So there is Paris...
I entered Paris in the late afternoon, the metro taking me very close to my hotel. I know little about Paris actual. I know little French. I took French 1 twice in High school. The first semester I got a C. The second semester I got a D. I didn’t really apply myself to the accusation of this language. I took it again just after high school so I could get into college and did slightly better. But that was all 20 years ago. I am fluent with French greetings (Bonjour, Bon soir.) and I can count above thirty. Plus I can say, “I am a red fish.” (Je suis un poisson rouge.) Not all of this is extremely useful.
Our hotel was in Montemarte. I didn’t know a lot about this area before I choose the hotel. But it was a good neighborhood to be stationed in. It’s north of city center and is defined by a hill and a cathedral. The population is pretty mixed, a lot of ethnicity and flavor, small art galleries and such. I climbed the hill to the cathedral on my first evening. It was late, 7pm. The steps of the cathedral were filled with young people just hanging out, enjoying the panoramic view of Paris. I think this is the place in the movie Amélie where the titular character makes her love interest climb the steps following her hints and look down through a pay-per-view telescope. That was interesting to realize and I would spend the rest of the trip seeing things I had seen in movies and television all my life. It was awesome to touch some of this stuff, to actually have a haptic experience to associate with the mythology of these far away places.
This is from the top of the steps:
I had dinner in a small café on a square just west of the cathedral. This was awesome. There was a crazy guy spinning and dancing and singing in the corner of the square, not hurting anyone. And the café’s garçon kept talking to him, yelling things at him in a friendly way. The guy would respond with a thumbs up and keep on with his act. I had a jambon fromage, pomme frites and bière. (Ham and cheese sandwich, french fries and beer.) When the sandwich came I was given mustard. I spread it on the sandwich and took a bite. As I did I realized three things. First, the bread was “French” bread, for real. The fries were “French” fries for real. And the mustard was, by default, Dijon. This whole meal was very amusing to me and I began to really like Paris. Even though the square was piled with tourists, it seemed all right. There was a good mix of people in most of Paris. Even on the steps of the cathedral, there were a majority of locals there. Enjoying a busker, having ice cream. It didn’t have the hectic “I-need-to-see-this-quick-so-I-can-get-to-the-next-thing” feeling that some of the other places in Europe have. It was just people sitting and enjoying the world. This was true for most of the things I did in Paris.
The view from the cafe:
The next morning I woke early and headed into the city. I was meeting my friend Hope, (who would be joining me on the rest of the trip) in the afternoon at the tower. My morning was spent wandering Paris, seeing things, getting a feel for the city. I walk down and saw the Pompidou Center.
This is a cultural center designed by Richard Rogers and Renzo Piano in 1977. The interesting thing about this building is that all the systems are on the outside of the building. And each system has a different color. So the circulation is red, the HVAC is blue, the electrical is yellow, the plumbing is green and the structure is white. A buddy of mine, Brad Gassman, once said that the thing about this building was that although it was interesting to have the systems exposed like this, they were in fact, 30 years later, suffering from degeneration. I am not sure I agree. I was looking for this degeneration and found little evidence. There was a lot of city grime, and I could imagine that the maintenance in general was a nightmare. Having to repaint all the ductwork and plumbing every couple of decades is a huge expense. But over all I felt like it was in pretty good condition. I paid particular attention to the joints and where the systems connected. There was a little rust, but not as much as I had expected. It will be interesting to get back and talk to Brad about this.
I then saw my first flying buttress. This is the Eglise Saint Merri. I didn’t go in. But I admired the flying Buttress.
On my way to the next building I wanted to see, L’Institut du Monde Arade, (The Arab Institute), I stumbled across Notre Dame. So I checked that out for a while. Went in, walked around. Took some photos.
This was one of the places in Paris I found thick with obvious tourists. I don’t much like the whole tourist business. I once lived 10 miles from Blarney Castle for 9 months and didn’t go there once. And I think I would really like Blarney Castle, but for all the milling about of people who haven’t taken the time to understand the cultural significance of the place. Anyway, in my opinion, the Disney-fication of sacred places is a crime against culture. That the throngs of people pushing and shoving there way into Notre Dame to snap pictures and gawk at stain glass is obscene. And when I find myself confronted with exploring a place of architecture or cultural interest that is infested with tourism, I get really uptight and want to leave and not participate in the degradation of the place. The people who control the cultural artifacts are ultimately responsible for this, I believe. And throughout the trip I saw both good and bad examples of this control.
L’Institut du Monde Arabe, however, saw only a few obvious tourists. I went to see this window screen. Each of the circles is a controlled oculus, which opens and closes in a spiral allowing a varied amount of light into the space beyond.
Since I first discovered this building I have been fascinated with this idea. The pattern is reminiscent of the vernacular screens on windows in the Middle East, but with this extremely technical operation. The building was designed by Jean Nouvel in 1987.
After seeing this building it was time to make my way to the tower. I walked along the Seine. I am fascinated with the rivers of the world it turns out. I have seen a few of them. The Thames, the Lee, the Liffy, the Aker, The Snohomish, the Tiber, the Columbia, The Snake, the Isar, the Pearl, others. I believe I account for my life by the rivers I have seen. Where others measure themselves by the states and countries they have visited, I count the rives I’ve looked over. The are the veins of the world. They reach the highest points and travel down to exactly sea level. A river, by its nature, is a traveler, it meanders and moves and crosses borders and I just really like rivers.
Here is the Seine:
I met Hope at the Eiffel Tower. I figure there are a few places in the world where you can just say, “I’ll meet you here, at this exact spot.” and neither of you have ever been there before but you know exactly where it is and how to get there. The Eiffel Tower is one of these places.
We walked up the Avenue des Champs Elysees, and down to the Louver.
Arc de Triomphe
We only had an hour in the Louver, but I’ve now seen the Mona Lisa, and Venus Di Milo. Eh. There were much more interesting paintings and statues. But both of the rooms with these artifacts were pact with people. I just don’t understand both why people are like that and why it repulses me so. I mean I was at the Louver too. And I was walking down the Champs Elysees. And I was at the Eiffel Tower. And I was being a tourists. And I don’t want to separate myself from that, to believe that I am better then the tourist, despite what I said a few moments ago or what I will say in the future. But it just seems to me that there is a lack of respect in the “Tourist” that rubs me the wrong way. (I will most likely bring this up for throughout the description of this trip, as there were places that were terribly repulsive to me because of the tourists, and others where it wasn’t repulsive at all. And I am trying to figure it out my attitude and why I feel the way I do and where that feeling comes from. Any contradiction on my part regarding this over the next couple of days is just me following different lines of thought. Bare that in mind and any comments are welcome.)
The pyramid entry of the Louver by I.M. Pie it much more interesting then I had given it credit for and it works a lot better then in person then I ever thought it did in photos.
After the Louver Hope and I walked back through the city to Montmatre. I found some interesting pieces of graffiti. This space invader one was cool to get.
I began explaining some of the ideas Justin and I have talked about regarding graffiti and sticker culture. Hope was totally into it. By the end of the trip she was spotting them and photographing them as well. Ultimately, this makes walking through a city much more interesting. Discovering interesting buildings, interesting doors, or details, and cool little pieces of art. You can’t do that on a bus or in the subway.
We had dinner in Montmatre. I wanted to show Hope the little place I had discovered the night before. She wasn’t that impressed. Ah well. I had coq au vin and a bottle of wine for dinner. Until now I still hadn’t heard from the German. I was a little worried that something had actually happened to her. I tried contacting a few other people regarding her whereabouts, but I had heard nothing. At dinner Hope and I made alternate plans if we, when we got to Munich, did not find Anna waiting at the airport. I had no phone number, no way of getting a hold of her. We figured it would be impossible to get a reasonable place to sleep in Munich as Oktoberfest was beginning the day after we got there. So we talked about renting a car. Maybe going to Budapest or Switzerland. Or trying to see if we could hook a place on someone’s floor in Munich. I wasn’t sure what to do about Anna.
We got back to the hotel at 9pm. I checked my email one last time before bed and there it was. A note from Anna. She had been on vacation for the four weeks since I last emailed her. I thought this was a possibility and hoped it was what was actually going on. The alternatives, Anna in trouble, Anna deciding she wasn’t having me at her house, Anna struck by amnsia, etc, were terrible to think about. I was stoked that vacation was the case. We made arrangements to meet in Munich and Hope and I turned in looking forward to our early start the next morning and all the things that Munich would hold.
All things considered, I found Paris to be an excellent city. I like it a lot. It is my favorite European city so far that I’ve been to. I have been thinking about it, and my new goal is to get a design job and move there within the next five years. I would live in Paris and that would be awesome. So there you go. Everyone will be invited to my house when I get settled there. I look forward to seeing you all and drinking wine and going out into the French countryside.
Our hotel was in Montemarte. I didn’t know a lot about this area before I choose the hotel. But it was a good neighborhood to be stationed in. It’s north of city center and is defined by a hill and a cathedral. The population is pretty mixed, a lot of ethnicity and flavor, small art galleries and such. I climbed the hill to the cathedral on my first evening. It was late, 7pm. The steps of the cathedral were filled with young people just hanging out, enjoying the panoramic view of Paris. I think this is the place in the movie Amélie where the titular character makes her love interest climb the steps following her hints and look down through a pay-per-view telescope. That was interesting to realize and I would spend the rest of the trip seeing things I had seen in movies and television all my life. It was awesome to touch some of this stuff, to actually have a haptic experience to associate with the mythology of these far away places.
I had dinner in a small café on a square just west of the cathedral. This was awesome. There was a crazy guy spinning and dancing and singing in the corner of the square, not hurting anyone. And the café’s garçon kept talking to him, yelling things at him in a friendly way. The guy would respond with a thumbs up and keep on with his act. I had a jambon fromage, pomme frites and bière. (Ham and cheese sandwich, french fries and beer.) When the sandwich came I was given mustard. I spread it on the sandwich and took a bite. As I did I realized three things. First, the bread was “French” bread, for real. The fries were “French” fries for real. And the mustard was, by default, Dijon. This whole meal was very amusing to me and I began to really like Paris. Even though the square was piled with tourists, it seemed all right. There was a good mix of people in most of Paris. Even on the steps of the cathedral, there were a majority of locals there. Enjoying a busker, having ice cream. It didn’t have the hectic “I-need-to-see-this-quick-so-I-can-get-to-the-next-thing” feeling that some of the other places in Europe have. It was just people sitting and enjoying the world. This was true for most of the things I did in Paris.
The next morning I woke early and headed into the city. I was meeting my friend Hope, (who would be joining me on the rest of the trip) in the afternoon at the tower. My morning was spent wandering Paris, seeing things, getting a feel for the city. I walk down and saw the Pompidou Center.
This is a cultural center designed by Richard Rogers and Renzo Piano in 1977. The interesting thing about this building is that all the systems are on the outside of the building. And each system has a different color. So the circulation is red, the HVAC is blue, the electrical is yellow, the plumbing is green and the structure is white. A buddy of mine, Brad Gassman, once said that the thing about this building was that although it was interesting to have the systems exposed like this, they were in fact, 30 years later, suffering from degeneration. I am not sure I agree. I was looking for this degeneration and found little evidence. There was a lot of city grime, and I could imagine that the maintenance in general was a nightmare. Having to repaint all the ductwork and plumbing every couple of decades is a huge expense. But over all I felt like it was in pretty good condition. I paid particular attention to the joints and where the systems connected. There was a little rust, but not as much as I had expected. It will be interesting to get back and talk to Brad about this.
I then saw my first flying buttress. This is the Eglise Saint Merri. I didn’t go in. But I admired the flying Buttress.
On my way to the next building I wanted to see, L’Institut du Monde Arade, (The Arab Institute), I stumbled across Notre Dame. So I checked that out for a while. Went in, walked around. Took some photos.
This was one of the places in Paris I found thick with obvious tourists. I don’t much like the whole tourist business. I once lived 10 miles from Blarney Castle for 9 months and didn’t go there once. And I think I would really like Blarney Castle, but for all the milling about of people who haven’t taken the time to understand the cultural significance of the place. Anyway, in my opinion, the Disney-fication of sacred places is a crime against culture. That the throngs of people pushing and shoving there way into Notre Dame to snap pictures and gawk at stain glass is obscene. And when I find myself confronted with exploring a place of architecture or cultural interest that is infested with tourism, I get really uptight and want to leave and not participate in the degradation of the place. The people who control the cultural artifacts are ultimately responsible for this, I believe. And throughout the trip I saw both good and bad examples of this control.
L’Institut du Monde Arabe, however, saw only a few obvious tourists. I went to see this window screen. Each of the circles is a controlled oculus, which opens and closes in a spiral allowing a varied amount of light into the space beyond.
Since I first discovered this building I have been fascinated with this idea. The pattern is reminiscent of the vernacular screens on windows in the Middle East, but with this extremely technical operation. The building was designed by Jean Nouvel in 1987.
After seeing this building it was time to make my way to the tower. I walked along the Seine. I am fascinated with the rivers of the world it turns out. I have seen a few of them. The Thames, the Lee, the Liffy, the Aker, The Snohomish, the Tiber, the Columbia, The Snake, the Isar, the Pearl, others. I believe I account for my life by the rivers I have seen. Where others measure themselves by the states and countries they have visited, I count the rives I’ve looked over. The are the veins of the world. They reach the highest points and travel down to exactly sea level. A river, by its nature, is a traveler, it meanders and moves and crosses borders and I just really like rivers.
I met Hope at the Eiffel Tower. I figure there are a few places in the world where you can just say, “I’ll meet you here, at this exact spot.” and neither of you have ever been there before but you know exactly where it is and how to get there. The Eiffel Tower is one of these places.
We walked up the Avenue des Champs Elysees, and down to the Louver.
We only had an hour in the Louver, but I’ve now seen the Mona Lisa, and Venus Di Milo. Eh. There were much more interesting paintings and statues. But both of the rooms with these artifacts were pact with people. I just don’t understand both why people are like that and why it repulses me so. I mean I was at the Louver too. And I was walking down the Champs Elysees. And I was at the Eiffel Tower. And I was being a tourists. And I don’t want to separate myself from that, to believe that I am better then the tourist, despite what I said a few moments ago or what I will say in the future. But it just seems to me that there is a lack of respect in the “Tourist” that rubs me the wrong way. (I will most likely bring this up for throughout the description of this trip, as there were places that were terribly repulsive to me because of the tourists, and others where it wasn’t repulsive at all. And I am trying to figure it out my attitude and why I feel the way I do and where that feeling comes from. Any contradiction on my part regarding this over the next couple of days is just me following different lines of thought. Bare that in mind and any comments are welcome.)
The pyramid entry of the Louver by I.M. Pie it much more interesting then I had given it credit for and it works a lot better then in person then I ever thought it did in photos.
After the Louver Hope and I walked back through the city to Montmatre. I found some interesting pieces of graffiti. This space invader one was cool to get.
I began explaining some of the ideas Justin and I have talked about regarding graffiti and sticker culture. Hope was totally into it. By the end of the trip she was spotting them and photographing them as well. Ultimately, this makes walking through a city much more interesting. Discovering interesting buildings, interesting doors, or details, and cool little pieces of art. You can’t do that on a bus or in the subway.
We had dinner in Montmatre. I wanted to show Hope the little place I had discovered the night before. She wasn’t that impressed. Ah well. I had coq au vin and a bottle of wine for dinner. Until now I still hadn’t heard from the German. I was a little worried that something had actually happened to her. I tried contacting a few other people regarding her whereabouts, but I had heard nothing. At dinner Hope and I made alternate plans if we, when we got to Munich, did not find Anna waiting at the airport. I had no phone number, no way of getting a hold of her. We figured it would be impossible to get a reasonable place to sleep in Munich as Oktoberfest was beginning the day after we got there. So we talked about renting a car. Maybe going to Budapest or Switzerland. Or trying to see if we could hook a place on someone’s floor in Munich. I wasn’t sure what to do about Anna.
We got back to the hotel at 9pm. I checked my email one last time before bed and there it was. A note from Anna. She had been on vacation for the four weeks since I last emailed her. I thought this was a possibility and hoped it was what was actually going on. The alternatives, Anna in trouble, Anna deciding she wasn’t having me at her house, Anna struck by amnsia, etc, were terrible to think about. I was stoked that vacation was the case. We made arrangements to meet in Munich and Hope and I turned in looking forward to our early start the next morning and all the things that Munich would hold.
All things considered, I found Paris to be an excellent city. I like it a lot. It is my favorite European city so far that I’ve been to. I have been thinking about it, and my new goal is to get a design job and move there within the next five years. I would live in Paris and that would be awesome. So there you go. Everyone will be invited to my house when I get settled there. I look forward to seeing you all and drinking wine and going out into the French countryside.
posted by jeffrey ottem at 4:47 PM
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