Hello to an Old Neighborhood

April 23-25

We arrived at Gare de Lyon around four and took a cab to our hotel, Les Trois Colleges, in the Latin Quarter.

We stayed here last time we were in Paris. The hotel’s OK, but the neighborhood is beautiful: a short walk to the Pantheon, the Luxembourg Gardens, the Church of St. Stephen, which is closely associated with St. Genevieve, the patron of Paris. It’s not far from Notre Dame, the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, etc.

I love this neighborhood. 

The last thing we had eaten was a late breakfast of pastry and yogurt some time before noon, so we were ready for dinner.

We walked the short block to Rue St. Michel and stood on the corner to take in the view. The Luxembourg Gardens are across the street and up to the left. Straight downhill would take us to Ile de la Cite and Notre Dame. 

We didn’t walk quite that far. We went to the Place de la Sorbonne, a square a short way down the street. That’s where we found Les Patios.

We started with a dozen snails. We followed that with a cut of steak for me and a pasta dish with squid for Joanna. When it came, she was looking for the squid but couldn’t find any.

She asked the waiter about it, who took it back to the kitchen. He explained that the squid dish is new to the menu, so the cook forgot and sent out Provencal sauce instead. 

We had a half liter of a red Bordeaux. It was all right, but not the mouth-filling flavor that I had expected.

Because of the mix-up with Joanna’s pasta, he brought us dessert on the house.

Monday had a slow start. We walked to a cafe for coffee and croissants (about half the price of the hotel restaurant).

We went back to the room, and were out again around one.

We went to the Pantheon. It’s an interesting place. Louis XV originally planned it as a new church dedicated to St. Genevieve. 

Then came the revolution and derailed that plan.

The walls are covered with murals about her life. You have “Here come the Huns” and another showing Genevieve calming the frightened citizens of Paris.

In the same space, marble groups celebrate various secular subjects. There is one for Rousseau, for instance, on which his profile appears as a cameo while three complete figures represent Philosophy sitting between Nature and Truth. To the left of them is Music and to the right, Glory.

Another marble monument celebrates generals of the French Revolution. 

There is a large group celebrating the nation. It’s full of Napoleonic soldiers, speechmakers in tight pants, and others I’m not quite sure who they are.

The Pantheon is the building where Foucault set up his pendulum in 1851. There is a replica under the central dome marking the hours and the rotation of the Earth.

The crypt holds the remains of French notables. One wing is devoted to Napoleon’s cronies. Another wing has a room with Victor Hugo and Emile Zola. Marie and Pierre Curie are down there too. 

Voltaire has his own crypt, directly across the passage from the one that holds Rousseau—the rationalist facing off with the romantic.

It was a damp day and Joanna began to feel the cold. 

We had packed for slightly warmer weather, so when the temperature falls below 60, we know it. 

We stopped at a cafe, La Creperie, for something to warm us up. 
We shared a quiche Lorraine and then a crepe, along with a glass of Chablis.

OK, time for a nap. 

Later we went out for a walk. I wanted to check on a restaurant, the Petit Pontoise, on Rue Pontoise, not far from Notre Dame. We had been there once before, a few years ago. It had been recommended to us then by my cousin Bill. 

Bill’s ability to find great food rivals Larry’s. What did Charlie once say about Larry? I’d follow him to a restaurant anywhere.

The menu looked good but it was too much food for dinner after the lunch we had. So we made a note of the location and moved on.

We got some good views of the cathedral, which is at the very end of the Ile de la Cite. It is even more interesting from the back than from the front because of the graceful flying buttresses and the view of the steeple. 

There are groups of bronze figures on the roof surrounding the steeple base, but they were too far away for us to identify them.

You can’t see them from the front or even directly from the side of the building.

The Left Bank near the Ile de la Cite has narrow, winding side streets full of cafes, bistros, and foreign fare, including Little Hong Kong, a couple of Thai themed restaurants, and a retro American diner.

We wanted something light, so we went to Mandarin, a Chinese 
restaurant next to the hotel. We shared a plate of duck in a brown sauce, sauteed vegetables, and fried rice. 

Mandarin also offered a selection called Bordeaux superieur at 9 euros for a half bottle. 

I asked Joanna, do you want dessert? No, she said, they’re all fried. 

We had an order of gyoza dumplings instead. They were fried too, but surprisingly light.

We stopped at Le Duc, a bar in sight of the hotel, for coffee Tuesday morning, but there was no light fare for breakfast, so we went back to La Creperie for more coffee and a crepe with chestnut sauce. Not the lightest thing in the world, but lighter than an omelette with fries and salad on the side.

When we were staying at the Chabrans’ house, Larry, Claude, and I had a discussion about laundry. We just send it out and pay by the kilo to have it done when we’re in Asia. Joanna and I were able to do that in Syracuse, too.

Claude said that, when you get to a place like Paris, though, it can be cheaper to buy a new shirt than to have one cleaned.

That might be a stretch if you’re talking about suits or dress shirts, but I found out that it’s certainly true of underwear.

We decided to go to a department store to get Joanna something warmer to wear. The desk gave us directions to get to Galeries Lafayette on Boulevard Haussmann on the right bank. Take the Number 21 or 27 bus, either one, to the stop called Auber, near the Opera.

It worked very well indeed. We even had the exact change between us for the fare. 

You get a different view of a city from a bus. You don’t get all the detail that you will pick up during a walk, but it beats a cab.

On a bus, you sit up high so you see more than you do from a taxi. You go slower, too, because the bus makes stops.

We got off at the right station. As we walked toward the department store, we passed a Uni-Qlo store. That was even better.

Joanna found a lightweight down jacket that gives her more insulation than her cotton sport coat or her unlined trench coat. I added to my stock of underwear.

Joanna put her new coat on in the store, so she was feeling much better when we came out than when we went in. We took a short stroll and stopped for a snack at a cafe on Boulevard Haussmann. 

It was a croque monsieur that came with a short order of fries and a small salad. Sharing that, and a glass of white Burgundy, was just the thing to set us right.

It’s seven in Paris, and we’ll be thinking about dinner soon.

Keep warm, everyone, and stay well.

Harry

April 24

Hello, Grasshopper, Joanna, and FOH (Friends of Harry),

As I write this waiting for my ride to the train station, I am stuffing my face with some of the regional delicacies we enjoyed so much during our incredible time here in belle Provence: tapenade, brandade à l'ai, dried sausage, some great bread from the local baker and, of course, la fraise de Carpentras, the beautiful local strawberries. The Vacqueyras vin blanc Harry was kind enough to purchase from Domaine La Garrigue is making it all taste even better.

It was indeed a great visit. 

Claude took us (Pierre and the lovely Marine, as well) out for a fabulous dinner last night (razor clams with asparagus and a soupçon of Chinese-style egg noodles, saddle of lamb, and a full compliment of excellent libations, starting with Champagne, to white and then red Vacqueyras, ending with a gorgeous Marc de Chateauneuf du Pape). He made it a point to ask me if you arrived safely in Paris. They were happy to see you again. Joanna, it seemed, proved especially helpful in both the house and vineyard. They were quite impressed with your spirit and industry. Harry? Well, maybe not so much. But they love you anyway. Claude especially admires your sense of fashion and how you wear a tie and jacket in the vineyards: the best-dressed man in Provence!

As Joanna and I discussed the other evening, having friends like Claude and Sophie is like winning the lottery. Not only are they exceedingly kind and hospitable, they have a fantastic home in one of the most beautiful places in the world. Money can't buy the experience of fellowship we have experienced here.

And, even better, they seem to embrace freeloaders like me. The house is huge, and Claude and Sophie prefer it to be full of noisy, thirsty, and hungry company.

I have indeed found paradise on earth, and it was nice to have Joanna and Harry join me for a taste of it.

If you are reading this, I hope you too can make a visit to this region.

And fear not, gracious readers: The travel gods have been most kind to Joanna and Harry. It was great to see them, and I expect their stay in Paris will also be great.

Salut and Bon Voyage,

Larry