More Cars on the Champs Elysées
Since my last stroll along the Champs Elysées, the car company displays have changed. This could get to be a regular feature. The current presentations took up the CO
2 reduction theme that's currently playing well in the media, with a number of hybrid and alternatively fuelled vehicles on display.
Peugot had a funky little fire truck in their front window, powered by a hydrogen fuel cell. Is that really the best way to emphasize the advantages of hydrogen? "It's so explosive you'll want to have your own fire truck"?
This electric car from Toyota has motors in each wheel, and lots of space inside.
Mercedes-Benz has a more conventional showroom with production cars and sales information available; but they also demonstrated a sort of environmental consciousness, because each car had it's CO
2 emissions shown prominently on a sign with its other specs. And most of their vehicles seemed to be in the highest, most polluting category.
Renault had some production cars on dispaly too, but continues to show off their formula 1 team. They had a couple of their race cars in the showroom, and information about the French Grand Prix. (Apparently a seat costs at least 190€, and up to 335€ for the really choice stands - and that's with an advance purchase; tomorrow they go up about 10%. And parking is at least 30€. This is the only sport that I'd turn on a television to watch, but that just seems like an awful lot of money.)
Getting Mum Oriented
We took Mum out to dinner at one of our locals,
Le Beaujolais d'Auteuil on Saturday night. We had a small challenge with my sister who is vegetarian; we could never have brought her to this place. It's very French: every meal built around a piece of protein that had once been on the hoof/foot/fin.
I had been looking forward to taking Mum to the market on Sunday morning, because I knew she'd enjoy it. Unfortunately the day was gray and wet, and many of the stalls were missing. And people must have known it wasn't a good day to shop because, whether chicken or egg, the crowds were half their usual throng. Still, I took Mum around my usual stops: the Irish yogurt guy, the cheesy cheese girls, and my poultry woman.
Passing the Baton
I took B to the airport bus, waved her good-bye and two buses later Mum stepped off. It wasn't exactly planned that way, but we just had time to put on fresh sheets before my poor old mother who hadn't slept on the plane tumbled into them. This morning she seems to have recovered well and has joined us in our time zone.
There are signs of winter's end in the Bois de Boulogne. Janet and I are both back on track with our work out programs (hers is indoors, mine is outdoors), so I am again monitoring the progress of spring in the park. Bringing a camera along on a run appears to have the same effect as bringing sunglasses or forgetting an umbrella when one leaves the house, but I did find a spot of sunshine to take a couple of pictures.
The Tower
B and I went up
La Tour Eiffel yesterday evening, because... ya gotta do that in Paris. I haven't been up since my first visit to Paris about fifteen years ago, although I've run under it a few times, and of course B had to check it off.
Below, looking up
The lines weren't too long when we got there, so we took the stairs without too long a wait. Despite a lot of kids and some very game seniors, the climb went quickly (and it's really not that far up). We were there long enough for the sun to set and the lights to come on.
On our way home I took a short movie of the tower twinkling (
click here to view).
Old Friends
When Janet and I first moved into our apartment we had our dining room table pushed up against a window while we unpacked and painted around it. As a consequence, we spent our meals looking out the window. Since there is another building directly across the street, we saw a lot of our neighbours. We became particularly familiar with a young couple directly opposite, who we dubbed Guillaume and Geneviève (who I've mentioned before
here). We watched them cook dinner and breakfast, got to know members of their family (we decided) who came to visit, noted the evolution of their decor, saw them in their nighties/boxers - we're not peeping, you understand, just looking out the window as we take a meal. Over time we developed some affection for them. We were fairly sure that we'd like them in person. However, once our own apartment took shape we have - with occasional pangs of regret - drifted out of touch with them. We still see them from time to time, but we're just not as close.
We had a chance to catch up yesterday evening - and what a surprise to discover that Geneviève is pregnant! You could even say she was 'showing' - but I haven't forgotten that this detail of their personal life is only accidentally public.
Out and About
Flower shop on Rue Cler
It has been a quiet weekend, passed recovering from our recent travels, but we didn't spend all of it inside. We've both climbed back on our work-out programs, Janet signing up at a gym and me heading into the
Bois de Boulogne in my new running jacket. Saturday evening we set off to explore the 7th arrondissement, an area we haven't really frequented much, even though it's the location of
Les Invalides, Les Musées d'Orsay, Quai Branly, the
Musée Rodin, and not to mention the Eiffel Tower. We walked down
rue Cler at dusk, a well-known pedestrian mall and market street. There aren't many of these pedestrian-only streets in Paris. You can see it would be a lovely neighbourhood to live in (but a glance at the prices in the window of a real estate agency dismissed any realistic thought of that).
Janet and the sparkling Eiffel TowerWe had a drink at a pub called
La Source, which had a view of the
Hôtel des Invalides, then aimed for a little Basque restaurant we'd read about. There we learned a lesson about obtaining reservations in Paris, tourist season or not. Since there aren't a huge number of destination restaurants in that neighbourhood we walked across the river and found a satisfactory Italian place instead.
Japanese Local
Notwithstanding our occasional complaints about the lack of ethnic restaurants in Paris, we regularly frequent a Japanese place that's just a couple of blocks away. Like any restaurant in Paris above a snack bar, the quality is high, both in food and service. Asian restaurants at this level of the market at home often forego elaborate ambiance, but our local is carefully decorated, if in a rather twee Japanese style.
So I mention this restaurant now, because, having gone there on Monday evening, it has been the highlight of our week - whereas B continues to dash around the city, exploring, taking pictures and making discoveries. Yesterday evening she ran out before we'd finished dinner because she had been invited to sing back-up in a band. How dare my sister show up in Paris with my missing life.
Thanks Heavens For Little Sisters
B and I went to the Rue de Versailles farmer's market yesterday morning. It wasn't her first trip, since I left her some details about places to go in the neighbourhood, and she's had a couple of weeks by herself to explore. I kind of doubt she needed my primer, since she was clearly quite at home; she even received nods of greeting from merchants that I haven't met yet.
She had a few friends and connections here before she arrived, and as a result has been off to theatre, clubs and events that we'd never stumble over in a hundred years. She even joined a blues choir, which rehearses every Sunday afternoon. And we've been wasting our time with museums and French lessons.
Street Markets
I regularly post about the farmer's markets, because there are several handy to our apartment and because they make colourful photographs. But there are other kinds of markets in the streets too. My sister is visiting - in fact, she has been here for two weeks looking after the cat while we were away - and has been doing some exploring on her own. She noted the location of a
brocante market, setting up across the river this weekend.
Brocantes is what we might call antiques, but the authorities who regulate these things ensure that something is not called an antique if it doesn't meet the
strict definition, so these bazaars are actually purveying flea market fare, a.k.a. "junk".
Now, I have to remember that many things that weren't technically antiques when I first entered an antique shop now meet the standard. Although I may not initially recognize certain items as such because of certain blindspots about just how much time has passed since those first forays, when you do the math it turns out they qualify. So, we saw many stalls that indeed had genuine antiques for sale, as well as high-quality pieces from early in the last century that will be promoted before long.
Janet and I have been through these markets before, when they've appeared in the neighbourhood, and found it takes a lot of sifting to find the gems; but this one was better than most. We spotted quite a few elegant Art deco figurines and lamps that I would have been tempted to cart home were they not priced according to their continued popularity. In the end, the only thing we bought was a brass bell, for B to take home to British Columbia.
B's bell is a little larger than this one
Back Home Once More
We spent the last couple of weeks on "home leave". Our tour took us out to the West coast to be with Janet's family, then back through Toronto to see friends and more family, and finally we diverted to New York for a tacked-on business trip.
Our homeward flight was long, because we flew through Frankfurt this time, instead of our cutomary Heathrow. But this morning instead of the wailing sirens of Manhattan we were woken up by the whining scooters of Paris. Home sweet home.
Peugot had a funky little fire truck in their front window, powered by a hydrogen fuel cell. Is that really the best way to emphasize the advantages of hydrogen? "It's so explosive you'll want to have your own fire truck"?
This electric car from Toyota has motors in each wheel, and lots of space inside.
Renault had some production cars on dispaly too, but continues to show off their formula 1 team. They had a couple of their race cars in the showroom, and information about the French Grand Prix. (Apparently a seat costs at least 190€, and up to 335€ for the really choice stands - and that's with an advance purchase; tomorrow they go up about 10%. And parking is at least 30€. This is the only sport that I'd turn on a television to watch, but that just seems like an awful lot of money.)
