Heading home

This may well be our last posting from this Paris visit .. if you're reading this for the first time, it may make more sense if you start with the first posting below on December 18th. Never having done a travel blog before, the idea didn't hit us till we'd been here ten days. After that, as you'll see, I haven't been able to shut up.

Nonetheless, we're sad to be heading home the morning after next. Of our many trips here, this one, ironically, has definitely whet our appetite to really move here for a while, just as our advancing age makes that more and more difficult. A big difference has been the neighborhood and the actual apartment in which we've lived these three weeks. It's been far quieter, far from the tourist crowd, a bit more upscale and comfortable, and with a little of the small-town ambience to which we're accustomed. You can check out the apartment as well as Valerie's other two French flats ("Provençal Paradise" in Aix-en-Provence, which we've also rented, and "Riviera Romance" in Vence) at its owner's website (click here). Till you do, here's how it looks. We'd be happy to answer your questions about it:

Another reason this trip has been more pleasurable is that we're eating out a little better, dining tonight with our good friend Richard, an American in Paris whom we've known here for 30 years. We'll eat just a few steps away in the center of our village at Le Mouton Blanc (the White Sheep).

So what's left to say? Obviously, we think travel is a good thing. After all, in retirement we've rented long-term in Norway, Venice, Stockholm, Aix-en-Provençe, Portugal, Paris four times (once for three months), Spain (four months), Mexico, Palm Springs, and a dozen times in and near San Francisco. Plus one glorious packaged week in Morocco. Only two of those times did feel we needed a car to explore the area, otherwise we just settled in and pretended we belonged. Before retirement we twice lived long-term in Salzburg and once in England, plus two three-week backpack trips in our 50s and 60s to Greece and Turkey. There are of course travel photos on our family website  :-)

Travel is great fun, of course, and one hopes it expands horizons. And who knows, in your own small way you may even be making a contribution to better international understanding. In my teaching, nine times we took choirs to Europe for three weeks expressly for that purpose (and always to Paris), staying in private homes as much as possible to build bridges of friendship and trust. Since then, traveling independently has for us become the best way to do that. It's not so hard, quite likely it's cheaper so you can stay longer, and certainly it offers pleasures not possible with group travel. For starters, take a look at the well-known vrbo.com website for furnished short-term vacation rentals.

So we're soon on our way .. picked up by an airport shuttle, then to Amsterdam, Minneapolis and our hometown .. in one very long day. The trip home is always more tiring. But this one will leave us with remarkably pleasant memories. 

Joyeux Noël everyone. Au revoir, Paris .. literally, till we see you again.

The ballet

Unbelievably lovely here today. Sunny, 55 degrees and of course no school. Maybe lots of people have a work holiday because the parks and gardens are full of people enjoying the bright green lawns and the fountains, just like a summer weekend. Shoppers everywhere too, in many shapes and speaking many languages. You hate to think the overweight ones might be Americans; then, unfortunately, you see one carrying Rick Steves' PARIS book. 

In our apartment we're lucky to look at a small park across the street in front and onto a green courtyard behind us:

We're just back from coffee, a walk beside the Louvre along the Seine (below, with the two square towers of Notre Dame in the distance) and some shopping ourselves, and ready for an early supper and a trip to the majestic old Garnier Opera House (photo and photo) for an evening of ballet. More on that later.

The ballet

The day I started grad school in upstate New York fifty-one years ago, a professor said the thing he most enjoyed when he went to New York City was the ballet. This South Dakota country boy couldn't imagine that. Now he can! Tonight was one of the loveliest musical evenings ever. Our seats, the only ones available a month ago, like at the opera last night were at the very end of one of the rings. But this time it was the bottom ring, not the top, and the seats were like our own private box, right across from the elaborate Royal box. We could almost have have jumped onto the stage or straight down onto the tuba player. As from similar seats at Lincoln Center once, we could practically smell the sweat. Those lighter-than-air leaps? They end with a thud. Those effortless lifts? Straining, quivering muscles. But what an ideal balance of music, drama, scenery, costume, athleticism and, of course, elegant movement .. music by Tchaikovsky, a tragic love story (Eugene Onegin) by Pushkin, danced by a world-class ensemble. Thankfully, Elsa had told me the plot. From then on, in one of the world's grand old opera halls (with a new ceiling by Chagall), it was sheer delight.

And then, just across the street, Christmas lights on the Galleries Lafayette department store. What a Christmas.

Ah, but then there's that transit system. After spending just a minute at Galleries Lafayette, we rounded the corner to the bus stop only to see our #52 departing, heading straight to our neighborhood. No problem, an electric sign tells you how many minutes till the next bus arrives. Wrong .. this time the sign said "Last departure. Service terminated." At only 10:20. Happily, there's a Metro station right there too, so we took it home instead and probably faster, but with two problems. We just missed a departing train at the point where we had to change lines, waiting an extra-long nine minutes. And in walking that underground "correspondance" from line 8 to line 10, we had to climb 49 steps!!!!! And THAT is why we always prefer the bus!!

Magic Flute

We've never understood Mozart's ambiguous "Magic Flute" and don't comprehend it much better now, but we did see an evocative performance this afternoon. Though the Théâtre des Champs-Elysées seats about 2200 it doesn't feel all that big. There are only 16 rows on the main floor, above which rise three horseshoe rings. No elevators. Obviously they really pack you in. 

Yet it's one of two or three main concert halls in Paris (plus the two opera houses) and the place, in 1913, where Stravinsky's "Rite of Spring" was first performed, causing a riot which forced Igor to flee out a backstage window. Click here.

We knew when we bought tickets in November that only the worst seats were still available, and so they were .. at one end of the top ring, right above the stage, partial view. But we could hear well, of course, and see a lot, so we're glad we went. Interesting concept, costumed as if it were about 1890 in Vienna but using stunning hi-tech projections as scenery and background. All black and white, moving and still, abstractions, geometry figures, realistic images, everything. The stage had two low full-width steps, both slightly inclined and each with a people-mover belt like in an airport concourse. Oddly, they used a Mozart-era orchestra--old wooden clarinets, oboes and flutes, natural valveless horns, mini-bassoons, small-bore brass, and strings with no vibrato whatsoever. The result--a very edgy, incisive orchestral sound--was nonetheless less powerful than modern instruments so it didn't cover the singers .. all of whom were excellent, even the trio of young boys who repeatedly stole the show. 

"Magic Flute" was written in German, of course, and sung here in German. But .. good news: there were supertitles. Bad news: they were of course in French. Cleverly, and probably just for today's performance, at the point where a flute player (in the orchestra) and Papageno (on stage with his little pan flute) toss musical phrases back and forth, suddenly we hear the beginning of "Jingle Bells" in the pit, finished by Papageno on stage! At the end, after 3½ hours, the audience clapped so long (still nobody leaving) that the orchestra finally had to play several unrehearsed Christmas carols (badly) and everyone sang along: "O Tannenbaum" ("Mon beau sapin, roi des forêts" but isn't it a German carol?), then "Jingle Bells" again. And then again. Very festive indeed.

Despite our fears, busses were running well today after all. And it was so mild that people were drinking and dining (and smoking) outside without heaters. 

So we caught a bus to a good little restaurant we knew would be open (they told us so a couple weeks ago) and again enjoyed their simple regional fare .. a white pudding with truffle stuffing, farmer sausage with sautéed apple slices, wine, coke, and a piece of traditional "Buche Noël" ("Christmas log") for dessert (which can be elaborately decorated and cost up to 100 Euros .. click for photos). Caught two busses home almost without waiting. Today it was hard not to spend $200. 

Still, we have three more big days to go. And then a return to Paris ASAP. Very nice Christmas.

Christmas Eve

So it's Christmas Eve day 2011 in Paris. Sunny, deep blue sky, 45 degrees, calm, lovely. To celebrate, we'll dine at a better restaurant at 2pm. From a previous stay here, we know most restaurants will close today and tomorrow. Many of those staying open will offer elaborate Christmas feasts which were reserved long ago. We also know the Christmas subway and bus schedules are reduced, especially tomorrow. (Five years ago our Christmas dinner was in an Algerian kabob place, just us and four dark guys smoking hookah pipes.) But after several dead ends, we did get a reservation way across town for today so we'll soon head out. Even this one had no seats for dinner so we'll have lunch, when you often get at least some of the same menu, certainly the same quality, at a lower price. We found it in an online blog surveying the better Christmas choices. 

The Metro stop there is "Gobelins" after the famous weavers in that neighborhood who've been serving the French elite for centuries. At their workshop during our first Paris visit in 1973, we saw them weaving (with mirrors!) tapestries so huge that they take several years to complete. Imagine what a lengthy (and expensive) project it was to do the six Unicorn tapestries mentioned in this first installment of this blog!

We're also catching up on a bit of housekeeping .. washing clothes, buying apartment things that we use up (washing machine soap, coffee, jam, a light bulb), and canceling a credit card after someone used it for $200 in spurious Walmart charges Tuesday (tho we haven't been in a Walmart for years except for one visit at Thanksgiving). Luckily, we have another card along. Luckily too, with our apartment phone we can call even the US for free, where I spoke with a delightful USBank rep in Fargo at 3:15am his time. He was clearly an upbeat we-can-help-you Midwesterner!

In the interest of good international relations, we had a pleasant "visit" yesterday with a shopkeeper in our village, an older gentleman who was tending the jewelry store over the lunch hour (about 2pm). After he wondered whether we were British and then possibly Canadian, he proudly told us that the store had been at that location since 1922, started by his grandfather and now run by his daughter. He spoke no English but we told him about our two grandchildren and showed him their photos on my iPod. He said some of his family also lived near San Francisco. He was thoroughly charming, cheered perhaps that we did buy Elsa a Christmas present there  :-)

Would you believe, there's no baby Jesus in the big crèche at Notre Dame! Where did He go, this Journeying Jesus, this Missing Messiah? The crèche will be there till early February, so maybe the babe appears only on Christmas Eve, a Yearly Yesu? Other churches we've gone by did have a baby; one was a big blond-headed Swede, with sound -- a Jabbering Jumbo Juvenile Jesus.

So how is Christmas in Paris? Less spiritual and more commercial. No snow, of course. Finally this morning we heard the first seasonal music on an otherwise pleasing "public radio" classical music station. It was "Silent Night" in German in the style of Lawrence Welk, then immediately more Haydn. As far as we know, there are very few school or church Christmas concerts as we know them. But many store windows and even entire business blocks are elaborately decorated and lit, like it's a contest. Our neighborhood bakery (while displaying museum-quality Christmas pastries) does it right with a traditional manger scene hand-painted on its windows.

Elsa has just come back from the neighborhood Saturday market with exquisite treats for later this Christmas Eve. As she just wrote Rolf, "Honestly, how could anyone walk through that market and not want to rush home with goodies to cook?" This evening at the American Church there's a Service of Lessons and Carols at 7:30 and also at 11. We'll go early, we fear there might not be timely transit at midnight. Somehow the Parisians manage it, of course. When we sang there five years ago, that late service was packed. So we're off   :-)

* * * * * * *

Later .. our Christmas Eve lunch was wonderful. Tonight and tomorrow this restaurant offers their Christmas feast at 75 or 139 Euros per person ($100 or $180) but from their confusing game-filled menu we could also order a three-course price-fixed meal at just 26 Euros (35 at dinner time). For her appetizer (here properly labeled an "entrée" or "entry" to the meal), Elsa ordered delicious bone marrow like her mom sometimes had in North Dakota, but this was a big beef leg bone sawed lengthwise and broiled!! How wonderfully primitive. Can you take it home for the dog? It gives new meaning to the phrase (and how do you say it in French?), "May I please have a doggie bag?"

My appetizer was paper-thin Norwegian salmon doused with olive oil and topped with toasts, a mound of Chantilly cream and smidge of caviar:

Her plate was salmon, mine was beef, both in a pungent sauce reduction. Her dessert was the house specialty, a warm Grand Marnier soufflé (below), while mine was slices of pear in a thick warm crusty eggnogy sauce, topped with nutmeg and pear sorbet. Plus a kir royal, a better red wine, and two espresso coffees. All for $100. We'd go back.

Then we did the tourist thing and walked the street of the celebrated fashion-design houses (the rue du Faubourg-Saint-Honoré) where Santa made another seasonal purchase. Ended up at the giant Ferris wheel just as the sunset sky was turning a lovely pink, but the lines were so long. We bussed to the other fashionable shopping street, rue Montaigne (below), window shopped, and then bussed to the nearby American Church. 

But we were quite early, our friend the organist wasn't there yet, and we couldn't yet get in the church even to sit down. So instead we sat at the bus stop in front and quickly caught our regular two busses homeward, right on time and not packed. I was worn out anyway because last night I had the onset of a cold .. we had to skip dinner and the play with Richard (he said Scrooge was great). Our most moving observance of Christmas was watching "A Service of Lessons and Carols from Kings College" in real time at 11pm rather than listening to it on the radio in mid-afternoon at home.

Tomorrow .. "Magic Flute" at the (click) Théâtre des Champs-Elysées, "without contest one of the most beautiful places of spectacle in Paris."

It's just one Big Day after another. We're loving it and wondering how soon we can come back again   :-)

l'Isle Saint-Louis

We're characters in a play here .. just play-acting, pretending, that we belong here or that we understand the French. Luckily our Paris play is a romantic comedy and not a tragedy, with occasional scenes of farce and mystery.

Of course, over the years we know best those parts of the city where the bus (less so the Metro) has taken us easily. So today we returned to the center, back for the first time to Notre Dame on its own island and to the quiet residential island next door, the Isle Saint-Louis.

Even here, on familiar ground, it's about the thrill of discovery, wondering just what we may stumble upon. Today's surprise was a superb yet reasonable lunch in a humble time-forgotten crêperie seating just 16 people .. my ham omelette oozing with emmental and butter, Elsa's buckwheat crêpe Provençal stuffed with crème fraiche, tomatoes and olives, and two espressos. So far so good. Then we noticed "crème salidou," learned it was a buttery carmel sauce from Brittany, and ordered some on a dessert crêpe. Merveilleux! So we bought two jars of the stuff and some regional biscuits, and then did a bit of Christmas shopping. It's hard not to spend $100 per day   :-)

About the money. Compared to the old days, it's so much easier to travel from country to country where they now use the Euro. The bills are great because the various denominations are different sizes and colors. (We should do that.) But the coins must have been designed by a US congressional committee. The smallest bill is 5€ so your pocket is always leaden with coins, 2€ and 1€ and smaller. The 2€ and 1€ are silver but they can easily seem the same size. The rest are copper, but the 50 cent coin is larger than a 1€ and you can't see the vague numbers to differentiate it from a 20 or 10 or 5 or 2 or 1. Luckily, nearly everything you buy is priced in even or half Euros so you don't pay with small coins. But they're given as change at the grocery store. So we now have 22 one- and two-cent coins piled here on the desk. Waiters won't even accept them as tips. Our US coins are illogical enough .. think about our big nickel and little dime. But this is silly.

It may be difficult this Christmas weekend to see places that remain on our list: the (click) European House of Photography in the Marais, the old shops on rue Mouffetard, coffee at (click) the Grand Mosque tea room, Rick Steve's popular rue Cler neighborhood, the museum at Jean Nouvel's (click and then play the video) Institute of the Arab World, and of course that giant ferris wheel. But first we have a French-language Christmas play and dinner tomorrow night with our friend Richard, an extravagant Christmas Eve lunch splurge, mass Sunday at (click) Notre Dame, Mozart's (click) Magic Flute Christmas afternoon, and ballet Monday evening at the old (click) Garnier opera house. Lots to do yet!!!

Louvre concert

Interesting day yesterday. Soon after we made our snap decision to spend these three weeks here, we tried to get tickets for an Orchestre de France concert tonight with 86-year-old Pierre Boulez conducting at Salle Pleyel. But it was sold out. Then we got here and saw they were playing two of the three pieces at 8 last night, for free, in the Pyramid of the Louvre. We went by there at 6:15 on our way to dinner and saw a huge serpentine line forming already .. so we got in it. Soon there must have been well over 1000 people. Was an odd but heartening crowd .. nobody our age, of course, and mostly young males (on their way home from work?). Finally at 7 they began letting people in. So far so good. Know what? No chairs! Had to sit on the floor! For an hour till it started and then for the entire concert. But here's the heartening part .. all these people probably knew in advance they'd have to sit on the floor but they came anyway. And we stayed too, we really wanted to hear Verklärte Nacht and the Bartok Concerto For Orchestra. But I can't imagine any other Americans we know who would have done so. Crazy. Hoping to have better sense today   :-)

On the way to the concert we had an interesting little walk along the Seine. That's because our bus driver inexplicably left his route, stopped, and with an intense explanation, in French of course, ordered everyone off. Luckily another bus came along pretty quickly. Yes, there's a downside to traveling independently, huh?

Elsa has decorated the loveliest little holiday wreath on our coffee table, making it seem far more festive here. And we're listening to Christmas CDs we brought along. It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas.

We're off this afternoon to one of the "treats" we've promised ourselves, a return visit for the world's best hot chocolate at an elegant old tea room called Ladurée. Then maybe we'll ride the HUGE ferris wheel at the Place de la Concorde. What fun. 

Later .. OK, forget Ladurée. After a 30-minute wait (thankfully it was a balmy 51 degrees), the hot chocolate was thick like pudding but chalky, and the pastries were vastly inferior to our corner patisserie. What once seemed chic now struck us as tourist-driven kitsch (though it hasn't changed much). For $40 (two chocolates and two pastries) we got tired 19th-century decor like an old movie set and monogrammed little paper hot pads on the handles of our individual canisters of chocolate. Disappointed and nearing rush hour, we skipped the ferris wheel and headed home .. on the most jam-packed bus ever. Even this most user-friendly urban transit system can get a bit wearisome. What saved the day was a light supper at our friendly corner bistro, especially when the waiter (who delights in my broken French) brought me a pitcher of wine instead of a glass. Whoopee! It sure beat the $2 merlot from the supermarket. I'd have the same appetizer as a meal any time .. smoked salmon and tiny shrimp on the freshest lettuce, drenched in olive oil. Unlike Ladurée, this was $40 well spent.

It's nearly Christmas and people are still eating/drinking outdoors (under heat lamps). Is it the pleasant ambience? Or do they mostly wish to smoke??

We've now been here two weeks, probably longer than many American tourist visits. What a treat that we still have another week to go, with many exciting events in store!

Our village of Auteuil

We're living in a far-southwest neighborhood called Auteuil, in the 16th arrondissement, which years ago was a separate village. A 40-foot Statue of Liberty replica stands a step away on an island in the Seine. Now Auteuil is part of Paris and rather upscale, but it still retains its narrow curving central street and its simple character. No tourists here (in fact we haven't seen an American anywhere yet because we avoid the tourist areas), only well-dressed, well-behaved French people going about their day.

Out for coffee this sunny morning and past our humble but classic "traditional" bakery:

Here's a view of our building, probably pre WWII, and the little cars squeezed in on our quiet street:

Paris had a quarter-million people in 1328. Perhaps because so many have lived so close together for so long, people seem respectful of each other, to live similar lives, and even to dress in somewhat the same tasteful black. Always a scarf, often heavy and colorful. (It really does keep you warm!) One never hears them honk their horn or shout to a friend across a crowded restaurant. We may see their risk-aversion and reluctance to change as lacking in originality and individualism. They may see us as friendly, informal and outgoing but also loud, inconsiderate, devoted to a rather ruthless brand of materialistic capitalism, inflicted with a raging me-at-all-costs wild-west individualism, and mindlessly accepting notions of American exceptionalism that paint all others as second-rate. Doubtless there is truth in both views.

Of course we're experiencing not only a foreign culture but also life in a very big city, which would overwhelm us if it were New York or Chicago, not just Paris. Even so, here are some general impressions so far.

To many Americans, it's vaguely anti-patriotic to suggest that Europeans, and particularly the French, have anything to teach us. Yet our stay here suggests otherwise. Even in these distressed economic times, there's little to suggest Parisians want to abandon their social model which calls for high taxes but provides generous quality-of-life benefits for all (though that model will surely have to be modified). If everyone has easier access (than in America) to education through university, to what may be the world's best health care, to living-wage jobs at all levels, to streets which are both attractive and safe .. who's to say we shouldn't want the same? The waiters at coffee this morning were all mature men of a professional waiter caste who apparently make a decent living, life long. Your restaurant bill, of course, includes a 19% value-added sales tax and an automatic 15% tip to help make that possible. For that matter, everything here costs more, in part to enable more people to earn a living wage. People here apparently accept the fairness in that. Would we?

If jobs like that, which we consider menial, pay a comfortable living wage here, that may explain why one rarely sees an underclass called "the poor." Indeed, in our 20+ trips to 20+ European countries, it's hard to recall ever seeing slums or gangs of unemployed youths idling on street corners. Everywhere we've been, even in Turkey or Morocco, we've felt safer than at times on the streets of San Francisco, Chicago, Philadelphia or New York. Decades ago, Europeans asked us "why do you treat your blacks so poorly" and "how about all those homeless in San Francisco." Now of course they have increasing racial problems of their own, but still one senses a tradition of social cohesiveness that we've lost. You do see people offer up their seat on the bus to women and the elderly. In can vaguely suggest those myopic "good old days" of yesteryear in our own country when people enjoyed friends, family and community, desired the same things from life and could be considerate to each other.

Those are most certainly gross over-simplications. But for what they're worth, here are more. Europeans choose to pay handsome "up front" taxes but down the road (compared to us) they pay less for prisons, for untreated chronic illness, for crumbling infrastructure, for emergency food and housing for the poor, for combatting public violence and high infant mortality, and for the debilitating effects of failing schools and inadequate public health in chronically poor neighborhoods. They agree (compared to us) that it's wise to restrict gun ownership and the corrupting influence of money in politics. To them, government is not the enemy. They willingly fund far-flung public transit and public TV/radio, they regulate their environment and business climates to protect the little guy, and they band together to maintain social cohesion. There's far less income inequality here, where most enjoy four or five weeks paid vacation a year. They may be unable (or more likely unwilling) to drive their car to the supermarket, so they shop nearly every day, often at an outdoor fresh-produce market that's been there for decades, bringing home only what they can carry. Hence they eat fresher, more enjoyably and to better health than we do. Rarely does anyone look overweight and never obese. I'd bet few Parisians would change places with us.

More experienced travelers (including our son and wife who recently lived here for two years) would doubtless disagree with much of the above social-gospel epistle. Nonetheless, be assured that France is not populated by militant, hostile Socialist pinkos who never bathe. Indeed, the only B.O. I've encountered lately may well have been my own   :-)

Driving in Paris

I'd rather poke needles in my eyes than own a car in Paris. Parking is impossible. There are no meters or lines showing how much length each car gets, so as traffic waits people try to back into spaces literally six inches longer than their car. Some park their Smart cars sideways. That's one reason the vast majority of cars are tiny hatchbacks from Renault, Peugeot and Citroen. There are smaller models here of popular brands (VW, Mercedes, Audi, even Toyota) that we never see at home. No American cars, few Asian. Over half of Europe's new cars have long been diesels; they cost more here too but get much better mileage and diesel fuel is a little cheaper. Down at the corner today diesel costs $7.35/gal vs. $7.80 for gas. So if you don't drive? A pass for unlimited subway and bus travel costs us $83 a month (same as one tank of gas). They say you're never more than 2-3 blocks from a Metro station, so that works pretty well. Last year we did rent a superb VW diesel stick-shift Golf in mid-Paris for a trip to the Normandy beaches. (I want one!) Drove out of town right through the ten-lane traffic circle that surrounds the Arch of Triumph. Actually it wasn't too daunting; it was so crowded and slow-moving that you had plenty of time to think. In 1984 we stupidly did the same with a right-hand-drive stick-shift English Audi and nearly had a coronary.

All over Paris there are self-service racks of sturdy bicycles called "velo lib" ("bike free"). For very little money you take one, ride to your destination, and check it in there. (They tend not to be left at the top of hills, of course, so they have to be redistributed at night.) Well here's a first .. just around the corner sit three little "auto lib" electric cars, plugged in and waiting for brief rentals. Eco-friendly, huh?

With parking space so limited, little cars sometimes end up in illegal places. But I've never seen any "parking police" giving out tickets. However there are lots of tow trucks carting those bad boys away. One variety actually lifts the entire car up onto the bed of the truck with a sling .. and off they go, once with another illegal parker in tow.

In part we travel independently (rather than with package tours) because we get a better sense of what a place is really like. Besides, it's fun (in a perverse way) to pretend we're locals and try to figure out how to cope. Why are there SO many buttons on the washer and dryer? How did everyone know there was only one very precise way to fall into line at the Medieval concert yesterday at the Cluny? Why does everyone speak with such quiet consideration at restaurants, on the bus and Metro, and even on the streets? At the nearby bakery (where we now go every day) the line automatically forms neatly to the right, then you exit out the other door. No departing from the rules or you'll get admonished with the "windshield wiper" gesture. We've come to Paris probably a dozen times since 1973 and it seems more people speak English every time. More smiles too. Even then I said that travel in Europe taught me much about life in America. Ours surely isn't the only way or necessarily the best way to do everything.

Christmas vacation started today so there were suddenly kids on the bus with their mom going to the big Christmas Ferris Wheel at Concorde, right by the Orangerie museum where we were headed to see the Monet water lily panoramas which completely encircle you. Mom carefully taught her boys all the landmarks along the way and held their hands tight on the bus and at the crosswalks. No running loose! Now we also hear that kids live on our floor. Their flats are probably the same size as ours, just one bedroom and 750 square feet. Imagine raising a kid or two there till he/she grows up and moves out? On a street with no traffic, our very nice building has three apartments per floor for eight floors. Most Paris streets are lined with similar though older and shorter apartment buildings; it's one of the highest-density cities in the world. There's only one "skyscraper" near the center and Parisians hate it. Strict rules for sorting the garbage. Keep the TV soft, no noisy baths late at night. Great central heat. So it's a warm, cozy, quiet place to live. Based on similar places for sale in real estate windows, ours would cost well over a half million dollars.

We must really be on vacation because we sleep so late in the morning. Perhaps that's because we're at a higher latitude than anybody we know except relatives in Norway; we get only 8 hours 15 minutes of sunlight per day. The sun rises at 8:39 am.

Weeks ago we tried to get tickets for a major orchestra concert Wednesday night but it was sold out. Turns out they're doing most of that program Tuesday night for free under the glass pyramid entrance of the Louvre. Wish us luck!! Line forms to the right.

Christmas 2011 in Paris

In 2004 we rented an apartment for a month in southern France from an American woman who owns three French flats, one in Paris. We'd never stayed in that one, though I had walked past it in a nice neighborhood. A few weeks ago she emailed all her former renters to say it was suddenly available in December at nearly half price. We had decided to skip Europe this fall, but in 30 minutes we'd booked it for three weeks and the airfare too. Arrived here Dec. 8th at 8:00 am.

Not surprisingly, we found the airport bus drivers on strike! Had to take a cab. In morning rush. Stop-and-go for an hour. There went the first $100. (The cab driver was a tiny Asian woman who tossed our suitcases into her ultra-quiet lux Mercedes like a stevedore.) Found the apartment, knew the cleaning lady would still be here so dropped off the bags and went for coffee. She needed four hours, however. So we bought transit passes, explored the neighborhood, had lunch, but were soon Real Sleepy with much time left to kill. What to do? So we jumped on a bus and rode and rode .. warm, quiet, comfortable .. past the Eifel Tower, the American Church, the Louvre, Notre Dame, Hotel de Ville, to the end of the line. And back. Now nicely settled. Monday, we similarly rode the other bus from our neighborhood to the end of its line (the Opera house) just to see how it would take us there.

The Metro system is quick to any part of the city but we try to avoid its stairs (hard on the knees) and take the bus whenever possible. Thursday Elsa stayed home and I Metroed to the Museum of the Middle Ages (the Cluny), my favorite. Those Middle Age guys (wish I was still one of them) were no slouches. The glorious Unicorn Tapestries there seem more beautiful at every visit. They cover the walls of their own dimly lit circular room, an intimate chapel to courtly femininity. Click here, then on the yellow unicorn head, then on "The Lady and the Unicorn" and then on each of the six tapestries:

       http://www.musee-moyenage.fr/ang/homes/home_id20393_u1l2.htm

You never want to leave the Cluny. It's small, occupying one of the oldest residences in Paris (15th century), but it happens also to incorporate the ruins of a large public bath from Roman times. In the one-time Roman "frigidarium" we'll hear a Medieval Christmas concert the 18th. The tapestries, the furniture, the paintings, stained glass, statuary, manuscripts .. endlessly fascinating.

We also admired the big Christmas tree in the atrium of the Galleries Lafayette department store:

Right away that first day we bought a copy of the Pariscope magazine, a 190-page weekly events booklet which comes out Wednesdays, and learned of a Christmas concert Saturday at the American Church Paris where we sang for some weeks in 2006. Weren't sure that's what it said (in French) so emailed the choir director who told us there were two concerts (5 and 8pm), that tickets were required, and that both were sold out. We'd forgotten all of that. But he found two for us and set them aside. So we did enjoy the 5pm (from the very back row) in that very special place. But as we squeezed past a sour grandma into the crowded pew, she snapped to Elsa that we were intruding on her space. Luckily, some room opened up beside me and we were able to move one person to the left. Even so she didn't budge, the old grouch, but squeezed sullenly closer to her granddaughter. As the concert ended, Elsa wished her a "joyeux Noël" anyway but she only lectured us in machine-gun French. C'est la vie. (So far she's the only grouch in Paris.) At the end the audience joined in singing several carols in both French and English. Though the services there are entirely in English, it was exciting that the audience sang the French verses with greater familiarity (because the director had shrewdly added a top French children's choir to the program, so all their parents were in attendance).

       http://www.acparis.org/

Monday evening we met our son's wife Karen for dinner! Though they were just here for ten days over Thanksgiving, she arrived again Monday for two days of meetings relative to her job. So we went out to eat, which is always a pleasure because they have intensely explored the city's restaurant scene. The restaurant she really wanted was closed Mondays, her second choice was already booked full, and her third choice was too far away. So she asked her hotel for suggestions and (at $500 per night) they gave her good advice, a typical mid-to-upper-middle restaurant two blocks away, just beside the Ritz Hotel where Diana was staying when she died. Typically, the place seated perhaps 30 people all of whom have reservations for 8pm; when they all leave a second "seating" may or may not arrive. Fixed-price three-course menu: six choices for each course. Parisians can eat extremely well but they stay sleek because they're on their feet all the time and because the portions are small. Exquisite powerful flavors .. mussel soup (Karen) and scallops (us) for appetizers, beef filet (me) and pheasant (Karen, Elsa) for main course, then poached pear, or four tiny pieces of cheese (which cost extra) or rice pudding ("like grandma used to make") for dessert. Splitting a bottle of wine, our share was $140! Please send money! Since then it's back to a big pot of Elsa's wonderful soup in our refrigerator.

Except we did stop by a neighborhood Italian restaurant Friday for lunch and barely got in without a reservation. We never notice the difference between a brasserie or cafe, a bistro and a real restaurant, but we soon saw that this one had cloth tablecloths, an expensive menu and was soon full of businessmen. But again the food was so flavorful .. I had a warm brochette appetizer (with shaved ham, firm cheese and lots of olive oil) and Elsa ordered a risotto main course, also with prosciutto and smoked mozzarella, perfectly prepared. Cost $56 with no drinks, no dessert. She said it was the second-best risotto ever, after the best in Siena.

Then we window shopped the old Jewish quarter, the Marais. Managing the crowds and transit is getting harder each trip .. but we're still loving it. We try to head home before the busses fill up in the late afternoon and we have to stand. Even so, the ride home took 45 minutes.

That's because we live way southwest in Paris, in the ritzy 16th district about 20 blocks from where Rolf and Karen lived for two years till last March. Every morning he went out early for a fresh baguette for breakfast .. to, of course, "the best bakery in Paris." Turns out that's the first shop we see when we head out to coffee in the morning. The aromas as we walk past are enticing, tho we hadn't yet stepped inside till we came back from the Marais today. So our supper was soup plus a baguette with camembert. And an orange. And wine. And chocolate. Pretty nice.

We wanted to visit the Musee d'Orsay (above), Paris' famous Impressionist museum in a former train station. So I checked out a quicker way to get there .. not by bus or Metro but by the RER train. Maybe in Paris you take a train to reach the train station, non? So I went .. but when I got on the same train to come back home, it went way in the wrong direction. I jumped off at the next stop (by now it was raining) and found a bus home. No problem. Only the rain. Every day we have sun. And clouds. But never rain. Till that first train ride.

Then we read about "Paris' best pizza restaurant" and it's right here in our neighborhood. So we ran out at 5:30 for a quick slice, got nearly there, and came ze downpour horrifique. How do you say, it rained les chats et les chiens? And we'd left our umbrellas at home. Even so, we hurried on .. only to find it's not an informal Nisswa-style beer-and-pizza dive but a real restaurant offering three-course fixed-price meals starting at $46. It didn't even open till 7:00!! Dripping, we humbly sloshed homeward, ducking into an Asian takeout place for teriyaki beef and curried rice .. where Elsa got something caught in her throat and began coughing violently. Instantly one Asian owner rushed over with extra napkins while the other pounded her on the back. They couldn't have been more sweet. So we stopped at Rolf's "best bakery in Paris" for dessert .. and enjoyed "Paris' best" mocha eclairs :-)

Yesterday morning was sunny with a blue sky, so we both took the train and fortunately it went right to the Musee d'Orsay! C'était un morceau de gâteau. And yesterday afternoon it brought us back home. Again in the rain. Again no umbrellas.

It's like that old song: "it's plain the rain falls mainly on the train."

Wonderful Christmas lights everywhere. And a pleasant little Christmas concert Wednesday night in the modest neighborhood church at the corner. It's fun to come back to a familiar city for our fourth long stay in six years .. but to a new part of it. Life is good.

Dec. 18 .. now we've been to the medieval Christmas concert at the Cluny. What a treat. Six highly professional young musicians affectionately singing and playing the gamba, a lute, a little harp, bagpipes, fifes, drums, and about ten types of recorders, all with great skill and imagination. Some 500 years ago there must have been music exactly like this in those same halls.