Skirting Around

Living as we do in the very centre of Paris, we tend to keep that as our main focus, but lately we've been exploring the outskirts of the city, and even the very edge of the country itself.

On Easter Sunday, for example, we barely glanced at the cute bunnies in the florist shop window on rue Montorgeuil...

...and even passed right by the chocolate fish at À la Mère Famille, although I did marvel at its expression!

Instead, we hopped on a couple of Velib bicycles and headed south, pausing a moment on the Île de la Cité, amazed at the sight of the endless long line of tourists waiting to go into Notre Dame...

...which, I have to admit, looked particularly shining and splendid on this Easter morn.

 On the rue Faubourg St. Jacques, we stopped for a café crème and two tartines "avec de la confiture", our standard breakfast fare. The word "Faubourg", by the way, indicates that a street -- in this case the rue St. Jacques -- has crossed over the original city limits and is now, essentially, in a suburb.

 Thus fortified, we continued on to the southern edge of the 14th arrondissement to the entrance of the Parc Montsouris, with its splendid horse chestnut trees framing the gates. Originally called moque souris ("mock mice") because the area was inhabited by rodents, it gradually evolved over time to become Montsouris, or Mouse Mountain!

Matthew paused at the gate, remembering (with shock) that he first came to this park some 48 years ago, with his pals Walter and Andrew when they were students at the Sorbonne!

Under the indefatigable Baron Haussmann, the park itself was created by landscape architect Adolphe Alphand in the 19th century. Inspired by English parks and gardens, the 37 acres are filled with over 150 species of trees and shrubs...

 ...along with many full size sculptures, mostly of grieving or dying figures in poses of great agony!

As well as wooded areas, grassy slopes and flower beds, the park also boasts a pretty lake, shaded by willow trees and a favorite haunt of resident and migratory birds...

...including this handsome goose, trotting happily along, without being the slightest bit fussed by us.

Today, the Parc Montsouris is surrounded by modern apartment buildings, whose residents take full advantage of the Park's wide pathways to walk, jog, visit their neighbors...

...or perhaps scooter over to take a pony ride.

And for those interested, I can report that during our visit, we saw neither sight nor sound of a single mouse....

Easter Sunday evening, I went to to this massive church, St. Augustin, that commands a busy intersection in the outer reaches of the 8th arrondissement. Built between 1860 and 1871 by Victor Baltard (legendary architect of the late and much lamented Les Halles), it has a vaguely Byzantine look, is 100 metres long, and was at the time of its construction the largest building in Paris built around a metal frame.

The interior is suitably grand, with soaring ceilings to 80 meters and an organ built by the English inventor Charles Spackman Barker who was one of the earliest to pioneer the use of electricity in organs.

This evening's recital featured not only the splendid organ, but also Les Trompettes du Carrousel, a group of musicians dedicated to performing on baroque or "natural" trumpets. Originally used as a military form of communication to sound the retreat or to break camp for instance, this slender instrument  found its way into the concert hall in the 17th and 18th centuries.

Listening to the players bring the music to life, it was impressive to realize the challenges they face keeping the harmonics in place, and "lipping" the off-centre notes into tune. The sound is quite unique, and hearing  it in this big space you could close your eyes and imagine you had travelled back in time to the court of Louis XIV!

On Tuesday of this week, our travels took us much further afield than either the 8th or the 14th arrondissement, when we took the TGV to La Rochelle, the big seaport city on the Bay of Biscay, part of the Atlantic Ocean. Although it seems to be an interesting and very historical city, we had a more distant destination in mind, grabbed a taxi and continued west to the Île de Ré, where our friend Philippe Leguay was shooting a movie and had invited us to pay a visit.

The Île de Ré is a totally flat island, some 30 km long and 5 km wide, with about ten small villages dotted throughout. It is the favorite holiday destination for thousands of tourists during the "season", but in mid-April was quiet and blessedly empty.

 The beautiful beaches stretched to the horizon with nary a soul on them...

...the streets of Ars en Ré, where we were staying, were similarly deserted, although we were told that in the summer they can be completely blocked with cars looking to park.

But if you have a bicycle you can go anywhere and everywhere, which we tried to do, visiting the pretty harbor...

...and ending up in the center of town in front of the unusual Church Saint- Étienne with its striking spire that acts as a guide to boats entering the harbor.

But we were here, less as tourists wanting to see the famous oyster beds, or the sea salt flats for which the island is suitably famous, but to catch up with a movie. So, although this looks like a typical market stall in the center of town...

 ...it's actually just part of the movie set!

As the director, on the right, and his AD give instructions to the crew and the crowds of extras to take their places...

...the cameraman climbs up behind the camera, waiting for "Action!", and the grips grab the handles of the dolly, ready to make the tracking shot super smooth all the way.

Once the director yells "cut!", the AD, continuity girl and other key crew members review the footage on the monitor before moving on.

As anyone who has visited a movie set knows, there is an awful lot of "standing around" whilst the camera set up is changed, or the director discusses the next scene with the actor - in this scene, Lambert Wilson, one of the leads, is about to be socked in the jaw by an obnoxious taxi driver!

But needless to say, we both felt very comfortable hanging around, passing the time chatting with the crew, or just following the action on little hand-held videos. Just like on an American film set.

Except for one thing that completely floored us:  the crew dinner the night before, served by waiters in a tent set up behind the main square, would never emerge from your typical American film catering truck. Here's the menu: hot vichyssoise soup garnished with minced chives, fricaséed duck with sautéed potatoes and dressed arugula salad, a glorious cheese platter, rhubarb fool with crème fraîche for dessert, and a bottle each of red, white and rosé wine on every table!!

Before we knew it, it was time to head back to La Rochelle and pick up the 8 pm TGV back to Gare Montparnasse. Once again, we were impressed at how efficiently public transportation works here, the train left right on time, arrived right on the dot, the seats were comfortable, the bar food was good,  and we were home in the flat by 11:30 pm.

So, it's been a busy week, and I even managed to get my window boxes replanted with new geraniums, herbs, etc. Now we just need the weather to settle down and decide that it really is spring, April in Paris and all that sort of thing, instead of switching back and forth from 40F one day to 65F the next!

 À bientôt!