Paris

It's the day of the Paris Marathon. 42 kms. The real deal. The winner ran it in just over 2 hours and 4 mins.  

Then there is my own Sunday marathon.

From my hotel at the Pace de l'Odeon, it takes 32 500 steps to get to the Chateau de Versailles. I do not know this exact figure initially, but I do know that it's just over 11 miles, because Google maps said so and Google knows everything. Wouldn't it be grand to end my week in Paris with this walk? Maybe a little insane, but grand nonetheless?

My new book of Ballades (rambles) in and out of Paris suggests this walk. I would not have thought of it on my own. But their starting point is at the edge of Paris, whereas I want to begin right here, at my little hotel. Right after breakfast.

 

I set out at 10:30. 

After leaving my neighborhood...

 

 

 

I walk through sections of Paris that I have never seen before. They're not splendid. This is where the metro goes above ground...

... and you'll find plenty of authentic and inexpensive Thai, Syrian and Lebanese food...

And then I approach the river and it all changes once more. 

Here's a view of Eiffel Tower from the less visited areas to the west.

You noticed the Statue of Liberty? There are a handful of them around Paris, but this one is the largest. Still, I better do a close up:

Right as I cross the Seine, I come across the racers.

People are cheering them on  -- allez, allez! -- and I pause and join in too.

(I also pause at a cafe to pick up an espresso. This is what you do when you are out the whole day and need bathroom breaks.)

And as I continue, I come across two things: the racers again (they made a loop in this section of Paris)...

... and a bridge over the River Seine! Like the racers, the Seine does a loop here and so now technically I am going to be back on the Left Bank, even though I'm to the north of everything. Are you confused yet??

But here's another technicality: I am no longer in Paris. I'm in a suburb -- Boulogne Billancourt. Very wealthy (though France has less disparity between the rich and the middle class, so it doesn't have the feel of big money). Here are rather pretty houses that I passed:

And now I feel like I am far from the city. I enter a park (Domaine National Saint Cloud) and it is at first formal, but really quite vast and in the further end of it -- quire wild. And for a great weather Sunday afternoon -- pretty empty.

And oh, the views! 

Note how in nearly every panoramic photos of Paris, you'll see the Montparnasse Tower on the left and the Eiffel Tower on the right. And here it's flipped!

That's what happens when you go to a strange part of Paris to take your photos.

It's already after 2 and I am hungry. The breakfast bread product wasn't going to hold me until Versailles. Too, I'm going to remind everyone once again that I am 68 and this has been a very long walk already. Sitting down would be awfully nice.

I'm so in luck: I come across a park restaurant, just when I need it most. It's called the Brumaire and it has a lovely terrace spilling out into the greenery. 

I have a broiled camembert with honey and a tarte tatin for dessert. The dragonfly remains undecided.

On Sundays, midday meals offer fascinating people watching opportunities.

But I can't stay long. I have one more hour to go. There are hills here. My legs are asking -- are we there yet? 

One town (Ville d'Avray)...

 

 

 

Another forest (Foret domaniale de Fausses-Reposes)...

And finally I come to the sign Versailles. The town.

And just minutes later (but really five hours since I left the hotel), there it is -- Versailles, the chateau. This is what excess looks like!

Another time, I would have walked the gardens. I never much cared for the chateau (mind boggling wealth), but the gardens are vast and quite lovely. But not in October, not when I'm tired. One quick look...

... and I turn my back to it all and head for the train station to catch the RER commuter train home. (I alight at the Boulevard Saint Michel, so you get to see Notre Dame, in progress.)

And now my final Parisian dinner. You'd think that I'd take great care in picking the place, but in fact, I don't. I've eaten far better this week than I expected to and I am completely walked-out, so I want to keep it simple and keep it close. And Sundays are tricky: the French traditionally eat a big meal in the afternoon and downplay the evening supper. Many restaurants are closed. So I go back to Marco Polo. Sweet and comforting, warm and satisfying, with an older staff that really seems to like the people who come to eat here. 

I order a dish I like a lot and can never find anywhere outside of Italy, and now here -- raw artichokes with lettuce and slivers of parmesan. I can't even make it back home because our artichokes are too old by the time they come to the grocery store. (The main course is pasta with porcini and for dessert -- panna cotta with red fruits.)

I walk back through a subdued square, with the usual Sunday night exhale. It's a beautiful evening. Really beautiful.

 

 

And now I'm back at the hotel and it's very late and still, I'm full of thoughts about everything. I know one must be careful about making generalizations based on breif experiences, but still, I am thinking that at a level of feelings, things have changed in Paris. I swear, everyone is gentler with me. There are big and small messages of kindness put forth. I think it's pandemic related. France, like the US, lost so many older people! It's as if there is a need to acknowledge that. And honestly, sometimes I see a solo person, like the one in the Foret domaniale de Fausses-Reposes (above) and I wonder -- is he alone because he lost his wife? And if not that, did he perhaps lose a friend? Or just his peace of mind?

 

Tomorrow starts the new work week, tomorrow I return home. I'll publish my next post from the farmette.

Paris

Knowing what I do now, would I repeat this day, or would I come up with some other (possibly equally insane) idea?

It seemed clever enough: since there are fewer tourists in Paris and the day is gorgeous, wouldn't it be great to take in something that I'd normally avoid? Should I maybe go back to Sacre Coeur? I haven't been there, or in the (once upon a time) artsy Montmartre neighborhood in ages!

I set out immediately after breakfast. (Which, by the way, is very late. I blame it on the boisterous young neighbors' arrival in their room at 4 a.m.)

Sacre Coeur is that Catholic basilica perched on a hill to the north of Paris. You can see it from many points in the city. It's a hefty walk from where I am, but these days I'm feeling super human! Off I go.

I have to cross the Ile de la Cite, which on one end is home to Notre Dame, but on my end (to the west) it is peaceful and very lovely. Note the quiet square...

(Another Rorschach of sorts: what do you see, the couple in love or the serious conversationalists?)

(doggie definitely wants the boy's croissant)

(this strange new world...)

On the right bank I am impressed with the remodeled and reimagined huge department store, Samaritaine. In the US we'd feel sorry for those who tried to lure people to shop in person these days. But here, they still appear to like stores. Including fancy department stores.

And so I move from the blocks devoted to commerce for the super rich, to blocks with shops that are somewhat rough around the edges, and finally to the tourist awfulness that I just don't see any more in other parts of Paris. Not even by the Eiffel Tower or by Notre Dame.  

But okay, it's a sunny day and I'm enjoying the walk. Until I get to the final climb. 

 

 

 

I can deal with the million steps. That doesn't bother me. But the crowds! Oh, the crowds! I put on my KN95. I'm surely not among vaccinated Parisians. No one who lives in this city would chose to come here on a good weather weekend day. They're all enjoying the open spaces in parks or maybe the ice cream in cafes. 

Well, let's not gripe. Let's climb those steps for those views. Which are good, if you're the kind of person who enjoys looking at hazy rooftops and contours of distant monuments.

Enjoy these photos because I am fairly certain that you will not get me to come back here again soon.

I do think that as long as I'm up here, I should stroll a little through Montmartre. 

Or maybe not. Crowded here too, with many artists of modest talent hoping to sketch your portrait for a negotiated price. I'm not scoffing at this! I myself had such a sketch made of my daughter on her first trip to Italy. And cheap souvenirs? I've purchased plenty of miniature Eiffel Towers in my day. Snowdrop still loves to play with them. It's just that it's so crowded here! I can distance myself, I can dodge, but it's a workout!

Time to make the long trek home. And I mean looong!

It's lunch time. 

 

 

 

No, it's getting to be past lunch time. But I can't eat yet. I need to get a COVID test. The US will not let me back in unless I come up with a negative test within a 72 hour period before travel, vaccinations notwithstanding. We can discuss the sense of this another time. I want to return home on Monday, so I get the test. And man oh man, do they swab! All the way to your brain, I think. And to make the French really sorry for getting a test (instead of a vaccination, to gain entry into every eatery in the country), they charge a small fortune.

So, what a surprise -- I'm negative. Time to eat lunch.

Several people have mentioned a place just by the Luxembourg Gardens called Treize au Jardin. I want to try it.

It's owned and run by an American woman from the south. Every dish will have a biscuit with it (rather than slices of a baguette). But though the menu tilts toward southern American, it has that French food love running through it. I order eggs and veggies in some combination that I suppose makes sense to them. I like it! The clientele is mainly French but many of the waitstaff speak accent-free American, so I think there's some preferences given to expats. At any rate, it is a good place to find brunch foods at 3:30 in the afternoon.

So what now? Honestly, I want quiet. Something green maybe. Clearly I could do with a break from city chaos. And I have this book (you can see it on my breakfast table above) which I picked up at Le Bon Marche and it has like a million suggestions of walks you can take outside of Paris. There's one that sounds lovely. About a 40 minute commuter train ride south of here.

Wait, commuter train? Aren't I avoiding public transportation? 

Well yes, because on weekdays, it's very very crowded. But, today is Saturday and I want to head out of the city and so I'm not likely to stand shoulder to shoulder with others on an RER line. 

So I take that plunge into the world of regular people riding regular trains. And it feels fine, except of course there is the occasional person who will flaunt the mask mandate. I get up and change seats twice to avoid any close encounters.

The walk I picked from the book is beautiful! It begins in St-Remy-les-Chevreuse the very last stop on the RER B line. The book says it's simple and should take about an hour. So much for what the book says. It is simple, but it takes way longer than that. But it is very calm, with just a scattering of people strolling this way and that. Likely Parisians, escaping a la campagne. [Honestly, I could have gone to any town or village outside Paris and found some pleasant country walk. People in Europe are used to going for these promenades and there are paths everywhere enabling that wonderful habit. Though this one had some especially pretty moments.] Let's stroll together and enjoy the little river and the bridges over it...

Yes, I did an insane amount of walking today. My Fitbit claimed I'd reached some new superstar levels. Well good for me. However, time is short now. I dash in after I return, throw my stuff on the floor and go out again for dinner, barely making my 7:30 reservation at La Democratie Restaurant (some 17 minutes' walk from my hotel). Seems like an apt name these days, no? Actually though, the name is from a newspaper once published in the building. Not that the restaurant is in a building. It's mostly outside in their garden. Nice, but a little chilly toward the end. The staff will bring you a vintage fur coat if you get really cold, but I'm with Ed in the matter of fur coats (meh) so I chill it out without one.

The food is very good. Just a few items on the menu, but all of them very very well prepared. (I have country pate, fish and a fantastic chocolate tart.)

 

I walk home absolutely spent. Did I pack in too much? Have I worn myself thin? No! I'm in Paris. I wont be in Paris soon. It's wonderful to have had this day of magnificent sunshine and enough adventure to last me a long long time. Well, maybe not a long long time, but certainly a while!

Good night, from Paris, with love.