Paris Journal 2012 – Barbara Joy Cooley Home: barbarajoycooley.com
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We had the day to ourselves yesterday, and we enjoyed it quietly by going out in the afternoon, after working at the computers, with our shopping bags in hand. We strolled up the calm rue du Theatre to the lovely, modernized Franprix on the rue de Lourmel to buy Italian morning espresso – a brand that we cannot find at the nearby “Diabolique” – and other goodies. We were impressed by how uncrowded and peaceful the neighborhood is, now during this perfect month of August. Back home, I speak of “the peace and quiet of hurricane season.” Here, I speak of “the peace and calm of Paris in August, without so many frenzied Parisians.” With our bags full of really good things from Franprix, we strolled home, pausing to buy a baguette from the bakery that is nearest to “our” apartment. A sign on its window announced a change in ownership. We liked the previous owners very well, but this new owner was even nicer, even more upbeat, even more welcoming and appreciative of us as potential regular customers. And the bread was better than ever. Still warm from the oven, it was just the snack we needed when we were finished putting away our purchases. In the evening, we went up for a walk toward the Champ de Mars, but we walked mostly along the elegant street that parallels its southwest side. It, too, was very quiet and calm. While this street is mostly expensive residential property, there are also a few embassies and elegant government offices discreetly housed here and there in the grand Haussmannian buildings. I was charmed this time, in particular, by a carving of cherubs with their legs dangling over the front entrance to one building, which turned out to be the embassy for the Czech Republic. The street ends near the Eiffel Tower, where the Champ de Mars widens, seemingly to accommodate this “Grande Dame.” So at that point, we entered the park. We were surprised to see a horse grazing by some rose bushes in a green area that was enclosed by a very low fence. The fence was not a real obstacle to this horse, but a symbolic one that seemed to work perfectly well to contain him. The horse was not interested in going anywhere; he simply wanted to chew on the grass by the pretty pink rosebushes. The human operators of horse-and-buggy tourist rides were resting not far away, and the buggies were covered by tarps. Done for the day. About to go home, to greener pastures. We, too, began to think about dinner. After walking up to a break in the trees where we could admire the Tower, we decided to stroll back down the avenue de Suffren, thinking we’d end up around 8:30 or so in front of La Gitane, one of our favorite Parisian restaurants, located on the avenue de la Motte-Picquet. On the avenue de Suffren, we passed a homeless man in thick, long dreadlocks. Tom wanted to give him something, but we had no change. So he gave him a 5-euro note. I think the man was stunned by this. That reminds me – a day or two before, when we were walking up the busy rue du Commerce, we passed a woman sitting on the sidewalk. But she did not ask for anything. Still, we realized when we had just passed her, that she is a mendicant we recognize from the neighborhood – a woman we’ve seen here for years. She has aged tremendously. When we first saw her 14 years ago, she was more youthful looking, and slimmer. But she was clearly crazy. She lived in some fantasy world. I think she is a schizophrenic. In the years following, she’d be different from time to time. Sometimes she was taking her medication, and she’d be quite subdued. Sometimes she’d be off her medication, and she seemed to float around in a dreamlike state, babbling happily and nonsensically. The past few years, she’s been on her medication, and we haven’t seen her as often. But she was there the other day, sitting on the busy sidewalk, and Tom asked if I wanted to give her something. I said yes, I do. He gave me a 2-euro coin, which I took back and handed to the woman. She smiled and said “merci, madame.” I just smiled, closed my eyes briefly, and bowed my head slightly. I admire her courage. We went on our way. She dresses like a child of the 60s. She is about my age, I suspect, but the medication or something makes her look and seem older. We consider her to be one of our neighbors. Just before we arrived at La Gitane last night, my smartphone rang. I handed it over to Tom, because I thought it was his son Dan calling. But the caller was Elisabeth, our friend in the 6th. She wanted some suggestions of restaurants in our area where they could take friends who’d soon be arriving from New York. Ah, New York, New York. The publisher there is still ahead of us in this phase of the production of the 8th edition of The Norton Sampler, and so we spend days in front of the computers, and it is only the evening adventures that I have to tell you about. As Tom was finishing his conversation with Elisabeth, I greeted the patronne, Corinne, and asked if she had a table for two available. A l’intérieur, she replied. I said, “D’accord, merci.” Although it was a lovely evening, we do not want to sit outside because that’s where the smokers are. So we were seated at one of the last remaining tables, in the center of the dining room. The restaurant was very busy. Near us was one of those extraordinarily well-behaved and well-groomed little Parisian dogs, dutifully sitting under his master’s chair, until finally he just had to sit out a bit farther, where he could see what was happening. Miraculously, nobody stepped on him. La Gitane is one of the few restaurants that includes a little ceramic dish of butter in the bread basket. We were grateful for this, because we were hungry. We shared a starter course, the carpaccio of artichoke hearts – a perfect summery dish that I have come to adore. We both ordered the fish special of the day, the dorade filet, which arrived on a delicious pile of ratatouille topped by a serving of perfectly cooked green beans. Tom, who does not order dorade as frequently as I do, said, “You know, this really IS a very fine fish!” Yes, I know, it sure is! Dessert was too much for me to even consider, but Tom ordered a café gourmand, which arrived with three miniature desserts, including a small pot de crème that he liked very much. By the time we left, Corinne wasn’t so busy, and she gave us a very nice smile and farewell as we departed. The walk home was pleasant, except that we did see some very drunk people along the way. Well, they were certainly having a good time – until the hangovers set in. A group of about eight businessmen were leaving the Café du Commerce restaurant as we were about to round the corner to go home. They’d obviously had a very successful, fun dinner. Their goodbyes to each other were convivial and warm. For some reason, that made me feel good – that good things were happening all around, right in our neigbborhood, nearby. People were happy. Life is good. |
Friday, August 3, 2012
Decoration
on the Czech Republic embassy.
Horse
grazing on the Champ de Mars.
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