Paris Journal 2015 – Barbara Joy Cooley Home: barbarajoycooley.com
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Taking the high-speed train from Paris to Amsterdam and back is something we plan to do sometime. The news about the shooter on yesterday’s train (Amsterdam to Paris) stunned us. We’re extremely grateful to the three young American men (two soldiers, one civilian) and one British man who thwarted the attack by subduing the gunman. We’ve often wondered why there is such good security on the Eurostar train between Paris and London, and practically no security for the other high-speed trains to major European cities from Paris. Perhaps that will change now. (For the Eurostar, bags are x-rayed and people go through metal detectors.) We’ve seen a few more soldiers with rifles patrolling in places like beneath the Eiffel Tower, but generally, the security situation doesn’t seem much different this year than in the recent past. The day before yesterday, when we were walking along the path at the edge of the Champ de Mars as the crews were removing equipment from the August 19 Secours Populaire Francais event, something happened that reminded me of a phenomenon I’ve been meaning to mention in this journal. It comes to mind because of the false news story promoted by Fox News and others earlier this year, claiming that there are “no-go” zones in Paris – places that the police refuse to patrol and where they won’t respond to calls. The false story was de-bunked, thank heavens. But I realize now that one of the reasons it arose to begin with is that so many of the routine police patrols in Paris seem to be done by plainclothes policemen in unmarked cars. We’ve noticed this for a number of years. Because patrolling police aren’t so readily recognizable, some people probably do believe they aren’t present at all. We’ve seen them in action, however. We know they’re there. Several years ago, as we walked down the avenue Lowendal (7th arrondissement), we noticed four sizeable men jump out of a subcompact car, rather suddenly. They were brandishing badges. Two of them apprehended two Roma girls who were attempting to rob a woman who’d just used an ATM at a BNP Parisbas bank. The other two stood watch for accomplices. The two girls were taken away when another vehicle pulled up. The thieves didn’t realize they were being watched closely by these guys in the little car parked nearby. I’ve frequently noticed what I believe are plain clothes police hanging out at the intersection of the avenue de La Motte Picquet and the boulevard de Grenelle, where there is a busy metro station and elevated tracks. And the day before yesterday, as we walked along the barricaded edge of the Champ de Mars, a man came running toward me as fast as he could. I stepped to the side to let him pass. Then another man came running after the first man. This second guy, in an ordinary looking pullover sweater and baggy jeans, was holding a badge. One of the security guys in the Champ indicated to him that the perpetrator went that way, pointing toward the one who’d just passed me. I guess the runner was a pickpocket (he was carrying a bag of some kind) and he was being pursued on foot by a plain clothes policeman. I hope the policeman caught the perp, but the perp seemed to be in better physical condition. I think these plain clothes police are around almost all the time. And we do not often see police in uniform in Paris – unless they’re on horses, bicycles or motorcycles. The police must have decided that undercover is the way to go. Our dinner last night was at a place we’d not tried before. It was in the far outer reach of the 15th arrondissement, not far from the Parc André Citroën and consequently, near some housing projects. The streets were dark by the time we left dinner, so my urban antennae were up and at full attention. We chose a slightly longer route home, just to stay on the busier and more familiar streets most of the time. Not every dinner is a huge success. Last night’s certainly wasn’t. The restaurant was called La Cantine, on the rue Balard. The food was merely good, not great, and it was overpriced (even with the Lafourchette.com discount) for what it was. The service was comically unprofessional, compared to the night before at Le Café du Commerce. And the lovely dinner at Le Café du Commerce (with no discount) was actually less expensive. One of the servers last night kept shouting orders back at the kitchen staff – sort of like those Kosher deli scenes in the old Saturday Night Live programs. That server was always near our table when he was shouting. But La Cantine was nothing to crow about. |
Saturday, August 22, 2015
One of the
oriental carpet stores in Le Village Suisse.
Notice the terrazzo floors, which I associate with the 1960s. However, I think Le Village’s current
buildings were built in the 1970s.
My main
course at La Cantine was a previously frozen tuna
steak and a version of ratatouille.
Tom’s was almost overcooked prawns and bland rice with a few steamed
veggies. The starter course was a
simple couple of roasted tomatoes stuffed with mushrooms, ham bits, and
cheese.
Our shared
dessert was a previously frozen “mi cuit” of chocolate cake in a pool of crème anglaise
with a touch of raspberry sauce. |
