This entry is overdue as we’ve been off gallivanting across France for the last few days and only returned yesterday afternoon. Our eventful trip away was preceded by a largely unremarkable week that I shall gloss over, except to say that September has been a gorgeous month here to my immense relief. Finally we have blue skies and sunshine. The cats agree and are out all day. They’re averaging 2 mice per day apiece and in Louis’ case, these are mainly being eaten in our room and at dawn, which is obviously unfortunate. The one important item of note is that on Friday, Nadine from the village called round to say hello and to drop off some peaches from her garden. She and Jean-Claude were about to leave for a week’s break so asked us if we could drop by theirs mid-week the following week to check on their horses’ food and drink supply. We said of course, but not before Thursday as we were off to Paris and then Lyon until then.
As soon as we mentioned this, Nadine said oh but you must stay at my apartment. We’d mentioned the trip to Nadine earlier in the summer but at the time she thought she would be in Paris directing the latest film she’s been working on. Unfortunately for her, the project has had numerous delays and problems, and after the last upset wherein the lead actress pulled out for health reasons, Nadine had to pull the plug completely. She’s really depressed about it and we’re gutted for her. On the other hand, we were only too happy to cancel our 300€ hotel reservation and stay at hers for free. Merci, Nadine!
We left on Sunday morning, hitting the road a little after 10.30. We were obviously a bit nervous about the car, as she’d not been on top form recently. We’d not even left the Dordogne when she started complaining. We stopped for petrol as we were very low and after hitting the road again, Lola deteriorated rapidly. The engine light came on and the accelerator was cutting out. We were bracing ourselves for a long and tense drive at this point. This also validates our petrol tank theory as being the source of her problem: it seemed to be the act of filling a nearly empty tank that caused her to play up by stirring up whatever gunk’s inside.
Luckily for us, she began to improve soon after we got on the motorway. There was an amusing stretch where the road was particularly hilly: we’d reach the speed limit going down but lose around 30k/hr going up again and kept overtaking, then being overtaken by, the same few cars again and again. We stopped off for lunch at 2, by now around 100km from the capital. We set off to find engine light out and car accelerating perfectly. From this point on and for the rest of our trip, Lola was as good as gold. We’re proud of the old girl.
We arrived at Charles de Gaulle around 4, parked the car then caught the overground train into the city. A short hop on the Paris metro took us to the ‘Nation’ stop where Nadine’s apartment is, to the east and somewhat south of the centre but still within Zone 1. As a little aside, while crossing Place de la Nation itself, I came across a plaque detailing the history of the square, and those that are aware of my views on the monarchy will see why I found this well worthy of a mention. Originally a simple green space, the square was cleared and a throne built there to honour the marriage of Louis XIV to his wife in the 1600s. It became known as La Place du Trône from then on – right up until the revolution anyway. After then, it housed a guillotine, dealt with over a thousand royalist necks and was rebaptised La Place du Trône Renversé (Place of the Toppled Throne). This name stuck until the 1800s when it was given its current, less violent name.
But anyway, I digress. So, Paris! And for the first time in 7 years, not to mention the first time as a countrified peasant and not an urbanite. Well first off, Nadine’s district is relatively quiet, has a few nice neighbourhood bars and is only a few stops from the centre, so she’s done well there. Her ground floor apartment is obviously not massive but has a double bedroom, a lounge space and a small garden. It also has wifi, which was a nice bonus. By 6 or so, we’d dropped off our things and were headed out for a well-needed drink after our journey. We made it to the Marais, the main gay district, in time for happy hour. These varied from bar to bar, but the main thing on offer was half price beer (RRP 7.50€), of which we enjoyed an unspecified number. While walking around, Matt commented on how many sushi restaurants there were, and sure enough he ended up twisting my arm and dragging me to one for our dinner. We picked one with a few more ‘me-friendly’ dishes like chicken skewers on the menu. My main was average, but Matt enjoyed his rare chance to eat raw fish. After a final bar crawl, we retreated to bed around 1, somewhat the worse for beer.
Monday was our full day, so after an emergency fry-up to clear the cobwebs, we headed off for our first bit of sight-seeing. We wanted to avoid anything we’d done before so there was no trip up La Tour Eiffel or stroll through the Louvre. Instead, we made our way to Paris’ famous cemetery, La Cimetière du Père-Lachaise. At over 40 hectares, it is the largest in Paris, and by far the largest I have ever seen. There are whole cobbled streets that weave through the imposing tombs, most of which are large enough to admit mourners inside. As well as departed members of the rich Parisian elite, the cemetery houses various famous foreign families of note, has a section devoted to victims of the wars and also houses 2 world famous if very incongruous names: Oscar Wilde and Jim Morrison. The latter’s tomb is actually a fairly modest affair compared to its neighbours and is fenced off to preserve it from harm. There was a perma-crowd of tourists around it, as you’d expect. The former’s is a much fancier affair, though it too is cordoned off as there’s a long-standing tradition of planting a kiss on it while wearing bright red lipstick. It seems the fence is only partly successful as it was still semi-covered.
Our next stop was the Parc des Buttes Chaumont, a former quarry-slash-wasteland to the north east of the city, it was converted in the mid-1800s and is now one of the biggest in Paris. It’s a nice green space with plenty of spots to sunbathe on the grass, and paths through it that were being used by a steady stream of joggers. It is high up on a hill with a small temple at the top, from which you get good views of the city. Another feature was a famous bridge, designed by none other than Gustave Eiffel.
We grabbed lunch at a random bistro and then resumed wandering. We had a small shopping list but didn’t tick any of it off. Instead we saw a fair amount of the city on foot: it was a gorgeous day so it was good to be out in it. That said, our feet were taking a pounding and we were reminded how tiring it is dodging through endless hordes of people on noisy streets. My dorment pathological hatred of car alarms and of people who dont look where they are going was flaring up. We returned to the apartment to chill out for a while and then headed out for our last evening. In order to get to the airport in time to collect Chuck, we had an early start the next day, so we planned a tamer outing this time. We went back to the Marais and took in a few new bars, then grabbed a burger each followed by a final drink or two and then back to Nation.
By 8am we were out of the flat and headed to meet Chuck, whose flight got in right on time. We were on the road a little before 11, en route to city number 2, Lyon. I enjoyed Paris, but I have to say I was far less enamoured this time than I was 7 years ago, when to me it was a prettier, more exotic version of London. This time, I couldn’t help compare it to Bordeaux, and Paris came second in nearly every way. Lyon however completely won me over. But that is for Matt to recount, so for now au revoir.