We spent the week between Palm Sunday and Easter in Paris. This was my third trip to Paris. The first was in 1979, at the end of my post-college hobo expedition when I discovered just how much time in Europe you could squeeze out of a Euro-rail pass, a youth hostel card, and $1000 (answer: about two months.). I stayed nearly a month in Paris on that occasion. It was the final stage in my journey and it was where I finally learned how to stay still long enough to connect with a few people. Thirty-one years is not an especially long time, but I can only remember a few specifics from that trip. I cannot remember where I stayed, for example. I do remember that my room was infested with mice, and that I was able to deny them entrance by stuffing a rain poncho into the small hole they were using to come and go.
My second trip to Paris was in 1990 and it was my first trip with Jonetta. I have very nice memories of that trip.
This year we arrived on March 27, and the weather was not good but we’re used to that. “April in Paris” is probably only relevant to the latter part of the month. Jonetta found an apartment rental on the Rue de Vielle de Temple, in the Marais, which is a very old quarter in the northeast of the city. The apartment was in a 17th century “hotel,” back when that meant “rich man’s house” rather than “rental accommodation.”
Since Louis is studying French, and had never been to Paris, we were determined to hit all the key sites and attractions. So between the weather and the trekking around to museums and monuments that I’d already visited twice before, I have to admit that this trip had a certain tediousness to it. But there were always surprises and wonders lurking around the corners. The overall effect is kind of hard to describe—an interplay of high expectations being dashed and then low expectation being exceeded. The Marais and all the northeast quadrant of Paris has all sorts of cool stuff. The inner part is the 3rd arrondissment which is one of the oldest sections of Paris. Today it’s a maze of twisty old crooked lanes full of interesting restaurants and shops. It’s like the “old quarter” you find in most European capitals, which is often synonymous with “the Jewish Quarter.” That was true of the Marais as well. Beyond the Marais was the 10th arrondissment, which has no tourist appeal yet is quintessentially Parisian. We went out there a couple of times and always found interesting stuff. Just about any street in Paris is worth a visit.
The typical day was that Jonetta would go out for baguette and croissant in the morning. Then we’d walk for several hours, visiting museums, stores, parks, and neighborhoods, dodging showers. Then we’d get back to the room footsore at four and read for a couple of hours. We had no computer—Louis forgot the power source for his Mac—so we all did a lot of reading, which was cool. Then around 8:00 or 9:00 (whenever it stopped raining) we’d venture out for dinner. Most of the time we ate right in the immediate neighborhood—no lack of options.
In Brasserie Stella. Jonetta and I have fond memories of visiting this neighborhood establishment in 1990--we still have the ashtrays we stole. I remember a big bustling tiled room. Instead we found an intimate wood-paneled room. Probably a case of defective memory.
Part of Marie Antoinette's faux country village on the outskirts of the Versailles estate. The intent was rather benign--to recreate the world of 'real' people. But it just fed the mad rage of the population that would culminate in revolution and execution. The ultimate French tea party.
Parisian sidewalk glyph, in Montmartre. Curbez votre chien
We had lunch here without realizing that it was the cinematic workplace of Amelie, from the unbearably cute movie of the same name.
Louis in the Louvre.
