A STROLL IN THE LUXEMBOURG GARDENS

During my short stay in Paris last week, I popped into the Luxembourg gardens for a couple of hours. I always seem to return to that location as it conjures up so many great memories of my student days. It’s arguably the favorite park of Parisians and visitors. It’s easy to understand why: a stately 17th-century palace, the spectacular Medicis fountain, serene gardens in the French and English styles, a large pond usually dotted with remote-controlled toy sailboats, and plenty of green metal chairs that invite long reading sessions in the sun or in the shade. Marionnettes, donkey rides, and pétanque courts are a bonus.

The Luxembourg palace is where the French Senate sits

The metal fences that surround the gardens and the palace are often used to display photographic exhibits; the gardens regularly serve as the setting for art installations. For me, the gardens themselves are always the show, no matter the season. On that warm and sunny September day, they were glorious. One often hears a picture is worth a thousand words: I’ll let my photos do the talking.

Mosaïc-like patterns

Medicis fountain

No boats today

Garden chairs: until 1974, you had to pay to sit…

Explosion of colors

Saint-Sulpice towers in the background

Quiet time

Parting shot. Fabulous dahlias.

I hope you enjoyed the stroll. Make sure to include the Luxembourg gardens every time you visit Paris!

FAUBOURG SAINT-ANTOINE

Playing my Map Game before a trip to Paris, I was thrilled to draw L7. Faubourg Saint-Antoine is an area I first explored 37 years ago, during Rick’s first trip to France. Since he worked in the furniture industry, I thought it would be fun and interesting to stroll through the Paris neighborhood historically associated with menuisiers and ébénistes.

Passage du Chantier, the last vestige of the flourishing wood and furniture trade.

Chairs in various stages of construction, or renovation…

Private courtyard in passage du Chantier

For several centuries workers in this area outside the walls of Paris were exempt from taxes. Additionally, the proximity of the Seine meant that craftsmen had access to the wood supply coming into the capital. Already striving during the Middle Ages, Faubourg Saint-Antoine experienced its golden age during the XVII and XVIII centuries: its reputation in arts décoratifs was so well established that woodworkers, cabinet makers, upholsterers, and other artisans flocked from Holland and Germany to set up shop here.

Cour du Bel Air

Carriage entrance from rue du Faubourg Saint-Antoine to cour des Bourguignons

Cour des Bourguignons. Charles-Auguste Hollande, a wood trader, had the two wings built between 1862 and 1866. They were rented to Maison Krieger and then to Henri Racault; both were furniture manufacturers who employed hundreds of artisans and wood workers.

The iron and glass structure was added in 1868, along with the 105’ brick chimney that topped a steam engine.

On both sides of rue du Faubourg Saint-Antoine, between Bastille and hôpital Saint-Antoine, craftsmen opened up courtyards and passages: ateliers occupied the first floor while the upper levels were used for housing. More than 200 workshops were registered in the XVII century, all involved in wood and complementary activities such as varnishing, ironwork, textiles, ceramics, porcelain, marble, wallpaper, etc. Courtyards were like mini “villages” that composed a high-density community of people with related interests.

Floral shop at the corner of avenue Ledru-Rollin. Love the name.

Square Trousseau just off the busy street. Haussmannian buildings on the other three sides. Classic music kiosk and playground for children. A locals’ favorite.

Blé Sucré, a well-known boulangerie-pâtisserie across from square Trousseau. Perhaps the best croissants in Paris…

Like most areas in the city, this quartier has gone through substantial transformations since my first visit in the early 80s. Lifestyle changes (hello, Ikea) and the availability of inexpensive furniture from Asia ushered the decline of artisanal activities that had flourished since medieval times.

Passage Saint-Bernard. Co-working and IT consulting have replaced the traditional activities. Nice mur végétal and an inviting rooftop terrace.

The mosaic rhinoceros on passage Raush. Just a few years ago, there were seven other wild animals on the arcades of this building. I guess they all managed to escape their cages!

East Mamma trattoria at passage de la Main d’Or. If Mamma is around, hipsters can’t be too far away…

Cour de l’Ours

Ebénisterie Straure in cour de l’Ours. The santon of a woodworker sits in the window of the atelier.

Staircases open to the courtyards and lead to the upper (residential) levels

Some staircases have not been “gentrified” yet…

Thankfully, urban planners had the good idea to protect the courtyards and buildings of the area. Some have been lovingly renovated and still house a few furniture makers and restorers. Designers, architects, galleries, home decor shops round up the offering. So far, the gentrification efforts are progressing at a much slower pace than in the neighboring Marais or the area south of Pigalle. I feel le faubourg du meuble has not lost its soul and, at least for now, manages to retain some of its original population.

Cour des Trois Frères

Cour des Shadoks (their creator Jacques Rouxel lived here)

Two Shadoks! These cartoon birds appeared on French TV in 1968. They were absurdly stupid and I loved them.

This could be your lunch break area if you worked in the cour des Shadoks

Rue du Faubourg Saint-Antoine straddles the 11th and 12th arrondissements (odd numbers on the 11th side, even on the 12th.) There is no significant monument or museum, which means the street is virtually free of tourists. That’s a good thing. If you like to stroll without an agenda, this is the perfect place to explore. You hardly need a map: start from Bastille and walk into every passage, courtyard, and porte cochère that’s open on the even side. When you reach rue de Citeaux, cross the street and repeat on the other side. Make sure to check the section of rue de Charonne up to avenue Ledru-Rollin: lots of gems there, too!

Passage Lhomme, off rue de Charonne

Passage Lhomme

Passage Lhomme. As you explore the neighborhood, you’ll see a lot of signage that evoke its original activities.

Cour Jacques Viguès; a little more “monumental” than most.

Cour Jacques Viguès

Floral shop tucked in a courtyard

Cour du Panier Fleuri. Where the floral shop should be…

Cour Damoye, a peaceful retreat just one block from place de la Bastille.

Perhaps you’ll find your ideal chair in the Faubourg Saint-Antoine. This one is still “in progress…”

Vocabulary
Le menuisier: woodworker
L’ébéniste (m): cabinet maker
L’atelier (m): workshop
Le quartier: neighborhood
Le faubourg du meuble: furniture district
La porte cochère: carriage entrance

THE "OTHER" TOWER

As a student in the late 70s, I took classes on rue de Rennes. Getting off at the St Placide métro station every morning, I could see the tall black stick looming a hundred yards away. The other tower in the Parisian skyline. The one we love to hate. The eyesore. Looking back, it is indeed puzzling how la Tour Montparnasse managed to satisfy the powers-that-be since it never seemed to fit in with the traditional architecture that Malraux set up to preserve. But de Gaulle wanted it, Pompidou had it built and it was inaugurated in 1973. The skyscraper remains the most decried monument in Paris. In fact, it was even elected “second ugliest building in the world” in 2008 by online readers of VirtualTourist.com.

Tour Montparnasse viewed from boulevard du Montparnasse

In spite (or because?) of my close proximity to Montparnasse during my student days, I was never inclined to visit the tower: my interest gravitated toward the local crêperies… I changed my mind just last month: saddled with a sudden hip inflammation that had me hobble to the pharmacy and purchase a cane as soon as I landed, I had to shuffle my plans and select activities that would minimize my walking and climbing les escaliers. Taking a speedy elevator to the top of the Tour sounded like a perfect alternative: I would get a bird’s eye view of the city instead of my usual streetside perspective.

Rooftops from the 56th floor. La Rotonde restaurant (red awning) at top left.

My expectations were quite lower than the tower itself (210 meters.) After spending a couple of hours at the 56th-floor observatory and the 59th-floor terrace, I kept wondering why I waited more than forty years to see that view. Let me tell you: it might just be the best view of Paris. Sure, the Eiffel Tower is about 100-meter taller but it is quite off-center and the crowds are maddening. Notre-Dame towers are perfectly located –it doesn’t get more central than that– but they don’t offer as wide a range and, sadly, it will be years before they reopen. The Arc de Triomphe just doesn’t cut it, although it is a lot of fun to observe the crazy traffic below.

Jardins de l’Atlantique above Gare Montparnasse.

The great thing about a 200-meter elevation is that roofs and walls of the buildings are in plain view: the monuments are easily discernable. If you don’t know Paris, it’s a great introduction to the layout of the city. If you are a habitual visitor, you will love recognizing familiar neighborhoods and following streets with your finger.

Montparnasse cemetery with its windmill to the right

Both the observatory and the terrace are set up with maps and virtual reality kiosks to help you identify all landmarks. Except one; more on that later. There is a café, a restaurant, and a boutique on the 56th floor; should you feel in a festive mood, grab a glass of Champagne on the terrace.

What a view! From left to right: métro aérien, bois de Boulogne, Ecole Militaire, Champs de Mars, Eiffel Tower, Palais de Chaillot, La Defense.

Given that Tour Montparnasse is located where the 6th, 14th, and 15th arrondissements intersect, most landmarks are located to the West, North, and East of the tower. A lot of tourists choose to visit early evening to watch the sunset but I would advise to go around lunchtime: I was there from 11 am to 1 pm and attendance noticeably dropped at noon. Groups simply vanished. At that time of the day, sunlight will hit all the places you are really curious about. If you can, avoid Wednesdays and Saturdays when you are more likely to share the space with groups of school children.

Palais des Congrès, Arc de Triomphe, les Invalides.

The panorama is breathtaking. With the help of orientation maps, looking from West to East, you can expect to clearly see the following: métro aérien (line 6,) bois de Boulogne, UNESCO, Ecole Militaire, Tour Eiffel, Palais de Chaillot, La Défense skyscrapers, Palais de Tokyo, Palais des Congrès, Arc de Triomphe, les Invalides, musée Rodin, pont Alexandre III, Grand and Petit Palais, Champs-Elysées, place de la Concorde, la Madeleine, Jardins des Tuileries, musée d’Orsay, place Vendôme, Opéra Garnier, Sacré-coeur, le Louvre, Institut de France, St Germain des Prés, St Germain l’Auxerrois, St Eustache, St Sulpice, tour St Jacques, centre Pompidou, Sainte Chapelle, Hôtel de Ville, Notre-Dame, palais and jardins du Luxembourg, Panthéon, tour Jussieu, jardin des Plantes, gare d’Austerlitz, Val de Grâce, Bibliothèque F. Mitterand, Port Royal, Observatoire, cimetière de Montparnasse, parc Montsouris. Oh my!

Les Invalides, musée Rodin, pont Alexandre III, Grand Palais, Petit Palais, and an unidentified building that looks like three gift boxes stocked on top of each other (top right hand corner.)

Place de la Concorde, La Madeleine, rue de Rivoli, Tuileries, Montmartre, le Louvre.

Jardin des Tuileries, Montmartre, Le Louvre, L’Institut, St Germain des Prés, St Eustache, St Sulpice.

Rue de Rennes, St Sulpice, Centre Pompidou, Tour St Jacques, Ste Chapelle, Hôtel de Ville, Notre-Dame, Palais du Luxembourg.

On a very clear day, you might even spot a plane taking off from Orly airport! Looking down toward the base of the tower, you’ll have a great view of the jardins de l’Atlantique that sit on top of gare Montparnasse and of the train tracks leading to Brittany.

Notre-Dame, Luxembourg gardens, la Sorbonne, Le Panthéon, tour Jussieu.

Looking East: Val de Grâce, boulevard de Port Royal, bibliothèque F. Mitterrand (“open book” buildings), the apartment buildings around place d’Italie.

And the “unidentified” building that looks like three gift boxes stacked on top of each other? It’s the new palais de Justice near porte de Clichy: the original location on the Ile de la Cité had become too small. I saw it up close the following day while driving on the boulevard périphérique. This new court building opened in April 2018 and the architect was Renzo Piano who also designed the centre Pompidou. At 160 meters in height, it is now the second tallest building in Paris after Tour Montparnasse. The western façade is sliced by a panoramic elevator that should offer lovely views of Montmartre but the general public can only visit the first four floors. It appears that Tour Montparnasse will remain the “other” tower with a view for a while longer…

The new Palais de justice near porte de Clichy

If you want to visit Tour Montparnasse, book your ticket online in advance. You need not specify a day or time and your ticket is good for one year. If the weather does not cooperate, it gives you the flexibility to pick a clear day.

Tour Montparnasse is scheduled to get a substantial “facelift” just in time (you guessed it) for the Olympic Games of 2024. See what the architects have in mind.

And here are more photos of the new palais de Justice.

Vocabulary
La crêperie: a restaurant that serves crêpes (sweet) and galettes (savory)
L’escalier: staircase; stairs
Le métro aérien: section of the Paris métro that runs above ground
Le boulevard périphérique: the ringroad around Paris proper

OUR LADY

This is not the post I was planning to publish this week. We all saw the horrible images of the devastating fire that devoured Notre-Dame de Paris yesterday. Pumping water from the nearby Seine, 400 heroic firefighters managed to save the two towers, the façade, and the overall structure of the cathedral; they also secured some of the most precious relics and artworks. The 800-year-old wood frame that supported the roof, along with the spire, burned down. Damage to the grand pipe organ and the stunning stained-glass roses will need to be evaluated.

A rare photo of Notre-Dame on a snowy day

Worldwide emotion was palpable in the surrounding streets, on TV, and on the web. Sorrow was shared by French and non-French, the faithful and the occasional tourist. It showed the cathedral had truly earned its given name: OUR lady. Since the 12th century, it has been the soul of Paris. It bore witness to fundamental moments of French history: Henri IV’s marriage, Napoléon’s coronation, the Liberation from Nazi Germany. It’s the most visited monument in Europe. It’s listed as a World Heritage Site. It belongs to the world, to all of us.

Magical at night

Transcending its religious significance, the cathedral became a tribute to civilization and human know-how. Thousands of artists and artisans contributed their creativity, skills, sweat, and tears over nine centuries to build a structure so unique that it inspired writers, painters, photographers, and musicians. Millions of American children were introduced to Notre-Dame via Disney’s Ratatouille. Millions of French children discovered it through Victor Hugo’s novel. I was one of them.

From the terrace of the Insitut du Monde Arabe

Notre-Dame was my neighbor while I was a student in the Latin Quarter in the mid-70s. On a whim, after an afternoon math class that was taking place a block away, I decided to check out the view from the top. I got my ticket at the tiny guérite on the North side of the North tower and proceeded to climb 387 narrow spiraling steps. My efforts were rewarded with the most magnificent view of Paris. Yes, I think it’s better than the Eiffel Tower because of its central location and proximity to other significant sites. I made the climb on three other occasions, usually with some American guests in tow.

Stained glass in one of the lateral chapels

The keystone

I attended mass at Notre-Dame only once, in September 2011. Mom had joined me while I was in Paris for a trade show. Her mobility was a bit impaired. I picked activities that would not require her to walk too much. We chose a Gregorian mass on Sunday and sat in the middle of the nave while visitors filed through the ambulatory. The organ and the chants were glorious. Entrance to the cathedral was always free and I was amazed to see how tourists and faithful could cohabit with limited disturbance.

Gargoyles

Just about every trip to Paris led me to the site; at the very least, I strolled on the parvis or in square Jean XXIII that borders the cathedral to the South and East. I would see it from Montmartre and Belleville, from pont des Arts and pont d’Austerlitz, from Beaubourg and Institut du Monde Arabe. It was always nearby. It was eternal, or so I thought. Like everybody else, I took it for granted.

One of my early shots (almost 20 years ago) from quai de Montebello

Emmanuel Macron vowed that we would rebuild the cathedral, a gigantic endeavor. The Middle Ages were known as the era of cathedral builders; perhaps the 21st century will usher a similar period since it appears that everybody wants to be part of the reconstruction effort.

From pont de la Tournelle

I’m not sure I’ll still be around to walk into the “new” Notre-Dame but that didn’t stop the thousands of craftsmen who started building the original structure in 1160: those bâtisseurs were fully aware they would never see the result of their hard work. But they also knew they were serving a higher purpose: expressing their faith in God. Today, we can be new bâtisseurs with another purpose: expressing our faith in man and our appreciation of heritage. So that future generations of children can climb 387 steps, gaze at gargoyles, and embrace the splendid city below.

Official website for the fundraising campaign

Through an upstairs window at Shakespeare and Co.

Vocabulary
La guérite: booth
Le parvis: esplanade
Le bâtisseur: builder

My very last photo of the cathedral. Taken on March 19, 2019. The spire and the South rose reflected in the window of Charbonnel, a fine art supply shop on quai de Montebello.

VENI, VIDI, VAN GOGH

My first encounter with Van Gogh goes back to my young philatelist days. I started collecting les timbres in the late 60s. My collection had no particular focus and my approach was opportunistic: find an envelope with a pretty image, cut out the top right corner, soak and remove the stamp, let dry. Of course, bigger was better and I was always on the lookout for large commemoratives. La Poste regularly issued stamps in their Série touristique and I was especially fond of them: those miniature gravures took me to Le Mont Saint-Michel, Carcassonne, and Bort-les-Orgues long before I was old enough to visit the actual locations on my own.

My second favorite category was fine arts. Not so much because I was enamored with paintings but because these stamps were always oversized and they just looked stunning in my red album. A couple of school friends were collectionneurs as well and we traded our duplicates. I got my first timbre artistique from Laurent: it was La Baigneuse by Dominique Ingres. Van Gogh didn’t enter my collection until 1979 when the Post Office issued L’Eglise d’Auvers sur Oise. What a shock! I had never seen such a luminous stamp. It simply popped from the album page and made all other paintings look bland.

A visit to the musée d’Orsay in 1988 was a revelation: twenty-four of his paintings, in one room, bathed in natural light. I was transfixed by the richness of his colors, the depth of his blues in particular. I stared at Starry Night, a painting so powerful that I felt pulled into the deep water of the Rhône river.

A trip to Arles in 2017 cemented my appreciation for his works. My friend Raegan and I walked in Vincent’s footsteps, searching for the exact locations that he painted during two of his most prolific years.

While in Paris last month, Rick and I made a point of booking tickets to “Van Gogh: La nuit étoilée” at L’Atelier des Lumières, an immersive experience that runs through December 2019. Located in the 11th arrondissement, it is situated on the site of the former Fonderie du Chemin-Vert, a factory that started casting metal in 1835. The location had not been occupied since 2000; Bruno Monnier came up with the project of converting the space into a center for numeric arts. The first show opened in 2018 and was devoted to Gustav Klimt.

To say that Van Gogh: La nuit étoilée is a projection of the artist’s works on the interior walls of a building is inadequate. This is very different from the vacation slide shows we all endured in our parents’ living room during the 70s! To produce the exhibit, thousands of tableaux –and some of Vincent’s letters to his brother Theo– were digitized at a very high resolution. The images are set in motion to complement an inspired musical score that includes classical and modern pieces from Vivaldi to Miles Davis, from Mozart to Nina Simone. More than one hundred video projectors are used to broadcast the program on the walls and the floor of the Atelier; it’s custom-made to take advantage of the various surfaces, the angles of the walls, and the roundness of the pillars.

Each visual and musical sequence truly immerse you into Van Gogh’s universe: ten chronological scenes illustrate his painting style and technique, showcase his favorite subjects, and transport the viewers to his famous locales: Montmartre, Arles, Saint-Remy, Auvers. The images dissolve into each other and seem to be animated. Yet, the sequencing is not too speedy: it’s still possible to appreciate the richness of a given painting –and its details– but on a much larger scale than in a museum viewing. The photos on this post don’t do justice to the exhibit: they are just meant to convey the ambition of the show and the feeling of the space. I found the whole installation to be truly spectacular, almost magical. Planning a trip to Paris this year? I highly recommend you make time for Van Gogh: La nuit étoilée and plunge into the deep blue waters of the Rhône river.

Here are a few useful tips if you decide to go to L’Atelier des Lumières.

• Besides Van Gogh, the current exhibit features two other immersions: Japon Rêvé (excellent) and Verse, which made me feel like I was witnessing the Big Bang or traveling in space. All three programs are shown successively in the main hall; the whole experience lasts one hour.

• This show runs through December 31, 2019. Admission is limited and you must book your ticket online. The online calendar shows available days and time slots.

• Time slots are on the half-hour: depending on your scheduling, the program (for you) might start either with Van Gogh or with Japan/Verse.

• I don’t know whether all time slots sell out but there might be fewer spectators during the lunch hour or at the tail end of the day. There are nocturnes on Friday and Saturday nights. Predictably, weekends sell out faster.

• The place didn’t feel crowded to me or, at least, the crowds didn’t interfere with my viewing pleasure. There is a sitting area in the mezzanine and some circular benches scattered in the room. Many people chose to sit or even lie down on the floor; some preferred to stand but were considerate not to do so in front of those who were sitting down. You can wander around but the projected images are seamlessly repeated in different areas: you will not be missing anything if you just stay put in a particular spot. I didn’t feel there was one bad seat in the house, just slightly different perspectives due to the various shapes of the surfaces.

• Non-flash photography is authorized but I would recommend that you just allow yourself to take in the whole experience and not be distracted. If you absolutely want to take photographs, my suggestion is to stay for a “second round” as the whole program repeats on the hour and you will not get kicked out if you stay for a second viewing.

• Save some time for the gift shop: the selection and the quality of the items are worthy of the top museums I’ve visited.

L’Atelier des Lumières
38 rue Saint Maur
75011 Paris

Vocabulary

Le timbre: stamp
La Poste: French post office
La Série touristique: touristique series
Le collectionneur: collector
Le timbre artistique: fine arts stamp
La Baigneuse: Female Nude, Bather
L’Eglise d’Auvers sur Oise: Church at Auvers
Le tableau: painting

DINE AND FLY

I’m picky about restaurants: working in the specialty food business for thirty years exposes you to some of the tastiest (and sometimes weirdest) ingredients in the world. It’s hard for me to pay good money for uninteresting food and poor execution.

I’ve been known to research the food scene at my destination prior to traveling. It certainly doesn’t preclude random discoveries that often reveal delicious options but I usually have a list of old favorites or new go-to places in case nothing exciting turns up. No Michelin-starred establishments, more like “little holes in the wall” that prepare pristine sushi, a superlative cheesy-corny quesadilla, the lightest fish and chips, or a perfectly cooked angler steak with shallot sauce.

Then there is air travel, airline food, and airport restaurants. Ugh.

My default flight from Paris to San Francisco requires me to check in at 7 am at CDG1. I have two options. The evening before departure, I can spend the night in Paris proper and enjoy a superlative dinner just about anywhere; but that also means getting up at some ungodly hour to reach the airport on time, hoping to avoid rush hour traffic or praying the RER trains are not affected by the all-too-frequent strikes. Or, I can minimize my morning stress and stay at an airport hotel: it seriously reduces my dining choices but it makes me a more pleasant traveler the next day.

Over the years I’ve tried a few hotels around the airport but there is one particular restaurant that I particularly favor: the Novotel Café that is steps away from the RER/CDGVAL transportation hub. I would describe it as a modern brasserie where you can order a perfectly seared entrecôte, a risotto with cèpes mushrooms, or a runny chocolate lava cake. The wait staff is impeccably dressed in white shirts and black slacks or skirts. It’s not an airport cafeteria, nor a restauration rapide joint: the setting is not too casual and they aim to provide a finer dining experience than what you would expect at an airport.

During my last visit, my table was located by the glass partition that separates the dining room from a lush bamboo garden: it’s a green haven that makes you temporarily forget the ever-present concrete and uninspiring architecture of the train station (if you’ve been there, you know what I’m talking about.) It was close to 8 pm. I was by myself this time, sipping a glass of Rosé and enjoying a delicious plate of salmon sashimi when my eye caught an unusual reflection in the glass wall: an explosion of flowers. I turned my head and noticed that two 40ish women were now sitting ten feet in front of me. Both were wearing mid-calf dresses that seem to be cut from the same pattern, the same black fabric, and the same floral print, albeit red for one and green for the other. Big hair and make-up. Immaculate white tennis shoes. They shared a bottle of Les Jolies Filles Côtes-de-Provence Rosé. They spoke in French. Obviously, two BFF gearing up for a trip to… Barcelona? Berlin? Marrakech?

I started to scan the room, observing my fellow diners, trying to figure out their respective destinations. The gentleman by the wall to my right was easy to peg: 50ish, jeans, white shirt, navy blue blazer hanging on the back of his chair, reading the latest Haruki Murakami’s novel. Tokyo-bound for sure. Further back, three middle-aged men, all in pale blue button-down shirts and V-neck sweaters; animated conversation; probably discussing the deal they would iron out in New York or Boston; probably flying Business class or hoping for an upgrade. The older couple a few tables in front of me was already in the dining room when I arrived. They had ordered the three-course meal with a bottle of wine and Champagne. They lingered, squeezing and enjoying every last minute of their anniversary vacation in Paris (?) before returning home to the US. As I was finishing my herbal tea, a middle-aged couple arrived; he wore a Hawaii surfing t-shirt; she asked for green vegetables instead of potatoes; their English sounded sans accent to my Californian ear. I was pretty sure they would be boarding my flight to San Francisco the next day.

Faces, places. People-watching is almost a national sport in French cafés. Perhaps they too were guessing the destination printed on my boarding pass.


Vocabulary
L’entrecôte (f): rib-eye steak
Le cèpe: porcini
La restauration rapide: fast-food
Sans accent: without accent

LA MAZARINE

You are undoubtedly familiar with l’Académie Française, the body of 40 immortels who are charged with preserving and perfecting the French language. They gather under the dome of the Institut de France on quai de Conti. You can’t miss the sight of its cupola when you cross the Seine from the Louvre to the Left Bank: passerelle des Arts ends right in front of the imposing building.

Several Académies at l’Institut de France

Originally built in 1662 as the Collège des Quatre Nations, l’Institut is not open to the public, except during the Journées du Patrimoine when you can tour the chapel and possibly sit in one of the Académiciens’ fauteuils de velours vert.

A panoramic view of the courtyard

You may not know that the XVIIth century building also houses the bibliothèque Mazarine in its left wing. As the oldest public library in France, it is open for free visits and organized tours: simply walk through the vaulted stone entrance to reach a rectangular paved courtyard, a bit reminiscent of the Sorbonne.

CM for Cardinal Mazarin

I spent a few minutes admiring the symmetry of the old college, its mullioned windows, and its slate roofs. I turned left, climbed the wide stairs below the triangular frontispiece, and took note of the large brass handles carved with CM, the mark of Cardinal de Mazarin.

A grand entrance to the library

Cardinal Jules de Mazarin succeeded Richelieu as Chief Minister of Louis XIII and served as Louis XIV’s educator and Chief Minister as well. His personal library of some 40,000 volumes was originally kept in his hôtel particulier on rue Richelieu. In his will, he made provisions to have the Collège des Quatre Nations built on quai de Conti where his extensive book collection would be housed.

La petite galerie

A spiral staircase leads to a double set of carved doors on the third level. I entered the Petite Galerie, a small reading room lined with books and wooden drawers presumably filled with the French equivalent of library cards. They might just be relics: I noticed several computer stations throughout the library.

La grande galerie

Old habits die hard: passing through heavy wood doors, the sound of my boots on the parquet seemed a bit loud. In the Grande Galerie, I paused and took in the quietness, the rich tones of the wood, the orderly arrangement of massive tables, cane-backed chairs, dark green reading lamps, and ornate chandeliers.

Leather-bound books. Old, old books.

Ancient volumes line the shelves on the walls; most are bound in leather with faded titles in gold leaf. Apparently, the library holds 600,000 printed books and tends to specialize in historical science. A 1455 Guttenberg bible is locked in a vault.

A 1693 celestial globe by Coronelli

Mazarin’s private collection was transferred to this site along with many decor elements from his original library: columns, pedestals, wood panels, etc.

Unknown Roman. The grande galerie is lined with bronze and marble busts featuring Roman emperors, authors (such as Cicero, Sophocles or Aristotle) and scientists from the XVII and XVIIIth centuries.

The bouquinistes are closed today…

In the main reading room, tall windows look north: toward the quay, the Seine, the bouquinistes stalls, the Louvre.

The chapel cupola and the courtyard

On the southern side, the gilded cupola above the chapel stands front and center.

The grand staircase was added in 1824

I walked back to the entrance, checking out every marble and bronze bust that seemed to watch over the students, making sure the beauty of their surroundings would not distract them from their work. More Romans and Greeks followed me down the spiral staircase.

Sundial. Nocte pulsa refulgen mentibus: chasing away the night, enlightening the minds.

Back at ground level, the chapel and its gold sundial towered over passersby who were hurrying up indoors: a fine drizzle had just started.

This is why you MUST walk into any open courtyard when strolling in Paris…

I took one last look at the peaceful courtyard, pulled out my umbrella, and headed out to a café.

Bibliothèque Mazarine official website

Vocabulary
Immortel: immortal. Members of the Académie Française are called immortels. Like you and me, they will pass on but the French language will never die (oh, wait: what happened to Latin!!!)
La passerelle: pedestrian bridge
Le fauteuil de velours vert: green velvet armchair
La bibliothèque: library
L’hôtel particulier (m): private mansion
Le bouquiniste: used bookseller who displays his merchandise in green kiosks lining the Seine

THE GETAWAY

Rick served his sentence and was released from jail a week before Christmas. He didn’t look worse for the wear. It was only a three-month stint. He got some education and a couple of free meals.

Enter at your own peril…

Rick moved to France with a visa long séjour, a 12-month visa that is granted to family members of a French citizen (that would be moi.) The requirements to get the visa renewed are two-fold: show a basic understanding of French and attend a couple of classes of instruction civique. After an initial evaluation at the Immigration Office in Toulouse, he was prescribed 100 hours of French.

An imposing, massive stone façade

We drove to Cahors for the civics classes, a full day in November, another one in December. He was afforded a personal English translator: he happened to be the only English speaker… He also received meal vouchers and had lunch with his interpreter while I explored la vieille ville (yes, you can expect future posts on Cahors.) Luckily, the language classes were scheduled in Gourdon. The program called for a semi-immersion where Rick spent 7 hours every Wednesday in a classroom. It turned out to take place in an exceptional setting: la Maison du Roy i.e. the King’s House.

This is the King’s House. Consider yourself warned…

During the French monarchy, la Maison du Roy used to be the city jail. The archives do not list any notable prisoner and we’re left to assume that jail only housed drunkards and chicken thieves.

Peekaboo!

Built inside the fortified city, la Maison du Roy shares its southern wall with the old ramparts that were a defensive barrier against potential invaders: these stone walls are about 6 feet wide! Interestingly enough, the now-defunct courthouse shared that wall –and a door, for the sake of convenience– with the old jail. In spite of their restoration, the window openings on the northern side hint at what a massive structure it really is.

Window with a view

The view from the second story windows showcases the Saint-Pierre church (14th century) up the hill. In the (very) old days, it would have afforded a nice view on the medieval castle that was destroyed by the English at the end of the 100-year war.

View without a window

Flanked by the Maison des Jeunes et de la Culture and by the city library, la Maison du Roy now houses a few rooms available for rent (meetings, conferences, etc.) And perhaps an old jail for students who don’t pass their French language test…

The jail keeper, perhaps? Watchful kitty across the square.

Vocabulary
Le long séjour: long stay
Moi: me
L’instruction civique (f): civics class
La vieille ville: old town
Le rampart: fortified wall

I SEE STARS

Let me take you to a very unusual place in Paris. Chances are that you’ve never stepped into it; in fact, you may not even be aware of its existence. I regularly walked by this location during my student years in the Latin Quarter but, preoccupied with school and bus schedules, I didn’t “look up” enough. Looking up should be a mandatory activity when one is in Paris as so many treasures are discovered above eye level.

The Sorbonne Astronomy Tower from rue St Jacques

Of course, I was quite familiar with la Sorbonne, the famed university founded in 1257: during those innocent, pre-terrorism times you could wander around the campus without producing a school ID and having your bag searched. If you want to visit the Sorbonne nowadays and check out the 162 chapel or the opulent Grand escalier, you will need to book a tour. And if you walked along rue St Jacques and looked up, perhaps you noticed two vert-de-gris cupolas: the Astronomy Tower.

The chapel and cour d’honneur of the Sorbonne

But if you schedule a visit of the university, be aware that it will not include the Astronomy Tower as it is rented to and administered by the Société Astronomique de France. Securing a reservation to the Observatoire de la Sorbonne is akin to a Herculean task: visits take place only on Monday and Friday evenings and the size of the group is limited to five people. Five! In addition, reservations must be made by phone (about two months in advance) and purchased by check, in euros. Tours are led by volunteers of the SAF: they are passionate about astronomy, quite informative, and well-versed in the history of the university. Although la Sorbonne no longer teaches astronomy, members of the SAF use the facility to build their own telescopes.

Northeast corner of the courtyard

It took a full year and three attempts before I could score a couple of tickets timed with one of my trips to the capital. Persistence paid off: exactly one year ago, we arrived at 17 rue de la Sorbonne to meet our guide Patrick and three other lucky guests. After a security guard opened a large wood and iron door to let us in, Patrick introduced himself and led us to the Cour d’honneur. Flanked by the chapel at the south end, the cobblestone square represents the footprint of the university as Richelieu had it renovated around 1635. He was the proviseur in 1622 and continued to spearhead the work until his death in 1642. He is buried in the chapel.

Richelieu amphitheater

We make our way across the courtyard, toward the columns in the northeast corner. The area looks empty save for a couple of lingering students who are sitting under the arcades. Light shines through a few windows but the vast Renaissance-style building feels eerily mysterious. Once inside, we meander through a few galleries and I furtively glance at the Richelieu amphitheater with its wooden benches and monumental painting: the door is open, it’s tempting to enter, sit in, and pretend I’m a student again. We take an elevator, then a narrow escalier en colimaçon that finally leads to a very small, cluttered room: clearly, a group larger than six persons would be very cramped.

This glass blank will eventually become a mirror for a telescope

It is the workshop where SAF enthusiasts grind and polish the mirrors they will use in their home-made telescopes. A lengthy task: it takes about 100 hours of methodical work before the glass blank is smooth enough to be coated with aluminum. If you are curious about the process this link explains it all.

The disks covered with ceramic tiles are used to grind glass blanks

The room is filled with thick slices of plaster covered with small ceramic tiles to grind the glass blanks, various powders of different grain size used as abrasives, and pots of pitch to smooth the mirrors.

A view from the workshop: Notre-Dame and the Palais de Justice

Patrick invites us to sit around a table and pulls out a binder. He explains the difference between a lunette and a télescope, gives us a crash course in astronomy, and also produces pictures of many models of telescopes that SAF members constructed from scratch. Fascinating stuff but I am a bit distracted by the fantastic panorama of Paris that I can glimpse through the elongated windows: slate roofs, lighted monuments, busy boulevards glistening below…

More stairs to get to the top!

We leave the workshop and climb an even narrower wooden staircase that takes us to the pièce de résistance of our visit: the upper cupola.

The lower cupola, Saint-Sulpice, and the Eiffel Tower.

It’s pitch dark except for the exit sign and our eyes need to acclimate. Very slowly, and with the help of Patrick’s flashlight, a room worthy of Jules Verne novel emerges: a 130-year-old telescope positioned in the middle of a wood clad dome that looks like the inside of a giant basket.

The main event: a 130 year-old telescope.

A creaky staircase leads to the antique instrument. Heavy noisy chains and pulleys allow us to open the cimier. The cupola itself is on rails and can rotate 360º, allowing the telescope to point toward any direction of the heavens. It’s a scene right out of a steampunk movie promising history, science, and adventure.

Pulley, chains, and elbow grease are needed to open the dome. Note the steeple of St Germain des Prés framed by one “eye” of the pulley!

Not promised: clear skies. Instead, it has been an overcast day in Paris and the cloud cover will not allow us to see any star tonight. Patrick points the telescope toward les Invalides and the Eiffel Tower; he makes the necessary adjustments and invites us to climb a few stairs and take a look. Minutes earlier I had watched the sparkling light show that la Dame de Fer puts out on the hour; now I could observe the lacy details of a steel beam bathed in bright white light. I place my iPhone camera against the eyepiece, press the shutter, and hope for the best.

Detail of the Eiffel Tower metallic structure viewed through the telescope

We pull on the chain again and the cupola door slides and groans. The loud metallic noises abruptly stop: the tomb is sealed and dark again. We carefully walk down the stairs to pick up our bags in the workshop below. I take one last look at the Panthéon nearby and the Paris skyline at night: the panorama is simply superb.

The Panthéon, tour Clovis (at Lycée Henri IV) and St-Etienne-du-Mont.

But the visit is over and we make our way back to the courtyard. I stay behind the group wanting to soak in an extra minute of this enveloping experience, this secret visit. One last look at the chapel: Patrick and the guard are waiting for me to exit so they can lock up. It’s 10:30 pm and I hear the heavy door close behind me. Out on the street, my eyes look up and I finally see stars: the kind produced by lamp posts and neon signs.

Au revoir

Vocabulary
Le Grand escalier: grand staircase
La Cour d’honneur: major courtyard
Le proviseur: principal
L’escalier en colimaçon: spiral staircase
La lunette: (in astronomy) refracting telescope
Le télescope: reflecting telescope
La pièce de résistance: showcase, main attraction
Le cîmier: roof of the observatory
La Dame de Fer: the Iron Lady (aka the Eiffel Tower)

TRAVELS WITH LILY

I confess that I felt some anxiety about flying with our dog as we were relocating to France. Lily was never much of a traveler: for starter, she would routinely get car sick after a twenty-minute ride. Our ace in the hole was that she was used to sleeping in her crate and had no issue with being confined overnight. Her small size gave us the option of flying her in the cabin with us but I was still concerned about her spending some twelve hours enclosed in her carrier. All pets have different personalities but I thought I would share our experience about Lily’s Excellent Adventure and about her new life in France: other humans might glean some insight to make their four-legged companion’s travel less stressful.

Are we there yet? My uncles Rick and Jim gave us a ride to the airport in their motorhome. Loved it!

1/ First things first: not all airlines accept pets in cabin (or in cargo, for that matter) so check airline websites for their pet travel policies. Those that do allow pets in cabins limit the number of animals on a given flight. Except for service or emotional support animals, your pet will be confined in his carrier for the duration for the flight, and the carrier must fit under the seat in front of you (that pretty much nixes flying Business Class outfitted with a lie-flat seat.) And yes, the carrier counts toward your luggage allowance. Find out the maximum dimensions of the allowable carrier and train your pet to spend time in it. In our case, we switched Lily from her “spacious” hard crate to the much smaller soft carrier four months before departure, hiding treats inside to motivate her to explore her new digs and feel more at home.

Oooh! Lots of new scents at the farm!

2/ Book your flight several months ahead with an airline rep. Websites will not tell you whether the “animal quota” for a given flight has been reached. I wanted to use United Airlines miles for our flight. I checked online for award availability around our desired departure date; then I called their reservation center to inquire about having a pet in cabin on my preferred itinerary and confirmed that we could bring Lily with us; I booked our flights and asked the rep to add Lily to my reservation ($125 extra.) I printed my ticket receipt and made sure the “pet in cabin” was listed on it.

A mole hill! First, dispatch the dirt; then, sink the nose into the hole.

3/ Several health documents need to be filled and verified before your pet can fly with you and the requirement vary with origin and destination. Stacie, a Facebook friend who regularly flies to France with her compagnon à quatre pattes, shared many helpful pointers. Do not assume that your veterinarian is well-versed on that topic: do your own research on the government pages of the country you will be visiting. Regulations and forms are complex. I strongly encourage you to visit the Pet Travel Store and to order the appropriate forms from them: they will be tailored to your destination and pet species.

I just know there is a mouse hiding between these logs.

4/ Make sure that your vet is accredited by the USDA: our regular vet was on maternity leave and her substitute was not USDA accredited: we had to make an appointment at another veterinary clinic. Your pet must be implanted with an ISO 15-digit non-encrypted microchip. EU authorities will not be able to read other styles of microchips: you’ll either need to have the “correct” microchip inserted by your vet or rent/purchase your own microchip reader. A microchip certificate must be filled by the vet. Your pet must be vaccinated for rabies at least 21 days prior to entry and the vet must fill out the EU Veterinary Certificate from France (7 pages) not more than 12 days prior to your travel date. IN BLUE INK (I don’t know why but I’ve learned to never question bureaucracy…) Then, the certificate must be taken (or mailed) to your USDA/APHIS/US Area Office, along with a check for $38, for certification; use Express Mail both ways as you will need the certification to fly out. You also must complete a Declaration of Non-Commercial Movement. Additionally, most airlines require a Veterinary Certificate for Domestic and International Airline Travel where you vet states that your pet is healthy enough to travel, is free of parasites, shows no evidence of diseases communicable to humans, and has a valid vaccination against rabies.

I’ll just watch my territory from the front door. And work on my tan.

5/ All these forms constitute the “Pet Passport” and must be presented when you check in for your flight. It’s a good idea to have a set of copies with you as some airlines will want to retain the information and check-in counters do not usually have a copy machine nearby. The originals stay with you for entry into France.

My new cousins are cool. Aunt Françoise also keeps two cats and one hen. I’m not too fond of them; I like to chase them but that big chicken is a bit scary.

To make sure that Lily met all requirements, I booked our flights four months in advance, ordered the forms from PetpassportStore.com, contacted my vet to make sure the microchip was the 15-digit style, scheduled an appointment 10 days prior to our departure (we spent two solid hours at the vet’s office: they’re just not familiar with the forms and requirements) and sent Rick to the USDA office in Sacramento the same day. Just to be on the safe side, I asked our vet to prescribe some Cerenia, an anti-nausea drug, that we gave her before the car and plane travels. We also had a mild sedative on hand in case she got too agitated in the plane but we didn’t use it.

Where is this delicious French food I keep hearing about?

To make the trip easier on our little girl, we decided to break the journey in three chunks so she wouldn’t be confined for the equivalent of a day and a half: I booked a pet-friendly hotel at SFO airport where we spent the night before the flight and I also reserved a pet-friendly hotel near Orleans for the day of our arrival. Besides, I just couldn’t imagine driving all the way down to Gourdon right after landing at CDG…

After a nice Sunday lunch, I got to nap in the hammock with Cousin Brice.

Documents were thoroughly reviewed by the airline rep when we checked in but les douaniers didn’t bat an eye when we arrived in Paris. We were pleasantly surprised by Lily’s demeanor throughout the trip in spite of a flight delay of three and half hour: she made friends with several passengers at the gate who turned out to be seated in the row in front of us. Kudos to the crew on our United Airlines flight: they encouraged us to get her out of her carrier and to hold her on our laps for takeoff and landing. They also offered to give her some water. Well, I didn’t want to tempt fate and watched her water intake like a hawk but Lily is blessed to have a bladder of steel! The long car ride went smoothly as well. I was a proud mama.

Mom says I still need to work on my table manners.

This whole experience transformed our dog into an enthusiastic traveler: she even hops into the car with Rick when he’s taking garbage to the dump. She has adjusted to her new life very quickly. Most people think of dachshunds as lap dogs but they were actually bred to hunt badgers and Lily would make her ancestors very proud: she actively patrols her territory and sniffs out taupes, hérissons et lézards. She even caught une souris ! She’s great with the neighbors’ dogs, not so much with their cats. I think she was really meant to lead an active country life. She is active, happy, and enthusiastic. We’ll just need to enroll her in “finishing school” so she can become one of those well-behaved French dogs who patiently seat under a café table while her humans enjoy a beer en terrace…

 
Vocabulary
Un compagnon à quatre pattes: four-legged companion
Le douanier: customs officer
La taupe: mole
Le hérisson: hedgehog
La souris: mouse
En terrace: outdoors

IMPORTANT. The informations supplied above applied to our specific situation: flying from the US to France with one dog in July 2018. Requirements can vary depending on several factors such as pet species, number of animals traveling, country of origin, destination, stopovers, etc.