Paris Journal 2010 – Barbara Joy Cooley Home: barbarajoycooley.com
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Today is the first day of the Tour de France, and it is also a slightly rainy day, so our adventures have been several brief forays out into the world for things like Nespresso capsules (coffee), newspapers, ham, fruit, cheese, rosé, and cash. We also took a short walk up to the Seine on rue Bonaparte, across on the Passerelle des Arts, into the fabulous Cour Carré of the Louvre, out the other side and across the rue de Rivoli, up the short rue de Marengo to rue Rousseau, through the charming Galerie Vero Dodat, back down the rue Croix des Petits Champs, back across the rue de Rivoli, through the Cour Carré again, the Passerelle des Arts again, through our favorite little arch in the Institut de France, down the rue de Seine with all its chic art galleries, onto the utterly charming rue de l’Echaudé, across the Boulevard Saint Germain, and down the rue Mabillon to our church, Saint Sulpice, that we live near. There is a jewelry store on the rue de l’Echaudé that I must go back to. I think the owner makes the jewelry sold there. There was a large selection of wild, big, dangling clip-on earrings. Just my style. But today, I had blisters and needed to go home to change shoes. Now we are waiting for the prologue to the Tour de France to begin. It is an evening event, unlike all the other days of the Tour. Everyone here has been so friendly. The proprietor of the Bon Pourçain restaurant on the corner, the couple who run the fromagerie in the Saint Germain market, the salesperson at the Nespresso boutique – all are so nice to us. Here’s a link to what I wrote about the restaurant on the corner a couple years ago. François and his daughter Fabienne are both still there. He has lost weight, and she has gained some. Both are good changes. We will have to eat there soon. Friendliness must be repaid. The Nespresso boutique was as chic as ever. We went in with our environmentally correct reusable shopping bag (this one from Monoprix), and the salesperson offered us one of Nespresso’s slick, thick chocolate-colored bags instead. At first I said no thanks, but then I relented. It is such a nice bag that I’m sure it can be re-used. I used one of my very special wine carrying bags when I went to buy rosé at Nicolas. The salesperson there seemed to remember me, and he was charmed by the fact that I had this special bag. It holds four bottles, very neatly, and it is a stylish black. The fruit vendor at the market insists on giving a plastic bag, but that’s okay. That’s the bag I use for holding the trash in the kitchen. The butcher was more than willing to let us take the package of ham without a plastic bag. Into the Monoprix shopping bag it went, to accompany the newspapers and cheese packages. For all of their environmental sensitivity, the French are still using too many plastic bags, as are the Americans. We all must work on this. REMEMBER YOUR CLOTH SHOPPING BAGS!!!!! I almost forgot to mention the pottery sale. Every summer, at about this time, the beautiful square in front of the dignified Saint Sulpice church is cluttered with ugly little booths. Each booth has a vendor selling supposedly artsy artisan-made pottery. But every year, I have to say, this is some of the ugliest pottery I’ve ever seen. What happened to the fact that the French are/were known for their beautiful porcelain? And I cannot stand the fact that nobody can see and appreciate the gorgeous fountain in the square in front of Saint Sulpice when these ridiculous “shows” are installed there. The one good thing I can say about these “shows” is that usually included is a covered outdoor café on one corner, and believe it or not, the temporary café serves good, reasonably priced, very traditional country French food. That’s what we had last night. I ate the roasted chicken leg with tasty green beans, salad with vinaigrette, and roasted potatoes. Tom had a nice chicken brochette (all white meat) with a delicate mustard-cream-herb sauce, and the same side dishes. We were, of course, the only non-French people in the place, but they don’t care as long as we speak French, which we do always in Paris restaurants. Sign
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Saturday, July 3, 2010
My
friend Darla would appreciate the fact that dogs are not allowed in a number
of Parisian parks, including the Luxembourg Gardens and the adjacent Marco
Polo Gardens. As this sign says, even
on a leash, the dogs are not allowed.
The
dog below saw the sign above on the gate to the Marco Polo Gardens, and he
immediately sat down and refused to be walked. Smart dog.
He even looks like the dog on the sign!
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