LAUNDRY DAY IN BURANO

True to its reputation, April unfolded in a perfectly predictable way: completely unpredictable. Everybody knows the old French saying: En avril, ne te découvre pas d’un fil. All month long, the weather was all over the map. We experienced temperatures high enough to fool us into thinking that July had arrived. We were stunned by a freaky freezing episode that lasted three full nights and pretty much wiped out vineyards and orchards all over France. In between those two extremes, we endured many days of la grisaille where a grey veil seems to envelop the whole countryside and everything looks desaturated, dormant, and dull.

Venetian lagoon, October 2019

Contrary to public perception la grisaille is not reserved to Paris or Limoges, a city that has been (affectionately?) dubbed France’s chamber pot… But, let’s face it, some places manage to impress even under the dreariest of conditions. Burano is one of them. When I need color in my day, I head out to my photo archives and zero in on October 2019.  

Arriving in Burano

We left Venice on a Sunday morning and hopped on the vaporetto at Fondamente Nuove. The sun was having the hardest time piercing through the ominous clouds hanging over the lagoon. The air was cool and salty and misty: I was glad to wear a windbreaker and couldn’t help leaning outside on the small deck to fill my eyes with the shimmering beauty of the water. The Campanile di San Marco slowly disappeared from the horizon. After a 45-minute ride, we reached the island of Burano. As we approached the embarcadero, dark nuages above us seemed ready to burst and I feared the worst.

The not-so-grand canal in Burano

Like everybody else on the waterbus, we disembarked and followed a very narrow street lined with shops selling beautiful lace and not too tacky souvenirs. It led to a small canal and that’s when my eyes popped up. The juxtaposition of colors on the facades looked like the product of an exuberant child let loose with tubes of acrylic paint. 

Red and green: Christmassy?

And some Pepto-Bismol pink, too

Leaving the “main” street behind, I ducked into narrow alleys leading to small squares where my colorful discoveries continued. Away from stores, restaurants, and ice cream shops, the vivid walls of local fishermen’s homes were unfolding like an endless rainbow. 

Fun, fun, fun

Painting the walls of these row houses in different colors is a way to define the boundaries of each home. Supposedly, the bright colors help fishermen find their own house during foggy weather (or perhaps after a few shots of grappa?) 

A touch more muted

And some pastels

Burano still feels like a true fisherman’s island: although the population of the island is decreasing, 450 fishermen are still active members of a cooperative. The bulk of their catch is sold at the Rialto fish market in Venice. 

These houses sit on a tiny strip of land between the sea and the canal

Burano could not have become famous for its lace without the fishermen’s wives: their skills in making and repairing fishing nets easily translated into lacemaking. In the 15thand 16thcenturies, Burano lace was highly prized all over Europe. Then King Louis XIV ordered an import ban on Burano lace and set up la Manufacture Royale des dentelles françaises.     

Not just tablecloths and napkins, my friends!

It was quite apparent that the locals had more faith in their weather than I did. While I spent the whole day expecting rain, they thought it was safe to hang their laundry to dry. Many did just that.

How many bath towels? How many people?

Perhaps Sunday is indeed laundry day in Burano. Clotheslines with pulleys were set up in front of second-story windows or in diminutive backyards. Some even stretched across small squares, from one house to the other.

Sharing a line with the neighbor across the square

Could it double as a volley ball court?

Each drying load had a story to tell about the men, women, and children who used those clothes: pants and shirts, sheets and towels. It was also a reminder that our convenient clothes dryers are still hard to find (and fit) in most European cities.

Long pants and short jeans

Who wants to count socks?

I meandered in and out of tiny streets where hanging clothes and the occasional bicycle were the only signs of life. Perhaps it was nap time for the fishermen; perhaps there was a good soccer game on TV. 

Staking my territory

I like that faded blue

I finally returned to the main square and its leaning bell tower. Back to civilization, the cafés, and the shops. I saw a lot of clothes there too, but they were hanging on mannequins, behind the shop windows. Waiting for new stories to be written. 

Lovely Burano even when the paint gets washed out by the salty air and the Acqua Alta

Vocabulary
En avril, ne te découvre pas d’un fil: In April, do not take off one thread (of your clothing)
La grisaille: grey skies
Le nuage: cloud
La dentelle: lace

Heading to Paris instead of Burano? My book is perfect to help you plan your trip. Or to reminisce when you can’t cross the pond… Buy a copy of Moments Parfaits in Paris: I'll mail you (from France) a signed bookmark in an envelope bearing this collectible Trésors de Notre-Dame stamp!

PARIS AU RALENTI-CONTINUED

This intrepid reporter is following up on her initial post with a fresh batch of observations and photos collected during her recent trip to Paris. The first part of Paris au ralenti probably gave you the impression that Paris had dramatically changed since the pandemic, and not in a good way: an ebullient, festive city turned into a mournful, quiet one. That’s only partially true. I won’t deny there were a few poignant moments where it was hard to shake the feeling of loneliness but they were vastly outnumbered by the numerous “proofs of life” shown by my fellow Parisians and by the stunning examples of everlasting beauty the city is famous for. To make it even better, I consistently found Parisians to be warm, chatty, and helpful! Follow along and you’ll see that, in spite of it all, Paris is always a good idea.

Versailles might be closed but, if you board the right RER C, a métro ticket is all it takes to be transported inside the Hall of Mirrors.

On our first day out, I decided to hang out in the 16th arrondissement. Why, oh why, would I do such a thing? Two reasons. Except for the Trocadéro-Guimet-Palais de Tokyo triangle and Musée Marmottan, that part of the city is shunned by visitors. I figured this affluent and mostly residential area would look reasonably “normal” and I could observe some Parisians in their natural habitat… Also, I was interested in walking in Hector Guimard’s footsteps but I’ll save that for another post.

Five muscular atlantes are needed to support a stone balcony on rue Jasmin

As expected, the streets in the 16th were very clean and the elegant apartment buildings were well-kept. Except for a few Space Invaders gone astray, we didn’t see any street art but filled our eyes with beautiful architectural elements of diverse styles.

Ceramic decor by Gentil & Bourdet on rue Boileau (1906)

Although cafés and restaurants were closed everywhere in Paris, this neighborhood felt lively in its own usual way (yes, it is more sedate than Barbès or Belleville.) Nannies were watching over boisterous children playing in the parks. Impeccably dressed older women were shopping for groceries at Monoprix or dropping off their dry cleaning at the pressing. A large contingent of masked middle-schoolers exited lycée Jean-Baptiste Say, jumped on their scooters, and headed home for lunch. None of them played ball against the wall of the Eglise d’Auteuil, a testimony to their superior reading skills and good manners.

Défense de jouer à la balle contre le mur. Not as common as Défense d’afficher.

Life goes on in other parts of Paris, too. Would you believe that people still buy pastries?

You can still satisfy your chou craving at Odette

Always a line at Kitsuné at Palais Royal

Early afternoon, rue Montorgeuil was not encumbered by tourists snapping photos of Le Rocher de Cancale: it was busy with locals shopping for meat, fish, and produce or picking up dessert for their evening meal. I suspect that all the other streets devoted to food shopping (rues Cler, Cadet, de Lévis, etc.) are equally patronized.

Picking up a baba au rhum, perhaps? It’s Stohrer’s specialty.

A few observations regarding the food scene. Many restaurants have switched to the vente à emporter or livraison models to stay in business. What struck me was the variety and quality of the food we could choose from. MacDo and Domino have their fans but ethnic and traditional French restaurants are offering a fantastic selection of to-go dishes that echoes what they would serve in their dining rooms. We got a delivery from La Ferrandaise: the menu included pork cheeks with blond lentils, low-temperature cooked veal breast with carrots, organic chicken with morels, and more delicious creations. You may have to forgo the restaurant atmosphere but you will get interesting food! I also really like that many restaurants still want to showcase their dining room as an inviting place either by populating the seats with stuffed animals (like Les Deux Magots in my previous post) or by setting up their tables just as if they could welcome you tout de suite. A nice change from the stacked Gatti chairs.

Would you care for some Champagne before your meal? At Le Pré aux Clercs.

Even when the tables are not set, it’s a delight to gaze at some of the restaurant facades.

So much history at Bouillon Racine, founded by the same Chartier family on rue du Faubourg-Montmartre.

Paris remains a gigantic chantier: construction is ever-present, everywhere you look. The Olympic Games deadline is looming large! In addition to the ongoing reconstruction of Notre-Dame, the Eiffel Tower is getting a new paint job.

Makeover time! La Grande Dame will sport her yellow-brown color again.

Fountain Medici in the Luxembourg gardens was emptied out; the renovation of the statues, basin, and water supply continues through June 2021.

Now we know how deep it is

The new Samaritaine complex is ready for its close-up but the new Louis Vuitton headquarters across the street are wrapped in scaffolding.

The Rivoli façade of la Samaritaine got more than a face lift! The Art Nouveau façade on rue de la Monnaie and original façade on quai du Louvre were nicely restored.

There is a running (pun intended) joke that Parisians “discovered” the virtues of sports as soon as they were told to remain inside their apartments. Gyms are currently closed: parks and gardens are the new locations to watch bodies squeezed into Spandex: fitness, running, Tai Chi… Apparently, boxing has many devotees, especially among women: one particular instructor was spotted at Luxembourg on Thursday and at Palais Royal on Friday. Have gloves, will travel.

Tai Chi in the gardens: low and slow.

Fitness class at Palais Royal. Note to self: head out to Kitsuné after working out….

If climbing is your thing, the underside of pont de Grenelle on Ile des Cygnes has been set up as a climbing wall. You can stare at the Statue of Liberty while pulling yourself up. Or, you could head out to the right bank near Pont d’Arcole and ride a stationary bike while watching the barges float by.

Who wouldn’t pick this view instead of riding a Peloton in their living room?

Of course, Parisians are also spending quality time outdoors with their four-legged companions.

Meet and greet on Ile des Cygnes

Cinemas may be closed but film production has resumed and we noticed crews at several locations. No Emily or Lupin sighting, though.

Stumbled upon the set of Les passagers de la nuit starring Charlotte Gainsbourg. No Charlotte sighting either…

And if you need further evidence that life in Paris is quasi-normal, rest assured: you can still enjoy a good street demonstration, and not just during the weekend.

Théâtre Odéon is occupied by actors and stagehands protesting the shutdown of cultural venues. We saw them every afternoon, playing and singing Bella Ciao.

Whether it’s March or July, a prudent traveler always carries an umbrella and keeps a Plan B in mind in case it rains. Covered passages and galleries are open; they provide lovely sights and one-of-a-kind shopping experiences.

Mosaic floor at galerie Vivienne. You did recognize it, didn’t you?

Churches were open as well. We popped into Saint-Germain-des-Prés right after a funeral; the restoration work is finished and the colors are stunning. That same afternoon, the rain and wind were so violent that we took refuge in Saint-Sulpice. During a funeral. We sat down by one of the side chapels. Saint-Sulpice is huge (the second largest church in Paris after Notre-Dame) and social distancing was in effect, along with masking and hand sanitizer. It felt a bit odd –and oddly comforting– to share this moment and space with a large group of strangers. As Aristotle said: “man is by nature a social animal.”

Come to the light! Stained glass projection at Saint-Germain-des-Prés.

In general, gardens seemed a bit less populated than usual but the weather was not necessarily encouraging people to linger on a chair with a good book. Tulips were not out yet but the tulip trees at Palais Royal had put on their seasonal show in beautiful shades of pink.

Blooms at Palais Royal

Whatever the season, gazing at floral shops is always a treat. Peculiar buildings, whimsical decorative touches, bouquets of flowers in galvanized buckets, potted plants spilling over the sidewalk… every shop tells a little story.

When the shop is as pretty as the flowers. Floranges on rue Michel-Ange.

Inside marché Saint-Germain, a Meilleur Ouvrier de France creates floral arrangements at maison Beaufrère.

Les Fleurs du Mal: what a great prop! Stanislas Draber on rue Racine offers flowers and poetry.

If all you can do is stroll, Paris might be the most exciting place to do it. Where else can you walk all day long and be treated to beautiful architectural details right and left?

130 rue Réaumur. It’s the main street in the old Sentier neighborhood, the former home of printing presses and sewing machines. Most of the imposing buildings have especially high ceilings on the lower floors where industrial equipment was set up.

Fantastic doors and caryatides abound in Paris. These two ladies on rue Monsieur le Prince are called La Studieuse and La Libertine. Which is which?

I often catch great reflections of the Palais Royal gardens in the shop windows under the Montpensier arcades.

In the mood for poetry? Rimbaud’s Le Bateau Ivre unfolds on a wall at rue Férou.

One of my (not so) guilty pleasures is to wait for a large porte cochère to open up, sneak inside, in hope of discovering a secret courtyard.

Score!

Sometimes, it’s “just” a worn-out staircase, a heavy wood beam, and an ornate handrail.

I think one of my next photography projects should be to search for lovely ceramic and mosaic details on Parisian buildings. That will keep me occupied for a while!

Mosaic at Relais Odéon

And, of course, there is also street art and art-in-the-street: even familiar places can be “new to you” on repeat visits.

There is always a photo expo hanging on the fences of the Luxembourg garden. If you can’t come to art, art will come to you.

Be masked and merry!

Each evening, the curfew required us to be back at the lovely hotel Saint-Paul Rive Gauche by 6 pm. We were not allowed to eat out but, one night, a talented saxophonist serenaded us with jazz tunes around 7:30 pm. I watched him pace the street and play until he disappeared from my sight. I took in the grey zinc and slate rooftops, the carved window pediments, and the forged iron balconies. I caught a fleeting glimpse of someone heading home, bathed in the warm glow of a street lamp. I drew the curtains closed. It had been a good day and Paris was still a good idea.

A room with a view

Vocabulary
Le pressing: dry cleaners
Le chou à la crème: cream puff
Le baba au rhum: a sponge cake soaked in rum, with whipped cream
La vente à emporter: take-out
La livraison: delivery
Tout de suite: immediately
Le chantier: construction site
La porte cochère: carriage entrance

My book is perfect to help you plan your next trip to Paris. Or to reminisce when you can’t cross the pond… Buy a copy of Moments Parfaits in Paris: I'll mail you (from France) a signed bookmark in an envelope bearing this collectible Trésors de Notre-Dame stamp!

PARIS AU RALENTI

The trip had been postponed for a year. Despite living in France, I hadn’t set foot in Paris since September 2019. I knew that museums would be closed; cafés and restaurants would not welcome patrons; a 6 pm curfew would still be in place. We decided to go anyway and make the most of it. It was Rick’s birthday after all and it would be a nice change of scenery. The fact that I had been away from Paris for (what seemed to be) an eternity was putting me in a unique position: it would be easier to notice how the city had changed since its pre-pandemic days.

We arrived at Gare d’Austerlitz on a Tuesday at 5:30 pm which qualified as “peak hour” since the curfew started half-an-hour later. I expected platforms and trains to be packed but I was wrong. With no lines at the ticket machines and very few commuters pacing the RER and métro corridors, it felt more like a quiet Sunday morning in Paris before the young set heads out pour bruncher and the 40-years-old carry bouquets on their way to have lunch at their parents’.

Métro-RER corridor between Saint-Michel and Cluny-La Sorbonne

I know this doesn’t quite jive with what is typically shown in news reports but we never encountered crowds in public transportation during our 5-day stay. Call me crazy but I purposely went through the Châtelet-Les Halles interchange for no other reason but to see how crowded it was. I’ll let you judge for yourselves: here is a time-lapse video where you can (almost) count every commuter using the people movers.

Most of the time, we seemed to be stuck in a time warp: the walls were still plastered with affiches advertising winter vacations in sunny locations or movies and plays that briefly opened last Fall before the second confinement began. Many of the paper posters were tattered, signaling that advertisers had pretty much paused any campaign they had planned since the 4th quarter.

“Our Christmas gift to you: to make you laugh!” Are we laughing yet?

As expected, the closure of cafés and restaurants is the most glaring evidence of the pandemic; probably because they’re huge social hubs, day or night.

No onion soup for me today! To think that Au Pied de Cochon had been open around the clock, every single day, since 1947…

Au Père Louis on rue de Vaugirard. Even outdoor service is not allowed.

Sad sight at Café de Flore.

Some, like Les Deux Magots, “pretend” to serve customers.

Les Nounours des Gobelins do get around! Lucky bears…

Many of the smaller eateries shifted to the vente à emporter model, either click-and-collect or delivery by UberEats, Deliveroo, etc.

Le Pré aux Clers offers vin chaud, soups, and to-go meals.

Clearly, restaurants have no idea when they might resume operations.

“Nous rouvrirons à l’automne.” Polidor was using the Spring confinement to do some remodeling, expecting to reopen in the Fall. They’re still remodeling.

A café at marché Saint-Germain is not making any time commitment: dès que possible…

The “fruit bar” on quai des Grands Augustins has an injunction for all: stay fired up!

Not being able to sit down at a café for lunch means that more French people eat while they walk (the horror!) or look for a bench in public parks.

No seats left in square Laurent Prache.

Front row seating on place Saint-Germain.

Window seating at Palais Royal.

I purchased a couple of Merveilleux on rue du Pont Louis-Philippe and we ate them right on the street, using the top of a shipping pallet as a table.

Undoubtedly, the pallet had been used to build a parklet in front of the now-closed restaurant.

Let me tell you, it’s hard to spend six-to-eight solid hours on your feet without the possibility of seating down in front of an espresso or a glass of wine! And it’s a bit tricky to depend on public toilets since cafés and department stores are closed. Whatever you do, do not leave home without loading the (free) Toilet Finder app on your phone: truly a life-saver.

Public restroom on rue du Four. All toilets are automatically cleaned after each user and have hand-sanitizer dispensers on the outside.

Speaking of urban furniture… The Wallace fountains work very well, most of the Morris columns advertise plays that theaters can’t show, and it looks like the old newspaper kiosks have all been replaced with their “new-and-improved” models.

Sign of the times at the kiosks: few postcards, many masks.

Many other sites are in “sleeping beauty” mode.

Like all movie theaters, the UGC Danton only showed a few films in Summer-early Fall before having to shut down again.

Notre-Dame will not wake up for several years but the work continues. All the melted scaffolding was removed. Engineers and artisans continue to consolidate walls. There is still debris to evacuate inside the cathedral before restoration and rebuilding can start.

The bouquinistes’ lockers didn’t see any daylight while we were there but perhaps they feared rain showers. On the other hand, many of them heavily rely on the tourist trade.

Car traffic has gone down noticeably: nowadays, you are more likely to get run over by a vélo than a voiture. Even the Seine seems to be taking a break. There are no Bateaux-mouches or Vedettes du Pont-Neuf on the water. Even the Batobus service was suspended at the end of September. They hope to resume service in April (dream on…) The only boats we saw were houseboats moored on the banks and merchandise barges carrying wood, sand, or construction debris.

Esperanza on the Seine.

After staying on the Right Bank for many years, I had booked a hotel in the Latin Quarter for this trip. It was “my” Paris when I was a student in the late 70s-early 80s but the neighborhood had changed a lot over the past 40 years. The rectangle defined by boulevards Saint-Michel, Saint-Germain, Saint-Jacques, and quai Saint-Michel used to be an exciting and culturally vibrant area before the fast-food outlets, kebab joints, overpriced cafés, and souvenir shops turned it into a tourist mecca. It truly had become a zoo.

This time was very, very different. Foreign tourists had no choice but to stay home, and so did most French students after remote-learning became the norm. It was a ghost town. Many of you are quite familiar with that neighborhood and I think you will be shocked when you take this little stroll with me.

An eerily quiet rue de la Huchette. Rue de la Harpe wasn’t any livelier.

Curtain down at Théâtre de la Huchette. Ionesco’s La Cantatrice Chauve and La Leçon had been playing there since 1957, the longest running show without interruption at a single theater.

Le Caveau de la Huchette also went dark. After the Liberation of Paris, its caves welcomed jazz greats like Sidney Bechet and Claude Luter. Until the pandemic, it was open every single night.

 “Souvenirs row” across square Viviani, on rue Lagrange. Speechless.

The bookstore was open but when was the last time you could take a pic of Shakespeare and Company without an American tourist photobombing your shot?

Last days at Gibert Jeune, an institution for more than a century. For any former Latin Quarter student, this feels like the end of an era. All four stores around place Saint-Michel are closing forever.

So, yes, Paris feels like a different city at the moment. During the first confinement, mesmerizing photos highlighted the beauty of an empty city. They felt strangely peaceful; time was suspended. My photographs tell a different story; they show a city that’s wounded and is barely convalescing; but it’s also reinventing itself. There is some gloom and some sadness but there is resilience as well. And the beauty is still out there for everyone to see. That’s what I’ll show you in my next post…

Coming soon to a café near you: Gatti chairs and an aperitif en terrace. Can’t wait!

Vocabulary
Au ralenti: in slow motion
Pour bruncher: to have brunch
L’affiche: (f) poster
La vente à emporter: take-out
Vin chaud: (hot) mulled wine
Dès que possible: as soon as possible
Gardez la pêche: lit. keep the peach; remain upbeat
Le vélo: bicycle
La voiture: car

BERNIE TAKES PARIS

Who would have thought that a pair of patterned mittens would get more attention than Kamala Harris’s purple coat or Lady Gaga’s voluminous red skirt? As far as the internet goes, Bernie Sanders stole the show at the Inauguration last week and, by now, you have seen countless memes of Bernie in his beige parka, legs and arms crossed, a surgical mask on his face, huge earth-tone mittens covering his hands. I wanted to see how this “grumpy chic” American would blend in on the streets of Paris and I allowed him to photobomb some of my shots of the capital. Here are my 25 photos of Bernie in Paris: follow in his footsteps, try to recognize all the sights, and check your score at the end of the post. Bonne chance!

Second-hand bookstores: where you find things you had no idea you wanted.

No, I shall not do the happy dance!

I want to put money in people’s pockets

I kept the mittens but the wool socks had to go

I thought I made it clear the rocket ship was my first choice

Now is the winter of our discontent

The mind is like an umbrella. It’s most useful when open.

Oui, je parle français

Striking a pose for the next cover of GQ

Feels just like Vermont

It’s important to gain a higher perspective

Lucky find: furniture that complements my color scheme perfectly.

Everybody loves a good victory

Waiting for Emmanuel. He’s late.

What I enjoy the most about pétanque is the apéro hour

Looking for another comfy chair in the furniture district

I can see Montmartre from here (but not Russia)

I’m pretty sure they said I would be the Guardian of the Galaxy

New sartorial options? Fine but the mittens have to stay.

Conversation? What is it? A mystery! It’s the art of never seeming bored.

This might be a tad more exciting than the campaign bus

A gentleman is someone who can play the accordion, but doesn’t.

So many choux à la crème, so little time

The most instagrammed street in Paris is about to go viral again…

Thanks for indulging me! Now, check your answers.

1 Icones Américaines, Mº Bourse
2 Bouquinistes on quai St-Michel
3 L’Homme en blanc by Jérome Mesnager, passage de la Duée
4 Cour des Arrivées, gare d’Austerlitz
5 La Bouche de la Vérité, fountain on place Jussieu
6 Merry-go-round, parc de la Villette
7 Shakespeare and Company, rue de la Bûcherie
8 Umbrella installation, Cité Berryer; quote by Walter Gropius.
9 Place Fréhel
10 Colonnes de Buren, Palais Royal
11 Pont Saint-Louis
12 Rue Yves Toudic
13 Urban furniture, rue des Grands Degrés
14 Winged Victory, musée du Louvre
15 Grille du Coq entrance gate, palais de l’Elysée, avenue Gabriel
16 Terrace des Feuillants, jardin des Tuileries
17 Former wood workshop, passage Lhomme
18 Crêperie place Saint-Pierre in Montmartre
19 Galerie Vero Dodat
20 Adopte Un Mec, Mº Etienne Marcel
21 Monument à Guy de Maupassant, parc Monceau; quote by Maupassant.
22 Esmeralda, rue du Cloître Notre-Dame
23 Accordion player, between Mº Temple and République; quote by Tom Waits.
24 Odette pastry shop, rue Galande
25 Rue Cremieux

It was a very tough quiz. How did you do?

More than 20 correct answers
Paris has no secret for you. You even pay attention to ephemeral advertising in the métro stations…

Between 15 and 20
Excellent. When travel resumes, you’ll spend all your time comparing pre- and post-Covid Paris.

Between 10 and 15
Not bad at all. While stuck at home, check out some virtual tours of Paris so you can prepare your next trip (my friend Véronique posts fantastic free video tours on YouTube.)

Less than 10
You are so lucky! Paris is still a mystery to you and you have a whole city to discover.

2020 DANS LE RÉTRO

Our annus horribilis will soon be over. Although 2020 started full of travel promises (the US! Vietnam! Spain or Italy! Paris!) it petered out very quickly. I haven’t logged so few air or land miles since 1976; I didn’t even spend one day in Paris. In fact, my thirst for travel was only quenched by drinking out of my Amora mustard glasses and checking “Blursday” on my Venice calendar. Not surprisingly the number of travel photos in my camera roll is shockingly slim this year. And yet, I found many fine shots to illustrate that there are gems to be found even during une année merdique. Let’s roll the tape.

January in Cahors. Since our return to France, we’ve become quite familiar with downtown Cahors. It’s the administrative center of the département so we’ve made several trips to the préfecture to solidify Rick’s status as a permanent resident. Our January meeting was the penultimate appointment before he received his carte de séjour. Fifty yards south of the préfecture, the newly renovated covered market welcomes a nice selection of local vendors who offer superb foodstuff. Best of all, the original architecture of the 1865 halle aux grains was beautifully preserved; the interior wooden frame is especially stunning.

La Halle de Cahors

February in Sarlat. I was Desperately Seeking Ridley in the Dordogne area as Sir Ridley Scott, his actors, and his crew set up shop in the famous medieval town while filming The Last Duel. Our house lies a mere 14 miles from Sarlat but I admit to limiting my visits in the Old Town to the off-season when tourists are away. February is always quiet: most of the art galleries and souvenirs shops are closed and only locals seem to populate the terraces of the cafés to warm up their hands around a cup of chocolat chaud. Nobody straddles Les Trois Oies, the bronze statue standing in the middle of the traditional goose market square, and Le Badaud can leisurely contemplate the empty cobbled market street below.

Statue by Gérard Auliac. Le Badaud sits on a short wall dominating place de la Liberté.

March in Eureka. Our yearly stay in California was cut short and I barely managed to take a road trip to Eureka with my friend Andria. As the Executive Chef at the now-shuttered Restaurant 301, her daughter treated us to a special dinner and a stay at the Carter House, a faithful replica of the San Francisco Murphy House that was destroyed in the 1906 fire (Mark Carter found the original blueprints in a Eureka antique store and decided to rebuilt it downtown.) Being the only guests, we had the whole mansion for ourselves! Although Eureka is showing signs of gentrification, the small coastal town remains a study in contrasts: a stone throw from the vacant lots that border the slightly gritty waterfront, one can’t miss the imposing Carson mansion, allegedly the most photographed Victorian structure in the US. With gables, turrets, and gothic elements, the Carson House reminded me of a Hollywood haunted mansion, especially when I captured its reflection in a stained-glass window across the street, on the porch of the Pink Lady, another Queen Anne-style marvel.

A spooky Carson mansion reflected in a parlor window of the Pink Lady.

April in Payrignac. Except for essential shopping at the grocery store or pharmacy, the whole month was spent at home or within one kilometer from the house. Of course, Mother Nature inflicted us with perfect weather during the lockdown. Permission slip in hand, our one-hour allotment of exercise time provided me with an opportunity to focus and photograph what I could (re)discover in my immediate surroundings. I walked the same roads and trails that defined my grandmother’s whole universe a hundred years ago when a trip to town was a rare and cherished adventure. Her regular activities included going to school (she passed the Certificat d’Études exam, which was a big deal at the time,) herding sheep, helping her parents at the farm, and carrying the laundry to the lavoir in a wheelbarrow. Chatting with other girls and women while washing clothes was the best way to exchange news and gossip, before Twitter.

Le lavoir du Malpat, one of eleven public wash houses around the village.

May around the farm. Flowers were spectacular during the spring. Mom’s patch of muguet keeps getting larger and we had an early bumper crop; it was pretty much spent by the time La Fête du Muguet rolled around. It’s still traditional to give a sprig of lily of the valley to family and friends for good luck but, on May 1st, floral shops were not yet allowed to open. Unfortunate timing when everybody could have used some good fortune. Fields all around us were blanketed with red coquelicots. As a little girl, I was very fond of poppies and would make it my mission to “help” them bloom: I’d peel off the green buds to unfurl the crumpled petals inside. The flowers were never quite ready for their close up and would shyly reveal their chiffon skirts in shades of light red, pink, or even white if I had rushed them along too much. I still take photos of poppy fields every year. But, this year, the Best of Show Award in the Horticultural category was bestowed to the glycine that graces my cousin’s old house a hundred yards away. Thankfully, it survived her extensive renovation!

Wisteria at Catherine’s house

June in Gourdon. Finally, a quasi-normal month. All travel restrictions were lifted and, within days (hours?) I started encountering Belgian, Dutch, and German speakers at the grocery store. Hearing English doesn’t “count” because many Brits live here year around; it’s not an accurate indicator for tourism. With a flip of the switch, life in Gourdon became festive again, especially on Thursday nights when artists and troubadours performed while strolling in the circular boulevard. We even had a mini-version of the annual Fête de la Musique. It was very exciting to see the streets fill up again and to chat with friends en terrace. Our dachshund Lily even joined us at the cafés and was on her best behavior, a sure sign that she wanted to do her part and support la réouverture des restaurants.

A fabulous strawberry tartlet served on a Distillerie du Périgord placemat. A nod to one of my former suppliers: their Guinettes cherries in liqueur were featured in every Joie de Vivre catalog I published.

July around the farm. Rick likes to keep busy around the house and the property. There’s always a field to mow, wood to chop, stone blocks to move… Besides general maintenance, he also likes to tackle one “big” project each year. This time, it was the renovation of the rabbit hutch. The original structure consisted of four stone walls, sitting on a dirt floor, capped with a sad-looking corrugated fiber cement roof. Rick’s goal was to make it larger and taller so it could accommodate a barbecue area and a storage shed for the tractor, trailer, and garden tools. He also wanted to anchor the new roof to the garage wall to construct a carport. After consulting with a local mason, we concluded the old stone walls were so unstable and crumbly that they would need to be dismantled and rebuilt. We opted to have him pour a concrete slab and build new walls with cinder blocks; they would get stuccoed to blend in with the garage and the house. Rick’s contribution was to design and build the roof from scratch. He picked up fir beams and boards that he cut, notched, sanded, treated, stained, and assembled himself. I think he was a carpenter in a previous life. Do I hear the Notre-Dame engineers calling his name?

Rick in his forest… The wooden framework was then covered with clay tiles like the house.

August in Payrignac. Many people had to adapt and to rethink the way they work to make ends meet this year. Our favorite local band has continuously reinvented itself over the past 45 years. When I was a teenager, their rendition of French pop songs enlivened many of our Saturday nights. Ten years later, the band repertoire took a hard turn toward Rock n’ Roll. In the early 90s’, they morphed again to showcase –wait for it– musette accordion dance songs. Although that style of music was hugely popular with older French folks, I’m not too sorry I overlooked that phase of their career… Their latest reincarnation: a Mariachi band! When they’re not playing on a Seine cruise, in a hotel in Morocco, or at the Festival des Lumières in Lyon, they bring their charro outfits, sombreros, and instruments to the Payrignac restaurant for the annual Fiesta Mexicaine. I believe this year’s edition was even more successful than the previous one: the chef was no longer attempting to make Mexican food!

Embellished charro pants. ¡Viva Mexico!

September in the Loire. Road trip! One of my cousins lives near Anger and had been begging us to drive up and visit. We had spent some time in the Loire Valley before but had not explored the Maine-et-Loire. I booked a Bed-and-Breakfast in Azay-le-Rideau for a couple of days and it turned out to be the perfect spot to catch some of the sights we had bypassed on previous trips. The lovely chateau sits in the middle of town, with parks and the Indre river nearby. The absence of crowds is the only upside of the pandemic. We toured the chateau at our leisure and it felt remarkably intimate and livable. If Azay is a study in elegance, the Angers castle is quite austere and shows its military origin. The city is full of architectural marvels, from medieval homes to Haussmannian buildings. The Art Deco glass roof at the Galeries Lafayette is magnificent. While staying at my cousins’, we also took several walks along the Maine and Mayenne rivers. Just down from their house, one can reach a section of Eurovelo 6, a 4,450 km-bicycle itinerary that links Saint-Brévin-les-Pins on the Atlantic coast to Constanta on the Black Sea. Something to keep in mind if you’re up to pedaling through ten European countries…

Locks of La Roussière on the Mayenne river

October in Milhac. Fall at the farm comes in different shades of brown: the light brown of walnuts, the medium brown of cèpes mushrooms, the reddish-brown of chestnuts. So, I harvested walnuts, found a few cèpes, and (carefully) picked chestnuts. The problem with chestnuts is that they are so difficult to peel. We went to a chestnut festival and I tasted chestnut cider for the first time: it’s just cider combined with some chestnut liqueur. As luck would have it, you don’t need to peel the chestnuts to make liqueur… I’ll be ready to bottle mine in a couple of weeks. Chestnuts were on the menu again during our monthly hike with other villagers: our walk started through some thick groves, leaves rustling and nuts rolling under our boots. A couple of miles later, we were surrounded by tall ferns and old oak trees. After crossing a stream and reaching a little valley, I paused to admire the perfect little chateau of Milhac: with its ochre walls and russet roof, it stood in complete harmony with the Autumn foliage, the yellow cliff, and the dry corn stalks below.

Château de Milhac

November in Gourdon. This was perhaps the strangest month of the year. It was the month that couldn’t decide what to be. One day was clear and balmy, the next was hazy and humid. Cafés were open, then they were closed. Supermarkets could sell books, then they couldn’t. Gift shops started setting up their holiday displays only to lock up that same weekend. In the old Gourdon, the streets were empty again: only a few cats were out and they often wanted in. The second lockdown surprised no one. Although it was not as strict as the first one, it felt more “messy,” uncertain, and paralyzing. After watching the Covid indicators peak, go down, and ultimately plateau at a higher level than Macron’s target, the French decided to get ready for Christmas anyway. Trees were bought and decorations went up. The winning trio of foie gras/smoked salmon/escargots was well stocked in all supermarkets. Oysters were everywhere and we’re not even close to the coast. With restaurants not opening before January 20 at the earliest, food stores bet that we would buy even more holiday-type food to eat at home. City Hall encouraged people to decorate their doors and windows with home-made decorations. The usual garlands of lights were strung in the streets and around lamp posts. Wooden reindeers, a present-loaded sleigh, and a snowy chalet magically appeared by the gazebo overnight. The town might have looked as festive as last year but it was hard to take notice: everybody looked inward and the mood was off.

Signs to direct holiday traffic. I didn’t meet any elf or fairy. Maybe they forgot their permission slip?

December from my office window. In the late 60s, I was fascinated by the Apollo missions and briefly considered becoming an astronaut. I quickly realized that, unlike Valentina Tereshkova or Sally Ride, I wasn’t born in the right country for space travel: persistence would be futile. Nevertheless, I still get excited when rare astronomical events are announced: a bright comet, a full solar eclipse, shooting stars galore… December 21st was the day of the great conjunction when Jupiter and Saturn were closer than they had been since 1623. My binoculars and I were ready to observe what promised to make this Winter solstice memorable. Zut! It turned out to be a cloudy night, a fitting way to conclude a year filled with disappointments. The next afternoon, while finalizing our Christmas menu in my office, I looked up and noticed the dark silhouette of the woods cutting through bands of orange, pink, and purple: it was just past 5pm and the sun was finishing its daily course behind the western hills. Less unusual than a great conjunction but perhaps more satisfying after all because sunsets always remind me of The Little Prince, the first book I ever read. His planet was so tiny, the lucky guy could watch sunsets continuously simply by moving his chair a few steps. He took pleasure in the little things and knew what was essential. Shouldn’t he be an inspiration for us all?

“Allons voir un coucher de soleil…” Le 22 décembre 2020 à 17h29.

It’s a wrap! See, it was not such a bad year after all, although I realize we were a lot more fortunate than many, many people. Out with the old, in with the new! I wish you all an annus mirabilis for 2021.

Vocabulary
Dans le retro: in the rearview mirror
Annus horribilis: (latin) horrible year
Une année merdique: a shitty year
Le département: county
La prefecture: administrative center
La carte de séjour: resident card
La halle aux grains: covered grain market
Le chocolat chaud: hot cocoa
Les trois oies: the three geese
Le badaud: bystander
Le Certificat d’Études: primary school completion exam
Le lavoir: wash house
Le muguet: lily of the valley
Le coquelicot: poppy
La glycine: wisteria
En terrace: at a café, outdoors
La réouverture: reopening
Zut: yikes, drat
Annus mirabilis: (latin) wonderful year

To feed your dreams of France and plan your next trip, please consider buying a copy of my book Moments Parfaits in Paris, where you’ll explore every arrondissement through forty photographs and essays. Hint: it’s also a thoughtful gift for this dear Francophile friend of yours… When you purchase the book, I will mail you a signed bookmark from France and stamp your envelope with this stunning timbre Trésors de Notre-Dame. Merci! Your support helps me maintain this blog.

Buy a copy of Moments Parfaits in Paris: I'll mail you (from France) a signed bookmark in an envelope bearing this collectible Trésors de Notre-Dame stamp!

DRIVING MISS JEANNETTE

Don’t we all wish we could embark on a road trip? If you’re living in the US, you’re probably (and wisely) eschewing any travel this week and inventing new ways to give thanks. If you’re in France –and in many other countries around the world– you’ve been stuck at home, not being allowed to venture beyond a 1 km radius from your domicile. How do we keep our sanity? Perhaps I can entice you to follow me: step into a vintage 2 CV for un petit tour on country roads along the Dordogne river? En voiture, Simone!

The cutest French car ever: la deudeuche!

After winning a photography contest organized by the département du Lot, I was over the moon when the prize was revealed: a half-day rental of a 2 CV! I rode in the back (and in the trunk!) of a 2 CV many times when I was growing up but never had the opportunity to actually drive one. My friend Raegan was set to visit us in September last year and I decided to schedule this little adventure so she could join in. The three of us rode to Blanat, near Rocamadour, where we met Benoit, the manager of Roc N’Roule. After filling in some paperwork, we were introduced to Jeannette, a beautiful Azure 2 CV6 Special! She would be mine for the whole afternoon.

Miss Jeannette takes a break in a quaint village along the way

It didn’t take me long to get reacquainted with the dash-mounted gear shift and it “cue ball” style knob: when I learned to drive, my mother had a Citroën Ami 6 equipped with the same style of manual transmission. As soon as I turned the ignition on, the familiar engine sound filled our ears. Loudly. It’s a very distinctive sound, one that never leaves your memory. Just as you can always tell when someone is riding a Harley-Davidson, you know when a 2 CV is driving by, without even seeing it. Overall, it was an easy driving experience. I just needed to remember that those cars were built before power-steering (a few biceps curls might help) and power brakes (anticipate!) The clutch felt a lot different from the one on the Citroën I’m currently driving but I’m proud to report I only stalled the engine twice. I “may” have flooded the engine after stopping to gas the car but my two witnesses have been sworn to secrecy…

The 2 CV dashboard: a prowess in minimalism

We picked an itinerary that would include mostly country roads, quaint villages, and opportunities to follow the Dordogne river. We stopped briefly along the way but the whole point of the afternoon was to drive and ride in the car, not to walk and tour churches or châteaux. Creysse, Gluges, St Denis-lès-Martel, and Carennac all deserve dedicated visits.

First time in Creysse: a (small) river runs through it. Actually, it meanders and loops around. Dotted with numerous stone bridges, the village looks like it is sitting in the middle of canals.

I was glad the tourist season was over so we could proceed at a leisurely pace. The drive along the Dordogne is sinuous; narrow roads were carved in the cliff; passing, or being passed, is pretty much out of the question. The danger here is not to get a speeding ticket but to be surprised by incoming traffic and have to slam on the brakes.

Driving miss Jeannette, a vintage 2CV, along the Dordogne river.

It helps that a 2 CV has only one pace and that’s pas très vite. I don’t think I could have pushed the car to more than 70 km/h, even if I had tried to. The upside is that you can almost make eye contact with grazing livestock when you drive 30 mph.

You’re likely to spot flocks of sheep and tribes of goats grazing on le Causse de Rocamadour

When we crossed the river on Pont Miret near Floirac, I brought my speed down to under 20 mph. This 140-meter long suspension bridge was built in 1912 and a decree specified it could be used by either one loaded car, two empty ones, or no more than five cows at a time. The cables looked sturdy enough and the wood ties seemed to be in decent shape. I just read the bridge is currently closed to “rejuvenate” the planking… Ouf!

Jeannette, a vintage 2CV, crosses old Pont Miret over the Dordogne river. Built in 1912, suspension bridge, 800 wood planks.

Sadly, the weather was mostly overcast and a bit rainy. We didn’t get the chance to ride with the top down (yes, the 2 CV is the ultimate proletarian convertible!)  On the other hand, I had several opportunities to put the midget windshield wipers into action and to use the flip-up windows, mostly to defog the windshield.

Driving miss Jeannette, a vintage 2CV, in the rain. Tiny (but mighty?) windshield wipers...

The afternoon went by too fast and I was a little bit sad to take Jeannette back home. If I were mechanically inclined, I would consider having a 2 CV of my own. Rick doesn’t quite share my excitement but, of course, he grew up with les belles américaines. Different strokes for different folks or, as we say here, à chacun ses goûts. You may recall that I previously published a photographic homage to the 2CV, an easy task since the beloved car is still commonly used in rural France: I usually spot one just about every time I drive to town and it always brings a smile to my face. Maybe I’ll run into lovely Jeannette again sometime…

A 1949 gray 2 CV (with the top down!) and a 1980 Charleston racing along the Dordogne river…

Vocabulary
Un petit tour: a short ride
En voiture, Simone: giddy up
Le département: county
Pas très vite: not very fast
Ouf: phew
Les belles américaines: beautiful American cars, usually classics from the 50s-60s
A chacun ses goûts: to each his own

To feed your dreams of Paris and plan your next trip, please consider buying a copy of my book Moments Parfaits in Paris, where you’ll explore every arrondissement through forty photographs and essays. Hint: it’s also a thoughtful holiday gift for this dear Francophile friend of yours… When you purchase the book, I will mail you a signed bookmark from France and stamp your envelope with this stunning timbre Trésors de Notre-Dame. If you are interested in buying French commemorative stamps, check my selection. Merci! Your support helps me maintain this blog.

Buy a copy of Moments Parfaits in Paris: I'll mail you (from France) a signed bookmark in an envelope bearing this collectible Trésors de Notre-Dame stamp!

FIRST OUTING...

... after the end of our strict confinement. We can now travel within a 100 km radius. Eyrignac et ses jardins are located a mere 17 miles from our house. For the first time in 35 years, they were closed because of the lockdown but they just reopened last week. It's such a beautiful, serene place and the gardens are "magnifiques". Perfect weather and it was a real pleasure to explore the property with so few visitors.

Vocabulary
Magnifique: magnificent

LIFE IN THE TIME OF CORONA

What a difference a week makes. I was in Eureka enjoying elaborate Victorian mansions, colorful street art, and a superlative dinner prepared by the talented executive chef at the Carter House, a young lady I first met when she was a mere ten years old. She says that watching me prepare French dinners at home inspired her to choose that profession! My heart is full.

Check-in counters at SFO

While I was combing spectacular Agate beach on Thursday, it was clear that we would have to cut our trip short: we were scheduled to fly back to France on March 24 but, with the new restrictions placed on travelers from Europe to the US, it was hard to imagine that airlines would not drastically cut back their destinations and frequencies.

TSA at San Francisco airport: no need for Fast Track today!

By the time I got back to Modesto on Friday evening, I had played several scenarios in my mind but they all hinged on how United Airlines would handle our non-changeable tickets. I called the customer service line and was kept on hold for less than ten minutes; another ten minutes and a very efficient representative had rebooked us on the Saturday SFO-CDG flight. No hassle, no fee, no extra money; grateful for United. We would miss a family gathering on Sunday but I felt we needed to return home ASAP and not take the chance to be stuck abroad for several weeks.

Nice to see those tails!

The sigh of San Francisco airport was eery, Whole banks of check-in counters were closed; we approached one agent without waiting a single minute. The empty lines at TSA only reinforced the feeling that we were walking through a ville fantôme.

Pick your seat at the UA lounge

We had allowed extra time to spend at the airport in case there were some sanitary controls before boarding but they were none. We spent an hour at the United lounge which is usually crowded with passengers flying to Asia and Europe. Empty seats everywhere, no food buffet, wrapped plates of salad veggies and cheese on a rolling cart, a box of disposable gloves by the wine bottles… Yep, it felt different.

All food at the lounge was wrapped

At Gate 97, it was very easy to practice distanciation sociale and the agent dismissed formality by calling Groups 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5 to board simultaneously. We briefly engaged with the American couple in front of us: although museums were closed and their tours had been canceled, they were still ready to go and visit Paris on their own. When is your flight back, I asked? In ten days; supposedly; we’ll see how things develop.

I took this photo after the doors closed. Pick a row, or two; or three!

We settled in the plane very quickly and I was hoping we could depart earlier than our 3:25 pm scheduled departure. Macron had announced France would be on lockdown at midnight (3 pm here) and I thought it would be safer to be in the air before that time. Sure enough, the announcement came in at 3:10 pm: the gate agent was trying to figure out whether we could fly out or not.

It would have been so easy to score an upgrade. Not free, but easy…

The crew had already agreed to work this flight even though they were told they would not be allowed to disembark on arrival: they would need to stay aboard until the plane turned back to the US. Non-French citizens or permanent residents of France had to deplane as they would be refused entry on French soil. The American couple we had talked to earlier, and a few more passengers, quickly exited the plane. We waited a little longer while the corresponding luggage was removed from the cargo hold. I was sooo relieved that Rick had finally gotten his residency card ten days before we left! When we pushed back from the gate, there was a grand total of 27 passengers in our 787: that is the closest I’ve ever been to flying in a private jet.

Out of luck if you were planning to purchase discounted alcohol or tobacco products

Take a rain check for that café experience. All bars, restaurants, and cafés in France are closed.

The flight itself was uneventful and so was our arrival at CDG1. No sanitary control there either. Most shops in the terminal were closed, except for the Relay newsstand and, oddly enough, Ladurée. I guess we could all use a box of tasty macarons to weather what’s ahead. I had decided not to take the train back to Gourdon: in a fluid situation, many reservations were being canceled and the stations, unlike the airports, looked like zoos: expecting severe restrictions on domestic travels and looming confinement measures, many Parisians were making a quick exit to the province. We spent Sunday night at a hotel by the airport, picked up our rental car on Monday morning, and drove home.

CitizenM at CDG airport: our home for the night.

On Monday night, Macron announced that the French population would stay in confinement the following day at noon. Any travel would require an Attestation de déplacement dérogatoire that you must have on your person if you must leave your residence to go to the pharmacy, get food, assist an at-risk person (i.e. elderly or vulnerable people living alone,) go to work (if your job is “essential”,) exercise outdoor or take your dog out for a walk. On Tuesday morning, we made a quick trip to my sister’s house to pick up Lily so that she, too, could be confined on her beloved home turf. We were back at the house at 11:57 am, just in time to join 65 million countrymen for what is shaping up to be our fiercest war since WWII.

The permission slip to go out of your residence while we are confined

All of us will be impacted by Covid-19, wherever we live. Le confinement will be easier for those of us who live in rural areas and have more space around them. Rick will continue to run the tractor, mow down the weeds, clear the woods… Some of his home improvement projects will take a back seat because Bricomarché is closed and he can’t get supplies. As for me, I’ll be looking after my mother: she lives only 30 yards away but I’m not supposed to go inside her house. I’ll tend to the garden and start the vegetable seeds I picked up in Eureka. I’ll bake cookies and leave them at my aunt’s door across the road. And I’ll continue to blog. In fact, I plan to go through my photo files and share with you my stories about the places I love. Escapism is a good way to cope in times like these. And those of us who love to travel always dream of our next destination.

Be safe. Be well. Be dreaming.

Yes, Paris loves you and will be waiting for you when the skies clear up.

Vocabulary
La ville fantôme: ghost town
La distanciation sociale: social distancing
La province: any area of France outside of the greater Paris
L’Attestation de déplacement dérogatoire (f): permission slip to travel
Le confinement: lockdown, shelter in place

HOLLYWOOD-SUR-DORDOGNE

And action! Unfortunately, I wasn’t quite ready for my close-up. Strike 1: the casting directors were calling for women with long hair. Strike 2: the shooting would last three weeks and include the early part of March, just when I was planning to be in California. I (almost) could have been a contender.

The calm before the storm? Sarlat is so lovely –and quiet– in February.

The announcements came through my Facebook feed and it was a welcome change from cat memes and sponsored ads urging me to book a snow vacation in the Pyrénées. The production company was looking for no less than 800 figurants for a big-budget film set in medieval times. The shoot would take place at various locations around Sarlat in the Dordogne.

Ridley Scott is coming to town!

More information about the film started to leak online: titled The Last Duel, it would be directed by Sir Ridley Scott. You may have heard of him: his credits include Alien, Blade Runner, Thelma and Louise, Gladiator and, more recently, The Martian. Grosse pointure…

The old tobacco plant becomes the art department

I’ve been a fan of Ridley Scott since The Duellists, his very first film (1977) starring Keith Carradine and Harvey Keitel, sporting handlebar mustaches and funny braided hair. For that period piece set during Napoleonic times, Scott had chosen to film in and around Sarlat. Obviously, the Dordogne brought him good luck: he walked away from Cannes with the award for Best Film Debut. No wonder he wanted to come back here! After more than four decades, it must have felt like a pleasant retour aux sources. And there is that duel theme again…

Who wants to try on a chain mail armor?

For that reason alone, it would have been fun to be part of the cast and to have stories to tell. Such as “keep your eyes peeled during the market scene: I’m the third peasant woman on the left!” Oh, I’m so sorry you blinked….

A four-star hotel, privatized for a full month

It would have been fun to be on the set and rub elbows with some bona fide actors: the meaty parts are going to Matt Damon, Adam Driver, Ben Affleck, and Jodie Comer (yes, Villanelle from “Killing Eve.”) Instead, I have to rely on local media to find out what the stars have been up to. So here we go. Matt and Ridley had dinner at La Couleuvrine, a restaurant in the old town; Ridley ordered “something with truffles” (yeah!) while Matt had a burger (what???) Jodie was spotted at the Sarlat market: she was not wearing dark glasses or make-up but was radiant and friendly. Adam took his family to visit Lascaux IV and –can you believe it– he simply booked his reservation for this excellent prehistoric experience online, just like any of us would! At this very moment, inquiring minds want to know if Ben will finally arrive: there hasn’t been an Affleck sighting yet.

Imposing Beynac castle and its village

I realize this sounds like your typical fluff segment on Entertainment Tonight but, in our defense, nothing ever happens here in winter: tourists are scarce, most shops stay close until April, many of the ubiquitous restaurants in Sarlat are taking their congés annuels… While this is not the first time that a movie production settles in the area, the scale of this film is unprecedented and it is expected to be most expensive film of the year.

Crows always seem to be flying around Beynac

Most of all, it would have been fun to be close to the action and just observe how a film gets made. There are sets to build, costumes to fit, animals to handle, and food to cater! Would you like chicken or pasta? Some truffle omelet, perhaps?

What a setting!

Since I would not be part of the cast or crew, I decided to do the next best thing: location scouting. And boy, do we have the right locations for the story Scott wants to tell! The year is 1386. Jean de Carrouges (Damon) is a Norman knight who returns home from the war. His wife Marguerite (Comer) accuses his best friend Jacques LeGris (Driver) of raping her. No one believes her accusation and a court ruling favors LeGris. De Carrouges appeals to King Charles VI who sentences the two men to fight in a duel to the death. God will be the judge: if de Carrouges prevails, it means Marguerite was telling the truth. If LeGris is the victor, she will be burnt at the stake for making a false accusation. The film is based on true events and this was indeed the last legally sanctioned duel in France.

The narrow streets of Beynac

The Dordogne is rich in medieval castles, fortified towns, and old villages that provide the perfect setting for a story unfolding in the 14th century. Your intrepid reporter checked out the specific locations that Scott selected and they are indeed compelling. Although Sarlat itself is only used as a production base, I was curious about visible signs of unusual activity; I visited a few days before the start of the shoot. At the southern edge of town, several trucks were parked at the site of the tobacco processing plant that shut down a few months ago. Bright orange signs confirmed that the sets and props were being built and stored there. A little further down the road, more signs pointed to the old Boîte à Clous: the former home improvement center served as a giant cabine d’essayage for the extras chosen during the casting calls. Several men sporting disheveled hair and bushy beards walked into the building, presumably to try on their costumes.

Getting close to the action!

Follow the signs…

Old Town Sarlat was virtually empty that day, as it usually is in February. Although the weather was mild and sunny, only a handful of people were sitting at the café terraces. I could have crossed paths with a movie star or two if I had set up camp in front of the hotel where they were staying but who wants to be an obnoxious paparazzo? Thinking you could nurse a glass of Bergerac at the bar while waiting for someone famous to enter? Fogettaboudit (with apologies to Monsieur De Niro…) The four-star Plaza Madeleine has been privatized for a whole month.

Which trailer is Matt’s?

A week later, I drove to Beynac during the shoot. As expected, access to the castle was restricted but large yellow arrows pointed to the set, the parking areas for the crew, and the “trailers basecamp.” Fenced off with green tarps secured to wire panels, a large parking lot by the river was home to about 15 trailers and an assortment of vehicles with heavily tinted windows. They probably didn’t have a good view of the Dordogne below but the sight of the fortress on top of the cliff is inescapable. Château de Beynac is a jewel of the region. Built in the 12th century, the large square-shaped keep dominates the valley. It stayed in French hands during the 100-year war while Castelnaud, on the other side of the river, fell to the English. The village below stretches along the narrow road that follows the Dordogne with many houses being attached to the rock. Major scenes of the film take place inside and outside the castle, in the village, and in the church for a wedding. Reports indicate that period furniture was brought from England.

Who was he? Will need to watch the credits…

The restaurant at the base of the village –where the main road intersects with the one leading to the castle– seemed to be the place where the cast waited to be picked up by the cast pool vehicles. One actor, dressed in a long black velvet coat and wearing several gold bands on his fingers, stood at the corner with an assistant carrying additional clothing packed in a dry-cleaning bag. After a few minutes, they were whisked away on the castle road by a shiny black mini-van. From the look of his costume, I figured he probably played a noble or a clergy person.

Place des Cornières in Monpazier

The covered market in Monpazier

I drove to the bastide of Monpazier, a fortified town built in the 13th century. It’s a charming village of 500 souls that was developed around Place des Cornières, a large square lined with stone houses and arcades. It’s remarkably well-preserved but definitely has that “old look” to it.

Woodworkers

Lifting up and securing a wooden balcony

It’s all in the details

Sometimes, it’s just not old enough. For instance, Renaissance fenêtres would look out of place in a 14th-century setting. The crew was not filming in Monpazier that day but a large team of local artisans was busy building wooden doors and balconies to make sure all architectural details were period-specific.

Painters

Painters were aging metal hardware and wood surfaces.

How to build fake windows with plastic

Fake medieval windows were built and installed over more recent ones.

The cats will have to play somewhere else

The shops under the arcade will also be brought “down” to date.

Will the shopkeeper play a shopkeeper?

The shopkeeper of the Casino grocery store was watching the activity in the middle of the square with as much interest as I was and didn’t seem concerned about the potential of lost sales. This Thursday and Friday, a medieval market scene with 200 extras will be filmed in Monpazier. The amount of crew and cast will probably exceed the local population.

Château de Fénelon

The third local site to be used in the movie is the château de Fénelon. This medieval fortress is located a mere 5 miles from our house so I might just claim that part of the film was shot in my backyard! No interior scene here but the grounds around the castle were covered with artificial snow and studded with large tents and banners to recreate a military camp.

Fénelon is fully furnished and open to the public

Production will move to a couple of other areas in France. Casting calls took place in Carcassonne for scenes to be shot at the Abbaye de Fondfroide, a splendid 11th-century abbey with the Pyrenées as the backdrop. Finally, they will be headed for Mâcon in Burgundy.

Fénelon sits on a hill that dominates the Dordogne valley

I’m always tickled when I watch a movie that was filmed in places I know well; this one will be even more special because I was there for the shoot, kinda… I’m sure that some of you will recognize those locations as the Dordogne is a well-traveled region: Beynac, in particular, is extremely popular with tourists. For others, perhaps this post will serve as an introduction to a beautiful area of France.

That’s a wrap!

One last look at Beynac

P.S. The Last Duel will be in theaters in January 2021, with a limited release on December 25, 2020; obviously a move to qualify for the Academy Awards. I’m wondering whether the hashtag #MedievalMeToo will be trending by then...

Vocabulary
Le figurant: extra (actor)
La grosse pointure: lit. large shoe size; big shoes to fill
Le retour aux sources: lit. return to its (river) sources; back to its roots
Les congés annuels: yearly vacations
La cabine d’essayage: dressing room
La bastide: fortified town with a center square and streets intersecting at 90º angles
La fenêtre: window

Visit Château de Beynac
Visit Château de Fénelon

COURTYARDS OF MILAN

My first visit to Milan lasted a mere fifteen hours and seven of them were spent in the seediest hotel I’ve ever walked into. For thirty years, Milan conjured up memories of questionable bed sheets, fantastic pasta, and a private moment with a masterpiece.

Cloister at Santa Maria delle Grazie

Arriving at the stern Milan Central station on a late afternoon of October 1988, my friend Raegan and I flagged a cab and rode to Santa Maria delle Grazie with only fifteen minutes to spare before the church closing time. We quickly dropped off our luggage at the entrance and walked into the convent’s refectory. In the middle of a huge restoration effort, the fresco on the back wall dominated the large dining hall: Leonardo’s The Last Supper was looming over us and another three or four visitors. It’s crazy to think that we just waltzed in and had the place virtually to ourselves: nowadays restricted timed tickets sell out months in advance.

Tickets are required to enter the refectory and view The Last Supper; the church itself and the cloister are open for free.

Three decades later, we decided to return to Milan for a proper visit. We opted not to secure tickets to The Last Supper, probably for fear of diluting our original emotions, but we did take the subway to reach the church neighborhood as it seemed to be lined with older buildings that opened onto lovely courtyards.

Your typical Milanese courtyard…

Not too shabby either

I am a sucker for courtyards. When I stroll the streets of Paris and notice a resident punching numbers on a digicode, I always pause and steal a peek inside the door. Sometimes, I even walk in to experience a quiet moment in the big city. Most of these cours intérieures belong to private apartment buildings but, once you’ve passed through the porte cochère, you can usually explore at your leisure.

Love the wrought iron gates!

Stately

Milan is a bit different in that respect. The large inconspicuous street doors are often left open but lead to wrought iron gates that don’t allow you to walk into the courtyards themselves.

Wow!

Many examples of coffered wooden ceilings, too.

The fer forgé is truly remarkable: those gates are both strong and delicate, practical and artistic, intricate and decorative.

I love the shadow of the gate, too!

So many courtyards, so little time…

Beyond the gates, courtyards are usually framed by columns and marble is lavishly used. As is typical of European cities that were built before construction materials could easily transit by train or trucks, local quarries supplied the stone. In the case of Northern Italy, it is marble: white, pink, red, blue-grey, black…

Care for some marble?

So elegant!

While I was not surprised that the Duomo (cathedral) would be completely built of marble, I did not expect to see so much of it used in “regular” housing: the charming interior courtyards I photographed were not hidden behind the facades of fancy historic palazzos.

Marble floor detail

Carving and sculpting marble also produces chips: they are recycled to compose mosaic-like flooring that often graces the entrances.

Wouldn’t you like to take classes in such a serene environment?

Palm trees!

A Milanese courtyard typically features stone fountains, exotic trees, trimmed bushes, and colorful flowers either in dirt or in pots, all arranged in an orderly fashion. It’s an elegant look but not overly formal.

When the gate is open…

Occasionally, it looks more like an English-style garden where the vegetation is free to “do its thing” without too much human coercion.

I hope you didn’t miss all the fancy light fixtures…

Courtyards have been a staple of Milanese architecture since the Renaissance and I imagine that, at one point, horses and their noble riders passed through the colonnades and quenched their thirst at the fountains. Nowadays, metal gates permit entrance only to bicycles and pedestrians. It makes these secluded places even more secret, enticing, peaceful, and photogenic than their Parisian counterparts.

So, which one was your favorite?

Vocabulary
Le digicode: electronic door lock with a numerical code
La cour intérieure: enclosed courtyard
La porte cochère: carriage entrance
Le fer forgé: wrought iron