Saturday, September 29, 2007
Tuesday 25 September 2007
The weekend of 15 & 16 September - when Madeleine was with us - was the weekend of the Journées du Patrimoine; when historical buildings are open to the public and when last year I had a ride in an antique bus and a tour round the Passages Couverts. This year there seemed nothing worth looking at anywhere near us in Normandy, so I think in future we must try to be in Paris - perhaps with guests - for the third weekend in September.
Last Wednesday (19 September) we set off from Normandy for Saint-Denis in the afternoon. When N was last there and I was in the UK, he bought a new digital set-top box for the TV, which I found very difficult to get used to, especially as it kept giving messages in German. (Whether it was a German box, or whether N had set it like that to get us in training for Vienna, I’m not sure. Anyway, by the time we left, we were both getting used to it.) In the evening we watched a very good German programme on the life and career of Maria Callas; especially interesting from the point of view of fashion.
The next day - N's birthday - the chimney sweep duly arrived at 9.00 a.m. and did his stuff; this involved moving the oven and various other things, so much cleaning, sorting and tidying was done afterwards. I went Local Shopping in Saint-Denis, and visited a closing down sale in the shop where I had bought very good pillows for LNL; they didn’t have any more, only lots of bedding, curtains and towels which we don’t need. Also some looking in shoe shops. N had checked the central heating and found a problem with time switch and pump, but managed to contact his Portuguese plumber, the one who had originally installed it all but who had proved very elusive when he was needed the winter before last.
We had a quiet afternoon and a large birthday tea before setting off to Opera Bastille by metro in the evening, to see Elisir d‘Amore by Donizetti, which I thought was excellent, but I think N found a little lowbrow. I don’t usually care for opera or theatre productions in a different time from the original, but this performance was set in Italy in the 1950’s (as opposed to the 1840’s) and it worked very well; complete with Vespas, bicycles and the Doctor arriving in a van, and even a little dog who ran across the stage twice! (We waited for him at the curtain call, but he must have gone home early.) The singing was very good too, (not the dog) in particular the tenor making his début at Bastille in the role originally taken by Pavarotti, and receiving much applause and Bravos! for « Una Furtiva Lagrima. »
On Friday morning I went to Saint-Denis market to buy myself some cheap Italian slippers as a replacement for those originally bought in Aulla two years ago, while N waited in for the Portuguese plumber who was there fixing the heating when I returned.
After lunch we set off into Paris to visit the Louvre; a trip I had wanted to make since January when I packed up a reproduction of Souvenir de Mortefontaine by Corot, at my mother’s house which was delivered to LNL along with everything else by Steve & Phil in April, as I knew the original painting was in the Louvre. First of all we took the RER train to Châtelet and called in at the Rue de Rivoli C & A for a suit for N - he had been observing those worn at the Opera the night before, and decided he need a new one. We managed to find a good inexpensive suit in light green cord, and then walked down to the Louvre. There were many Irish rugby supporters in Paris, and we realised that there must be a France/Ireland match that evening. Several of them were using their pre-match time wisely by visiting the Louvre! After much looking at plans and walking along corridors and up and down stairs we eventually found Souvenir de Mortefontaine; small French 19th century paintings not in the same part of the Louvre as large French 19th century paintings, hence the difficulty.
We looked at other paintings - the coronation of Napoleon and the Wreck of the Medusa, and bought postcards, then walked along to shops near the Bourse so that N could buy more stamp albums, and finally stopped for drinks at a café next door. We observed the new public hire bicycles over the road having seen lots about them on the news; the system was inaugurated in July, but this was the first time we had seen it. Bicycles are available at hundreds of depots around Paris, and when equipped with a card, one just takes a bike, rides it round as necessary and leaves it at another depot.
On the metro on the way home we saw more Irish supporters, and I managed to read on the back of one of their shirts that the match was indeed at the Stade de France in Saint-Denis. Once home we found that neither of us had our door-keys - N’s had mysteriously disappeared somehow during the afternoon, and when I couldn’t find mine in my bag thought I must have left them in the (different) jacket I’d worn that morning, not worrying when we went out because I knew he had his.
N fetched the gardienne and a large ladder; the first floor dining room window was going to have to be broken, and he had already arranged with her to contact the useful (also Portuguese) Ursulines maintenance man to mend it. Several neighbours came to see what was going on, and then the gardienne’s husband arrived and offered to go up the ladder and break the window. N said later perhaps they thought he was too old to go up ladders.
Once the window was broken the gardienne’s husband still needed keys to unlock the two front doors; I told him mine should be in my pocket, but they weren’t, so N told him where to find the spare set; the doors were unlocked and were able to get in and clear up all the broken glass. Only then when I tipped my bag upside down on the floor did I find my keys at the bottom of it - I have since bought a largish key ring, and offered to pay the broken window bill, which we still haven’t received. N was busy trying to phone C & A to see if his keys had got lost when he was trying on suits; it was extremely difficult to find their phone number, and when we did, no satisfactory reply. He consoled himself with the fact that they had a disc attached, courtesy of a bank scheme, which if found and posted in any post box, should allow the keys to find their way back to him.
The TV news told us more about the rugby match; France needed to win to reach semi-final. On Saturday morning N heard a radio bulletin which said they had won, and when I went out into Saint-Denis there seemed to be a positive atmosphere about. I felt sorry for the nice Irish supporters we had seen outside Paddy’s Bar on our way home. N was waiting in for the Portuguese maintenance man to mend broken window, and when I came home he still hadn‘t arrived, so in the afternoon I decided to go out to Versailles.
I had heard a lot recently on France Musique about a series of Baroque Music concerts to be held in and around the château and got more details from useful free music paper handed out at the opera and then consulted the website I found in it. I have a soft spot for the town and château of Versailles, as nearly 40 years ago I spent six weeks there; before, during and after May 1968. I last visited it about seven years ago, while staying in Saint-Denis.
There were concerts going on most of the day, but first of all I had promised N that I would call in at C & A to see if his keys had been found. The lost property department was very thorough, but there were no keys looking remotely like his, so I set off for Versailles via metro and bus. The weather was getting warmer and warmer.
The bus - which should have taken me direct to the château - was only a "service partiel", and went through Sèvres and other pretty suburbs. I and all the rest of the passengers walked rest of way towards the château, and saw why the road was closed; there was a deafening noise like motor racing, and it turned out to be a sort of rally demonstrating a new type of car we had seen on television, which reacted automatically to obstacles in the road. Very important and useful, but very loud and making it very hard to get to the music at the château.
I then had to make my way through a « rugby village »; lots of people sitting around drinking, shouting and watching a large screen and by the time I eventually reached the gates of the château, not only was it very hot indeed, but much later than I’d intended, and very crowded and noisy with the aforementioned rally, tourist buses, crowds of people and souvenir sellers. I managed to see the France Musique stand and the FNAC stand, and indeed to hear a little Baroque Music over loudspeakers, but it was by then 3.15, the next concert was at 5.00 and I didn‘t think I wanted to hang around all that time in the heat and noise. N said later why didn’t I sit in the gardens with an ice cream; I wasn‘t sure I even wanted to get that far, and in any case the 5.00 concert was ballet, the really good ones had been around midday.
When I’d last been to Versailles, I’d found and come back by a station to the right on coming out of the château, but there was no sign of this in all the road chaos, so I went back down the Avenue towards a sign I’d seen to the left. I walked for ages in the hot sun all through a shopping area and a market and finally found the station, Versailles Rive Droite, very spacious and elegant. I waited 10 minutes or so for train into the Gare Saint Lazare; it was a large comfortable train, and there were many pretty stations along the line, a much better class of suburbs here in the west of Paris than around Saint-Denis in the north. I then realised I knew this line from two different occasions in the past; during my stay at Versailles in 1968 the local station had been Montreuil - the next stop after Versailles RD - and then further along the line the journey between Asnières and La Défense via Courbevoie had been part of my route to work in Neuilly when I lived in Asnières in 1974.
Arriving at Saint Lazare from Versailles was a little like arriving from Normandy, but further along the station at the suburban end. I decided while so near the shops I would make the most of an abortive day out by continuing looking for shoes; while in Saint-Denis I had been trying to find something to replace a pair of black low-heeled very comfortable « shopping and sightseeing » shoes. I tried Au Printemps where there were far too many customers and designer prices, then stopped off at the Forum des Halles on my way home on the RER. I remembered a very large shoe shop full of variety, called San Marina; I successfully found it and, finally, a pair of suitable shoes, thinking that as were going back to LNL the next day this would be last time I‘d be shopping in Paris for some time.
I got home and found N still with the broken window, and the maintenance man now not coming until Monday, (he had offered to come the next day, but N had said no, he didn‘t want to bring him out on a Sunday) so we were now not leaving before Monday!
This meant we now had a completely free Sunday not waiting in for anybody, and as the weather was still warm and sunny, although a little cloudier than Saturday, we decided to go into Paris for lunch.
We took the RER to Châtelet, had a long walk round the Rue de Rivoli again, towards the river and the Ile de la Cité, and ended up with a lovely lunch at Bertillon, a café specialising in ice creams, also serving light lunches, where we sat outside. (This was where I’d had tea with Bill and his friend Tony, when we’d had a day in Paris last year.) N had an omelette, I had wonderful Salade Creole, (fish, fruit and vegetables all mixed together, like having all three courses at once) then we had delicious ices. The café was on a crowded corner just by the river, so there was a lot to look at, together with music from accordions over the road. We thoroughly enjoyed it all, and thought we ought to do this sort of thing more - so often when we come to Paris N is busy dealing with things in his study and not inclined to go out, whereas I feel there is so much to see and experience! I also realised during the meal that I have now been living in France for exactly two years, so we made it a kind of retrospective celebration lunch. Afterwards we walked around Notre Dame where there were large queues waiting to get in, and then down the main streets of Ile de la Cité, through the flower market, looking at plants, birds and animals and taking photos, and then back to Châtelet and home on the RER.
Once home, N got back to sorting and valuing his stamps again, stopping to tell me from time to time that various farthing stamps from Malta and Belize were now worth several pounds, while I checked my e-mails and discovered that our services would not be required this winter for looking after cats in Tuscany after all. At least it makes forward planning easier!
The weekend of 15 & 16 September - when Madeleine was with us - was the weekend of the Journées du Patrimoine; when historical buildings are open to the public and when last year I had a ride in an antique bus and a tour round the Passages Couverts. This year there seemed nothing worth looking at anywhere near us in Normandy, so I think in future we must try to be in Paris - perhaps with guests - for the third weekend in September.
Last Wednesday (19 September) we set off from Normandy for Saint-Denis in the afternoon. When N was last there and I was in the UK, he bought a new digital set-top box for the TV, which I found very difficult to get used to, especially as it kept giving messages in German. (Whether it was a German box, or whether N had set it like that to get us in training for Vienna, I’m not sure. Anyway, by the time we left, we were both getting used to it.) In the evening we watched a very good German programme on the life and career of Maria Callas; especially interesting from the point of view of fashion.
The next day - N's birthday - the chimney sweep duly arrived at 9.00 a.m. and did his stuff; this involved moving the oven and various other things, so much cleaning, sorting and tidying was done afterwards. I went Local Shopping in Saint-Denis, and visited a closing down sale in the shop where I had bought very good pillows for LNL; they didn’t have any more, only lots of bedding, curtains and towels which we don’t need. Also some looking in shoe shops. N had checked the central heating and found a problem with time switch and pump, but managed to contact his Portuguese plumber, the one who had originally installed it all but who had proved very elusive when he was needed the winter before last.
We had a quiet afternoon and a large birthday tea before setting off to Opera Bastille by metro in the evening, to see Elisir d‘Amore by Donizetti, which I thought was excellent, but I think N found a little lowbrow. I don’t usually care for opera or theatre productions in a different time from the original, but this performance was set in Italy in the 1950’s (as opposed to the 1840’s) and it worked very well; complete with Vespas, bicycles and the Doctor arriving in a van, and even a little dog who ran across the stage twice! (We waited for him at the curtain call, but he must have gone home early.) The singing was very good too, (not the dog) in particular the tenor making his début at Bastille in the role originally taken by Pavarotti, and receiving much applause and Bravos! for « Una Furtiva Lagrima. »
On Friday morning I went to Saint-Denis market to buy myself some cheap Italian slippers as a replacement for those originally bought in Aulla two years ago, while N waited in for the Portuguese plumber who was there fixing the heating when I returned.
After lunch we set off into Paris to visit the Louvre; a trip I had wanted to make since January when I packed up a reproduction of Souvenir de Mortefontaine by Corot, at my mother’s house which was delivered to LNL along with everything else by Steve & Phil in April, as I knew the original painting was in the Louvre. First of all we took the RER train to Châtelet and called in at the Rue de Rivoli C & A for a suit for N - he had been observing those worn at the Opera the night before, and decided he need a new one. We managed to find a good inexpensive suit in light green cord, and then walked down to the Louvre. There were many Irish rugby supporters in Paris, and we realised that there must be a France/Ireland match that evening. Several of them were using their pre-match time wisely by visiting the Louvre! After much looking at plans and walking along corridors and up and down stairs we eventually found Souvenir de Mortefontaine; small French 19th century paintings not in the same part of the Louvre as large French 19th century paintings, hence the difficulty.
We looked at other paintings - the coronation of Napoleon and the Wreck of the Medusa, and bought postcards, then walked along to shops near the Bourse so that N could buy more stamp albums, and finally stopped for drinks at a café next door. We observed the new public hire bicycles over the road having seen lots about them on the news; the system was inaugurated in July, but this was the first time we had seen it. Bicycles are available at hundreds of depots around Paris, and when equipped with a card, one just takes a bike, rides it round as necessary and leaves it at another depot.
On the metro on the way home we saw more Irish supporters, and I managed to read on the back of one of their shirts that the match was indeed at the Stade de France in Saint-Denis. Once home we found that neither of us had our door-keys - N’s had mysteriously disappeared somehow during the afternoon, and when I couldn’t find mine in my bag thought I must have left them in the (different) jacket I’d worn that morning, not worrying when we went out because I knew he had his.
N fetched the gardienne and a large ladder; the first floor dining room window was going to have to be broken, and he had already arranged with her to contact the useful (also Portuguese) Ursulines maintenance man to mend it. Several neighbours came to see what was going on, and then the gardienne’s husband arrived and offered to go up the ladder and break the window. N said later perhaps they thought he was too old to go up ladders.
Once the window was broken the gardienne’s husband still needed keys to unlock the two front doors; I told him mine should be in my pocket, but they weren’t, so N told him where to find the spare set; the doors were unlocked and were able to get in and clear up all the broken glass. Only then when I tipped my bag upside down on the floor did I find my keys at the bottom of it - I have since bought a largish key ring, and offered to pay the broken window bill, which we still haven’t received. N was busy trying to phone C & A to see if his keys had got lost when he was trying on suits; it was extremely difficult to find their phone number, and when we did, no satisfactory reply. He consoled himself with the fact that they had a disc attached, courtesy of a bank scheme, which if found and posted in any post box, should allow the keys to find their way back to him.
The TV news told us more about the rugby match; France needed to win to reach semi-final. On Saturday morning N heard a radio bulletin which said they had won, and when I went out into Saint-Denis there seemed to be a positive atmosphere about. I felt sorry for the nice Irish supporters we had seen outside Paddy’s Bar on our way home. N was waiting in for the Portuguese maintenance man to mend broken window, and when I came home he still hadn‘t arrived, so in the afternoon I decided to go out to Versailles.
I had heard a lot recently on France Musique about a series of Baroque Music concerts to be held in and around the château and got more details from useful free music paper handed out at the opera and then consulted the website I found in it. I have a soft spot for the town and château of Versailles, as nearly 40 years ago I spent six weeks there; before, during and after May 1968. I last visited it about seven years ago, while staying in Saint-Denis.
There were concerts going on most of the day, but first of all I had promised N that I would call in at C & A to see if his keys had been found. The lost property department was very thorough, but there were no keys looking remotely like his, so I set off for Versailles via metro and bus. The weather was getting warmer and warmer.
The bus - which should have taken me direct to the château - was only a "service partiel", and went through Sèvres and other pretty suburbs. I and all the rest of the passengers walked rest of way towards the château, and saw why the road was closed; there was a deafening noise like motor racing, and it turned out to be a sort of rally demonstrating a new type of car we had seen on television, which reacted automatically to obstacles in the road. Very important and useful, but very loud and making it very hard to get to the music at the château.
I then had to make my way through a « rugby village »; lots of people sitting around drinking, shouting and watching a large screen and by the time I eventually reached the gates of the château, not only was it very hot indeed, but much later than I’d intended, and very crowded and noisy with the aforementioned rally, tourist buses, crowds of people and souvenir sellers. I managed to see the France Musique stand and the FNAC stand, and indeed to hear a little Baroque Music over loudspeakers, but it was by then 3.15, the next concert was at 5.00 and I didn‘t think I wanted to hang around all that time in the heat and noise. N said later why didn’t I sit in the gardens with an ice cream; I wasn‘t sure I even wanted to get that far, and in any case the 5.00 concert was ballet, the really good ones had been around midday.
When I’d last been to Versailles, I’d found and come back by a station to the right on coming out of the château, but there was no sign of this in all the road chaos, so I went back down the Avenue towards a sign I’d seen to the left. I walked for ages in the hot sun all through a shopping area and a market and finally found the station, Versailles Rive Droite, very spacious and elegant. I waited 10 minutes or so for train into the Gare Saint Lazare; it was a large comfortable train, and there were many pretty stations along the line, a much better class of suburbs here in the west of Paris than around Saint-Denis in the north. I then realised I knew this line from two different occasions in the past; during my stay at Versailles in 1968 the local station had been Montreuil - the next stop after Versailles RD - and then further along the line the journey between Asnières and La Défense via Courbevoie had been part of my route to work in Neuilly when I lived in Asnières in 1974.
Arriving at Saint Lazare from Versailles was a little like arriving from Normandy, but further along the station at the suburban end. I decided while so near the shops I would make the most of an abortive day out by continuing looking for shoes; while in Saint-Denis I had been trying to find something to replace a pair of black low-heeled very comfortable « shopping and sightseeing » shoes. I tried Au Printemps where there were far too many customers and designer prices, then stopped off at the Forum des Halles on my way home on the RER. I remembered a very large shoe shop full of variety, called San Marina; I successfully found it and, finally, a pair of suitable shoes, thinking that as were going back to LNL the next day this would be last time I‘d be shopping in Paris for some time.
I got home and found N still with the broken window, and the maintenance man now not coming until Monday, (he had offered to come the next day, but N had said no, he didn‘t want to bring him out on a Sunday) so we were now not leaving before Monday!
This meant we now had a completely free Sunday not waiting in for anybody, and as the weather was still warm and sunny, although a little cloudier than Saturday, we decided to go into Paris for lunch.
We took the RER to Châtelet, had a long walk round the Rue de Rivoli again, towards the river and the Ile de la Cité, and ended up with a lovely lunch at Bertillon, a café specialising in ice creams, also serving light lunches, where we sat outside. (This was where I’d had tea with Bill and his friend Tony, when we’d had a day in Paris last year.) N had an omelette, I had wonderful Salade Creole, (fish, fruit and vegetables all mixed together, like having all three courses at once) then we had delicious ices. The café was on a crowded corner just by the river, so there was a lot to look at, together with music from accordions over the road. We thoroughly enjoyed it all, and thought we ought to do this sort of thing more - so often when we come to Paris N is busy dealing with things in his study and not inclined to go out, whereas I feel there is so much to see and experience! I also realised during the meal that I have now been living in France for exactly two years, so we made it a kind of retrospective celebration lunch. Afterwards we walked around Notre Dame where there were large queues waiting to get in, and then down the main streets of Ile de la Cité, through the flower market, looking at plants, birds and animals and taking photos, and then back to Châtelet and home on the RER.
Once home, N got back to sorting and valuing his stamps again, stopping to tell me from time to time that various farthing stamps from Malta and Belize were now worth several pounds, while I checked my e-mails and discovered that our services would not be required this winter for looking after cats in Tuscany after all. At least it makes forward planning easier!
# posted by Chez Katherine @ 5:32 AM 
