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Paris Beyond the First Blush

8/29/2014

Le Passe-Muraille by Marcel Aymé is freaky fun just off the beaten path in Montmartre

That first glimpse of Paris left me breathless.

As a young girl, I didn't know what to expect.
The big monuments like the Eiffel Tower and the Arc de Triomphe are my first memory
and I still remember how curious it felt to look at people, so stylish and elegant,
as far from my Midwestern roots as you could get.

It was as close to an out-of-body experience as I'll probably ever realize.

The Burghers of Calais by Auguste Rodin

But after that first blush of Paris, it's always been about the little things.
The window of temptations at Gerard Mulot, brimming with sticky tarts and seductive cakes.
That first taste of vin ordinaire you order at lunch, so surprisingly good.
A sneaky peek into a hidden courtyard or an open door.
Posters in the Metro that are both sexy and smart.
The surprising wallop of a tiny sprig of parsley - remarkably memorable.
Lovers cuddling closely on a bench in Parc Monceau.
A well-behaved dog happily ensconced under a table at his master's feet.

Once, as I sat at a café table, a large dog came running around the corner.
The mustachioed Gallic waiter greeted him and offered a very large bone from the bistro
platter he carried, abruptly turned and went back inside as the dog happily returned "home".
It was as if they met every day at the same time and place.
It was exactly 3pm.
No need for the standard "Vous avez choisi?"

French children are adorable.
Oh sure, all kids are cute but seriously, les enfants are spectacular.
I do miss the old days when schoolchildren sported tabliers (smocks) to protect
their good clothes. Today you're more likely to see Nike shoes and ballcaps.
But still, they already have that "something-something" that sets them apart.
Sweet little voices and appealing accents trigger a pause and
a much needed time-out from sightseeing activities.

Art museums, galleries, street art, unpredictable little touches of artistic
ingenuity grab you every time you turn around.
Every neighborhood seems to have its own special flavor.

The first time I stood in front of Rodin's Burghers of Calais I wept.
He captured emotion like I've never seen before. And in bronze!
It made the blood pulse through my veins.
That's what Paris brings to the table.
Just open your eyes and let it in.

Speaking of the table, la cuisine francaise isn't a myth.
They don't mess around. Good food is expected.
My favorite meals usually involve simple fresh food or a hint of grandma's cooking.
So many choices, there's never enough time for it all.
You can flirt with every cuisine around the world -- It's all in Paris.
Do you want couscous or banh mi today?

The pairing of food and wine is taken seriously in Paris and all of France.
In proper French dining etiquette, you're supposed to choose your food first, then the wine.

Why?
It just makes sense.

How can you choose your wine before the meal
when you don't know what food you're having?
The food and wine should be complimentary
like a horse & carriage, not putting the cart before the horse.
That's why you're asked if you'd like an aperitif before your meal.
It's not meant to accompany the feast.
It's meant to bait your taste buds and invite your appetite to dinner.

In Paris we're able to dance with kings, embrace an emperor and paint the masters.
We can discover our inner poet, political firebrand or wandering minstrel. Which ever brand
you choose, I'll wager you'll end up embracing the romance of your new imaginary self.
Go ahead, scratch your itch.
After all, who isn't better after visiting the capitol of France?

Paris is for fun people.
You know, the kind that like to sneak off to have a smoke when the boss isn't looking.
The ones who can tell a good joke at a party.
Or who aren't too scared to backpack through Europe.

I'm not brave. Not even a little. But when I'm in Paris, I feel like a rock star.
Without question, I'm way more fun than the grownup who lives in Nashville.
I can stay awake until the wee hours, I can drink more, I'm able to eat more and still feel good.
When I'm in Paris, I notice everything around me, no sleepwalking allowed.
I'm a pirate and a princess.

Naturally, it was a Frenchman, Antoine de Saint-Exupéry of Le Petit Prince fame,
who sagely wrote "We see well only with the heart."
So true, so true, our hearts are full of Paris moments.

American transplant Josephine Baker said it well in her hit "J'ai Deux Amours"
(written by Vincent Scotto, Georges Koger & Henri Varna, loosely translated to English below)

I Have Two Loves

It is said that above the seas,
Over there under the clear sky,
Exists a city, where the stay is enchanted,
And under the big black trees,
Every evening,
Towards it tend all my hopes.

I have two loves
My country and Paris.
By them always
Is my heart ravished.
My savannah* is beautiful,
But why deny that
what puts a spell on me is Paris,
Paris in its entirety.

Seeing it one day
Is my pretty dream.
I have two loves,
My country and Paris.

When at the distant shore
I sometimes see a ship depart
To him I extend my arms
And heart beating with excitement,
Whisper softly, I say, “Take me!”

I have two loves…

*In Madeleine Peyroux's version, she substituted Manhattan for my savannah.

Oh yes, it's all in that song -- "my heart ravished by Paris."
If you want to live life to the fullest, go to Paris.
End that dull old routine. Search for a plot twist --- the good kind.
Two loves may well be better than one.

After that first blush of Paris, you're in for the full body rosy-tinted look of love.

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Francois' Fontainebleau Facelift

8/27/2014

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It's immense, it's royal, it's over-the-top.
As home to countless kings and one emperor, it must be Versailles, right?

Au contraire!
We're talking about the amazing chateau and estate of Fontainebleau.
Always the bridesmaid and never the bride, Fontainebleau usually gets
second billing to the fabled world of Versailles.

I'm not here to throw stones at the palace of our favorite Sun King but here's why I think Fontainebleau should be near the TOP of your your next Paris To-Do List.

Francois I, better known as Francois Premier

Fontainebleau epitomizes the greatest hits of French architecture.
This UNESCO World Heritage site, accessible to any Paris traveler,
(a 40-minute train ride away from the gare de Lyon), was born in the 12th Century
as a medieval hunting lodge. It took on new life when King Francois I transformed it into his preferred residence in the 16th Century. He longed to create a "new Rome" at Fontainebleau, importing some of Italy's best Renaissance artists and architects.

King Francois I is most famous for his stealthy courting of Leonardo Da Vinci, finally convincing the painter/sculptor/poet/scientist/inventor to leave the Italian state in order to shed his grace and legacy on France. But what is less known is that Francois set his cap (or should I say crown) on a number of other Italian artisans in his quest to make his French kingdom into the Renaissance capitol of the world.

You may well wonder exactly what is The Renaissance.
I've always found it a bit confusing because it refers to a period that
advanced a re-birth of culture from the days of antiquity.
They were trying hard to put the bad old days of medieval decline behind them.
In an effort to create modernity, they looked to history long BEFORE the dark ages of medieval Europe, the years where Greece and Rome were superpower superstars.
It seems a bit perplexing to look backwards in order to look forward but that's exactly how they re-invented art, architecture, literature, language and philosophy, beginning first in Italy, ultimately finding the way to France via King Francois I.

When Europe was transformed from a medieval swamp into a Renaissance marvel, the King of France naturally wanted to be front and center. Fontainebleau became his "baby" -- his personal favorite among a long list of residences he fought to restore (Amboise, Chambord, Blois and the Louvre just to name a few).

The results of his thoughtful effort are fantastic. Hunting lodge begone! This is a graceful palace, both dignified and resplendent. More than 1500 rooms make for more of a city than a chateau. The murals, chandeliers and stucco relief sculpture will immediately fight for your attention. Before long you'll be tempted to stand on your head to gawk at the decorated ceilings. Tapestries by the dozen compete for best of show and in no time you'll be tempted to go for a joust
or a spot of archery, transfixed by this new old world.

Outside the chateau, the big wow, without question, is the horseshoe shaped grand staircase (Escalier du Fer-à-Cheval) where Napoleon bade his final
au revoir to his tired but loyal troops before going into exile.

Can't you picture that scene?

"I go, but you, my friends, will continue to serve France.
Her happiness was my only thought. It will still be the object of my wishes.
Do not regret my fate; if I have consented to survive, it is to serve your glory.
I intend to write the history of the great achievements we have performed together. Adieu, my friends. Would I could press you all to my heart."

Napoleon Bonaparte – April 20, 1814

The day we visited, we were lucky to see a troop of costumed actors as they readied for a re-enactment of those times. It was on a Sunday with beautiful blue skies, so it was busy but not crowded. Our visit felt more like dropping by a
rich uncle's villa than touring an iconic landmark. The pace was slow, a welcome relief from that horrible herding effect you feel at some other well-known sites.

Francois I opened the first royal tapestry workshop at court in Fontainebleau.
From 1530-1610, it served as forerunner to the more famous Gobelins Factory.
The tapestry works nearly overshadow paintings at this chateau,
again setting it apart from Versailles.

Fontainebleau inspired Francois I in his quest to guide his kingdom to a modern age. Here he plotted exploration of the New World, standardized the French language and promoted a civilized society, encouraging cultural growth and activity.
The arts were nurtured under his rule with a passion for
poetry, dancing, philosophy and music.

Even today, Fontainebleau serves as a backdrop for learning.
The chateau is now occupied by the Ecole d'Art Américaines, established by General Pershing at the end of WWI. It includes a music conservatory that has been served by a long list of famous composers and musicians including Maurice Ravel, Igor Stravinski, and Arthur Rubenstein to name as few. The Ecole des Beaux Arts stresses architecture in particular and together, the Fontainebleau Schools nail it as another winning collaboration between France and the United States of America.

Yes, those are breasts. Named "Nature" by Niccola Pericoli, another Italian artist who helped shape the chateau.

John D. Rockefeller, Jr., the son of Standard Oil founder
John D. Rockefeller, was instrumental in yet another restoration effort.
He offered millions of dollars to the French for the much needed re-hab after
World War I (also used for the chateau of Versailles and the Cathedral of Reims), just a portion of an estimated $537,000,000 legacy of philanthropy over his lifetime.

The French government rewarded him with their most prestigious merci,
the Grand-Croix de la Legion d'honneur.

The surrounding grounds and forests of Fontainebleau are as well known
to the average Parisian as those of Versailles.

The "Bleau" as they lovingly refer to it, offers rock climbing, hiking and bird-watching to all those wishing for some fresh air and an escape from the city.
There are over 65 square miles of greenery, including oak, pine and beech trees
in such abundance you'll feel hundreds of miles away from Paris.

Wildflowers, mushrooms and thousands of species of animals, birds and insects make this forest into a virtual fairytale where you'll expect to run into damsels and knights. Here you can write your own Fontainebleau story, "Once Upon a Time....."

The former royal hunting grounds offer solace to wildlife and nature, including wild boar, fox, elk and some 250 different species of birds.
Many visitors get so swept up in the beauty of the forest, they miss the chateau completely -- but that would be a shame.
Take some time also for the gardens and canals that surround the chateau.

"Not much was really invented during the Renaissance,
if you don't count modern civilization."
P.J. O'Rourke

Thank goodness for the Renaissance.
Thank goodness for Francois I, Napoleon B. and John D.

Fontainebleau's facelift offers a grand opportunity to
discover another time, another place
in beautiful France.

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Don't Eat the First One!

8/25/2014

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Just like Mom's -- there's nothing better!

One of my favorite childhood memories is of my French mama standing at the stove flipping crêpes and fussing at me, "Don't eat the first one." She insisted the first crêpe of the batch wasn't any good. I would assert it was perfect as I quickly grabbed it, relishing my favorite treat. We'd go through the same dance every time.

Her crêpes were perfect, thin and crispy on the outside, soft and comforting on the inside.
I'd sprinkle a spoonful of sugar on each one, roll it up and pop it in my mouth,
savoring each bite as if it were made by Escoffier himself.

Pretending to eat daintily at first, with each subsequent bite my addiction
took over until I became more like Homer Simpson in both manners and expanding belly.
I would sit for as long as she was willing to twirl the batter into the hot skillet, wait until the undercarriage was slightly browned and crisp and gracefully flip it in the air to finish.
My brother and I competed to see who could eat the most. By the time our crêpe feast was over, we would both be a bit wired from the combination of the carbs and sugar.

Mom would finally sit down to eat the last crêpe and complain "Oh, this batch isn't very good." Every time.

I hate making crêpes. There, I've said it.
For someone who loves to cook, crêpe-making should be a no-brainer.
Milk, flour, eggs and butter form the base and it's just a matter of whipping them up, letting them set up (oh, the patience part, there lies the problem) and then practicing my swirl and flip.
Ugh. Not my thing. Didn't inherit the crêpe-creating gene. But I sure like eating them.

In France, crêpes are as popular as ever.
An original French "fast food" staple, you'll spot a crêperie in just about
every town, particularly in the region of Brittany, where they're called galettes.
The chief ingredient in a galette (sometimes called blé noir) is buckwheat flour
which gives them a heartier look, darker and somehow more serious than
their flour-based counterparts but oh, they taste like heaven!
They're still thin as a movie starlet, and delicately gauzy as the lace curtains in most of the local establishments. I guess the Breton talent for lace-making translates to their favorite food.

Filled with pretty much anything you choose -- but hold on, not too much! -- these crêpes are my 2nd favorite (after Mom's, of course!). The locals wash them down with cider, usually a slightly alcoholic version, served in pretty bowls instead of cups. One time I made a mistake, ordering a glass of wine in a tiny crêperie in Auray and got a funny look from the server.
He was apologetic after I tasted the vinegar he served and tried to explain
it's probably been behind the bar for several years.
Lesson learned. Drink what the locals drink.
p.s. Brittany is the only region in France that doesn't make wine. Duh!

A hearty galette is perfect any time of the day

Dessert crepes.
I forgot to mention my mother's crêpes suzette, the wildly boozy, show-off version of crêpes. When I was growing up, she used to make them for my boyfriends.
Now you know how I got a date every Saturday night...

Julia Child made them famous here in America.
Who can forget how easy she made it look, just a little extra sugar, butter, o.j.
and orange peel with a dose of brandy and poof -- it flames tableside.
Great show, great taste of France.

Other French chefs make fancy savory versions, filled with ham and gruyere cheese, rolled and topped with tons of cream and baked in a hot oven --- over the top delicious!
A good crêpe will cure anything.

Crèpes are for breakfast, lunch or dinner. Any time is the right time.
And kids love them! It's a great way to introduce your child to new foods.
No box to open, no weird ingredients, just wholesome goodness.
And, admit it, they're a little bit sexy. Pick one up and feed it to your partner.
Go ahead, call it a French kiss.

Have you ever heard of socca?
It's a crêpe made famous in the south of France, specifically in Nice.
A simple combination of chickpea flour, olive oil and salt & pepper on a very hot griddle does the trick - et voila, you have an amazing treat.
Highly recommended.

Ultra-thin socca is a chickpea sensation in Provence

Crêperies are a welcome escape from fancy food and high prices

It seems that every culture around the world boasts their own interpretation of the crêpe.
Toad-in-the-hole from Great Britain, dosas from India, scallion pancakes from China,
tiganites from Greece and palacsinta (fabulous, often filled with poppy seeds and
sugared cottage cheese) from Hungary just to name a few.
I love a good Dutch Baby recipe -- sort of a souffléd crêpe baked in a
hot cast iron skillet and filled with apples or berries.

My other crêpe-related childhood memories include pancake breakfasts at church.
These were not remotely thin nor were they french.
They were hearty, made in the American/Swedish/German manner.
The pancakes were out of this world and so much fun, heaped with maple syrup and love.

Here in Nashville, we have a wildly popular eatery called Pancake Pantry. There's always a long line of hungry diners outside the door, waiting to get their favorite version of more than a dozen different choices. It's a staple for both locals and out-of-town guests. I can't bring myself to try their version of crêpes but I've eaten my fill of good old American-style pancakes and am especially fond of their potato version. With more than a dozen interpretations of pancakes a few of their popular choices include sweet potato pancakes, blintzes, and Pigs in a Blanket. Who knows, you might even run into Taylor Swift or Vince Gill while you're there.

In Music City we also have a suspiciously named pancake of sorts called the hoecake. Decidedly southern and sometimes referred to as a johnnycake, it is decidedly not healthy, especially when cooked in bacon grease à la Paula Deen, a popular southern-fried chef.
Hoe cakes are deliciously cornmeal based, a real treat. They're about as far from a crêpe as any pancake I know but I still recommend a nibble if you're up for a taste of the old South.

Here's a fun crêperie we visited in Collioure, France with a bus inside the restaurant!

Typical Breton bowls

Back to my favorites pancake of all, crêpes -- in my favorite city of all,
Paris, where there is much to celebrate.
The Montparnasse neighborhood in particular is a beehive of crêpe activity.
Traditionally, Breton natives would leave their villages in Brittany, bound for the big city,
arrive at gare Montparnasse where they would set up traditional shops nearby selling
their famous nourishment. You can't walk very far in the neighborhood without
running into a favorite crêperie in the charismatic streets surrounding the train station.

There are dozens of crêpe restaurants in Paris, including street vendors.
Parisians generally don't walk and eat but you'll see plenty of tourists doing that,
holding their banana and nutella paper-wrapped treasures and looking very
pleased as they stroll and munch.
It's a true portrait of Paris.

Whether you're in Brittany, Nashville or Paris -- or Budapest or Hong Kong
for that matter, enjoy one of life's most perfect treats, the crêpe.

W.C. Fields once said,
"The laziest man I ever met put popcorn in his pancakes
so they would turn over by themselves."

Me: "Hmmm, would that work with crêpes, too?"

OK, probably not.
Guess I'm forced to go back to Paris to get my sweet fix.
A bientot, I'm packing my bags right now!

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Serendipity-Doo-Dah

8/22/2014

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Serendipity

1. an aptitude for making desirable discoveries by accident

2. good fortune: luck

Source: Dictionary.com

I believe in serendipity.
You can find "it" all over Paris.

Wandering down any street, you're likely to run
smack dab into a magical moment.

It might be the welcome smell of a new boulangerie.
Or the sight of an ancient door newly painted a bright hue.
Perhaps you'll hear a young man performing a classic tune on his harp.
Or stumble upon the perfect photo op.
Or get hit with the sudden inspiration to write a novel.
Yes, it seems there's good fortune to be found around every bend in Paris.

From my favorite Robert Doisneau print -- Truly a Parisian moment.

Sometimes those moments are quiet and unassuming.
A little glass of vin rouge enjoyed with your favorite friend can make you
feel like you've hit the jackpot right when you really need it.

Watching the world go by when you have nowhere better to go than
your café chair / park bench / balcony is really pretty special.

Occasionally all you have to do is show up and there it is.
Cherish that Paris moment.

At times the sky seems to be aligned in your direction.
Lucky star or just plain luck, it doesn't matter;
when you're in Paris, you expect good things.
Good, better, best; it's your story.

Sometimes I'm accused of seeing the glass half-full.
That's never been the case in the City of Light.
My glass overflows.

"Mister Bluebird's on my shoulder."
From the Disney Movie "Song of the South"; lyrics by Ray Gilbert

A single smile can turn your day into an even better one.

Even a so-called haughty Parisian might loosen
his armor if you give him a little smile.

Those hard-working magicians of the city's tourist trade
deserve a smile from you as well -- and you'll earn good karma.

The only time I don't practice my own smile medicine is when I'm leaving the city.
I try to remember Dr. Seuss' famous wisdom:
"Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened."

When you waltz down the streets of Paris, let it all go.
The blah of yesterday. The worries about tomorrow.
Paris is the place to hope, to dream, to expect better things for the future.

How many people get the opportunity to be in this glamorous city
even once in their lifetime?
Embrace it. Trip over your own good fortune.

And if you're an arm-chair traveler, that's serendipitous, too.
There are enough books, movies, songs and photographs to keep your
Paris-on for a lifetime of good feelings.

Paris is like Forrest Gump's box of chocolates.
You never know what you're gonna get.
Except that it's all good.

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Do You Know Nantes?

8/20/2014

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The LU Biscuit Factory is now a hip arts center with galleries and bars

Whenever I plan a trip to Paris, I also organize a side-trip.

Depending on the length of the visit, the pleasure trek can be a simple one-day excursion to some nearby town such as St-Germain-en-Laye or Giverny or it can be a
more substantial look into the heart of France.
For these, it's especially fun and easy to go there pre-Paris,
straight from the airport via the RATP.

In years prior, we had visited many chateaux in the Loire Valley but had overlooked
the Western Loire completely. That was easy to remedy, starting with a trip to Nantes,
the capital of the Western Loire, referred to as the Loire-Atlantique. It's a mix of the Loire and Brittany (Nantes was once the capital of Brittany) and offers the best of both.

In just a little over two hours, we whooshed past villages and wide open fields on the TGV,
soon to be rewarded with a virtual paradise of initiative and discovery.

Nantes deserves far more attention from travelers than it gets.
It's impressive in so many ways.

Famous for its historic past (the Edict of Nantes and the horrific French slave trade),
Nantes is banking on its future with Les Machines de l'ile, a fantasyland of
creative thought and enterprise, linking everyone's favorite master of imagination,
legendary local writer Jules Verne with the mechanical genius of Leonardo da Vinci.
This inspired ingenuity comes together via some of the best visionary craftsmen in France.

The miracle of the machines percolates with its star, a 40-foot tall elephant that roams the city. Onlookers squeal with delight while 40+ riders at a time get an
up-close peek at his mechanical skeleton.
You have to see it to believe it.

There's something for everyone at this cultural entertainment park, even for nerds like me. Visitors are allowed to observe the creative gallery of the workshop from a balcony up above and the process, though tedious, is heart-stoppingly magical.
Oh to be an artist or an engineer, you'll want to go back to school as soon
as you see these creative geniuses at work.

Their sweat is not in vain. Les Machines de l'ile also boasts the biggest carousel I've ever seen -- three different tiers of fun, a visual fantasy that has moxie, allowing riders to work the levers and pulleys in exchange for more laughs and learning. And that's just for starters.
Mark this stop with a giant red X.
Don't miss it!

The city is prosperous, engaging and easy to navigate.
Much like Paris, the neighborhoods are distinctly different and you'll want to take your time strolling the easy, mostly pedestrianized streets of the city center.

The contrasts are startling.
There's a castle for starters, of course, like any good city of the Loire.
The Castle of the Dukes of Brittany is huge with too many towers to count. Anne of Brittany is the star here as is the polished museum interior that serves as a regional vault of history.

Then there's the medieval Bouffay quarter, its charming cobbled streets lined with
crèperies and bars. A university town, Nantes boasts a huge student population that enjoys hanging out in both stylish and not-so-stylish sidewalk venues all along this quartier.

Much more elegant, the Passage Pommeraye is a 19th century arcade full of posh boutiques. Filled with grecian statues and elegant columns, you'll think you're in the City of Light instead of a small city built on the tears of the slave trade. Place Graslin and Place Royale both compete for elegant splendor. The island of Feydeau is worthy of a good look, too, as are the opportunities to cruise the river in search of magnificent 19th century mansions.

All of these neighborhoods are easily in walking distance of each other but if you
prefer public transportation, the city's trams can't be beat.
As the European Union's Green Capitol (2013), Nantes takes pride in providing excellent transportation services be it tram, cruise-boat or ferry.
Time Magazine once called Nantes the most livable city in France.
I can believe it.

Jules Verne captured the imagination of the world

If you're not yet convinced that Nantes is a mecca for inspired exploration, read a
novel or two by native son Jules Verne. "Around the World in Eighty Days" and
"Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea" will get your mojo going.
Verne conjured up the most daring characters in fiction, virtually
inventing a new genre, now known as science fiction.
Whether submarine or space travel inspires you, Nantes should get some of the credit
for his ambitious adventures.
There is a museum dedicated to his life and works.

I can't "take" you to Nantes without a mention of food and drink.
The distinct Muscadet-Sévre-et-Maine wine of the region is a pleasure, almost a relief, as it's easy to drink and a welcome new taste to lovers of white. That, naturally, brings to mind a large platter of oysters, fresh from the sea, as delicious as any you'll ever taste.

The place to find these pleasures is a carnival for the eyes as well as your tummy.
La Cigale is a head-turner and you'll marvel at its beauty and historically decorative
stage-presence even before you enjoy your first bite of dinner.
This must be where they came up with the expression "paint the town red" because
let me tell you, it's the perfect spot to do just that.
The Belle Epoque styled brasserie has a stunner of a dining room, with tiled walls
and decorated ceilings, bustling servers and happy diners.

I have wonderful memories of a particularly delicious steak tartare prepared tableside and a lovely bottle of champagne and .....yes, we painted the town red that evening....

It's the perfect place for a celebration.

The Jardins des Plantes show off with both traditional and non-traditional floral displays

Now, the bad news.
History has a way of raining on a nearly perfect parade but Nantes has even turned
its ugly past into a reason to be proud of the city.
They have faced up to their dark history, a chronicle of shame that too many countries share.

The Memorial to the Abolition of Slavery stands on the same wharf where
slave ships, loaded with European commodities like fabric and liquor,
set sail for Africa to do business in the slave trade.
The exchanged their wares for African victims turned slaves as well as sugar and coffee.

There was a triangle between Africa, Nantes and the Caribbean and at the time (1685-1817), it was all legal. Nantes became a rich town steeped with merchants and
wealthy traffickers who profited royally from the practice.

The new city of Nantes has faced up to its old crimes against humanity with the quiet memorial. Promoting human rights, the moving tribute displays the Universal Declaration of Human Rights along with the word Freedom expressed in nearly 50 different languages.
It's a moving portrait of a city that cares.

The Chateau of the Dukes of Brittany is both noble and useful.

Anne of Brittany presents a softer side just outside the castle

Youthful energy surrounds you on nearly every corner of the city

Like many French towns, Nantes celebrates life with numerous festivals throughout the year

La Cigale means The Grasshopper and promotes her feminine vision at every turn

I hope you'll add Nantes to your growing list of French cities to visit.
It's well worth the time and effort!

From Nantes, it's easy to travel by train to nearby Angers and Chinon --
but that's a story for another day.

Cheers to Nantes & the Loire Atlantique!

No worries, there are no bad meals at La Cigale, only amusing decoration.

Masted ships line the port for special events in Nantes.

Fresh bounty from the nearby sea awaits you at the Nantes market.

Passage Pommeraye is fit for a queen

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Paris Metro Marvel

8/18/2014

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Whenever I visit Paris, I don't feel like I've totally "arrived" until I find
myself in the alternate universe known as the Paris Metro.
The pulse of Paris can always be found right here.

As much as I adore vast open spaces, green trees and colorful gardens, monumental architecture and world-class art, I have come to appreciate
the underground gold mine of the Paris Metro.

Best known for their gorgeous Art Nouveau entrances and efficient service,
the Metro is sometimes avoided by travelers who equate it with drab, unseemly,
even a bit scrubby -- not what you're looking for in très chic Paris.

Au Contraire!

The Metro is one of the best places to discover the personality of Paris and Parisians.

You could write a book on what you see in the Metro.
From fashion chic to fashion faux pas, the entertainment is endless.
Hair trends, body decoration of all manner and curious faces await you.
And the SHOES!
There's probably no better stage to get your fill of fabulous footwear.
Imelda Marcos would have found solace here.

Then there are the publicity posters. You can find the next big thing in theater tickets, language and business schools, concerts, plumbing or underwear by studying these graphic billboards.
Have you ever seen so many sexy images? Don Draper would approve.

Old Guard conservative right next to scrappy bohemian. Ho ho, what fun!
France unfolds before your eyes. The world, in fact, is here in all its glorious shades,
every nation seemingly represented.

It's also fun to try to figure out what everyone is reading, whether in the form of studious schoolbooks, lurid novels, graphic magazines or smart-phone messaging.
It pays to snoop in the Metro.
Nancy Drew would feel at home here.

But what about those ugly orange Metro chairs. Yuck!
I guess it's good to know one facet of Paris that isn't "just so". I'd love to know what they were thinking....
Where is Philippe Starck when you need him?

Music is everywhere, the exalted heaven-sent kind.
Did you know that the Metro's legal musicians (not the ones that jump from train to train,
hands out hoping for tips) compete in try-outs for an official license to perform?

The RATP organizes auditions for real performers, rewarding those with the best musical chops. They award only 300 permits a year. Playing the Metro is akin to playing to a stadium crowd. With 4.5 million riders a day at over 300 stations, the enhanced acoustics and monetary opportunities offer new musicians something to sing about.
Bluesy American artist Ben Harper was once one of these "unknown" performers.
Not a bad place to jump-start your career.

Plenty of buskers perform, too. Some are talented; others are not -- but it certainly keeps things interesting. Will American programmers one day "discover" the reality tv possibilities
that exist here? Think of the potential -- you'd get singing, dancing, dating, making out, arguing, lecturing, sleeping and eating all in one show. It's America's (France's) Got Talent mixed with Cops and a little Project Runway... oh what a horrible idea....

You can't miss the talent found in the Paris Metro.

Then there are the handy automated machines.
I didn't care for them at first, preferring the old fashioned open window operated by a real person who could never understand my request for "deux carnets s'il vous plait".
Once you get the hang of the automated thingamabobs, you'll find them very helpful.
And it's always fun to offer a helping hand to someone else who is struggling to figure it out.

And for those who don't buy the tickets, preferring to jam themselves through the same turnstile you go through, well, that's another story for "back home."
Sometimes you'll even witness a jackrabbit jumping the revolving turnstile,
enjoying their little act of thievery.

In the movie Amélie, the Paris Metro had a certain irresistible nostalgia to it,
in effect a prettified version of the real thing.
The stations looked almost misty, bathed in an attractive hue.
Remember the gorgeous double staircase featured outside the Lamarck-Caulaincourt station? Just after seeing the movie, I went in search of it and wasn't disappointed.
I didn't find as many diversions as Amélie, but definitely found it
worth the effort and discovered new streets all around.

That's the thing about Paris, often when you look for one thing, you find another.

I'll admit, the real deal is sometimes a pain, too many stairs, too many pickpockets, too many people and too much noise. But there is charm here too, if you look for it.

Sure, there's an elevator at the Abbesses station but then you'd miss the pretty mural and free cardio class.

Empty Metro stations may soon be given new life.
With over 133 miles of track, the opportunity for exciting new venues have creative types buzzing about new ideas to enhance the Paris mystique.

Proposals for subterranean swimming pools and nightclubs are being bandied about in an effort to use old abandoned stations for more noteworthy, très distingué operations.
What fun that would be, just one more reason to cultivate a taste for all things Paris.

So the next time you want to go from, say, the 1st arrondissement to the 12th, take the Metro.
It will put a smile on your face.

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I Want to be Her

8/15/2014

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Isn't she fabulous?

This dear lady caught my attention one day as I was strolling down the
Champs-Elysées. She is the essence of Parisian chic.
Decidedly different and owning the look, she is one of the reasons I can't take my eyes off the locals as I wander the beautiful streets of Paris.

My own look is hardly worth a photo. I don't own a "look" -- and really, my preference is to just blend in like the rest of the flock. But when I see someone looking
as wicked and fabulous as this grande-dame, I realize maybe I need to re-think
the whole fashion thing.
Or at least learn how to rock a chapeau.

Speaking of style, I also wouldn't mind being whoever lives in one of these lovely buildings facing Parc Montsouris.

Or perhaps Parc Monceau.

Or for that matter, Luxembourg or any other primo Parisian park.

Who wouldn't want to wake up every morning to a glorious view of
one of Paris' extravagant jardins?

My mouth waters at the thought.

As uncontested dreamers, aren't we allowed to put ourselves in another
time and place? My Paris-envy is showing but I know in a few minutes I'll go back to just being me again --- and that's all right, too.

DREAM ON!

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A King, a Heart & a Headless Martyr

8/13/2014

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I see dead people.

Before you think I'm quoting old movies again, check this out.

The recumbent effigy of a king.
Not just any king, but my personal favorite, Francois I of France.
These tootsies, and many more like them, can be seen in one of France's most architecturally and historically significant churches, the Basilica of Saint-Denis.

Just minutes from Paris on the Metro (Line 13), the medieval abbey church
is known for both its architectural and historical clout:

- It was the first successful attempt in the annals of cathedral building
to transition from Romanesque to Gothic architecture.
The framework is a marvel of daring design, both lofty and filled with light.

- Perhaps most remarkable, it's the burial address for the majority of
French kings dating from the 10th to the 18th centuries.

Saint-Denis boasts all but three of France's long dynasty of kings.
It's a Who's Who of the royal directory including not just the crowned honchos
but their queens and other persons of nobility as well.

Familiar names such as Dagobert, Clovis, Charles Martel, multiple Henrys,
Charles and Louis dot the landscape. Even the heart of the Dauphin,
the boy who would have been King (son of doomed Louis XVI & Marie Antoinette),
is interred inside one of the crypt walls.

Built on the same site of the tomb of legendary Saint Denis, the headless saint best
known (on the edifice of Notre Dame!) for losing his head in battle and
carrying it up the hill from Montmartre to its current location.
This is one saint who knew how to attract a following.

Even Joan of Arc paid tribute to Saint Denis. In the 15th century, she paused from battle long enough to make the pilgrimage to this cathedral, along with some
160,000 annual visitors today.

The basilica showcases a blue book of French kings, queens and royal personage.
From King Dagobert (who had the inspiration to honor Saint-Denis on this site) to Henri II, Catherine de Medicis, the Sun King Louis XIV, beheaded Louis XVI
and wife Marie Antoinette, it's a lesson in history that's both
reverent and alarmingly entertaining.

The cathedral is a grand tribute, even for those used to the royal treatment.
History and art collide on an awe-inspiring scale.
It's a memory bank of France, all in one spot.

You've seen Saint-Denis as a featured player on the front of Notre Dame

Stained glass, relics, and museum quality artifacts all permeate your senses.
But what really stands out is discovering the messy history of the basilica.

During the anti-royalty nonsense that marked the French Revolution, the historic landmark was ravaged, the rabble dumping all the tombs and bones into a mass grave. Radical gangs had taken over and nothing, not even kings -- not even
a revered bastion of The Church, would stand in the way of mob "justice".

It was years later, in 1805, when Napoleon Bonaparte took the reigns of historical justice and restored the church, hoping to rescue the put-upon royals from their mass mound of dirt. After his reign, his successors uncovered the regal bones and placed them back into more fitting tombs, forever sealing the royal history
and (mostly) restoring their dignity.

Napoleon understood the importance of a sacred national history,
both for France and for the world.

Attire and Accessories Fit for a King are on Display at St. Denis

Gothic is not just about about pointed arches & flying buttresses, it's also about beauty and detail.

Like many monuments that honor famous people, it's the small details that impress. You'll see royal dogs sitting protectively at the feet of their deceased noble families and angels sitting on the shoulders of heaven-bound monarchs.
Lions made of marble keep tabs on their kingly treasure,
a fitting image of immortality.

Death has rarely looked so attractive and it's doubtful even the great minds of Madison Avenue
could promote these crowned heads and their heavenly kingdom so well.

While most visitors probably assume French royalty would be buried in
Père Lachaise or Versailles, the fact remains that you won't find them
anywhere but here in Saint-Denis.

A gritty suburb for sure, but well worth the short metro ride from Paris

A northern suburb of Paris, the township of St. Denis is not known as a nice
place to visit. That's a bit unfair. It's true, there has been trouble in the past
with fiery demonstrations and mischief-making headlines.
But the truth is far less dramatic.

It's a quick and direct walk from the Metro (stop at Basilique St. Denis) to the church.
The only activity in the immediate area is pretty much restricted to tourists coming to the church and shoppers stopping at their favorite market just across the way.
The St. Denis market is a marvel and worth a quick look.

Please add this destination to your list of must-sees. When planning your trip to Paris, a good itinerary should include this terrific storehouse of history and art.
Any true lover of art, architecture and history will find heaven in a visit to the
Basilica of Saint-Denis.

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In the Moment, Paris Style

8/11/2014

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It's really pretty simple. Peace & Tranquility. Thrills & Chills.
I want both in equal measure.

Need my head examined? Maybe.
But here's a thought.
Life is complicated enough ..... and boring enough......if we allow it.
Say no to too much nothing. Say yes to sensation, feeling, doing.
Slow down the craziness but ramp up the adventure.

Sure, it's nice to hang out and eat bonbons.
But better to fly over the rainbow and discover a new world.
France is that place that for me, bringing fireworks & inspiration plus the contrast
of relaxation, letting go, and peaceful meditation --- all in a day's stroll.

I speak of The Paris Effect. That moniker refers to the magic it brings to my life,
all the little things that add volume and depth to my existence.
I look forward to finding that magic year after year.
Paris makes me laugh. Paris makes me cry.
Paris defines me.

A country that offers over 400 different types of cheese is not prudent.
I like that. I can be cautious at home.
There's a reason this enterprising city is the top tourist destination year after year.

Travel can bring dimension to anyone's life.
I know a few timid souls who, for lack of trying, have barely left their own front door.
We all need to be pushed out the door from time to time,
both literally and figuratively.
And when we do finally get the nerve, we soar.

Remember when Dorothy said, "Oh, you're the best friends anybody ever had.
And it's funny, but I feel as if I'd known you all the time. But I couldn't have, could I?" From the movie The Wizard of Oz.

That's how I felt the first time I "met" Paris. I couldn't put my finger on it but there was something familiar along with something completely new. That's the magic. That's The Paris Effect.
And I want some more.

March to your own beat. Strike up the band in your head & your heart.
Try a new taste. Walk down an unknown boulevard. Make a new friend.
Paris has something for everyone.

I don't want all-Versailles-all-the-time.
Variety and contrast are so much more enlightening.
Caviar & champagne on Monday.
Mac & cheese with vin ordinaire on Tuesday.

Uncover your Paris brain.
Get a little whooped-up-crazy-exhilarated-relaxed-peace-of-mind-serenity.

It does exist.

The Paris Effect

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Oradour-sur-Glane

8/9/2014

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In John F. Kennedy's words:
"Mankind must put an end to war before war puts an end to mankind."

The images here are sickening.

French school children and families alike come here to pay their respects.
It's been over a decade since I last walked the sad, dead streets of Oradour-sur-Glane, my eyes open wider than ever before to the horrors of war.

On June 10, 1944, six hundred forty-two men, women, and children were
massacred here. Just days after the Allied landing on the beaches of Normandy,
a furious German SS unit took their frustration out on a sleepy little village
in the heart of France.

The heartless slaughter of an innocent population is forever written in stone and decay. President Charles de Gaulle preserved the horror in its original state,
forever marking the spot of the savagery imposed by the Nazis.

As we walked the streets of Oradour-Sur-Glane, we were struck by the preservation of the most minute details, including a child's tricycle, a sewing machine, farm implements and little reminders of everyday life that typify a country village.

It reminded me of a ruin like Pompeii, except instead of preserving the beauty of a town suddenly buried by volcanic ash, this illustrates the crass ugliness of war.

Silence reigns but not just for reasons of respect.
My throat was bone dry as I experienced an overwhelming sick feeling,
my thoughts grappling with real life death and destruction. Bearing witness to a completely annihilated ghost village is far more wrenching
than anything you've seen on the silver screen .

The villagers were likely looking forward to the end of the long war. After D-Day, all of Europe could see the forest for the trees, confident the nightmare would soon end. Picture it, everyone going about their daily business, not expecting to become
part of the narrative of war atrocities for all time.
Schools, cafés, and shops were full of life.

Out of nowhere, the SS arrived, wanting to make a statement, submitting to their bloodthirsty urges. They brutally rounded up every villager and visitor alike, separating the men from the women and children. The men were led to several outbuildings and shot on the spot, supposedly first shooting the victims in
the leg to incite agony and bring about a slow death. Afterwards, they set the same buildings on fire to cover up their crimes.

The women and children were taken into the church and burned alive.
Burned alive, not in some medieval tale of woe but in a civilized hamlet populated with the kind of people who are your next-door-neighbors.
Only a few people escaped, eventually telling the story of the martyred town.

What is most striking today is the news that one of the former member of this
SS unit has been charged with murder connected to this travesty 70 years
after the fact. In January 2014, an 88-year-old German national was charged in connection with the massacre. He denies his involvement.
Makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up, doesn't it?

In 2013, German President Joachim Gauck and
French President Francois Hollande visited Oradour-sur-Glane.

Gauck was the first German president to step foot into the ruined town.
It's good to remember ghosts of the past and noble to pursue
demons who deserve to be behind bars.
But......
Can we ever bring peace to such a miserable place and time?
The best we can hope for is to REMEMBER the town, its people and the reasons we pray for peace.

John Lennon's words bring hope:
"Imagine all the people living life in peace.
You may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one.
I hope someday you'll join us and the world will be as one."