Sunday in Paris

OK so it's actually a hot, sticky and overcast Tuesday morning in Paris.

Anyway, this past weekend we settled into our apartment, our neighborhood and our life here in the 11th arrondissement. We have a wonderful space on the fourth floor with the coolest of staircases, gently sweeping you up in a graceful arc, floor after floor (how do they make risers like that I wonder?). And the hall is so bright and full of light. Not at all like our last place on rue Poliveau which was five floors (it's amazing what a difference one floor makes) and the stairs tended toward a persistant darkness. But this apartment, like the one on Poliveau, is also cozy and comfortable, with the added benefit of being filled with fascinating books on art, architecture, history and the wonders of Paris. And like Poliveau there is also compelling artwork: here every evening we dine with a woman relaxes fully clothed and in riveting red shoes on a small bed, reading, quite oblivious to us, unlike her neighbor, a young officer it would seem, somewhat gaunt in appearance and fastidious in dress who just contemplates each of our meals carefully. And the two colonial soldiers, one Morocccan and one Algerian, looking lost and forlorn, so far away from home. . . (photo above: Jardin du Luxembourg.)

It is quiet here, in the building and in the neighborhood in general, at least at night. We really never hear anyone in the building, above, below or on either side and the noise outside is only experienced during the day and early evening. Just as it was on rue Poliveau the night is eerily quiet, as if all Paris has agreed to one giant compromise of silence.

But it is half past six now, Susan left for the Metro and the streets are just now starting to come alive.

While the weather has turned a bit sour this past weekend was quite nice in Paris.

On Saturday Susan went in to Pascal's for a couple of hours to work. Her had asked her to come in and bake some "American cookies" and brownies for his shop and so off she went. I, on the other hand, went to Pere Lachaise cemetery to locate the grave of Marcel Marceau who recently passed away here in Paris. (photo below.)

After a leisurely morning of coffee and home-baked treats on Sunday we strolled to the Bastille where we took the no. 1 Metro to the Gare Austerlitz (a short ride to be sure). We exited the Metro and walked along the Siene toward Notre Dame, an idea shared by probably half of the city's ppopulation! On such a beautiful day who could blame us all for wanting to be out, basking in the glory of the sun and the peace that is (usually) Paris.

At Notre Dame we left the Seine and returned to street level, heading for boulevard Saint-Michel, following it uphill and away from the river, toward the Sorbonne and, our goal, the Jardin du Luxembourg.

We first stumbled on the Luxembourg gardens in May of 2006, on another beautiful Sunday afternoon in fact. And today was no different: the gardens were packed with people, young and old, couples huddled together sharing secrets, or individuals sitting catching as much of the sun as possible before winter sets in, children racing around the large pools trying to keep up with their little rented sailboats. University students sharing an impromptu meal with each other as they discuss who knows what?

After strolling back to blvd. Saint-Michel we stopped and had a bite of lunch at a sidewalk cafe, not realizing that we choose the one favored by the fans of Irish rugby team. But no matter it was a gorgeous day to be out and eating the French version of the open-faced grilled cheese (croque monsieur).

We finished lunch, paid the bill and resumed our stroll, this time over to the Rennes Metro stop where we hopped on the no. 12 heading for Place de la Concorde. As we left the train we experienced a brief few moments of conseternation over which exit to take (very important consideration at some Metro strops) but we soon found our way to the English-language book store, W. H. Smith, on rue de Rivoli. We browsed for a while, along with several thousand other folks of like minds, and after leaving the store, crossed the rue de Rivoli and strolled through the Tuileries to the Louvre.
We skipped going into the Louvre although the underground shopping complex at the Carrousel du Louvre was open, and crossed back to the rue de Rivoli where we got on the no. 1 to the Bastille. We then retraced our steps to the Place Leon Blum and home.

That evening we met up with friend Diane for dinner at Chez Omar, in the 3rd arr., for couscous and lively conversation. The food was good with service to match and we also appreciated that they, like a growing number of Paris restuarants had set aside a non-smoking area. Of course the handwriting is on the wall. . .

After dinner we said au revoir to Diane, hoping to get together one more time before she leaves the middle of October. It was such a nice evening and not a long walk home we decided to stroll and so we did, taking blvd Voltaire down to Saint-Ambroise and then cutting a block over to our street and apartment.

Not a bad way to spend a Sunday we thought.

Wish you had been there,

Steve