You may recall the story of the Pont des Arts in Paris. Couples would attach padlocks to the wire grates on the bridge to signify their love. Unfortunately, the weight of the padlocks caused several of the bridge railings to crash into the Seine. I wrote about it in this post. This is what the bridge looks like today:
The Pont des Arts, Paris, Easter 2022.
If you look carefully at the lower left corner of the photo, you’ll see some renegade locks. In addition, some lovers have attached their locks to a cable headed to a street lamp over the quay. Others have found other bridges or structures to affix their locks. Proof positive that love will find a way.
Easter is a big deal in Paris. It’s a religious holiday, and the kids are out of school tomorrow. Today’s a big deal for me as well, as it was 40 years ago today when I was nearly killed in an auto accident. Most years the day goes by without my remembering, but this year was different. Maybe it was the juxtaposition with Easter.
After breakfast at the apartment, we headed toward the Eiffel Tower. First stop was Notre Dame. We heard bells ringing. Since it was unsafe for mere mortals to go into the towers, we were puzzled. It was a carillon on wheels.
Have bells, will travel. At the time I took this picture, the chimes master was playing “Stormy Weather”.
We walked along the quay on the Left Bank for a while. We found a Muscle Beach of sorts on the riverbank below the Musée d’Orsay. A yoga class was in swing, some people were boxing, and others were doing strength training.
Lunch was at the Bistro PTT on Rue Cler, near where we stayed on our last two visits. An oyster shucker was hard at work on the sidewalk. A French bulldog discovered the bucket full of empty shells and dove in. The dog was obviously a regular, as it came into the restaurant and visited us.
It was quiet when we left the apartment. Not so when we got back. Every Berthillon ice cream stand had a long line. We went to Sacha Finkelsztajn to get sandwiches – chopped liver for Julian, pastrami for me. Because it’s Passover, our sandwiches were made on Matzoh bread – matzoh meal reconstituted and baked. Very heavy. The pastrami was good. Not quite a traditional Easter dinner, but it worked for us.
Doing laundry is inevitable on a lengthy vacation. While having a washer and dryer in a rental apartment seems to be the ideal situation, French home laundry appliances are inscrutable to these two Yankees. The dryers are rarely vented to the outdoors, so it takes forever to get even the smallest load dry. Our apartment has a washer-dryer combo machine. If you’re not careful, you won’t activate the drying function and you’ll wind up with soggy socks. I think our apartment in San Sebastian has a washer and/or dryer. Maybe the Basques have better appliances.
Paris is in a constant state of reconstruction. Centuries-old buildings have been retrofitted over the years with indoor plumbing, electricity, telephones, and internet connections. Some buildings need to be strengthened as old bricks and mortar deteriorate. The building we’re staying in will undergo a renovation after we depart.
By far the biggest construction project in the city is the reconstruction of Notre Dame Cathedral, which was heavily damaged in a fire on April 15, 2019. There’s a huge crane hovering over Île-de-la-Cité (see below). With the exception of the façade, the building is shrouded in scaffolding. The north side of the building has a covered walkway with pictures and explanations of the rebuilding process. The south side of the island (on the left of the picture) is a construction staging area, with heavy equipment and a multistory modular edifice for contracting offices. Yesterday morning we watched from a nearby bridge as a crew inspected one of the towers on the front of the cathedral. You can see the cherry picker in the photo. When we came back from our travels yesterday afternoon, National Police had blocked the bridges to Île-de-la-Cité. President Macron was inspecting the construction site on the third anniversary of the fire.
Notre Dame. The flying buttresses are stabilized by wood arches. Photo courtesy of Julian.
The preservation instincts of the French are a sharp contrast to what’s seen in the United States. In some cities (looking at you, Dallas and Seattle), perfectly good buildings are razed for ugly contemporary construction. A small bungalow can be bulldozed and a starter castle or two built in its place. A 25-year-old building can be considered a historic landmark. While some old buildings may have outlived their usefulness, others can undoubtedly be saved with conscious retrofitting. This results in less waste going to landfills and more affordable housing and workplaces. The French believe in building to last, Americans are more into planned obsolescence.
Postscript, 4/17/22: We ambled over to the vicinity of the Eiffel Tower today to visit the Rue Cler neighborhood, where we rented an apartment the last two times we were in Paris. Even the Eiffel Tower has scaffolding around it.
I think the pandemic has affected French fashion much as it has American. We’ve always been amazed that the average Parisian dresses in black and dull-colored clothes, even though the clothing racks in department stores here show eye-popping hues. This year the populace has doubled down on dullness. I haven’t seen many stiletto heels strolling down Boulevard St. Germain. Even outside the student-heavy Latin Quarter, jeans and t-shirts are de rigueur. If you see someone wearing a baseball cap with a New York Yankees logo on it, chances are they’re French. As they say on the Champs-Élysées, go figure.
On Wednesday we went to the Musée Carnavalet, which focuses on the history of Paris. One whole floor is devoted to the French Revolution. Julian took this picture of earrings that were made after Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette lost their lives. Even 200+ years ago, the French had a macabre sense of humor.
Because I haven’t had more than a week of vacation per year in the last two years, I decided to be offline from work for the duration of this break. I told a coworker that I should only be contacted via my home email if there’s a zombie apocalypse or similar disaster at work.
How’s it going so far? So far, so good. I’m obviously not unplugged entirely from the outside world. We’ve been watching CNN. Both of us are sending and receiving emails and calling family and friends in North America. I’m (obviously) blogging. However, I have not tried to access my work email yet. We’ll see how long that lasts.
We landed at Charles de Gaulle Airport around noon on Sunday. We took a cab to our rental apartment on Ile St. Louis. The apartment is small, but serviceable for the two of us. The biggest drawback of the building – no elevator, and we’re on the third floor. The stairway is in a semi-spiral and has no railings. It was a religious experience getting our luggage upstairs. The plus side is the location – it’s within walking distance of most of what we go to Paris to see. Given that Covid is still an issue, staying out of the Métro is a good idea.
Ile St. Louis might be more appropriately called Ile de Glaces, as in Island of Ice Cream. This little bump in the Seine River has more places selling ice cream per square kilometer than most cities. Much of it is Berthillon ice cream, which is good stuff. A large percentage of the cows on nearby farms must produce milk for this operation. We have yet to partake on this trip, although there’s a place next door selling the ice cream.
We walked over to the Marais neighborhood last night to get some basic groceries and takeout. Because of the pandemic, many restaurants are also offering menu items to go. We stopped at a takeout window to get pitas filled with greens and merguez (Moroccan sausage). Very tasty. The pitas were nice and fluffy, unlike the dry husks we sometimes find in the US.
Today we did a little shopping. We started out at La Samaritaine, a high-end department store that’s been beautifully remodeled. We looked, but didn’t buy anything. We had lunch at Au Pied de Cochon (Pig’s Foot) restaurant. This is an old-school French restaurant that we’ve gone to on previous trips. Following that, we went to Librairie Gourmande, where I restrained myself and bought only one cookbook. We strolled along Rue Montorgueil (another foodie street) and got takeout salads for dinner.
Some people have bad hair days. I have a bad hair life. My mother thought my straight hair needed to be permed, so I had several perms before she gave up and made sure I got pixie cuts for years. When I chose to get a permanent as an adult, Mom said, “You know, I think I prefer your hair straight.” Haircuts are always fraught with peril for me. Here’s the usual progression:
When the stylist hands me the mirror: Looks good.
When I look at my reflection in a window after leaving the shop: WHY didn’t I make them quit while I was ahead? It’s SO SHORT!!!
After I wash my hair for the first time after the cut: OMG, it’s sticking out all over! It’s too damn short!!!
A week after the cut: It’s still too short! Grow, grow, grow!
Three weeks after the cut: It’s beginning to grow on me at last.
Four to six weeks after the cut: Finally it’s behaving! Life is good.
Seven weeks after the cut: It’s too damn long! The bangs are getting into my eyes. Time for another haircut!
The countdown has begun! T minus 12 days until we leave for a twice-Covid-canceled trip to Europe. The original itinerary (France and Italy) has been changed to France and Spain. The plans for this trip have been in the works almost since we canceled last year. Julian managed to get us almost-reasonable plane fares and two killer apartments to rent.
The first stop is Paris for ten days. Our rental apartment is on Île-Saint-Louis, less than a 5-minute walk to Notre Dame. Granted, the cathedral is still closed after the 2019 fire, but we can observe the construction on our walks. We’ll visit some of the usual haunts and a few new ones. A visit to Librairie Gourmande is definitely on the itinerary. Julian has also expressed an interest in seeing the Musée d’Orsay, which has a large collection of Impressionist art.
The next part of the trip involves taking a train to Bordeaux, renting a car, and driving to San Sebastian in Spain. I’ve always wanted to visit the Basque region of Spain and France. The Basque language bears no resemblance to French, Spanish, or any other Indo-European tongue. The region has mountains and the ocean to make us both happy. And it should be no surprise to regular readers of this blog that we’re also going for the cuisine. Our friends Bruce and Laurie may join us on this leg of the trip. I anticipate a crawl or two for cider/wine and pintxos (the Basque equivalent of appetizers or tapas).
The final leg of the journey is a return to the Dordogne region in France. We were in this beautiful area seven years ago (see this post). We’re staying in the same hotel as we did on our previous trip. The last day we’ll drive back to Bordeaux and spend the night in a hotel near the airport so we can catch our flight home.
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