The Paris Journal - Lucky, Lovely, Infectious

Having a child studying abroad is a great incentive to visit them. It makes the decision to go all the more easy – that is, when going to Europe would otherwise be considered a treat or an extreme extravagance, in this case going is somewhat more reasonable and justified (like I need a reason?) Luckily, it was my husband’s decision to go this time as he decided we needed to visit Ryan over Easter weekend. George, remarkably, hadn’t been to Europe since 2007, when we went to see Ryan sing at St. Peter’s Basilica and Piazza del Popolo in Rome, he having finished an earlier tour and we, meeting up with him there.

I just arrived back in NJ from Paris late yesterday. As usual, it was a big letdown for me to come back – not because I don’t love my home, I do, but because I never have the feeling that I got to do all that I intended, and, because I am absolutely in love with the feeling I get in European cities. In an earlier life, perhaps, I lived in one of them.

As much as I hate to fly, yesterday as I trundled on down the jetway into Newark Airport after 8 1/2 hours and no Downton Abbey to watch on tv (what I happily did on the flight home from London), I would have easily turned around and gotten back on and gone back. That, for me, is a statement. Such is the feeling I have. I hope someday I can satiate this desire, or perhaps I should say, perhaps I should hope to never satiate this desire, for, for me, I would be giving in to the mundane. Paris is for the lucky, is lovely, and definitely infectious.

How to sum up my trip to Paris? Just plain amazingly wonderful and way too short. In addition to the above statement – of the lucky, the lovely and on being infectious, Paris is a city that can be summed up, for me anyway, as refined, reserved and patrician, yet one that lures you fully into its indulgences and beauty. I shall try to tell you why.

I have not been to Paris for about 14 years. When I was last there, I was sick with some sort of throat infection and was literally unable to make it around for a couple of the days of the short time of our trip over from London. So, this trip, aside from meeting up with Ryan and enjoying a few days visit with him over the Easter weekend, was meant to see and do as much as possible.

Firstly, I just love the walking part of visiting in European cities. This is how I best enjoy learning my way around. It is also my way of “feeling” the city – to try to get its sensibility. This is one of my most favorite things about travel.

It was cold each of the days we were there, colder than expected, but we were blessed with no rain or snow. So, walk we did. As with my visit to London in January, there was little life outside, on the trees and such, and surprisingly, even less so than in London two months ago, where the window boxes were often filled with Helebores and such and cyclamen was planted in the beds all around. I did see some Primroses planted around and about in Paris, but they seemed lonely, chilly and contrived. In the Luxembourg section, I saw a bed of daffodils – the only sign of a natural response to it being Springtime. Otherwise, the chill in the air definitely said Winter all-around.

I was surprised to not see a little more life and effort to force the season ahead, but this could just be the difference between the character of the two cities – and the fact that I am an American – one of the “pushers of the forward”. My sense? Paris is refined and lovely and just a little more held back, I think. London has a little more robust character and vigor. Paris – just a tad more restrained – at least I felt this, at this time of year. Perhaps the Parisians are better at waiting than us, non? Perhaps it is their nature to let life evolve at its own pace, something we aren’t very good at here.

Before I go on, let’s just get it over – the amount of smoking in Paris is alarming – almost more observed among women – and I find it utterly puzzling – either a gross dismissal of the affects of this, or some sort of under-reporting of health issues? I don’t know. Perhaps they just don’t care. I do have to say, that getting into a cab which is saturated with cigarette smoke is a very unpleasant experience, and I do appreciate the absence of this at home. Ok, done with that.

Well, where to begin. The senses are just overwhelmed with all there is to see and do in Paris. Considering I was not at my best the last time, I went basically with the mindset of a complete novice and decided it was best to apply this to all areas of their culture, history and environment. I had my intense interest level in tow and my love of all things food and pastry on high alert. And so, I touched down with the feeling that I was basically visiting from scratch, even though I’d been there before. This visit made me yearn to re-ingnite my French, little though I do recall, and become fluent. (let’s see, that’s Italian and French on the to-do list). In this vein, what I do love and appreciate about the Parisians and the French is the great inflection they use, and all the time, in their speech. It is musical to the ear and greatly pleasing, and somewhat an out-of-character enthusiasm from them. Their “bonjour”, bon soir, d’accords and all, provide a beautiful lilt to the sound of conversation that we just don’t have here. When someone says hello, goodbye, thank you or discusses something with you, we Americans have a decidedly more “flat” intonation to our speech – I find this sort of a disappointing and unfortunately, not surprising approach to the “take it for granted” perspective I find so curiously dominating here – unless, of course, when someone is angry. More about this later.

I found myself comparing Paris to New York a lot while I was over there, mostly because of the affect the architecture and the degree to which the city planning is so remarkably and overwhelmingly well done in Paris. I found myself feeling like, WOW, the French have done such a tremendous job at laying out their city and achieving such a feeling of grandeur that is notably absent in New York. I know that this is a relatively recent implementation, having occurred between 1853 and 1870 and long after the revolution – pretty recent for European standards. Well, be that as it may, it is just beautifully done, thanks to Baron Haussmann and company.

New York, though I love it dearly, with all its bravado and electricity does not present nearly as well, visually – at least up close. The skyline from afar is definitely amazing, on a clear day and at night, but up close and personal, not so much. Though, grand in spots, it is much more of a hodgepodge of buildings in different form, function and character. Some will feel I am being too critical, but sorry, this is how I feel. New York has about it such a “well, we are going forward with the new and present architectural design, and clearly with little regard of the overall effect on the skyscape and landscape” and lots of ego, type of feeling. Yes, of course, the French have the benefit of age and their classical roots, which, we do, and do not adhere to, but I doubt very seriously that they would ever tear down buildings and build new ones with such total disregard for the past as we have and do here. You would think that we would seriously want to protect the little bits of aged architecture, particularly where it is very good, that we do have here, but, lest we seem to charge forward and the urban planning model of the American city does not take into consideration the overall impact on the up close and personal eye – just my opinion. Well, let’s just say, that is another difference in our characters.

Paris seems to awaken much later in the am than we do – we Americans so definitely displaying the “up and at ’em” approach to life. Step outside before 9 am and the city seems to be mostly asleep. I felt this knowing though, that the bakers had already been hard at work, feeling somehow that strong undercurrent of love of the oven and delivery having already been executed. All around, the display cases were lovingly filled with their most beautiful of offerings – just amazing, inviting and alluring. The shops, overall, open at 10:30 and stay open to 7 or later. Morning just doesn’t seem to be their time of day. Parisians seem to more saunter through the day, as evidenced by the number of people having tea at 5:30 pm as they consider their dining hour as much later than ours, of course. While New Yorkers dine later too – well, all night as well, there is a difference here to observe – Parisians aren’t in a hurry to get going and their crescendo, if you will, is much later than ours, but the overall pace is slower and less frantic, definitely. New Yorkers are perpetually in a hurry – to get somewhere, to get something done, and seemingly just rushing through life. I’m not knocking New Yorkers – I love the pace and am energized by it every time I cross the river.

Well, let’s get onto the eating thing! Ok, so I have the French Women Don’t Get Fat books and I understand the philosophy and approach to food there, but let me just say this, if I lived in Paris, I’d definitely be fat, fatter and fattest – because, all I would do is eat (and walk, which might delay my ultimate demise somewhat – if I am lucky!). Seriously, is this some kind of cruel joke or something? I don’t believe Parisians to be a “purging” society, and so, I am indeed, totally perplexed at this. And, so, I just don’t understand how they do it. There is a remarkable number of tall thin men I observed, all over the city, very pleasing to see. They are perfectly dressed and wearing the most impeccably-tailored suits and beautiful shoes. I felt a little embarrassed about the proliferation of more “portly” men in our country vs the appearance of Parisian men. Wow, it is remarkably different. Either these people live at the gym (doubt it) and starve themselves (doubt it), or there is something fundamentally different about their metabolisms. I must find out this secret. Stress levels may definitely play a role here, and I have read much about the affliction of cortisol, the stress hormone, on one’s physique. So, if indeed this is a factor, then we have a lot of cortisol streaming through our bloodstreams, and they, little, or there is something else major going on here!

Let’s just say at the outset, that I did not make it to all the boulangeries, patisseries and food “places” which I intended and this left me very sad. I didn’t even get to Poilane, and wow, if I could have stayed, just a few more days (or weeks), it would have been great. But, when one is trying to accomplish a wide array of objectives, and over a holiday weekend when many of the shops and stores were closed for two consecutive days, well it is tough. Easter Monday is a “bank” holiday in France and so, on Monday we saw many shops were shuttered.

Let me just say what a joy it is for me to step inside the likes of Fouchon, Laduree, Foquet, Pierre Herme, Hediard, Julien, Dalloyau etc., etc., and I felt, deep inside my heart, that I could so easily be one of the staff inside any and all of them, starting the second I stepped inside. Give me an apron and I would easily walk away from my current existence, feeling that I am such a shop-keeper and kitchen-worker in my soul.

One of my absolute favorite things about Paris is the brilliant city layout, architecture and especially the windows. Yes, windows. And, if I ever get to live in a foreign city, the scale of the doors will be a major factor for me as well. That was one of the first things I noticed on my first visit to Rome in 2007. But, I digress, and more about doors later.

All around Paris you see the tremendous scale and proportion of the windows in the residences. This is one of the most attractive and alluring features of the city to me. I always feel you can evaluate the beauty of an apartment (and get an appreciation for priorities of a people) by its windows. This is surely true in Paris with the proliferation of the elegant, long and patrician windows. It makes me wonder about the eye and quality of the people who designed this city – and I cannot wait to study more about this! Surely the architects had abundant natural light in mind when they designed these buildings, not to mention the inclusion of as many of the beautiful views of the city as possible to be welcomed in. I loved surreptitiously observing the beauty, quality and color of the draperies hanging in these windows and imagine the elegance and charm within. This is the stuff of fairy-tale-like enchantment to me and I hope some day to live in such a place. I have to do a visual study in New York. I can not think of many buildings which have such scale and proportion of fenestration – except of course, in some townhouses – are there any in the large buildings of apartments???? I just can’t recall any. I’d just have to say that overall, there isn’t the same emphasis on beautiful fenestration anywhere else in the world.

Well, it has taken me all day today to upload and sort my pictures. In the interest of time and the length of this post due to the number of pictures, I’m going to sign off here. More thoughts to come – but herewith my photos of Paris – to savor and hold dear:

Friends I met:

The adorable, incredibly indulged and lucky, yet somewhat aloof, Far-oun, resident feline of Le Bristol:

and an adorable English bulldog with whom I acquainted myself and asked to photograph because both my kids are obsessed:

Flowers:

most probably the most beautiful flowers in a shop I have ever seen. The red roses were nearly 3′ tall! My favorites, though are the pink family. Can you believe these sweet peas?

Sweets worth getting fat, or dying for, whichever comes first, seriously:

From Fouquet, Vanilla Caramels:

From Julien on Rue du Faubourg Saint-Honore:

From Hediard:

At Fouchon:

Laduree, where we visited nearly every day as Ryan is a big fan of the macaroon. He also began getting his Pain au Chocolat here but then we migrated, happily to Dalloyau; not knocking Laduree at all – they had a long line every afternoon!