Paris Journal 2013 – Barbara Joy Cooley                  Home: barbarajoycooley.com

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It wasn’t really a feast, but rather a picnic – an indoor picnic.

 

On the dining room table, I arranged olives, radishes, cheeses, half a baguette, bananas, a few slices of roasted chicken breast, a few slices of Paris ham, bananas, dark chocolate squares, and maybe a couple things I’ve forgotten.

 

Experience has taught us that the best way to watch the Tour when it comes to Paris is on French national television.  So we did.  With a picnic, in the dining room of the apartment.

 

I adored the aerial views of the palace and especially the gardens of Versailles.  We generally don’t have any desire to visit Versailles again, but seeing it from the air was a treat.  The gardens look like lace from that perspective.

 

We enjoyed watching the relaxed ride into Paris.  The approach to the Tuileries was a bit different this year – it showed us Les Invalides and the Institut de France.

 

Paris is so wonderful to see from the air.  I often have dreams in which I fly.  Sometimes in my dreams I soar over Paris.  Do other people dream about flying?  I don’t know.  Perhaps it is something that happens because of all the swimming that I do.

 

The best part was the light show at the end, at dusk, on the Arc de Triomphe.  Wow!  It was spectacular.  The occasion?  This was the 100th Tour de France.

 

Here’s a 10 minute video of the show, taken by Vincent Germain.

 

This morning I had to give the plants on the balcony a torrential dousing with the watering can.  They depend on me for their very lives in this heat wave.

 

After caring for them, I went for a walk from about 7:30 to 8:30AM, on the Champ de Mars.

 

The Champ de Mars is no longer plagued by illegal vendors selling Eiffel tower trinkets; the pickpockets and con-artists are gone from there as well.  Finally, it seems, the police and the justice system have found a way to work together on this problem.

 

In recent years, the police were frustrated by the fact that after they would arrest these offenders, the justice system would simply release them again and again.

 

Of course, there has been a political change in the meantime, and the administration of the city of Paris is of the same political party as the executive branch of the national government.  I’m just saying . . . .

 

Maybe that’s why the official entities involved are now working together successfully on this.

 

The result is a sense of well-being among those of us enjoying places like the Champ de Mars in Paris. 

 

The Champ was a serene place this morning.  I saw a man meditating.  The sprinklers were turned on in the vast lawn.  Peace. Quiet. Calm. Those few of us who were walking on the Champ were silent.  The space between the rows of trimmed trees felt like a cathedral.

 

The morning light was filtered by a slight haze.

 

Unlike yesterday morning, the air did not feel light and cool.  It was heavier, and I don’t think that was because of humidity.

 

Later this morning, back at the apartment, I checked the AirParif web site.  Sure enough, we are experiencing an “alert” due to a high level of bad ozone in the atmosphere.  

 

The heat cooks the emissions from autos, trucks, paints, solvents, and other things to produce bad ozone.  That, combined with very little or no wind, causes episodes of pollution.

 

One way in which bad ozone affects human health is by stiffening the arterial walls.  If you have high blood pressure and you find yourself in a place with a high level of bad ozone, just take it easy.  This is not the time to process a whole lot of that bad stuff through your lungs.

 

So that’s why I’m walking so early in the day, before the heat and ozone levels climb.

 

I implemented one of the Cooley cooling procedures for apartments without air conditioning.  Freshly laundered sheets now hang from clotheslines erected in the living and dining rooms, and fans pointed at them are causing a cool-feeling ET (evapotranspiration) effect.  Ah.

 

This is a good time to read.  The book I’m enjoying now has an interesting section in which the protagonist’s mother presents a narrative about her childood in Hungary, when the Nazis were taking over.  Her tale of survival and loss is frightening.  But she never loses hope.

 

This tale reminded me of my friend Peter Hilger, who has written a memoire about his years trapped inside Nazi Germany as an American citizen (his dad was in the OSS, a precurser to the CIA).  His book, War Torn, comes out in August.  He brought a review copy to church one day, and I read some pages in it before and after the service.  (Peter and I usually sit in the same pew at church.)

 

His style of writing seems just like his voice – the way he talks.  I can’t wait to read his book.

 

In the book I’m reading now, The Promise of Provence, the protagonist goes to Provence after her marriage falls apart.  There, she finds a new way of living.

 

Cynthia S. made an interesting nonfiction book recommendation, Paris: The Biography of a City, by Colin Jones.  I plan to check it out.  In an email to me, she wrote that my “description of the Arènes de Lutèce made me think of Jones's section on that -- he calls it more a memory than a monument, since there isn't much left of the original arena but it's important to remember that it was there and what its significance was. That's a theme of his -- how and what Parisians remember about their city, whether legend or fact, and what's behind or under the places we see now.”

 

Paris was also the title of the most recent Edward Rutherford tome that I read.  I treasure Rutherford’s books, and I try to read them slowly so that they last for as long as possible for me.  I made Rutherford’s Paris last until we arrived here; in fact, it lasted for several days beyond our arrival in Paris.

 

Am I obsessed with this city?  When we’re here, I am.

 

 

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Monday, July 22, 2013

 

A man meditating on a court in the Champ de Mars.

 

Scenes from the Champ de Mars early in the morning.  The sprinklers were turned on.

 

 

 

  

These two little statues are at the top of the monument below.

 

The Monument des Droits de l’Homme (Monument to the Rights of Man) on the Champ de Mars.

 

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