trip to the airport.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Moreno Perucci, Limousine e Minibus, tel 338 2820 554. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">With the exception of Monday morning, during our stay the sky in Rome was as grey as Paris, and rain showers were frequent.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">We arrived at Klaus and Angelica’s house in about 20 minutes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Set in a very large garden behind walls, it is just outside the walls of Rome at the<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Angelica does not drive in Rome so she has learned to ride the city bus system to the surprise of many of her German, Italian and other expatriate friends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Klaus was out-of-town for the day but would join us later at the German Cultural Center where an amateur jazz group from Berlin would be playing with food and drink accompanying it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Angelica ordered a taxi to take us into town and while the typical Roman taxi driver went with verve, unnerving us not by his speed or his audacity, normal in Rome, but his attention to the GPS screen in front of him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While we caught up on each other’s news, children, and travel, Angelica let drop that the next time we came to Europe they would be in Paris!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Klaus had accepted a transfer. and they would move in July.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We express delight, of course, as we would be back in the fall, but disappointment as we were looking forward to another visit to Rome soon.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Saturday afternoon we had planned to take a bus to downtown Rome and look for Bramanti’s Tempietto.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Klaus volunteered to drive us there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He had grown up in Rome, had most of his primarily school education there, where he had also learned to drive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He had served there after his tour in Saigon, so obviously knows Rome and speaks Italian as a native.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The trip up to the Tempietto was challenging in a heavy rain and, as we turned into the court yard the skies really opened up and we were deluged by a heavy fall of large hail.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We decided to give up on sightseeing that day and return to the house where Klaus’ wife, Angelica, offered welcomed refreshments.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Sunday Klaus drove us to Ostia Antica.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Under a grey sky and cold breeze we explored the ruins.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a fascinating look into the life and times of a commercial port town in early Christian Rome.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then on to lunch across the road from the fishing port at the <u>L’Orologia di Fiumicino</u>, via della Torre Clementina, 114, 00054 Roma, tel. 066505251, closed Wednesdays.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">It is a very small restaurant where Klaus is well known; all four tables were filled, one with a family of 12.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Colette and I had tagliatelli with a mix of mussels and langoutines in their shells, and the tagliatelli had bits of fish and shrimp. Klaus had a salad of<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The first course was followed by a whole baked sea bass, accompanied by a light, chilled white wine.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">However, on Monday, the day before our departure we took the city bus into town and we had a lovely morning permitting us to renew our acquaintances with the Piazza Novena, the Pantheon, and trudging up a hill, the Scuderie del Quirinale, the wonderful art gallery across the top of the hill from the offices of the president of Italy, to see an exhibition of some Velasquez, Benin, and others on loan from El Pardon, London, Paris and Budapest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Occasionally as our needs we required, I tried what is left of my Italian on policemen or innocent passersby and, with one exception, a lady with a tiny baby, all had enough English to solve our problem.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">After the Pantheon, tired, hungry, we crossed the Corso and into a little street that we hoped would lead to the Scedure di Quirinale.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A few steps, then to the right, and we nearly tripped over two neat little tables with chairs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We went inside the little bar, the sandwiches looked good, as they always do in Rome.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We selected two different ones, the barman put them in a grill, and after we sat down, he brought them to us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Delicious, with a bottle of water, followed by a black coffee, we then had to the courage to continue.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The little bar is <u>Wine Café al Corson</u>, Vicolo Sciarra, 60 -00186 (angele via del Corso).</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Now back in Paris, not much warmer than Rome, and we are faced with the housekeeping problems left over from a nephew who lived in our <u>pied a terre</u> for the last school year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He did not have many housekeeping skills.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The telephone answering machine had to be replaced, the telephone does not work quite right, so we make trips to renew batteries.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">However, our <u>pied a terre</u>, actually a <u>pied </u>on the first floor, is comfortable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Built about 1898-1900, probably as lower-income rental properties, with dubious plumbing and a water pipe on the landing, it has charm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The previous owner chopped out the plaster in the roof to divulge the beams, some of them badly eaten by what ever bugs eat beams nominally covered in plaster.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The kitchen ceiling is a disaster since a long, slow leak from the kitchen above it has left stains, hanging bits of plaster, and each morning finds bits of and pieces on the floor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A year ago at the annual meeting of the condo association it was agreed and promised that repairs would be made by the association; it has not be done yet.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">What we call our section of Paris is not what most of you know from your several trips here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We live in a working class neighborhood in the third arrondisement.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our zip code is Paris 75003.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Known as the <u>marais</u>, it is one of the oldest parts of Paris.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our apartment is located on rue de la Notre Dame de Nazareth, abbreviated as rue de la ND de Nazareth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Its great advantage is we are equal distance from three Metro (subway) stations, Place de la Republique, Temple, and Arts et Metier.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is a 10-15 minute walk from here to the Picasso Museum, to the Beaubourg Museum, and five minutes more to my favorite Paris department store, the Bazar de l’Hotel de Ville, and then the Seine.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Our neighborhood is very mixed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The shops on the Rue de ND de Nazareth are primarily wholesale dealers in leather work and sport fashions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The shopkeepers are Algerian, Tunisian, and Jewish.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Halfway between our apartment and the rue du Temple is one of the larger synagogues of Paris.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have only one bistro, on the corner of our street and rue Volta, two doors to the left.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Happily for us, it is open only during the week so while it is busy during the day, evenings and weekends it is quiet.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">On the corner of rue Volta and Rue de Vertbois is a restaurant, Le Clos de Vertbois, of which we have heard very good reports.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On the other side of the street is an Argentinean steakhouse that has good business, and to its right is Ami Louis, one of the more expensive restaurants of Paris.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When we are here and Chirac brings his friend Bill Clinton there to dinner, our neighborhood is sealed off from the outside world.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Of our neighbors, the most important of which is, of course, the <u>boulanger</u>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Originally Tunisian, like so many of our neighbors, he has fresh bread four or five times a day, <u>baguettes</u> are the first in demand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He also has some patisserie, and now soft, cold drinks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For the occasional urgent purchase of salad, potatoes, milk, even a bottle of wine the Tunisian to the left on rue Vertbois is always glad to see us and, after ceremonial greetings, is ready to help us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Our apartment is small, very small.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The kitchen has a window, an antique table in front of it, a small refrigerator sitting in a support so we do not have to get on our hands and knees to look for some important element of our dinner, and a wonderful stove.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The stove has three gas burners, one electric burner, an oven with an electric, still unused rotisserie and, wonder of wonders, in the very bottom a very efficient little dish washer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is no room for a laundry machine in the kitchen, much less a dryer.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Washing clothes and household linens in no problem for the coin-operated washing place is just around the corner off rue Volta.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Colette puts everything in little trolley (Thrift Shop, Chapel Hill) and she is there in about three minutes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One load costs Euro 3.50, and the dryer Euro 1.50. When she returns she always has observations to share about the other customers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Once there were about five large young men and women trying to put all their dirty clothes in an oversized washer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They asked Colette’s advice in broken French; she assisted them and learned they were from Georgia, in Russia, not the U.S.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">In a little room in the back of the coin-operated washing machines is a cubby hole where a woman operates a little sewing business.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Recently Colette was there when a young man arrived to have a pair of slacks shortened.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With little awareness that he was not alone, he took off one pair, pulled on the new ones, and the sewing lady pinned him up and asked Colette’s advice on the length.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The young man then pulled off the new pair, put on the others, and left.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">We cannot tell you much about the restaurants of Paris.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Lunch, at home, is usually a sandwich made from half a <u>baguette</u>, split in half, with excellent mayonnaise that comes in a tub that has a little Dijon mustard mixed in, and a slice of ham.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Each trip we plan an evening out but we have yet to make it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We would like to try <u>Le Clos de Vertbois</u> but it does not start serving until after 8 p.m.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But after an afternoon outside, at a museum, window shopping, household errands, we are ready to eat at our normal dinner time, 7 p.m.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Since we are on vacation Colette resists cooking in our very little kitchen so sometime during the day we make a stop at Monoprix or, preferably, Picard, to see what frozen dinner meets our imagination. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Picard is a chain of stores throughout France that sells only frozen foods including veggies, fish, meats, snacks, hors d’oeuvres, and meals.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Frankly there is nothing comparable to it in the US.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wish I could send you a copy of its catalog.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At Monoprix, an all purpose chain found throughout France, the frozen food section contains meals prepared using recipes of well known chefs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Once again the choice is enormous and decision making is difficult.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">When we need anything for the apartment or if we shop for food, in addition to Monoprix, there are several alternatives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The first choice is the rue de Bretagne; there are several excellent butchers, the Marche des Garcon Rouge, a hardware store (quinquillerie), boulangerie and pastisserie, a very refined wine store, and don’t forget florists and other miscellany plus, of course, bistros, and a famous restaurant specializing in Tunisian couscous.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">But speaking of food, no trip to France is complete without a visit to one of the two famous shops on the Place de la Madeleine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our favorite used to be Fauchon that is now upscale complete with a doorman.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, walk by it and tourists are usually looking through the windows at the prepared dishes beautifully presented.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fauchon has gone upscale with a very large picture of a young lady stretched at roof level, a doorman at the curb but it has lost the clubby feeling that made it so welcoming.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">We have abandoned Fachon in favor of Hediard, on the other side of the Church of Madeleine, very old world atmosphere, and a wonderful choice of anything that may be important to you: Wines, coffees, spices, canned exotica and, upstairs, a restaurant..<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course it also has a doorman to help you in and out of your car.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We arrive by foot from the Metro.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The service is personal and patient.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Travel in Paris outside of rush hours is easy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Metro has been renovated and its cars are bright and comfortable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The bus system is more sophisticated but I have finally learned to use it between certain points, but traffic is heavy so it takes twice as long as the Metro.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Two of the Metro lines are extraordinary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Line No. 1 from La Defense to the Chateau de Vincennes, crosses Paris.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The cars have large windows, comfortable seats, and there is no division between cars so you can see the length of the train.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The newest line is from Madeleine to the new National Library and it is quite extraordinary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Completely automated, the doors open and close without your assistance, and again there is no division between cars so you can see the full length.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The stations are cheerful, and that at the Botanic Gardens has great plants.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Friday, May 7<sup>th</sup>, I took the Metro to the Chateau de Vincennes with one change at Nation, and arrived at the Chateau de Vincennes in about 20 minutes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I returned I took the bus, also one ticket direct to the Place de la Republique, 45 minutes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was fortunate to have a seat for most of the trip the bus was very crowded.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">The Metro and bus system tickets cost Euro 1 per ride.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On the Metro you can change trains (Correspondence) at no extra cost.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With the bus system there is no transfers.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">One of my ongoing projects is documenting the life of a French artist by the name of Jean Launois (1898-1942).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His father was a cousin of Colette, and Colette inherited a number of his drawings and watercolors.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I am in Paris I try to continue the pursuit of details, not very easy, as Launois’s life is not that well documented although his pictures are relatively well known.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">I am now well adapt at using the libraries and archives of Paris.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have permanent cards to several of them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I start at the little library on the 4<sup>th</sup> floor of the Mairie of the Third Arrondissement, where we live.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is, of course, a branch of the main Paris library and although very small has good basic reference works, a collection of murder mysteries mostly translated from the English and American, and shelves of French novels and classics.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To get a card there you need proof that you are a resident of Paris which is done by providing a gas or electric bill with your name on it, and identity card, in my case a passport.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The librarians there have been very helpful in obtaining books through interlibrary loan and, on two occasions I have crossed Paris to use materials in other branches.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">The National Archives in Paris, the National Library (the Mitterrand Library), and the Archives and the Bibliotheque of the Armee de la Terre at the Chateau de Vincennes is not quite the same nut.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There you present yourself, you explain your purpose, you produce identity, and you are given a card.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The nest step is to meet with a research advisor to begin the research process.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At the National Archives the documents are computerized; when your document has been identified you are given a paper with its identification on it, and you proceed upstairs where you check in, leaving coats, briefcases in a locker, then you are given a desk, you turn in your paper with the research information on it, and you sit at your desk and wait.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It can take anything from half and hour to a day, but you can leave and return, check in and out.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">At the National Archives the box I was handed turned out to be a collection of correspondence from the Director of the Museum of the Palace of Luxembourg, from almost the beginning of the20th C.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Here were the original documents itemizing the purchase of pictures by the museum, and letters from him about his work.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Letter from Paris No. 2</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">The difficulty of a short trip to any destination, known or unknown is meeting your expectations and those of friends and family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In our case this problem is amplified by distance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Colette’s nieces live, respectively, in the south (Montpelier) and the west (Brittany).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My friends are similarly dispersed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Once back in Paris we made telephone calls to set up our different itineraries.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">My friend Brigitte and her brother, Gilles, have retired to the center of France in a little, very little, village of Meaulne. Brigitte’s family had a garage business in Bangui, Central African Republic where I was at the embassy from 1967 – 1969.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Another friend of the same period is Jean-Francois, now a retired General of the French Medical Corps and he lives in Brittany.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We agreed to meet in Les Sables d’Olonne, a fishing port, resort area, and a center for international sailing races.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The purpose of meeting there was to see and exhibit of drawings and paintings by my artist, Jean Launois.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To add to the complications, the niece of Jean Launois, Brigitte Launois Demay was to meet me at the exhibit where I would say goodbye to my other friends and leave with Brigitte Launois Demay for a two day visit with her at her home in Longeves, near Niort.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Friday, April 30, 2002</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">As part of our preparations for our trips, Colette to the south of France, me to the center of France, we prepared sandwiches, half a baguette with ham and mache for green.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">I walked with Colette to the bus stop on rue du Temple where she took the No. 20 to the Gare de Lyon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I returned home, had a cup of instant coffee, then closed the apartment and walked up to the Place de La Republique to take the Metro to the Gare de l’Austerlitz.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just before the Seine the Metro surfaces and takes to the air past the new and awful Ministry of Finance building, across a bridge, to one of the few above ground metro stations. Pulling my little suitcase on wheels behind me I descended to ground level, followed the signs and entered the Gare d’Austerlitz, one of the least preposing of the railroad stations in Paris, now undergoing massive rehabilitation to brighten it up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Austerlitz is smaller than most of the stations of Paris.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But it does not offer the variety of the others where there are shops, café/bars, ample seating areas and that make waiting for a train in Paris pleasant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">My train to St. Amand Montrond was an old one, not a TGV (train de grand vitesse).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The trip was pleasant, and the French country side was in contrasting colors of green, gold and brown.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The green, newly sprouting fields of wheat, corn, or turnips (I guess!); the gold of the ripen rape awaiting harvest; and the brown the tilled, but not yet planted fields.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">I enjoyed my sandwich as we sped toward our destination, Bourges.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Coffee was sold from a cart; at Bourges the train was broken up and the part of the train in which I was a passenger tacked onto another electric engine destined for Montlucon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>French trains travel at high speeds, even the old ones, but stop only for two minutes to embark and disembark passengers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I stepped down from the train, turn to give a hand to a spry lady even older than I am, and turned to find Brigitte and Gilles waiting for me, with Jeep, their West Highland Terrier.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">From the time I first became acquainted with Brigitte and Gilles, their parents and cousins in Bangui, they were and continue to be the most avid approvers of all things Americans imaginable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Especially automobiles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In Bangui their company represented International Harvester.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They had a Buick in France for their vacation and until recently Brigitte had a Dodge Tourister modified to burn liquid petroleum, the same as we use for our bbq’s as well as the usual gas, not that unusual in France. Brigitte assures me we do this in the US but I have never seen it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Before retiring they had a Volvo marine engine agency in the south of France; as part of their retirement they sacrificed the Dodge for a new diesel Volvo station wagon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Their very pleasant three bedroom cottage would bed welcomed anywhere in the US particularly with its French doors from the two bedrooms, dining room and living room that face the little patio, and overlook a field.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Nearby is the home of Alain Fournier who wrote <u>Le grand Meaulnes</u>, a heavily romantic novel set in the years before WWI.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Alain Fournier died in action but his novel lives on.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">The next three days included visits to the Abbaye de Noirlac, the Chateau of Meillant, George (without an s) Sand’s home, the Chateau de Nohant, the exterior of the Chateau of St. Armand Montrond, and last but not least the wonderful Palace of Jacques Coeur in Bourges.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Lets talk food for a moment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All French women and French men are not wonderful cooks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve known some who could boil water but burn it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Brigitte is an exceptionally good cook and her moules frites were wonderful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Moules are, of course, mussels, cooked rapidly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She cooks them twice, the first time to drain the salt water from them, which she saves; the second time with butter, white wine, then adds the water from the first cooking and a little cream, and it is wonderful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her French fries (produced by an American company in France, frozen: you cannot find the equivalent in the US) are excellent; she does them in an Italian deep-fat fryer and it does the work and does it well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A second meal was wild salmon cooked in “pappiote.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ll call and get the details.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was very well done, the salmon succulent, not too fishy, and the little shrimp added color and taste contrast.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Tuesday morning we were up early, had a typical French breakfast of coffee, bread and butter (croissants are for the occasional Sunday extravagance), and were in the car and on our way by 6:45 AM.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The weather was not beautiful, cloudy, drippy, but it did not distract from the scenery.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were driving west toward the Atlantic through the Bourbon country of France and the chateaux and forts are still visible at close hand, as are Roman period churches.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So much to see and not time to!</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">By 11:00 AM we were lost in darkest downtown Les Sables d’Olonne, but we did eventually find Jean-Francois, his miniature black poodle sitting at his side.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jean-Francois had a cap, a shirt open at the neck and sleeves rolled up to his elbows.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He did not look the part of a distinguished, retired, medical General of the French Army.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He said he was not cold, but Brigitte, Gilles and I were glad to have our waterproof jackets against the fresh and strong breeze, with some light rain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I would have welcomed another layer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Jean-Francois was already checked into the two-star Hotel de Commerce, 8, rue Hoche, 95100 Les Sables d’Olonne, tel. 02 51 32 02 80.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Brigitte and Gilles check in and we were ready for lunch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With some confusion, cars and dogs were sorted out, and we set out for the port for lunch. The choice of restaurants was difficult, there were many, but the Hotel<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Restaurant du Port, 14, Quai Garnier, 95100 Les Sables d’Olonne, tel. 01 51 32 08 47, was a happy solutions. Brigitte had a platter of oysters, coquillages, (little shell fish, three different types), and langoustines.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What she did not finish, we did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gilles and I had oysters, followed by tagliatelli with shellfish and langoustines, and Jean-François had a very large serving of oysters followed by stuffed ray. Les Sables d’Olonne is a fishing port, a summer resort, and a year around sailing port for the serious.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">After lunch back into the car to drive to Le Musee de l’Abbaye de la Sainte-Croix where an exhibit of Jean Launois’ water colors of his Algeria period were hung; there were also cases with interesting familyj documentation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">As planned, our cousin Brigitte Launois Demay met me there as scheduled, and after introductions, mutual interests were notified and the next half hour was a discussion of life in Algeria in 1942 where Brigitte’s mother and her four children spent the war years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jean –Francois was there as a young intern.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Brigitte and I said our goodbyes and left to drive to her home an hour away from the coast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After a family party the next day, Brigitte drove me to Niort where I took the TGV back to Paris.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Saturday, May 8, 2004, Buy new umbrella, E 7.5, Musee National Medieval de Cluny, tapisserie, La dame a l’icorne, lunch at <u>Pizza la Sirena</u>, 73, boulevard Saint-Germain, 75005 Paris, Pizza au feu de bois, tagliatelli avec langoustines, mussels, very good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Driving rain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We replaced umbrellas!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dinner with Jean Curtil, Sarkosy, taxi home in the rain.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Monday, May 10, 2004</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">9 PM, home from the library of the Armee de la Terre, the Chateau de Vincennes, where my research into the French Army on the Italian Front during WW I went ahead, but inconclusively. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The purpose of my research is to try to find first hand accounts of the battles the French Army units fought in Italy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have found some pictures in old <u>L’Illustration</u>, but nothing first hand for the period when my artist, Jean Launois, was serving in Italy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His experiences were so dreadful that he said he did not want to talk about them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The only descriptive material on the horror of this particular part of the WW I is in Earnest Hemingway’s <u>Farewell to Arms</u>, and the defeat of the Italian Army and its retreat across the Piavo almost a six-months earlier..<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">By the wonderful, open, bright Metro line Chateau de Vincennes to La Defense that crosses Paris, 20 minutes later I got off at the half way mark, the Hotel de Ville.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The purpose of the trip was to visit the Bazar of the Hotel de Ville, my favorite department store in Paris to shop for a non-battery powered telephone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This accomplished, I started the walk home, up the Rue du Temple, left on Blvd. Reamur, Right on to Rue Volta (Italian Physician who developed the battery<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>the sign under the street name reads, in French of course), and soon I was tapping the code on the magnetic pad that has replaced the concierge to unlock the doors of our building into the court yard.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">A glass of wine (biological,) while I prepared dinner and had a telephone call from Louise, our daughter in Raleigh, to assure me they were well, as were our respective dogs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I spoke briefly to Ian, our son in New York City, who gave us news of his wife, Eva, also an architect, and Javier, his father-in-law, who was visiting from Rome.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Watching the news French Channel 2 (our TV 5 at home in Chapel Hill) was depressing as more details were unfolded about the Iraq mess, and as I listened loud music interrupted the news broadcasted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I opened the windows to peer out and saw a happy man with a paper cup walking back and forth across the street, looking up and waving and, behind him two musicians.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The first a trumpeter, the second playing what looked like a small French horn and pulling behind him a battery powered tap player.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could recognize the music from the trumpeter and the horn player, but not the portable orchestra.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Only in Paris!</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Wednesday, May 12, 2004, Achives, Chateau de Vincennes, cold, cloudy day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After usual wait my two boxes were available, and neither produced anything of real interest about the Italian campagn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Home, sandwich, the sun came out and for the firswt time a beautiful day.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">After lunch and nap metro to the Trocadero and then a leisurely walk down, across the bridge to the Eiffel Tower, many tourists, seemingly as many French as foreign.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The wlk along the Seine was pleasant, cross the pedestrian bridge, taking pictures as I go.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At the Place Alma Marceau what appears to be a gold ball with wird spikes on top of pyramid draws my<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>attention.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I cross to the pedestrian island then take a picture, before crossing to the base of the pyramid to read the inscription.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is replica of the flame of liberty held by the Statue in New York with an inscription of gratitude to France.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I bed George W. Bush has never seen it.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">Thursday, May 13, 2004<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Another cloudy day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Buy and read Le Mond and The NY Heral Tribune, each more depressing than the other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The news from Washington and Iraq.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><span lang="FR" style="mso-ansi-language: FR;">Na</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><span lang="FR" style="mso-ansi-language: FR;">Hotel le Relais du Marais, 76, rue de Turbigo, 750034 Paris, </span><a href="mailto:anyl.pirba@wanadoo.fr"><span lang="FR" style="mso-ansi-language: FR;">anyl.pirba@wanadoo.fr</span></a><span lang="FR" style="mso-ansi-language: FR;"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><span lang="FR" style="mso-ansi-language: FR;">Musee Marmottan Monet, 7, rue Louis Boilly, 75016, Paris, tel. 01 42 24 07 02</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;"><span lang="FR" style="mso-ansi-language: FR;">La pierre du Marais, 96, rue de Archives, 75003 Paris, tel. 01 42 77 25 02</span></div>CharlesShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11548475957690019501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5533310574623130662.post-24331720929871014412011-09-03T11:15:00.000-07:002011-09-03T11:15:30.527-07:00Let's go to Paris!Paris, rue de N.D. de Nazareth<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1UoZXyLejxE6tAKdNpTkR4bNl5wxSbNzfIW9XS2oU04b1vADYDOhNSol80gVrPMve1gKS3GCPCbiJvMDVhL-MtnfYUrTHoqYloYnkQICcNpCcDkvwbfdC0UVzjlqtIAf8tyrWT2fFAolF/s1600/IMG_2771.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1UoZXyLejxE6tAKdNpTkR4bNl5wxSbNzfIW9XS2oU04b1vADYDOhNSol80gVrPMve1gKS3GCPCbiJvMDVhL-MtnfYUrTHoqYloYnkQICcNpCcDkvwbfdC0UVzjlqtIAf8tyrWT2fFAolF/s320/IMG_2771.JPG" width="240" xaa="true" /></a></div>17th C primative painting of dogs attacking a bear. <br />
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