Christmas Windows at Au Printemps

        No great adventures this time, just some vids of store windows. These are all at Au Printemps, one of the big well-known department stores in Paris. It's just across the street from Galleries Lafayette. Oh, and turn the volume down, there's a police van stuck in traffic here, siren wailing away as it doesn't move.

 

         I think these kinetic window displays are pretty special.

        Here I like the shadows on the shades. Nicely done!

        Now, finally, we're done and walking off to the Metro. The crowded, rush hour Metro!

        If the audio is working (not sure how all this fits together yet!), you'll hear plenty of street noise. Life in the big city...

Moments, not Monuments

We rode the bus today. And why not, it was free!

To ensure the safety of the COP21 delegates, and to speed their transportation, numerous major roads and highways in and around Paris were closed to normal traffic. Then, to help offset the total chaos this was expected to cause, public transportation was offered free of charge yesterday and today (Monday), the first two days of the conference. Presumably, the no-cost transport would encourage people to leave their cars at home. I don’t know if that worked or not, but we got two free days of tripping around Paris.

The Metro is the standard method of getting around Paris. It works very well, is immune to weather and street traffic, and can be understood well enough with little practice. Buses are another matter. There are many more lines, and for some reason they just don’t seem to be as effective at getting you where you need to go. But the bus has one very great advantage: you can see where you are going! The Metro is (mostly) underground, so the view is mostly all the same, and upon exiting, you mostly have no idea where you are, or where you came from, or which way to go.

So one of our goals is to get a handle on the bus system: rather than just defaulting to the Metro, can we get to where we want to be using the bus? Two days of free travel has allowed us to explore that idea. Since after all, if we end up in the wrong place, we can just take another bus (or Metro!) at no charge.

We got an early start today (well, 11 AM, early for us), and went to the Luxembourg gardens, since we really haven’t explored the Left Bank and that half of the city south of the Seine. The weather was a warm 54 degrees (relatively; it has been cold, like in the low 40s), so a day in the park seemed like a good idea. Which it was, until it rained, which it did, just before we got off the bus. Ah, best laid plans, and all that…

It was actually quite a light sprinkle, and by the time we figured out what to do next (in something like just under an hour), the light rain stopped. We found another bus and headed towards Montparnasse. Why there? Well, we hadn’t been there yet.

We find we have little interest in running after particular buildings, or famous sites. Our goal for this trip is – and has been – to explore what life in Paris is like. How do Parisians live? To that end, we have a new motto: Moments, not Monuments! We’re looking for the moments that tell us we are in Paris, that connect us with the city and, more importantly, with the residents. So Montparnasse was just a place to go that we had yet to see.

First thing, once off the bus in the shadow of the tower (that would be the Tower Montparnasse, at 56 floors the tallest building in Paris, and hopeful the last skyscraper ever built in the city limits!), was lunch. We found a café that seemed “sympa” and indeed we did have a nice meal. As we were finishing we began talking to our table neighbor (cafes here are very small, and tend to be crowded!). John was a Brit living in Paris for the last 26 years, slowly refurbishing his 109-year old yacht. We chatted for quite a while, he gave us some tips on what to see and do (“best view in Paris is from the top of the Montparnasse Tower – because it’s the only place where you can’t see it.” – John was no fan of Tour Montparnasse).

We left the café feeling very satisfied with that Moment!

Our next bus took us to Etoile, as the area around the Arc de Trimphe is called (because the radial streets make a star, no doubt). OK, so it’s a monument, but worth seeing. We stood in the middle and looked down the Champs-Elysees towards the Tuileries Gardens and the Louvre, with its Arc de Triumph du Carousel. Except, now you can’t see the Louvre, thanks to that stupid Ferris wheel (Le Roue de Paris, installed to mark the turn of the 21^st century; now that we’re a decade and a half in, can’t it be taken down??) It’s a fine sight, really (in spite of the wheel).

Le Roue de Paris. Ugh!

 We strolled down the Champs-Elysees and night fell and the lights came on. One goal was to see the Christmas Markets, and the Christmas lights, along this major boulevard. Well, done and done. There were barricades at the end of the street; all government buildings are under heavy security for the COP21 conference. Pedestrians were able to pass, but the streets were cleared to allow rapid passage of official vehicles.

Which is to say, it was a wonderful place to walk! Many shops were open, but traffic was non-existent. And no cars – so quiet! It was quite pleasant, actually. And we stumbled upon a couple of wonderful Moments.

The Buddha!

 First was the Buddha Bar. For years we have been listening to the CD compilations they put out from the fantastic world music played there, but didn’t really consider a visit. It has an extraordinary décor, but was quite empty at 6PM -- too early yet. It’s located in the high-priced area of town, so just looked, astonished, and moved on.

Buddha Bar entry, Rue Boissy d'Anglas, 75008 Paris

Next up was the church called Madeleine. Modeled on a Greek temple, surrounded by massive pillars, at night is was a huge dark mass. But the front steps were well illuminated, and from the top of the steps was a fine view down a long, empty street to the lit-up Invalides, with the lights sharp and distinct in the clear night air. (Many streets in Paras have views like this, long straight streets with impressive structures at either end.)

View from the Madeleine with NO traffic!

 

Angles. On high.

We went inside (why not, we’d already done the work of climbing the tall stairs). The interior was not impressive in a country with the cathedrals of Notre Dame and Chartres, but someone had been at work making angels out of chicken wire.

The Holy Family and the expected donkey.

And over here, on the side, was the beginnings of the Nativity scene, Joseph with Mary and the Child, again in chicken wire, while three giraffes looked on. Yup, they were giraffes.

(A modern "World Christmas"??)

Yup. Giraffes.

 Eventually our stroll took us back into the un-secured areas, which were now in full rush hour madness. We popped down into the Metro, took it one stop and came up in front of the Opera, in all of its spot-lit golden glory. We worked out way over to Galleries Lafayette and its welcome toilettes and refreshment. Then, back into the press of shoppers and traffic to see the windows at Au Printemps, the other major department store in the area.

Once more exhausted, and much too tired to make sense of the bus map, we again descended into the Metro and caught a quick train home. Well, not quite. As we stood in the car, cheek by jowl with our neighbors in this rush hour crowd, an announcement came over the PA. There was some kind of holdup, so we could go one more stop and then we’d all have to get out. Which we did. Out of the packed car, and onto the very packed platform.

A confused looking fellow asked us what was going on. We explained what little we knew. Turns out he was from India, and he and his bride were on their honeymoon. They had spent the day at Disneyland (Europe Disneyland, just outside Paris, how convenient) and were looking forward to getting back to their hotel. Before long another train came, we all crammed into it, and we were soon back in our familiar neighborhood.

But tomorrow, it’s back to $1.50 a ticket, which means one ride out and one ride back. Which means, more walking! Which, come to think of it, means, we’ll have another croissant, please!

The Metro -- doors are closing, get on board!

Transistions

Whew, what a day we had!

We just came from the Bataclan, the nightclub where some 89 people were killed, and two terrorists blew themselves up, two weeks ago. The Sunday immediately after the attacks we visited several of the cafes and bars that had been hit. The scenes of carnage were sufficiently moving that we could not face a visit to the Bataclan. So we avoided going there. I thought about going by tonight, while we were in the area, but we weren’t sure exactly where it was so we just headed home.

Our evening started with a concert at a nearby church (Saint-Vincent-de-Paul). We quickly realized we were not really keen on harpsichord music, but the next set included flute and violin. It was nothing extraordinary, but pleasant, and different: how many times had we been to a classic concert at a church, especially one built before my grandparents were born?

Church of Saint-Vincent-de-Paul, Paris 10em

On the way out we noticed one of the side altars had been dedicated to the victims of the recent attacks. It was a sobering moment.

We headed out, night fully in force but hardly dark; Paris just doesn’t seem to get dark. Always lots of lights around (City of Lights and all that). Saturday night around 6 PM and very crowded! Lots of people out and about, stores open (typically ‘till 8 PM), bars and cafes fully loaded. We walked on.

Our goal was a Transition Town gathering at a space about a mile away. We passed Place de la Republique, full of people and flowers and candles, with media trucks and cameras still out (hoping for something to happen, no doubt). We continued on, realizing our goal was further than we’d thought!

Eventually we arrived to a huge carnivorous space with thirty-foot ceilings and exposed riveted steel girders. It appeared to be a studio / art workshop / gathering place, with little done to improve the appearance. Funky, arty, hippy-ish.

Rob Hopkins, the founder of Transition Towns, was speaking about the recently-published book with 21 stories of transition towns. (To mesh with COP21?) The goal of the organization is to transition communities from intense resource and energy consumption to a more sustainable and locally produced economy. After a presentation made lengthy by the need to translate everything into French – Rob is from England – we had a chance to eat hot soup, drink good beer and wine, and meet some very interesting people. Overall, it was an evening about people coming together to build community, and work together to ensure the sustainability of our planet. It was one of many, many meetings and workshops in Paris these last few days (and in the coming weeks!) associated with the COP21 climate meetings that start Monday.

So we finally left, suffused with a feeling of connection, and of humanity (the hot soup helped, too!). It was cold, but we felt like walking a bit more, so we passed up the first Metro stop, and a couple of bus stops that would have gotten us closer to home.

Then, suddenly, there was a block full of flowers. It was a little “island” park, between the lanes of a major boulevard. Flowers and candles ran the whole length, along both sides. Flowers, candles, and signs, mourning someone lost, or stating solidarity, or defiance (“meme par peur!” – not even afraid!).

Flowers across from the Bataclan, two weeks after the attacks

And there, across the street, was the Bataclan, the shuttered concert hall. The sidewalk in front was far too small to contain the outpouring of support, and grief, so the entire park across the way was filled. We walked past the display, feeling the heaviness, sadness, the anger. What a switch from the uplift of the Transition Town meeting! It was overwhelming. And we could not escape the feeling that we had been guided there, to this historic, horrific, site. Why? How did we stumble, literally, upon this? Why were we lead here, instead of getting on that first Metro? A bit surreal, really, how these things happen…

The Bataclan itself, surrounded by mourners

We walked on, past the police van (that will probably be there for months more), back into the current life of Paris: cafes full, people eating, drinking, laughing with their friends. I wanted to shout to them, joyously, “Life after death! Rock on, guys!”

Our French Thanksgiving

Today is Thanksgiving, the holiday celebrated in America by eating too much turkey and stuffing, with sweet potatoes and whatever else you got. To the French, it means nothing.

There are many many Americans in Paris; there have been since there was an America. So, there are, no doubt, many celebrations of Thanksgiving going on, some of which are available to the public. But Paula and I chose to celebrate this day in a decidedly French fashion: by attending the Salon des Vins des Vignerons Indépendants, a trade show of independent wine producers. We had no idea what to expect, except that there would be 1000 small independent wine producers there.

The event took place at a massive exhibition hall at the Porte de Versailles in the south of Paris. While there were several events occurring at the same time, this one was held in a hall the size of the LA Colosseum. And sure enough, there were a thousand (ok, I didn’t actually count them, but really really a lot) of tables set up, each with room behind it for two people, a refrigerator, and dozens of cases of wine.

We entered, paid out 6 Euros (just over $6US), and got our tasting glass (only the general public paid, though; most of the attendees were wine and restaurant professionals, and they got in free). And there we were, with a thousand vendors (more or less), each one anxious to have us taste their three or four best wines. Overall, it was more than overwhelming!

The Salon des Vins des Vignerons Independants. Colors represent wine growing regions in France.

Paula suggested we focus on wines from the Languedoc-Roussion region, since we will be there for almost three months next year. Turns out France has a round dozen recognized wine-growing regions, and the Salon was organized around them, with each exhibitor station color coded as to region. We had some great conversations – and some great wine – from several exhibitors. Then it was time for the wine tasting lesson. Offered by Ecole du Vin, a wine school in France, the lesson was, of course, in French, and I only caught a few words here and there. Still, we did get to sample five very fine wines, with the instructor commenting on the color, bouquet, and aftertaste of each one.

After that, and a quick break for a sandwich, it was back to the serious business of learning about wines from France’s south-eastern region. We collected a good dozen addresses that we may very well visit next Spring!

On the way out we stopped to have our picture taken, to make our own wine label…

Our souvenir from the Salon des Vins -- this and the wine glasses we kept!

 Heading home, we figured we’d take a bus. The Metro is fantastic, but it’s underground, dark and featureless. The city bus system is touring-friendly, although somewhat harder to figure out. But the bus that stopped near the convention center went by the Eiffel Tower (and eventually to someplace where we could take another bus that went somewhere near where we lived, just in case we decided to skip the Tower), so we climbed on board.

Eiffel's iron lacework

We ultimately had a nice sunset walk through the Champs de Mars, under the Tower, and across the bridge to the Trocadero fountains. But there was this incident on the bus. Paula commented on a very bad smell; apparently some of the other passengers noticed it, too. Eventually this, ah, homeless woman appeared, muttering rude curses and kicking at another lady on the bus. Some passengers got off to avoid her. Eventually she left, and the rest of us looked at one another and shook our heads. Whew! Life in the big city…

After the Eiffel Tower walk it was dark and cold, so we hopped on the Metro to get home. Yeah, us and about a thousand other people. It was packed! Ah, the Metro at rush hour! And so we stood, patiently, crammed in, as the train stopped at another station. But it was a rude landing, and we ended up a few feet short of the proper spot. So we waited, staring wistfully out the windows at the well-lit platform while the PA announced in very generic terms that everything would be OK real soon.

Eventually we moved the last few feet, the doors opened, some people left and some got on, and we continued on our way, still pressed tightly together. But we were moving.

And now we’re home and tired in a good way, going over our day and planning our next adventure. And, while we certainly miss our family and friends, this is one Thanksgiving we will not forget!