Paris Journal 2011 – Barbara Joy Cooley Home: barbarajoycooley.com

Photos and thoughts about Paris

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Secretsofparis.com, a web site by Heather Stimmler-Hall, is one of my favorites. I’ve been meaning to mention that recently, in her newsletter #108, she offered an important piece of information for suicidal Americans with chip-less credit cards. I say “suicidal” because Tom and I still believe it is not safe to bicycle on the streets of Paris. But if you must, and if you have the typical chip-less American credit cards, this you need to know (from Heather’s newsletter): Vélib' Rental Now Possible Online Parisians who don’t want to compete with tourists aren’t going to be happy I’m telling you this: anyone with an internet connection and a credit card can now get a Vélib’ pass. It used to only be possible to get a bike by paying directly at the bike stand, but only credit cards with the microchip (basically everyone but North Americans have these) worked in the machines. But now if you have an internet connection you can register with any credit card, including Amex, right online. And the site is in English. And there’s a helpline to call if you’re having problems. The cost is just €1.70 for a day pass, €8 for a week, or €29 for a year (all of them can be purchased in advance or to use immediately). Life is good! To be sure you are up-to-date on the latest useful info about Paris, subscribe to Heather’s newsletter. I highly recommend it. And it is free! Next on my list of things to tell you is that I have to give the police a little bit more credit for trying to rid the Champ de Mars of the illegal souvenir vendors. As we were making our way back home from our mid-day walk yesterday, we chose to rest briefly on a park bench just to the northeast of the foot of the Eiffel Tower, on the Allée de Jean Paulhan. Our quiet conversation was suddenly interrupted by the sound of boots pounding, running, one set up the Allée in front of us, and one set on the lawn behind us. Two tall, fit policemen were chasing someone. We looked in the direction that they were headed, and saw an entire group of the illegal vendors moving quickly onto the sidewalk of the Quai Branly, across the street, and up to the esplanade on the other side, along the Seine. The two cops, however, abruptly stopped their pursuit right at the end of the park, on the edge of the sidewalk. Are they not allowed to go any farther? At any rate, it was a show of some attempt to go after the illegal vendors. I looked back in the other direction, toward one of the illegal vendors who’d approached us minutes before, as we walked into the park. He came right up to me, offering to sell the biggest Tower trinket that he had, and I said, “C’est illégal.” He looked crestfallen. Tom said, “Non, merci.” But he was still there, peeking around the corner to see which direction the cops were going as they returned. Seeing that the police went away from him, back under the Tower, he returned to his illegal efforts. There are simply too many of these vendors. Unless the police start arresting them, nothing will change, I’m afraid. Because of the statement the Prefecture issued stating that buying these illegal souvenirs feeds clandestine organizations, I’m wondering if some of these vendors could be victims of human trafficking, forced to work off a debt incurred by being smuggled into France. Who knows? It is possible. We walked over to the Esplanade to check out an event set up there under many little square white canopies. It was called a “festival,” but it was really just an opportunity for a number of people to sell schlock, mostly. But we checked it all out anyway. Then we went over to the peaceful park on the other side of the base of the Tower. Again, we sat on a park bench to rest, and again, two cops went by us. This time, it was two women, in uniform, and on horseback. They weren’t chasing anyone, thank heavens. To chase people in this park on horseback would be very dangerous. There are too many people, so I think the horses are just for show – not really practical. But I do like to see the handsome horses. Our evening consisted of another simple, good brasserie dinner at Le Bistro du Quinzieme on the Place Étienne Pernet. Nothing elaborate: duck breast slices in a light ginger sauce and green beans for me, rib steak with béarnaise sauce and sautéed potatoes for Tom. We shared a delicious crème brulée for dessert. Since the servers there speak only French with us, I had no idea of their English speaking abilities. But a group of six young Asian women (probably Chinese) came into the bistro and sat at the far end of the dining room. The female server seated them, saying a few words of English. But it was the male server who painstakingly and with very good humor explained the entire blackboard menu to the young women. The female server’s English was better, but the male server had the confidence (and maybe the motivation?) to carry this off. I greatly admired his efforts, his theatrics, and his good cheer. The young women were not casual and quick in their decisions. They asked lots of questions, pointing often to this or that on the blackboard. It was a learning experience for them. One of them was delighted that the chicken came with rice. Another was captivated by the large, smoked glass mirrors on the dining room’s longest wall. Most people dining there were out on the terrace, because it was a pretty nice evening. We like to be inside, away from the cigarette smoke. At home, I caught up on the past couple days of the French newspaper, including the news about the tragic event in Norway. We were surprised to learn that the accused has a father living in the south of France. It is all so very sad. The father, a retired former diplomat, is “under shock.” He remembers his son as a withdrawn boy who was not interested in politics. He hasn’t seen his son since 1995. He learned about the tragedy from the media. I was surprised to learn, from Le Parisien, that in the legal system in Norway, the longest sentence that Breivik could receive for these murders is 21 years in prison, renewable by five years at a time if the experts think he is still dangerous. The immediate impression I had of the photos of Breivik that were in the French newspaper is that it is surprising how much he looks like Julian Assange, who I guess is still fighting extradition to Sweden. Back to Paris – in our walk two days ago, I took a photo of a restaurant called La Billebaude on the rue de l’Exposition in the 7^th arrondissement, just because it is one of thousands of examples of that charming Parisian storefront that I love so well. Tripadvisor.com now tells me that this is probably a very good restaurant for us to try. So I’m putting it on the list. Stay tuned. Also on this little street is the Romanian Embassy. I’ve been stunned, while walking both along this street and especially along the other side of this embassy’s grounds, on the avenue Bosquet, at how grand it is and what a large, enclosed garden it has. This building must have a story behind it, I thought. I found this web site which has interior photos – gorgeous! I hope it is open on Heritage Days in mid-September. The site informs us that the embassy is in “the former Hotel de Béhague, home of the countess Martine de Béhague (said to have been one of the maitresses [mistresses] of Napoleon III).” She inherited a house facing rue Saint Dominique from her parents, and then had the property redeveloped in the 1890s and early 1900s into the grand palace that it is. The place was sold to Romania for its embassy in 1939. Discoveries like this illustrate why I need to be in a big city like Paris, which is full of mysteries and wonders to discover. All I need to do is walk out the door and wander with my camera. A little village simply would not do – not for me. Besides, we mostly live in a village in a swamp in Florida. The big city is what we need in the summer. Sign my guestbook. View my guestbook. Note: For addresses & phone numbers of restaurants in this journal, click here.

Tuesday, July 26, 2011 Interior of the Bistro du Quinzieme on the Place Etienne Pernet in the 15^th arrondissement. We saw this tough guy pick up his cute little dog, give him a kiss, and then put him into his custom-made plexiglass cushioned box on the back of his motorcycle at the market under the elevated train at the boulevard de Grenelle on a Sunday morning. The beautiful horse we saw the other day was working again in front of the École Militaire. Mounted police patrolling on the Allée Léon Bourgeois in the park on the southwest side of the Eiffel Tower. La Billebaude, on the rue de l’Exposition, 7^th arrondissement. Seafood restaurant on the rue de Grenelle, which was once a country road leading from Paris to the swampy village of Grenelle – our neighborhood. ← Previous Next →