Dreams of far-away places

Cholets and coral reefs -- what do they have to do with each other?  Nothing, as far as I can tell, except that I learned about both of them on this morning's Paris walk. 

View from the Passerelle Debilly (pedestrian bridge) near the Eiffel Tower this morning.

At the 9:15 opening time, I stepped into the garden of the Musée du Quai Branly, determined to explore more of its nooks and crannies since I had the place almost to myself.  The guard at the entrance on the Quai Branly side was welcoming and polite.  I handed him my open handbag for inspection, and I stepped through the metal detector. 

Walkway in the Branly garden.

And so I was then in a quiet, safe, lush green space that looks like a grand Japanese garden come to life.  I did walk through corners and areas I'd not seen before. I paused to rest and listen to the birds.

The museum building, near the Café Branly, has some large expanses of glass where the curators like to display information about some of the current exhibitions. 

I was curious about the explanation of the exhibit on Cholets, because Cholets are so colorful and whimsical.  Here's what English version on the display says:

The project Neo-Andina, by Tateqaki Nio, a Japanese photographer born in 1971 and living in Brazil, focuses on the recent development of a new form of architecture in Bolivia.  Since 2006 a new middle-class has emerged, particularly in the city of El Alto. 

The wealth of these booming nouveau Rich is reflected in the large constructions known as “cholets,” a term coined from the contraction of the words “cholo” (a person of Aymara descent) and “chalet.”  Most of the buildings are designed by architect Freddy Mamani, and the city now has some 170 cholets.  This architecture has taken the name Neo-Andean, so-called for its use of traditional Andean motifs seen in ceramics and traditional textiles.

Photos of cholets at the Musée du Quai Branly

Cholet is also a town in France, in the Maine-et-Loire department.  For the 2018 Tour de France, the town of Cholet was the site of the 3^rd stage, in early July:  the team time trials.  For the past couple days, the Tour has been in the Alps -- far from Cholet -- but in an area with many chalets.

Along the walk this morning, I saw several people who had been sleeping on the streets -- people who looked as though they are far from home -- people who are, most likely, refugees/immigrants.  Last year we didn't see them much in the city.  But now I think that was because we were walking in the afternoons and evenings then.

The refugees/immigrants are noticeable in the morning.  After the morning, I think they go someplace where they are being fed, and we don't see them later in the day.  Churches?  The soup kitchens?  I don't know.  I do notice that the refugees/immigrants generally do not beg.  Some are alone.  Some are in pairs.  Some are entire families.

Place de Fontenoy between UNESCO and
the Ècole Militaire

I decided to walk home along the Avenue de Lowendal, past the open side of the Ècole Militaire and UNESCO.

On the Place de Fontenoy, I was pleased to see that this former "no-man's-land" is now being somewhat cared for.  The trees have been trimmed and watered.  Litter is being picked up.  The park benches exist, and are fairly clean.  Attractive new light poles have been installed.  Like many French parks, the ground surface is light brown gritty sand.  The place has improved.  Thank you City of Paris or UNESCO or both.

The photographic exhibition on the extensive fence around UNESCO is about the Earth's coral reefs.  Being a coastal environmentalist, I was pleased to see this opportunity for people to learn about these extremely important ecosystems.  One of the photos was a great magnification of coral's cellular structure.  I had never seen this, and I did not realize how fractal it is.

Here's the blurb about this exhibit:

“Coral Reefs:  A Challenge for Humanity" Is the work of photographer Alexis Rosenfeld and journalist Alexe Valois.  It bears witness to the beauty of these jewels of biodiversity.  It presents scientific monitoring missions, and stresses the importance – for each and every one of us – of preserving coral reefs of all oceans.

This exhibition also announces the United Nations Decade of Ocean Science for Sustainable Development (2021 – 2030).  In the face of ocean degradation, it is becoming increasingly urgent to find scientific solutions allowing to understand the changes at work and end the decline of oceans.  Coral Reefs are an essential element of ocean life. 

Coral, up close, greatly magnified.

The photographic exhibition on coral at UNESCO.

An essential element of human life in Paris is eating.  We had some ambitions about trying the Italian place in the ground level of our building, since I now realize that it has been receiving many high ratings in lafourchette.com reviews.  Some people even claim that the pizza served there is the best they've ever had!  Finding excellent pizza in Paris is a challenge, and it shouldn't be.  Now, it may be literally right under our noses.

We went to the grocery first, and decided to start dinner with a salad, made by me, and then Tom would go downstairs to get pizza.  When we finished the salad, we were too full for pizza.  Some other time . . . .

The salad?  It was baby spinach and lamb's lettuce, with cherry tomatoes grown on our balcony, a crumbling of some seriously great Roquefort cheese, a drizzle of honey, a drizzle of wine vinegar, two drizzles of olive oil, freshly ground sea salt and pepper, and a few strawberries.  Toss and serve.

Voila!  Enjoy some more photographs from this morning's walk.

The garden at the Musée du Quai Branly, above and below.

The Place de Fontenoy

A typical scene on the Avenue de la Bourdonnais, with souvenir shops and cafés.

The Seine, from the Passerelle Debilly. 
Our favorite houseboat, the Julia, on the left.  We like it because a beautiful longhaired cat once lived there.

Tourist boats on the Seine.

The green wall on the Quai Branly side of the museum is still undergoing restoration.

A beautiful mimosa tree near the Champ de Mars, on the Avenue Emile Deschanel.

What a morning sky over the Champ de Mars!

News kiosque under the elevated tracks at Grenelle.

The Passerelle Debilly.

Inexplicable sign on the Passerelle Debilly.

Somebody's strange artwork pasted on the Passerelle Debilly.

Victory followed by a peaceful morning

July 11, 2018 -- The street market under the elevated tracks on the Boulevard de Grenelle was strangely uncrowded at 8:45AM.  Several of the vendor stalls were empty or still being set up.  The flow of shoppers was thin.  Why, I wondered?  This isn't August yet.  Of course, this is a holiday week -- Bastille Day is Saturday.  Then I suddenly remembered -- last night, France beat Belgium in the World Cup.  People celebrated long and hard last night, and were a bit late starting up at the market today.

A Japanese-garden-style walkway in the garden at the
Musée du Quai Branly.

We had the front and back windows open last night, as the three of us sat around talking after a casual dinner at home.  We could hear crowds of people sporadically cheering in cafés all around.  Tom pulled out his laptop and followed the blow-by-blow coverage of the game.  After each cheer, he told Dan and me what had just happened.

Then there was an explosive cheer and we learned that France won.  Now they'll face off with either England or Croatia on Sunday in Moscow.

France won the World Cup (in Paris!) in 1998, the first summer we spent here.  It was a memorable time.

We are not sports fans, but we do follow the Tour de France on TV.  I think the real reason that I watch the Tour is to see the scenery, particularly the helicopter videos of charming villages, chateaux, churches, mountains, rivers, lakes and forests.  This year's race started with views of the Atlantic coastline.  That was cool.

As I started my walk today, I noticed yet another competitor to Velib, in addition to Gobee.bike and Mobike (see yesterday's blog entry):  Donkey Republic.

I noted that Donkey Republic's slogan is in English:  Increase your bikeprint in the world.  English is everywhere.

Donkey Republic is one of several bike sharing services in Paris.

We recently met neighbors who are renting an apartment on the third floor.  They are Vickie and Raymond, from Shanghai.  They speak little French.  They rely on their English while they're living here in Paris.  We hear English spoken more and more, even here in this less touristy part of central Paris.

But to hear it spoken in our building by people other than us is unusual.

I saw many signs in English as I walked this morning.  I think it is official now:  English is a second language in Paris.

After walking the length of the Grenelle market, I turned toward the Champ de Mars.  Then I crossed it and headed for my favorite garden, at the Musée du Quai Branly.

Few people were in the garden, so it was a beautiful time to take photographs.  Enjoy!

Tables with umbrellas in a secluded spot.

Rebar fashioned into a trellis.  Seats are chunks of granite, smooth and polished on top.

This structure has a vegetated roof.

The museum currently has an exhibit of the works of James Barnor, a photographer from Ghana
who also lived in London.

Celebrating a birthday in Paris

June 25, 2017 --  The weather was gorgeous:  blue sky, puffy little white clouds, cool enough to wear real shoes and socks, and warm enough to wear a T-shirt and no jacket.  Our goal was to walk along the Seine, perhaps all the way to the Jardin des Plantes.

Getting started was a challenge, because we were distracted by the abundant shopping opportunities.  Tom needs things:  shoes, a blazer, etc.  The aptly named Rue du Commerce has things -- not touristy things, but real things, that people really need.

Clothing and wares were being displayed out on the sidewalk in front of many shops.  We were witnessing the weekend of a Rue du Commerce street fair -- something that we remember attending years ago.  We usually are not in Paris until July.  This year is different from most; we're experiencing June.

Street fair at one end of the Rue du Commerce.

Yesterday was Tom's 75th birthday.  So we shopped for him.  First we looked at an entire rack of men's walking shoes out on the sidewalk.  He seriously considered one pair, but decided to wait.  "Maybe I'll try gluing my old shoes together one more time," he said.  I replied, "Well, maybe you could take them to the shoe repair place on our street."

We are guilty of being frugal, but we also know how to stimulate the economy in our own meager way.  We moved on to the Celio shop, a place where we'd purchased a rain jacket for Tom in the past.

Celio's prices are good, and so there were a number of people shopping there.  I'm always wary of empty shops, or shops where there are no French people spending money.  We knew right where the blazers were.  Within a few minutes of perusing them, a salesman cheerily swept by to welcome us and point out where the mirrors were as Tom was about to try on the first blazer.

Weirdly, these blazers were marked S, M, L, and XL for the sizes.  Clearly they were made for an English speaking market.  But that market must have been for very small English speakers.  I'm not sure where in the world that would be.  Tom, after his illnesses a year and a half to two years ago, is not large.  He is quite medium -- a 40 regular kind of guy.  Knowing these blazers would probably run small, he tried a Large.  Nope.  Large was too small.  There was only one XL in black.  He tried it, and it fit beautifully, but the sleeves were a little too long. Tom has unusually long arms, so he didn't expect this anomaly.

The price was amazing:  30 percent off of 49.99!  Tom was going to buy it and just make do with the slightly long sleeves.  I encouraged him to buy it, and then go to the tailor across from our building to have the sleeves shortened.  Tom didn't want to spend the money.  I said, "Even if it costs 35 euros to alter the blazer, it is still worth it, and you'll feel better wearing it if the sleeves are the right length."

When I convinced him that it couldn't hurt to ask, we backtracked around the corner, onto the Rue du Theatre, and entered the tailor's shop.

This was a Saturday, but yes, the shop was open.  The tailor and his friend were sitting around with not much to do.  We'd shopped there before; I bought a suede jacket there once, and had the sleeves shortened by the tailor.  Leather seems to be a specialty at this plain little shop/workshop.

Quickly and professionally, the tailor pinned up one of the jacket sleeves to mark the proper length.  Tom asked "how much?" in French.  Twenty-five euros was the answer!  And the finished blazer will be ready on Monday afternoon.  I love customized, quick service!

View of the Eiffel Tower and garden at the Musee du Quai Branly.

Off we went again, making our way successfully this time, to the end of the Rue du Commerce and up to the Avenue de la Bourdonnais, where I checked out a little shoe store that advertises on Google that it carries Skechers.  Alas, the little shop did not have my size.  We walked on to the garden at the Musee du Quai Branly.

The garden is more lush and green than ever.  The foliage and exotic grasses are wildly growing together.  The place reminds us of South Florida, but better.

We were both hungry, so we stepped into the cafe facing the garden.  Tom consumed a dish of rich ice cream, which almost had to be Berthillon.  I ate a salad with wonderful goat cheese.  Fortified, we left the garden, crossed the quai, and walked down to the banks of the Seine.

The throngs of pedestrians there grew thicker and thicker as we walked.  We saw that this was the second of two "Olympic Days" for which a large assortment of games were set up for all, young and old, to play.  Ping pong was a popular one.

When we reached the far side of the Pont Alexandre III, we looked up and saw two colorful diving platforms set up on the bridge.  At twenty minutes before 3PM, people were starting to gather, looking up at the platforms.   We decided to join them to watch the divers.  After we'd waiting several minutes, a large screen behind us illuminated with a video explanation of the event about to take place.  The divers would not be diving, but rather working their way down long pieces of fabric, doing acrobatics along the way.

Acrobatic "diver" leaving one of the platforms on the Pont Alexandre III.

Finally, at 3PM, a diver appeared.  She was an athletic-looking young woman in a red one-piece swimsuit.  She performed her act to the amplified sound of Vivaldi's Four Seasons.  Slowly, she lowered herself along the lengths of fabric, wrapping them this way and that, around her body, as she pivoted, twirled, did somersaults, etc.  I can't say that the "choreography" had anything to do with the Four Seasons, but it was interesting -- much like what circus acrobats have been doing for many years.

As we stood there, I became slightly uncomfortable as people standing near me pressed into my space.  When the first act was almost over, I turned to Tom, who was standing behind me.  Then I saw that the crowd behind us had grown tremendously.  There were no spaces between people.  The entire space was full of humans who had no room to move.

After the lady in the red suit finished and the Four Seasons had concluded, Tom and I decided to try to make our way out of the crowd.  Fortunately, some other people decided to try to leave, too.  At first, nobody could move.  That was truly frightening.  Everyone stayed calm, however, and eventually, there was a little movement this way, and a little movement that way.  It took twenty minutes or more, but finally, Tom and I were moving.  We almost got separated at one point, but soon all was well again, and we continued our walk on toward Notre Dame.

As a general rule, we avoid crowds.  The Olympic Days crowd was one nobody would have predicted.

The Seine, looking toward the Ile de la Cite.

We'd been on our feet for hours, so we rested a few times on old limestone benches.  At last, we were across from Notre Dame on the left bank, gazing up as we walked at the cathedral's lacy grandeur.

Across from the far end of the church, we climbed the steps to the street level, crossed the quai, and started walking down the rue Maitre Albert when we saw the perfect sidewalk cafe for pausing for beverages on the rue des Grands Degres.  So, pause we did, for a bottle of sparkling water to share, coffee for Tom and a glass of chardonnay for me.  The large, garrulous man sitting at the table next to us was evidently the owner of the place.  He was consuming mussels from a big red pot which was accompanied by a small mountain of fries.  The man periodically dumped fries into the pot.

We finished our beverages, paid the tab, left a pour boire (a couple euros), said good-day  to the garrulous man, and went on our way down the Rue Maitre Albert to the line 10 metro at Place Maubert Mutualite.

Quaint old storefront on the Rue des Grands Degres.

Soon we were back at the apartment, where we rested up for the next adventure:  Tom's birthday dinner at La Gauloise.

While we were resting, we heard drums.  Something musical was happening at the street fair, six stories below.  The sound of the drums grew louder.  Then there was music with the drums.  We walked out on our balcony and looked down.  Soon, a colorful group of Brazilian musicians and dancers appeared at the intersection, where they paused and the dancers showed off their flamboyant garb and exotic moves.

I told Tom I'd ordered the girl dancers and the drum line for this birthday.  I wish I had thought of it.

Brazilian dancers and musicians on the Rue due Commerce and Rue du Theatre.

Dinner was at La Gauloise -- one of our longtime, favorite, traditional Parisian restaurants.  The classic interior of the restaurant was half full of families having dinner together.  They were all French.  Just like when we had lunch at the Trois Garcons brasserie the day before, we did not hear any English being spoken in the restaurant.

Dinner was simple and elegant.  We skipped the starters and Tom ordered a thick, juicy filet of beef in a nice black pepper sauce, accompanied by a small salad.  My main course was a filet of dorade royale (golden sea bream) accompanied by Spring vegetables.  We each had an outstanding souffle Grand Marnier.

I mentioned the lunch we had on the 23rd at the Trois Garcons brasserie on the rue de la Croix Nivert.  My dish was fish and veggies there, too:  a slightly seared piece of red tuna with marinated, thin, crispy slices of beets, fancy radishes, and a few cucumbers.  The dish was colorful and delicious.  Tom had a slate of mixed charcuterie -- so copious that he sneaked some of it away into folded paper napkin, then into a shopping bag to take home.

Wallace Fountain near the Trois Garcons brasserie.

That outing on the 23rd was our first daytime adventure for this summer, even though we arrived in Paris on the 21st.  The first two days were consumed by an oppressive heat wave and episode of pollution (bad ozone).  We just hibernated, unpacked, and recovered from jet lag during those two days.  Oh, we did manage to go out for supplies at the grocery, fromagerie, and bakery, but we know better than to try to go traipsing about normally during a heat wave in Paris.

And we had a nice dinner at La Terrasse as the weather was breaking on the evening of the 22nd.  I had a perfectly juicy and tender duck breast with vegetables and Tom consumed a beef carpaccio with salad.  Service was so professional and the ambiance was so Parisian.  It was a good way to start.

Amazingly, the weather became suddenly much better on Friday, without any noticeable storm front.  And so it goes -- all seems to be well in Paris now.

To Saint Sulpice and back again

August 10, 2016 -- One of the places that makes Paris home-away-from-home for me is located not so close to this apartment in the 15th arrondissement, where we stay.  Instead, it is way over in the heart of the 6th arrondissement:  the grand church of Saint Sulpice.

I'm not sure why I feel so at home in that particular church.  It is more somber than many of the other Catholic churches in this city; perhaps, as a Protestant, that somber quality appeals to me. 

Lion in the Place Saint Sulpice

Saint Sulpice is a great, hulking church.  Its length is only 20 meters shorter than that of Notre Dame, over on the Ile de la Cité.  But it is heavier in its decoration – or, rather, lack thereof, than Notre Dame.

Tom decided that he wanted us to walk over to the 6^th arrondissement yesterday.  I said, “Great, you lead the way.”  He likes to walk a route that is not the most direct, but does go around UNESCO. 

The walk was almost the same as always.  One change:  the guard stationed outside the park called the Jardin Catherine Labouré is now carrying an automatic rifle.  Farther down the rue de Sevres, we saw three tall soldiers come around a corner, each carrying a large automatic rifle and wearing combat fatigues.

Thinking of my sister as I photographed Saint Sulpice.
She likes this church, too.

Tom wanted to visit the square in front of Saint Sulpice.  We did that, and then I wanted to go in the church.  Inside, we examined the displays set up for the Jubilee of the Misericorde:  fairly philosophical, theological stuff, and all in French – but interesting.

Tom wanted to see the Delacroix paintings at the church, but they are walled off for a restoration project.  That’s good; those paintings needed some serious restoration.  I noticed that the expository sign for the Delacroix restoration area promoted the idea of making private donations toward the project.  Since we’ve enjoyed those paintings so much for so many years, I photographed the web site name on the sign, and this morning we made a donation – something I’ve never done in French before. (Sometimes I use the camera to "take notes.")

The brasserie called Le Pre aux Clercs beckoned to us, so we had refreshments there.  

Then we walked along the rue Jacob after our visit to the church.  Tom just loves that street.  I do, too, but I wish the sidewalks were wider.  There is so much to stop and look at in the shop windows, but little space for pedestrians to maneuver around the window shoppers.

Tom pauses on a bench as we walk over to the 6th arrondissement.
The bench he sits on is labeled "le banc de Marcel."
The other bench is labeled "l'autre banc de Marcel."  Very funny.

Up toward the Seine we went, through the little archway at the Institute de France, and voila!  There was the lovely river with a view of the Louvre and the Institute.  At the rue Guénégaud we turned back toward the heart of the 6^th.  In this area are many art galleries.  At this time of year, gallery owners tend to feature their African art.  So on a day like this, a number of men from Africa roam the streets of the 6^th, scoping out pedestrians who look like they might be African art collectors.  Obviously, these men have something to sell.

Tom was looking prosperous in his navy blue blazer, and so many of these men stopped him to ask if he was interested in African art.  He smiled and said, “Merci, non” to each of them.

I wouldn’t say we aren’t interested, but we just aren’t interested in acquiring stuff now.

The views inside Le Pre aux Clercs are confusing because of all the mirrors.
So you can see me taking the photo.  (Merry wanted pictures with Tom
and me in them, but I don't know why.)

We crossed the grand boulevard Saint Germain and found the Mabillon entrance to the line 10 Metro.  The time was 4:30PM – prime rush hour.  We’ve been on that train before at rush hour, and it has always been fairly full then.  But not yesterday.  The cars had plenty of empty seats.  It looked more like a Sunday morning, rather than a weekday rush hour.

After buying ten metro tickets (14.70 euros) as we exited the Émile Zola station, I decided to stop in my favorite Nicolas wine shop for the first time this summer.  As I entered, I immediately noticed that the shop had been renovated and had a new layout.  Nevertheless, I found three of my favorites within a minute.  The new shopkeeper, a young man, was as nice as could be.

In the evening, we strolled down the Avenue Émile Zola again, this time to dine at L’Épopée.  There we were given a mis-en-bouche of bright pink beet soup.  Then we shared a starter course of shrimp in thin pastry tubes, served with a delicate little salad and homemade rouille sauce.  Both of us ordered the barbequed pork ribs, which were fine.  They came with a mixture of vegetables that was excellent.

Cold beet soup mis en bouche.

I often think of our former cat, General Burnside, at dinnertime.  He had the most polite way of begging at the table.  He’d stand up on his back legs, prop himself against your dining chair with one of this front legs, and with the soft paw on his other front leg, he’d gently tap you on your leg, and he’d emit a soft little meow, as if to say, “um, excuse me, I am a cat here, I need some of your food please, just a little please, if you could be so kind.”

Years ago, we used to see feral cats darting about here or there as we wandered home after dinner in Paris.  However, through a campaign of sterilization, I think, the city of Paris has managed to just about eliminate feral cats from the cityscape.

But the other day, we saw one dart right in front of us, and disappear into the lush vegetation of the garden at the Musée du Quai Branly – Jacques Chirac.  Upon reflection, I think that this is a most appropriate place for a wild cat – a lion in the jungle, a panther in the swamp – a cat that magically appears, and disappears, in the mist.

And they all went shopping

August 7, 2016 - The sky was blue, with scads of puffy white clouds, and the temperatures were in the mid-70s F so we just had to walk along the Seine.  On the way, we included a stopover in the garden of the Musée du Quai Branly, as we almost always do.  Just like last summer, a security guard was stationed at the entrance to the garden, checking bags.  I had my small black camera bag ready and open for him as I said, “Bonjour!”  He returned the greeting, and after a peek inside the bag, he thanked us and motioned us in to the lush green territory around and under this fascinating museum.

I note that the French culture czars now include former President Chirac’s name in the name of the museum.  So this year the place is called the “Musée du Quai Branly - Jacques Chirac.”

Walking along the banks of the Seine, under a bridge.

Chirac is given credit for founding this museum.  It is difficult to find a politically correct way of describing what this museum showcases.  The reality is that it features mostly art from cultures that were dominated and pilfered by France’s former acts of imperialism and colonialism.  The more politically correct description that the English-language version of the web site now incorporates is “The musée du quai Branly - Jacques Chirac is the heir to 200 years of history, enrichment, study and conservation of public collections. It conserves almost 370,000 works originating in Africa, the Near East, Asia, Oceania and the Americas which illustrate the richness and cultural diversity of the non-European civilisations from the Neolithic period (+/-10,000 B.C.) to the 20th century.”

Hmmmm.  A committee worked very hard on that verbiage, to be sure.

La Boudeuse

The garden looks better than ever due to the high rainfalls earlier in the summer and late spring.  We took a break on a bench and used the smart phone to look up information on Lucien and Sacha Guitry, a father-son duo famous for their acting, plays, and writing.  We often pass a building where they lived when we walk along the residential street just to the northeast of the Champ de Mars.

When we reached the banks of the Seine, we were surprised that there were not more people walking there.  After all, it was a gorgeous Saturday in the summer.  In recent years, the crowd of walkers would be so thick on days like this that it was nearly impossible to ride a bicycle through there.

We think the drop in the number of flaneurs along the Seine is due to fear of attacks.  If that’s true, it is sad.

Still, we were thrilled to be there, soaking in the scenery.  The beautiful three-mast ship called La Boudeuse was on display, in all its glory.  Last summer, we saw it as it was being spiffed up for its new mooring on the Seine.  This summer, it floats there by the bank, looking gorgeous.  It was originally built in 1916 in the Netherlands.  It had an environmental education role here on the Seine until early 2016.  I’m not sure where it is headed next.  On va voir.

Next we inspected (only by peering through the windows) the flood damage caused to the Faust restaurant located under the left bank end of the Pont Alexandre III.  The clean-up project continues.  The restaurant won’t reopen for some time, it seems.

So we continued on to the café boat called the Rosa Bonheur – our current favorite place to have refreshments on the Seine.  Tom loves the ice cream served there.  The Rosa is a cheerful and very casual place, harkening back to the era when there were guinguettes along the river.

View from our table on the Rosa Bonheur.

From our high-top table with a great view in the bow, we sat, relaxed, and discussed the various pieces of debris that floated past.  There is far more debris than usual, and my guess is that this is also due to the flooding months ago – much debris was probably shoved up into storm sewers, and is still breaking loose.  There was a vehicle wheel, with tire inflated so it floated nicely.  There was a large dead bird – some kind of raptor.  Bottles of many types and sizes bobbed along.  So did someone’s nice black nylon gym bag.  The variety made for fun conversation.  I guess we’re easy to entertain.

Inside the Rosa Bonheur.

We decided to walk back through the 7^th arrondissement, skirting around the National Assembly (legislature) building and down through the stately Place du Palais Bourbon and a bit farther until we reached the rue Saint Dominique – the best shopping street in the 7^th.

When we finally reached our shopping street in the 15^th, the rue du Commerce, we were amazed at the throngs of people.  There seemed to be more people here, by far, strolling along this almost-narrow street, than there were walking along the broad banks of the Seine.

Real shoppers never quit.  Good for them.

After resting for a little while in the apartment, we dressed for dinner at Le Pario, chef Eduardo Jacinto’s restaurant near the end of the Avenue Emile Zola – in the very spot where we used to dine at Oh! Duo.  (The name, "Le Pario," results from combining Paris and Rio.  The chef is originally from Brazil.)

Tom's veal chop at Le Pario.

The Avenue is looking good, as the honey locust trees have grown and matured.  We remember them when they were just skinny little tykes, planted after a major windstorm had damaged trees throughout the city (1999 and/or 2004).

We were shocked, along the way, to discover that the great hardware store, Zola Color, is now gone!  Some big tech thing called Boulanger is moving into that space on the Place Charles Michels.

Dinner was fabulous – I had a crab salad for a starter, followed by a shrimp dish that included sweet potato gnocchi.  Tom had a thick, pistachio-encusted veal chop accompanied by a dish full of tiny round potatoes, followed by profiteroles drowned in sinfully rich dark chocolate sauce.  Service was well-intended, but slightly off.

We’ll be back to Le Pario – I think it is one of the few of our favorite restaurants that actually stay open through the entire month of August.