Bicyclists and Christmas - Monday, 20 September

In the Marais, where I’m staying, almost all of the small shops and cafés are closed on Mondays.  They are typically closed on Saturday for the Sabbath, and then mostly open on Sunday with lots of business and browsing (since small shops are pretty much closed elsewhere in town), and then closed again on Monday to rest up!  One exception today: the Christmas Store just a block from the apartment!  OK, it’s not exclusively Christmas stuff - also lots of games, action figures, fantasy hero attire, etc.  But still….

And then something I haven’t seen before!  A bicyclist (a guy probably in his 60s, fairly well-dressed) with a sound system in a specially-outfitted basket of his personal bike pedaled past me on rue de Rivoli.  It wasn’t just a boom box.  Nope.  It was a large decent speaker enclosed in a wooden case.  Not sure if it was connected via Bluetooth to a mobile device music player or if he went old school with a small CD player, but it was cool.  I couldn’t identify the music - it was a soft jazz style, loud enough to be heard by the rest of us, but not blaring.  Sorry that I wasn’t fast enough to snap a photo!  I did appreciate his contribution to the street scene and the aural environment!  

Speaking of bicyclists, there sure are a lot of them around, more than I remember from prior trips.  I remember a taxi driver telling me a few years ago, as we drove past an accident involving a bicyclist and a delivery van, that these accidents between bicyclists (who don’t always obey the rules of the road) and other vehicles were fairly prevalent. I’m not thrilled that a bunch of the main arteries in town have been narrowed to allow for dedicated bicycle lanes, but hopefully the accident rates have fallen.  I can tell you that those lanes are sure being used!

Intimidating? Incapable? Incapacitated? Me??? - Sunday, 19 September

So what’s the deal?  Do I look exceptionally intimidating or incapable or incapacitated? Why do restos not ask for my Passe Sanitaire?  It happened again this afternoon.

Pizza Momo beckoned me.  They had my favorite ‘za on the menu, the Quatre Saisons (just a bit of crushed tomatoes spread on the crust, then topped with ham, mushrooms, artichokes, olives and cheese, with some capers thrown in for good measure).  

So I sat down on one of their sturdy, wide-enough-for-my-butt, cushioned chairs.  The table didn’t wobble.  The host immediately brought me little bowls containing green olives and peanuts and a menu.  I’m not a complainer when the circumstances are otherwise, but I do like my comfort!  

Lots of other good-lookin’ stuff on the menu too.  This place could become habit-forming, and it's just a few blocks from the apartment.  But why didn’t they want to see if I was Covid-safe?  The mystery deepens.

Pizza Momo, 105 rue Saint-Antoine 75004, just steps from the Saint-Paul Metro.  https://pizzamomo.fr/en

And BTW, this sweet carousel is at the Metro exit!

A Very Short Trip to Burgundy! - Saturday, 18 September

Au Bourguignon du Marais sits at 52, rue François Miron, 1/2 block from my apartment.  It always seems to be bustling, so I thought I’d try it for supper tonight.  They specialize in foodstuffs, preparations and wines from Burgundy.  There seemed to be a few open tables, but apparently they were reserved since the host pointed to the one table available and asked if it was OK.  “Oui, merci!” was my reply.

For an amuse bouche they brought some little toasted baguette slices with a dish of cool crème fraiche with dill to spread/dip.  Very refreshing, but not something I traditionally associate with Burgundy.

Mi cuit (half cooked) foie gras terrine was available as a starter, so of course I had to go for it!  Two decent slices, a nice fig/strawberry pressed conserve, a swirl of pomegranate balsamic, great crusty bread, and lightly dressed salad greens were terrific.

I kept smelling the Beef Bourguignon that adjacent tables had ordered, so I just had to try it for my main course!  It came in a cute little cocotte and tasted as good as it smelled!  The big chunks of beef were fall-apart, melt-in-your-mouth tender, just slightly more gamey than you’d get in the U.S.  There were some small potatoes, peas, carrots, and cèpes (mushrooms, like our creminis or porcinis but more dense and deeply flavored), all swimming in a very tasty beef demi-glace, but this was primarily a beef beef and more beef show.  I thought it needed a bit more zing, so I added a little of that crème fraîche sauce from the amuse bouche, and voila!, I made Stroganoff!  (OK, slightly far afield, but nice, and it saved me from taking a trip to Russia!)  If I hadn't had the foie gras first, I might have been able to eat all of the Bourguignon, but I just became too stuffed halfway through.  I should have asked for the leftovers to take home.

To go with it all, I ordered a glass of their Domaine Ragot Vieilles Vignes Givry.  It’s a nicely drinkable pinot noir - a bit of cherry, currant and dry straw on the nose and red fruits on the palate, slightly dry.

The only disappointment was that, after all my efforts in the afternoon (see my previous post), they didn’t ask to see my Passe Sanitaire! 

Passe Sanitaire (with Bonus Anxiety!) - Saturday, 18 September

For this afternoon’s excitement-tinged-with-anxiety: obtaining my Passe Sanitaire (or a temporary one anyway).

So, to get into a resto, store, theater, concert hall, movie house, sport venue, shopping center, zoo, gym, monument (like the Eiffel Tower), etc. in Paris you need to show your “Passe Sanitaire” (health pass).  It’s given to you when you’ve been vaccinated (or, to a limited degree, when you test negative for the virus).  If you’re traveling to France you can fill out an online form and upload a copy of your vaccination card, and they’ll convert the data into a Passe Sanitaire.  You can then print out your pass or download the associated QR Code to your phone to display on entry to pretty much any establishment.  https://www.demarches-simplifiees.fr/commencer/passe-sanitaire-etrangers?locale=en

Another alternative is to go to one of the testing centers they have all over the place and get an antigen test.  Results are ready in 20 minutes.  They give you a QR Code that’s good for 72 hours.  It costs 25 euro for foreigners.  How hard could that be?!?

I submitted the online form for my Passe on September 2, and they say it will take about 16 days to receive it (via email), but mine hasn’t come yet.  So far I’ve been able to get onto the terraces of cafés and restos by showing my U.S. vaccination card, but to be safe I decided to get an antigen test.

So today I trudged down to the Pharmacie du Marais a couple blocks from my apartment to get it.  No worries, right?  I just entered, told them what I wanted, showed them my passport so I didn’t have to spell out my name, and paid my 25 euro.  They gave me a receipt to take to the testing technician - just go out the door, take a right, and enter a courtyard where the technician has an office, they said.

This is where it stopped being easy peasy!  

Unfortunately, this courtyard was one of the old ones, paved with a variety of boulders, some relatively flat and some really rounded (inviting my ankle to twist), with big gaps in between (inviting me to trip).  And the technician’s office was maybe 100 feet down the courtyard.  Nothing to do but to pluck up my courage and start shambling down the courtyard, looking for the flattest stones to step on like a little old lady (c’est moi!).  A snail could have beat me.  I made it in and back out without incident (other than some slightly frayed nerves).  

Happily, there were several cafés and bars right next to the pharmacie.  And I had to wait 20 minutes for my results.  So I figured I deserved an Affligem!

With any luck, before 72 hours expire I’ll have my official long-term Passe Sanitaire.  If not, I just might have to find a different testing center!

Traffic (or lack thereof) and Tartines - Friday, 17 September

For the last five years Paris mayor Anne Hidalgo has been driving hard to get people to stop driving (!) in her “Paris Respire” (“Paris Breathes”) initiative.  It started with banning cars from central Paris the first Sunday of every month, to eliminating cars from the quais along the Seine, to converting one lane on major thoroughfares from cars to bicycles/scooters, to reducing the number of parking spots, to banning high-polluting diesel and other vehicles more than 15 years old, to eliminating cars completely from some thoroughfares (only buses, bicycles, scooters, taxis and emergency vehicles are allowed).  She has made strides in improving public transport, adding more bike and scooter rentals, etc., but there is some debate about whether her initiatives have really reduced pollution, or whether they have just moved traffic jams to other streets, slowed traffic in general (making trips longer), increased the amount of engine idling, etc.  

For those of you who know Paris, I’m sure it will be shocking to see this photo of a major thoroughfare, rue de Rivoli, right outside my door, at 2:00 on a Friday afternoon.  I can tell you that I was shocked!  On my first solo trip to Paris in the late 1980s I stayed in a hotel just 1/2 block from rue de Rivoli, and I’ve walked along it or attempted to cross it or rode on it (in a bus or taxi) every subsequent trip, and have never seen anything like this except, perhaps, early on a Sunday morning.  It certainly is less noisy!

During the pandemic, restos, cafés and bars have been allowed to construct little platforms, in what were formerly parking spots or traffic lanes, outside their establishments to allow for more outdoor seating.  They’re usually one or two tables wide, often have awnings, and are fenced with planters, trellises, greenery, etc.  I went out for a simple supper at about 9:00 tonight (it’s gauche to eat before 8:00!) looking for a table at a resto I had read about that was a couple blocks from my apartment.  No luck - everything on the terrace and the extension was full at that place and the others on the same street.  (I should have known better.  Apparently, food delivery and grab-and-go services are up significantly, but Parisians still love to meet their friends at bars and restos, and Friday nights are even busier than others.)  

So, y’know, one wanders around a bit and eventually finds somewhere to eat!  I did find one empty table on the terrace extension of a bar/café.  I went for their tartine - a broiled open-faced sandwich on thinly sliced and toasted sourdough bread, this one with ham, tomato slices and chèvre (goat cheese), and served with a simple side salad.  Tasty!  Not haute cuisine tonight, but I’ll get that in the next few days! 

     

Airport, Taxi, Real Estate and Roof Guys - What a Great Bunch! - Thursday, 16 September

 

Once again, a Paris airport employee took pity on me when he saw me trudging along with my cane and (relatively small) carry-on near the end of my long walk and tram ride from the arrival gate to passport control.  He was on the other side of a big glass barrier and beckoned me over to ask if this was my final destination.  He asked why I didn’t request a wheelchair to meet me at the plane and pointed to the LONG line snaking around in front of the passport windows, adding that I could avoid that line almost entirely if I had someone pushing me.  (Which I knew of course, having been through this process many times and always deciding to walk it to get the kinks out after a long flight.)  He said “wait there for me, and I will take your bag and walk you through the handicap line.”  So I let him!  He walked me all the way through passport control to baggage claim, grabbed my suitcase for me, and walked me to the taxi area.  During our time together, I’m sure he told me 25 times that on my next trip I should tell the travel agent that I wanted a wheelchair to greet me - that it was free - that I could avoid the long line - that it would be much easier for me - that on my Paris departure I could go to the Delta desk and ask for a wheelchair - etc. etc. etc.  On repeat, I swear, 25 times.  I’m not complaining, though, this nice man went way out of his way to help me.  And this is not, in my experience, a rarity among CDG employees and among Parisians in general - they are, on the whole, most gracious to strangers, especially those who are a bit mobility-challenged! 

Traffic into town was bad this morning - some accidents along the way clogging things up, and there seemed to be a larger-than-usual number of giant trucks.  So it was a 90-minute ride, but I had a safe and efficient and helpful G7 taxi driver, and his car was very comfy, enticing me to doze off a couple of times!

I texted my Airbnb host, Julien, along the way to let him know my ETA.  He was right at the front door of 26 rue de Rivoli when I pulled up in the taxi. A really nice guy with impeccable English.  He handled my bags for me and walked me through all the features of this small but very comfortable 6th floor apartment (yes, there is an elevator!). 

And Julien provided me with a plain and a chocolate croissant, orange juice, jam, and Keurig-style coffee pods to tide me over until I could hit the grocery.  Aahhh…just what I needed!  Then a long nap on the very comfortable bed.  Life is good.

Check out this view of lovely Paris rooftops from one of my windows.  Just to the left of and above center you can also see a couple lovely Parisian roofer dudes!  They're in dark clothing against a white chimney.  (Click on any photo in this blog to see a larger version.)  

No Cracked Skull and a Silver-Spoon Life - Wednesday, 15 September

Good news – every trip needs one “near miss,” and I got it out of the way early this time, and I’m sure you’ll be glad to hear that my skull is intact!  

During the plane boarding process, my neighbor across the aisle was attempting to put a heavy carry-on in the bin above my head.  She lost her grip and it came crashing down, barely missing me, and just hitting the back of my seat.  It’s one of those split-second things – I didn’t actually see it coming but I sensed it just in time to duck.  Whew!  That thing could have bashed my head in.  Everyone around gasped.  She was very apologetic.  I forgave her.  I did, however, watch her carefully as she took her suitcase down upon our arrival!

So, the new thing in airline cutlery (at least back in the cattle car) is bamboo spoons/forks/knives.  Hmmm.  Good for the environment, but a bit unpleasant on the palate.  Give me sterling silver any day!  (Ya, ya, I know, First World problem, and for a very small slice of that world!)  I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth, but I sure do acknowledge and appreciate the “silver spoon” blessings that come my way, totally unmerited.  Including Paris.