Sunday, October 18, 2015

Five Odd Things Of Paris

It has been observed that I've not been very good about continuing the saga of the Parisian vacation here and, by gum, it's true. I really find myself marveling at how some people find time and energy to update blogs all the time. It's not like I lack for material, at least by my standards, but just finding time to write anything is simply beyond me. And most people who maintain blogs are actually *doing* stuff all the time too; fascinating things that, you'd think, would exhaust their energies and yet. It's a young person game, maybe, blogging. However, I bravely persevere though this particular post is going to rely heavily on photos and have no unifying them other than "odd things we encountered in Paris" which could become an ongoing topic.

 Odd thing #1: BRIDES
It's possible they weren't all actual brides, of course; maybe they were doing photo shoots for the maker of the dresses or a company promoting Paris as a romantic city for weddings: I don't know. But fairly early on in the our visit we found ourselves on the grounds of the Louvre in the early evening and there were numerous groups consisting of a woman, usually Asian, in a white or red dress, a lighting person, and a photographer. On rare occasions there might have been a man in formal wear also lurking in the vicinity, but usually not. This photo, of course, is not at the Louvre but rather on one of the bridges.

Odd thing #2: OLD LADY'S GIN


We saw this charmingly named gin in a number of shops and, I confess, it was embarrassing to actually be in the market for gin and realizing that it might give me a certain undesired character locally. We eventually found a bottle of Tanqueray in our local "Vins et Alcools" store that was too upmarket to carry "Old Lady's." Had I been confident early on about our ability to transport liquor home, I would have bought a bottle of this brand.

 Odd thing #3: STAY-PUFF MARSHMALLOW MAN AT THE EPICENTER OF TERROR!


Okay, so it's not really the Stay-Puff Marshmallow Man in a jaunty beret and he's at the "Epicerie du Terroir" a few blocks from our apartment, which isn't necessarily the epicenter of terror at all; it still required a second look. And then a second visit so I could buy all sorts of odds and ends (mustard! cute candies!). I think this is where I bought a box of lime tea to have with my madeleines as well. (Scott feels lime tea tastes like dirt but I sort of like it. And now I have a craving for proper madeleines.) This shop is also just a block or two from the "Amelie cafe."

Odd thing #4: MY OWN TINY HOTEL!


How tres charmant was it to find the "Hotel de Metz" on display at the Museum Carnavalet where we went in search of Marcel Proust's bedroom furnishings? Tres charmant, indeed! Before you get to the bedrooms of deceased French writers and the third floor devoted to the French Revolution at this fascinating museum that charges no admission though donations are gladly accepted, you walk through a large space containing several little scale models of Olde Tyme Paris where, it seems, you could have found this lovely building. Had I been more ambitious, or just thought about it, we could have tried to track down the actual street. I would not be at all suprised to find it essentially unchanged.

 Odd thing #5: A MONSTROUSLY LARGE BEE


Okay, this bee was actually not in Paris but rather at Giverny, where M Monet kept his lily pond and lovely house and garden all of which, eventually, could be a post unto itself. But this bee was still pretty darned striking and just plain beautiful which maybe isn't so odd, on reflection. But hey! Pretty!

Various possible future topics: Monet's house and garden / Art of Paris / Architecture of Paris / More about Proust / Pied a terre en Paris / Miscellaneous whatever I find in photos. Stay tuned!





3 comments:

  1. Imagine my disappointment to learn that "epicerie du terroir" means "local grocery" and not "Hellmouth."

    I'd actually forgotten that we saw Proust's bedroom set in the Musee du Terror. And yes we should've smuggled home a pint of Old Lady. I don't know why I am so twitchy about bottles of booze in the luggage. PTSD from those old American Tourister ads with the gorillas, I guess.

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  2. Or possibly you don't want your fine suits and ties to be soaked with cheap gin and who can blame you for that? But next time I'm getting some Old Lady. We need to get Gradka a passport and figure out how we can live in Paris for a year.

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    1. She'll want to pilot the plane over, you know. That will be exciting.

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