Our Paris Adventure: Day Four

 

One of the many wonderful things about Paris is that it's still very much a place driven by market culture, in spite of the ever-growing presence of supermarket chains. This means that most neighbourhoods hold market days, usually including a day during the work week and another day on the weekend, when a fruit-, vegetable-, and prepared-foods-market sets up in a street or square, and the locals come out with woven shopping baskets and wheeled bags in tow to fill up with goodies. While my favourite Paris market is the Bastille Market, which I've visited on each of our previous trips, in keeping with our efforts to experience some new parts of Paris on this trip, we didn't stroll through the Bastille Market this time, and had a peek at a few other markets instead. As we neared the Saxe-Breteuil market, we didn't have to wonder where it was--we just followed all the people pulling empty shopping trolleys behind them! The market is often called one of the most scenic in Paris because of the close proximity of the Eiffel Tower,

although the greenery ensured that the tower just peeked out over the market. After we were done browsing at the market (sample comment from Bob: "I wish I wasn't totally full from breakfast!"), we decided to complement yesterday's wandering through eastern Paris with a jaunt through some neighbourhoods in western Paris. We hadn't gone far from the metro station when I spotted a window decal from across the street that I definitely needed to investigate.

Another great thing about Paris is that every spring since 1993 has brought the Au Concours de la Meilleure Baguette de la Ville de Paris ("contest for the best baguette in the city of Paris"). This is no easy contest to win; each baker submits two tradi baguettes for tasting, and this year 143 bakeries took part, with 14 entries eliminated before tasting for not adhering to length (70 cm) and weight (250-300 g) standards. A tradi baguette is "made with pure, additive-free wheat flour, water and salt. . . . it has been kneaded, shaped and baked on the premises by the baker in his [or her!] bakehouse and has not been frozen." Such a baguette is less common that you may think by walking the boulangerie-laden streets of Paris, as only bakeries marked as "artisan" are obliged to make all their goods fresh, from scratch, on the premises. Happening across the boulangerie that bakes the third-best baguette in the city was therefore a wonderful bit of luck. Regardless of our plentiful breakfast, I had to go in and buy a baguette. Bob and I nibbled it as we walked, and even Bob (who usually claims to have no real preferences when it comes to bread) commented on how tasty the baguette was, with a crust that was unlike most we've eaten in Paris. Here's how the professionals put it: ". . . this young craftsman [Morgan Gantier] immediately won over his district and its reputedly difficult customers [. . .] finish[ing] in third place at the Grand Prix de la Baguette this year, offering a tasty tradi made with flour from Les Moulins Bourgeois. Slow fermentation, gentle kneading, 20 minutes in the oven [. . .] This baguette, sometimes a little crooked, offers a fine crumb full of freshness with aromas of hay and cream . . ." We passed a few neighbourhood bakeries with queues out the door this morning, but kept to our baguette and resisted the various tempting windows that lined our walk. The name of this tiny treat was definitely worth a photo, though:

The neighbourhoods of Auteuil and Passy are lovely places to walk, filled with impressive buildings (often commissioned by their wealthy residents). We started off by passing two Hector Guimard buildings, one large and reserved,

the other small and playful.

Neighbourhood details abounded, like the decoration around this address,

these timbers,

and a buzzing neighbourhood market,

crowned with a Wallace fountain at its centre.

As I took a photo of this next Guimard building, a woman looked at me quite strangely (as if she thought that there wasn't anything worth photographing here) before carrying her shopping into the door on the left.

We passed another grand Guimard

before arriving at his most famous building, Castel Béranger, completed in 1898. Nicknamed Castel Dérangé (as in "mentally deranged") by its detractors at the time, the building incorporates many different styles into its exterior, and each of its 36 apartments is unique. Considered Paris's first Art Nouveau building, Castel Béranger granted young Guimard lasting fame, and led to the city of Paris commissioning him to create the now-iconic metro entrances.

Yup, that's a seahorse you're seeing!
The entrance gate and inner doors are especially attractive:

As we continued walking, I have to credit Bob with spotting what we called the barfing building:

Rue Mallat-Stevens is named after the architect who built it in the 1920s, Robert Mallet-Stevens. Five Mallat-Stevens houses remain on what is called Paris's only Art-Deco street.

Nearby sit Le Corbusier's first private commissions, a pair of semi-detached houses that now comprise the Fondation Le Corbusier. One building is closed to visitors (housing administrative offices), but the other house, Maison La Roche, is open to the public for the very reasonable admission fee of €3. Designed to "honour" the owner's art collection, the home makes effective use of light, space, and colour in each of its rooms and passages.

This bird added a rather frantic soundtrack to our walk away from the house:

We continued through Passy, gazing at interesting details on its grand buildings.

The rose petals scattered outside this flower shop got caught up in the stride of people walking past, resulting in a slowly fading carpet of petals all the way down the street--not bad, as far as litter goes!

Rue de l'Annonciation is a wonderful pedestrian street, filled with shops and market delights.

This deli thoughtfully provides a spot for "parking our puppy friends."

After popping into a few shops, we walked over to a spot that we've passed on previous occasions, but not explored until today: Balzac's home from 1840-47, now a free museum filled with artifacts from his life, including scribbly proofs,

handmade molds for drawings that appeared in his books,

and his monogrammed cafetière.

The significance of this last object became obvious when we learned that Balzac often wrote for sixteen hours at a time, with a cup of coffee always close at hand. The house itself is rather modest in size, but not in location, with a peaceful garden and a fantastic view of the Eiffel Tower (with the latter non-existent in Balzac's time, of course).

After we toured the house, we made use of the garden, enjoying our favourite Passy takeaway lunchtime formules of a canned drink, baguette, and dessert of our choice. I think I've said it before on these pages, but considering that Passy is one of the most expensive residential neighbourhoods in Paris, this delicious lunch is a real steal at €5, and with so many choices that Bob had a difficult time deciding which dessert to get. Here's my lunch of orange pop, ham and cheese baguette, and chocolate and pear flan--mmm!

After lunch, we crossed back over the Seine to wander some more in St Germain and the Latin Quarter. Barthélémy is said to be one of the best cheese shops in Paris (and that's saying a lot):

Located just off busy Boulevard Saint Germain, Square de Luynes is an oasis of residential calm.

A crowd of people poured out of this church as they waited for the bride and groom to emerge,

and we joined the many passers-by in watching the crowd for a while before moving along.

We turned down a random street and were surprised to come across this wall of graffiti:

It was only when we got closer that we realised where we were. The gated wall of the former home of French singer Serge Gainsbourg is covered with graffiti left by his adoring fans.

Now owned by his daughter Charlotte, the wall is apparently repainted white every once in a while, but the fans always come back.

Paris: it's a city where you can see the word metaphores on a sign!

Rue de Buci is a pedestrian street that we visited for the first time today,

but after taking in the various sights, sounds, and smells of the lively market street

and stopping for a relaxing coffee break with plenty of people watching,

it's definitely on our list for a return visit. We were doubly happy to visit our favourite chocolate shop on nearby Rue de Seine, knowing that it was what led us to stumble upon yet another wonderful Paris market street.

This unusual garden features ruins of a 13th-century chapel

as well as a statue of Guillaume Apollinaire (who coined the term Surrealism) by his friend Pablo Picasso.

The church next to the garden is the namesake of the neighbourhood, St Germain des Prés.

The interior (with some parts dating back to the 10th century) was spectacular.

I don't know why several women rubbed one of this statue's feet (and we saw the same phenomenon in at least one other church on this trip), but judging from the feet's difference in sheen, this is a rather common occurrence!

Saint Germain (496-576) was once the bishop of Paris; Pope Alexander III rededicated the present church to him in 1163.

After we left the church, we started walking south, once again heading down streets that looked new to us.

After a quick look inside Saint Sulpice church, the second largest in Paris after Notre Dame,

we kept walking toward one of our favourite places in the city--Jardin du Luxembourg. The largest greenspace in Paris at 23 hectares, and one of the most beloved, Luxembourg garden is a true gem of a place, offering a miniature-boating pond, fountains, statues, landscaped gardens, a former palace (now the home of the French Senate), large greenhouse, fruit orchard, apiary, traditional marionette shows, tennis courts, boules courts, café, and, most impressively, a variety of shifting atmospheres throughout the park, making it the perfect place for a stroll, sit, or picnic, whatever your current mood.

Some 64 statues dot the park, in a variety of styles. Today we walked past poets Paul Verlaine

and Gabriel Vicaire,

our second Liberté of this trip (actually the original statue, which served as the model for New York City's Liberty),

La Joie de la Famille ("The Joy of Family"),

philosopher and poet Charles Baudelaire,

and novelist Ferdinand Fabre (I must admit that this last statue caught my attention, not for the man in question, but because the goat appears to be biting the woman's arm).

Within a few days, I imagine that this lone tulip will be joined by many others:

Two people relaxed in the distance, in front of Lion et Autruche ("Lion and Ostrich"):

The most magical part of Jardin du Luxembourg is the seating--the pleasant green metal chairs are free to use (unlike the canvas chairs in some London parks, which you have to rent) and park-goers position them around the park as they like.

The lower, slightly inclined versions are particularly comfortable and difficult to inspire yourself out of!

That's Harde de Cerfs--"herd of deer"--in the background, and this was the view above me, which I enjoyed as I got far too comfy in my chair:

When we left the gardens, we came across a fantastic photography exhibit, Thirty Years of Emotions, showcasing eighty striking photos from Le Figaro magazine, including this 2007 photo of the Eiffel Tower:

We took in all the photos and captions as we very slowly made our way up the street.

As the sun started to set, we wandered back toward Montparnasse.

More of the figures we saw yesterday in Belleville and Ménilmontant cleverly adorned the entrance of this hotel. I later found out that the hotel's common areas and twenty rooms feature the work of painter Jérôme Mesnager and sculptor Sophie de Watrigant. Too bad the hotel is WAY out of our price range!

Tonight's dinner destination was just one of the many Breton-style crêperies that can be found in Montparnasse. After a very short wait,

we went inside for a dose of crêpe heaven!

Bob joined the majority of the restaurant in having Breton cider with his crêpe, and we devoured our delicious "double" crêpes with shocking speed. You can't really tell from the photo (which, in hindsight, I should have taken after we had started eating), but I ordered my favourite crêpe, a complète: ham, egg, and cheese made with buckwheat flour. It's oh so simple, but when done well, it's fantastically satisfying.

With the smells of dessert crêpes all around us, we decided we had to share a sweet second course. When I ordered our house-made salted-caramel crêpe, our server told us we had made an excellent choice. We soon found out how right she was, and we sopped up every last bit of melted caramel goodness on our plate. More, please!

today was 12.4.08