Paris Journal 2011 – Barbara Joy Cooley Home: barbarajoycooley.com
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I almost slept through the fireworks! I don’t mean to whinge or whine here, but by way of explanation, the post-traumatic stress thing kicked in last night and I just had to go to bed early. Miraculously, I woke up, however, right at 11PM. Tom was at his computer, having completely forgotten the fireworks. I flung open the bathroom and kitchen windows, and we waited for just a minute or two until the fireworks began. That minute or two seemed like 30 to me because I was struggling to wake up. The fireworks were just fine. So then I could go back to bed, where I slept so deeply that I did not hear any of the many, loud drunken revelers outside until a little after 4AM. 4AM is when the firemen’s party ends (having begun at 9PM). In the 15th arrondissement, our firemen host a party on both the eve of Quatorze Juillet and on the night of the holiday. The firehouses in most arrondissements host a party, too, on at least one of those two nights. There are also a couple “popular balls” hosted by the City of Paris. Anyone can come to any or all of these parties, unlike the picnic in white. We did go once to our local firemen’s party, years ago, but it is really a chance for the locals to get drunk inexpensively and relatively safely. We didn’t stay for long that night, as I recall, but I’m glad we did go just to see what it was all about. So the drunken revelers were without a party place after 4AM, and they made some noise in the streets all right, including setting off little firecrackers. But the chaos soon subsided, the revelers went home, and sleep returned to me. A very deep, intense sleep it was. Wow. This morning I’m having fun thinking about all my relatives who are using our house back in Florida. They had a potluck there last night. My younger brother supervised my nephews at the barbeque grill. We went out for a somewhat long walk through the heart of the 15th arrondissement, taking in the St. Lambert Park, the square in front of the stately town hall, the Place Adolphe Chérioux, rue Blomet, rue Convention, and avenue Félix Faure. On Blomet, we passed what certainly must be a convent, and also a place that is now a private surgery and radiology inpatient/outpatient clinic that must have once been part of the convent or abbey. The medical facility complex is enclosed in old walls, and includes grounds with greenery and trees, as well as a gothic chapel with gorgeous looking windows. I’m hoping that this will be open for us to see on Heritage Days in September. Dinner at Le Tipaza on avenue Emile Zola was both good and bad. The steaks we ordered were amazingly tender and good – top notch, by any standard. My green salad was fresh, although the vinaigrette was just some ordinary grocery-store variety. Tom’s fries were horrible. These were the worst fries I’ve ever seen or tasted. They were soggy, and I suspect had been re-heated in a microwave. Horrors. But there is a new server at Le Tipaza – a young woman who must have been raised in a restaurant family. She was right there, doing exactly what needed to be done when it needed to be done, with a nice little smile. If we asked her to take the fries back to the kitchen, she would have done so without any problem. But we decided that the steaks were so good that we’d just ignore Tom’s fries. I shared my generous helping of salad with him instead. Mohammed didn’t arrive at the restaurant until we were well into our dinner. Once again, his attention was absorbed by his smartphone. Instead, I think maybe he needs to take a look at the fries coming out of the kitchen. We did exchange greetings and thank you’s with him as we left after paying the check. Smartphone distraction is an epidemic on the streets of Paris these days. As we walk, we have to be mindful of the zombies who are staring down into their smartphones and not looking where they are going. Most of them are young women, but not all. It is amusing. A bit of history about that private clinic on the rue Blomet, translated from its web site: Founded in 1888 by
the Community of the Sisters Sainte Marie of the Family, the Clinic is in a
magnificent park of 5,000 square meters, in the heart of the 15th
arrondissement. Since thirty-some
years ago, different modernization programs have taken place. The Clinic today has ultra-modern
technology. The original structure has
been maintained and benefits from a natural space in the heart of Paris, offering
a restful environment. What’s more,
the interior facilities have been conceived in a manner to provide comfort,
conviviality, and functionality. Sign
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Friday, July 15, 2011
This is the back of the firehouse in the 15th
arrondissement. It looks over the Parc
Violet. The former home of an early 19th
century property owner and developer Jean-Léonard Violet, it is called a
“chateau” by some. The structure
surrounds a courtyard, which is where the fireman hosted their parties last
night and the night before.
A fine apartment building on the Place Violet.
A cobbler’s shop window on the avenue Félix Faure. The sign says: Here, waxing – polishing of your shoes. Below, a photo of the inside of the church at the
Clinique Blomet, from its web site.
Photos of the park within the walls of the Clinique Blomet can be found here. |
