Saturday, September 9
Trompe l’œil on rue de Vaugirard.
We had an absolutely perfect dinner two nights
ago at l’Espadon Bleu, 25 rue des
Grands Augustins, 76006, Tel. 01-46-33-00-85.
This is one of three restos owned by the famous Jacques Cagna. His nephew manages it. Don’t miss it.
Last Sunday, we
were on one of our long walks along the banks of the
I think that
was the day we went to the brasserie called Nesle, named for the rue de Nesle
where it is located. We had very good
croque monsieurs on Poilane bread for 8.50 each. Lo and behold a couple of Floridians from
that by that time (2PM), the demonstration or whatever it was that caused the
gendarmes to send us up to the street would be over, and we could continue our
gendarmes had moved, but they were still blocking the way and they sent us
back up to the street somewhere just before the Pont au Double, which
supports the road that runs immediately in front of Notre Dame. Something very big was happening on the
Parvis in front of Notre Dame, that’s for sure. I felt sorry for the owners of the Six Huit floating café, because they lost all of
their lunch business for the day. The
cops would not let their customers have access. (It is a great spot to stop for a drink and
look up at the magnificent church, by the way.)
On the Quai du
Montebello, the sidewalk was jammed with people. We looked across at the crowd in front of
the grand church. I asked a very
approachable-looking young cop if it was a demonstration. He smiled and said, no, not a
demonstration, but an “inaugeration.”
they were doing is re-naming and re-dedicating the Parvis so that it is now
named after the deceased Pope Jean Paul.
The event was very controlled, by invitation only. They were stopping people from walking
along the bank of the
Indeed, I was
right, too, because there were plenty of demonstrators who showed up and
crashed the inaugeration, according to the local papers the next day. Lots of people are ticked off that the
Parvis is being named for a Pope who opposed women’s rights, gay marriage,
use of condoms, etc.
while Tom and I were taking a newspaper-reading break in between long walks,
we had one of the kitchen windows open because it was very warm. These windows are very, very high up on the
wall – we cannot see directly out of them without a tall ladder. They open with chains that are attached to
the window latches.
quiet was pierced by an organ blast.
That’s right, there seemed to be a pipe organ in the kitchen. It was silent again. Then, after a while, an organist was
playing at the unseen console again, a few bars here and there, familiar
hymns that I vaguely recognized.
remembered. One of the two young men
who have businesses on either side of our building – the young men who were
concerned for us the day when we moved and we could not get into the building
because the digicode’s electric circuit had been turned off – had been
carrying boxes of things from one storefront into the next storefront. Neither storefront has a sign, but he
clearly works in both of them. He was
the one who had offered to let us put our suitcases inside his place to get
them farther out of the rain.
We had not
taken him up on his offer because we wanted to remain right by the door,
suitcases at our sides, in case someone exited. But we remember his kindness, and we greet
him whenever we see him outside using his mobile phone or climbing onto his
organ, I realized that the things he had been carting about in the boxes were
bits and pieces used to make the organ pipes work. Wooden strips, hinges, leather bellows,
lots of mechanical widgets. These were
a familiar sight to me because I used to know a couple guys who lived in my
I had received
detailed tours of their home and business, so I know what the bits and pieces
of organ pipe ranks look like.
where we are staying is very old – circa 1650. Hence, the stone steps up to our first
floor (second floor, in American) flat are very, very worn -- so worn that they are concave in the
middle. One must pay close attention
when taking these steps! It is sort of
like being in a fun house at the fair, where everything is distorted.