Paris Day Two

Paris, day 2

I woke early as the walls of the hotel seemed to be made of cardboard.

I had made plans for visits to museums should the weather be poor. But the sky was blue and it was sunny although still cool, so I went for a long walk along places I hadn't been to before and which are slightly off the beaten track. Before reaching the Place de la Bastille, I looked into many courtyards where artisans and woodworkers were busy plying their trade. The alleyway called Passage de Chantiers was, apart from colourful, a haven of furniture makers, antique furniture shops as well as modern design shops. And this was not the only pleasantly surprising and hidden "passage" in this area, which apparently has been famous since the 17^th century for its craft guilds and woodworkers.

Two "passages"

From the Bastille I walked along the Port de l'Arsenal, the end of the Canal St. Martin, opening into the river Seine. Below the busy Boulevard de Bastille and above the quays along the canal where many colourful ships are moored, there is a very nice park with rose gardens, benches and other places to sit, a narrow but attractive green belt where locals were walking and reading – and cuddling of course.

A Keith Haring fan?

The rose garden

Crossing the river Seine via the Pont d'Austerlitz, I then went into the Jardin des Plantes, a very pleasant surprise. Leafy avenues border the wide middle sections with thousands of labelled plants, from all over the world, medicinal ones, edible ones, decorative ones, aquatic plants in nicely symmetrical ponds, it is all there with the stately buildings of the Musee National d'Histoire Naturelle at the end. Besides there is a small zoo – a "menagerie" - and there are large playgrounds for children. There were many groups of schoolchildren in the gardens with their teachers and/or carers, nursery classes and primary school children, playing, enjoying the fresh air and having picnics in the park, all still dressed in their winter anoraks and jackets. There is a variety of gardens, also a very well designed alpine garden, on a lower level and sheltered by rocky walls. At the end of the "Jardin" the Museum of Natural History has large greenhouses with exotic tropical plants and palms. 

Jardin du Luxembourg. Below, a corner of the alpine garden

It was time for an omelette and a glass of wine in a tiny cafe just outside the park, frequented by locals. Refreshed I walked to the remains of an old 2^nd century Roman amphitheatre, the Arènes de Lutècesurrounded by a park, and busy with office workers having their lunch, complete with bottles of wine, French cheese and  charcuterie, on the stone steps of the amphitheatre, on wooden benches and simply on the grass. Victor Hugo led the campaign for the restoration of the amphitheatre after it had been discovered in 1869. The original theatre could seat 15.000 spectators and it was used for theatrical performances as well as gladiator fights. Apparently the theatre is still used in summer - for plays? concerts? There was a stage, and all the technical paraphernalia coming with outdoor performances had been installed and built up. It was a surprisingly pleasant spot, and I had never heard of it, just spotted it on my map and was curious to see what it was. The stately apartment buildings on the hill around the amphitheatre are built in a crescent. 

Stairs leading up to the amphitheatre,
below: an apartment in the crescent with its own balcony garden

Next stop was the Place de la Contrescarpe , the quiet pedestrian street leading to it approached via stairs, decorated again with pot plants. In one of the big houses in this small street Descartes lived for a few years. A plaque on the wall has to keep his memory alive.

The Place de la Contrescarpe was pleasant, with cafes on each side and trees and a fountain in the middle. Here it was bustling with passing tourists and students, plus locals cycling. Two homeless men were warming themselves in the sun on pieces of cardboard. It must be such an awful life! I had another coffee, and walked on through quieter streets to the Eglise de St. Etienne du Mont, which I try to visit each time I am in Paris. The unusual choir screen amazes me every time again with its beauty of intricate stone work. I have never seen such a choir screen in my life and it is apparently unique in France. I do not know if there are similar screens in other countries. But for me this is of a remarkable and unique beauty. Here is also the gilded shrine for St. Geneviève, the patron saint of Paris. Although her tomb was opened and her remains burnt by the municipality of Paris during the Revolution in 1798 and her ashes scattered in the river Seine. So the tomb here is just a token tomb, in honour of her.

One of the windows displayed in the former cloisters

The church also has a beautiful pipe organ, like so many churches in Paris. Unfortunately most organ recitals take place on a Sunday or Saturday, not on a weekday, so I missed out on that. Maurice Durufle was one of the famous organists here. The organ was built in 1631 and is the oldest pipe organ in Paris and still in its original state.

The Pantheon next to the church on the same hill was open this time! I had never been in, so this was the first time I could see the Foucault Pendulum and the tombs of famous Frenchmen in the crypt, among them those of Marie and Pierre Curie, of Voltaire, Corneille and many others. The Pantheon doesn't seem to be on a human scale, it is so vast, high and grand. The pillars outside alone seem too big for me, I felt like Gulliver among the giants.

Although the working of the Pendulum seems to be simple, I did not get the gist of it. And I promised myself to read Umberto Eco's book, which judging by its title, must be all about the pendulum.

The view from the steps outside is fantastic, with the Eiffel Tower in the distance.

Not on a human scale

Next stop was a "papeterie", a joy for me. There are several stationary shops in this student quarter, and they sell the most desirable fountain pens, blank books, special pencils and what not. I could not resist the temptation.

My greed satisfied by a very colourful and unique fountain pen, made in France and not in some distant Asian country, I walked to the Jardin du Luxembourg. It was lovely, and the place was full of people: Locals reading books, tourists, young mums and nannies with small children sailing their boats in the pond. Old couples sitting on the chairs in the shade of the trees or of one of the many statues, enjoying this beautiful day.

Time was getting on, so after a short rest I walked to the St. Sulpice, a gloomy cavernous church in my opinion, but with the most amazing pipe organ. On Sunday there would be an organ recital by Daniel Roth. I am envious of an organist friend of mine who will be there on Sunday and may also be allowed to see the console, and perhaps even play the organ. I once went to a organ recital here, and the sound of this big instrument sent shivers down my spine. It was a romantic French programme, perfectly fit for this instrument. The sound filled the building and resonated. It was an unbelievable experience, which I won't easily forget.

Then a walk through St. Germain des Pres and around the church there, through the narrow streets with small but interesting shops, and on to the Rue de Buci with its colourful street market and its lively shops and small cafes and restaurants. From the well-know "Paul" I watched life passing by, locals and tourists, easily recognisable as such, while enjoying a pot of tea and a "tarte de framboises", the most delicious sweet I had had so far.

Alas, it was time to go back to the hotel to pick up my small case, make my way to the Gare du Nord and buy some food for the train journey back to Holland. My feet hurt, but it had been a very interesting visit which I thoroughly enjoyed.

Au Revoir Place de la Bastille

Two days in Paris

Paris, day one

Two days in Paris. Always a wonderful and exciting city with things to see, to hear and to do to fill a lifetime. Two days to make me aware again of the riches of culture, the many fantastic museums, the art of living, the grand scale of the parks, boulevards and architecture in general, the royal feel of a republic, far more royal than the Danish or Dutch monarchies, the size of a fresh and crisp "sandwich" with a filling of one of the delicious cheeses or well-cured thick slices of ham, the joy of sitting in a cafe, observing life while savouring a nice glass of wine, or a strong coffee with a delicious sweet pastry. The lively streets at night, the busy street markets with their wealth of fresh and ripe fruits and vegetables. The unexpected nooks and crannies, the rather dull streets where big wooden doors open into surprisingly colourful courts, full of plants, ramblers and pot plants, flowers, workshops, places where artisans find a living. Furniture workshops, antique shops, craft shops, leather goods, it is all there. And history, a lot of it.

Place des Vosges

Two days and one night. The first day was cold, but dry after three very wet days I was told. So I was lucky. After a very early three hour train journey, I began this first day in Paris by enjoying the busy Place de Bastille from a sidewalk cafe, still heated in spite of the time of year. On to the Place des Vosges, where people were happy with this nice day: mothers with small children, old ladies. ladies walking dogs, men reading newspapers on one of the many park benches. I visited the Victor Hugo Museum in the square, wondering again at the spaciousness and grandeur of the apartments. But could I live is such highly ornate and wildly decorated rooms? The rooms could be light and airy, but in Victor Hugo's time that wasn't the fashion. The Marais slowly came to life. I spent the afternoon in the Grand Magasins, and the boutiques around the Opera Garnier, such a majestic building. The place and the stores were flooded by Japanese, who stood in long lines queuing for dreadfully expensive handbags, ranging in price from 500-2500 Euro's! Apparently the Japanese are now the people with money and fond of designer labels.  I admired the fashionable shoes in La Fayette, but fortunately they were so expensive that I had to consider them just as the works of art they were. Besides stiletto heels, however much I love them, are no longer an option. All the colours from the spectrum were represented in those shoes. How I loved them!

Rainbow colours! Basic, not expensive, and I wanted them all!

I made my way back to the tiny and rather cheap but clean hotel, on the wrong side of the Place de Bastille, to change for the Opera, passing through narrow cobbled streets with a great variety of cafes, bars, restaurants and clubs, and had some cheese and wine, just before the rains came down again with a vengeance.

From inside the Opera: Place de Bastille in the rain

The Opera was very enjoyable, not least because the voices were superb and the plot was easy. Rossini is rather entertaining. Il Barbiere di Siviglia was sung in Italian with a French translation shown on a screen overhead, both foreign languages to me, but still OK. It was interesting to see this opera building, modern and functional and very big, but I much prefer the Opera Garnier, with its gilded chandeliers, foyers like mirrored ballrooms, and its opulence and splendour. Besides, it was difficult to keep awake in the dark and warm building as I had been on my feet since 4.45 that morning! But another glass of wine after the performance fortified me, and I was amazed that around midnight it was busier everywhere than during the day.

Whitey by Krijn Roeleveld: Illustrations | Make Your Own Book

One of my children's stories which was illustrated by my father who was then in his nineties. The story was originally written in Dutch. Later I translated it into English. It was inspired by the mad, tiny white dots all over England, which are supposed to be roundabouts. Sometimes there are two in a row, forming an 8. Very confusing! 

Malta, pipe organs and parties

May was an exciting and busy month, so full of events that I have had no time for any postings. The Choral Festival in Brussels, the practice sessions for the ECS week in St. Albans in August and a five-day choir visit to Malta and Gozo were among the highlights. I still cherish a lemon, picked for me by the Anglican priest in Malta from a tree in his back garden. It seems a miracle to find a lush garden at the back of what seemed to be a rather austere church facade. The street apparently is built on a ridge and the view from the back garden was fantastic. 

The Anglican Pro Cathedral in Valletta

Apart from two concerts and two services we had time to explore a bit of Malta, or at least of Valletta and surroundings, and also enjoyed a full day excursion to Gozo.  

An old street in Victoria, the capital of Gozo

Cacti in Gozo

The wild and rocky northern coast of Gozo

It was a wonderful mini vacation. Malta is too bare and too built up for my liking, but being there a as choir member is a different experience. I am only sorry I did not see all of the island, and so missed the most interesting part, the former capital Mdina and the south coast which is more authentic than the north with its many tourist hotels and apartments.

The organ in the church of St. Paul, Valletta

A typical street  in Valletta

Global warming hasn't meant anything yet to us this year. We have had some very hot summer days, but the temperature has dropped considerably, by some 15 degrees Celsius compared to last weekend, and it is wet, miserable and very chilly indeed. Why did I put away that nice warm coat? Or switch off the central heating?

Yesterday was Pipe organ day in Leiden. The town boasts many beautiful historic organs, and once a year a tour is organised with free 30-minute recitals on six different locations, five of them churches and the other one in the local concert hall. It was a busy day, and I had many obligations but managed to go at least to two concerts in the morning, in two remarkable churches, the well-known Pieterskerk in the centre of Leiden, frequented once by the Pilgrim Fathers, and the Lodewijkskerk, a Roman Catholic church hidden behind a nondescript front. Once inside the interior is unexpectedly light. The organ is remarkable and can be played from two consoles on two different levels. The church was completely destroyed when a ship full of gunpowder exploded and reduced a large area of Leiden to rubble. Lodewijk  Napoleon, then ruling the provinces, stimulated the rebuilding of the church, hence the name.

On 12 January 1807, a catastrophe struck the city when a boat loaded with 17,400 kg of gunpowder blew up in the middle of Leiden. 151 persons were killed, over 2000 were injured and some 220 homes were destroyed. King Louis Bonaparte personally visited the city to provide assistance to the victims. Although located in the center of the city, the area destroyed remained empty for many years. In 1886 the space was turned into a public park (Wikipedia)

The Dutch entry gives more detailed information about the catastrophe.

Pipe organ of the Pieterskerk, nestling against the west wall. 

The excitement of an "organ tour" is that the organs were built in different periods by a variety of organ builders. One organ may be perfect for baroque music, another one for French romantic music, or English music. The organists involved try to show the character and sound of each pipe organ by their choice of programme.

Pipe organ of the RC Lodewijkskerk

I did not have time to attend the afternoon programme as well, alas, and I did not have much time for lunch either. So instead of finding a nice cafe for coffee and lunch along the Rhine opposite the busy market stalls, cafes which would be absolutely packed with people, I went to a spot unknown to most tourists, the tea garden of the Hortus Botanicus, which is hidden behind the ancient Academy building, away from the main stream of tourists. Its walled tea garden is an oasis of quiet and rest. Basking in the sun, sheltered from the chilly wind, admiring the espalier fruit trees against the brick walls, enjoying  a strong coffee and a piece of delicious lemon cake, I fortified myself for the long walk back, along the mooring place of the historic ships and the Rembrandt windmill. So far for my good intentions to put myself on a strict diet.

Historic ships and Rembrandt mill in Leyden, Galgewater 

In the afternoon I went to the birthday party of a dear niece of mine, only to hurry on after a few hours to a buffet party for all the volunteers of the Cultural Institute of which I am a board member. I had to say no to a house concert I was invited to, to a special organ recital in the north of Holland and to the afternoon outing with the other volunteers. Pity things always come in droves. I wish I could spread out those events, so that there would be no more empty days.

Yesterday it was cold, but dry and sunny, today it is wet, very chilly and miserable. Even my choir robe made of artificial fibre and usually too hot, left me shivering. Will summer ever come? We can only hope and wait. My magnificent roses, covering the wall completely with a feast of purple and pink colours, hang their heads heavy with rain. The roses growing across the pergola let go of their pale pink petals prematurely. But the plants in the newly created border are doing well, together with the weeds! Some work for me once it stops raining.