Nov 26
adminParis
Trong picked us up in front of our apartment at 7:30 a.m. for our one day tour to the Champagne Region north east of Paris. We were warned to dress warmly and knew why as we watched the temperature gauge on the mini van dip significantly as we drove out to the country. Apparently, the champagne grapes need a cool temperature and we were a little unprepared for standing in the vineyards at 9 in t he morning in maybe plus 2 degrees centigrade. However, we were more prepared than our tour mates, a mother and daughter from South Carolina, Suzie and Sidney. It was mighty cold there for two Southern Belles but we all survived and learned about pruning the vines from our tour guide Trong.
Trong explains the three types of grapes that go into the making of champagne: pinot nor, pinot meuniere, and chardonnay. Vines are planted on a slope for maximum sun exposure and the chalky soil of this region is ideal for growing conditions. This type of soil retains moisture and makes irrigation unnecessary.
The vineyards stretch for miles in all directions and are are owned by various champagne barons, many of whom are families who have had their business for generations. However, because play station has become so popular with youngsters in France, they are finding it difficult to entice young people to participate in the work involved in keeping the family business going. As a result, migrant workers from the eastern European countries are taking up the pruning jobs and living in the country for 7 months of the year earning 9 euros an hour and then retuning to their families for the remainder of the year with their relative riches.
You will notice how low the vines are pruned. This keeps them close to the warmth of the ground and requires that during the pruning and picking season the workers must bend over to carefully clip the buds or to snip the clusters of ripe grapes. Apparently for the first few days the amount of ibuprofen consumed by workers with aching backs is very high. As we commiserate with the workers who we now see in the fields crouched over pruning the plants, Trong assures us that they are fortified by their flasks through this arduous process.
The windmill in the distance marks the place where executives from the Mumm Champagne dynasty meet for special occasions and conferences. Apparently, Madonna was invited to one event but when she arrived by helicopter, the local population of this small rural village were terribly offended by her insensitivity. She has not been invited since.
We drive sensitively by mini van into the small town of Verzenay forewarned that the townsfolk are extremely suspicious of strangers as this village is in the region where the Germans and French ‘duked it out’ in the first world war. This town as well as many others in the region were badly bombed by the Germans and many burial grounds and memorials to Allied soldiers dot the surrounding countryside.
In spite of our apprehension of perhaps missiles of rotten tomatoes we are graciously greeted by Henriette the daughter of founder Jean-Claude Mouzon. She, along with her husband, are now the owners of this small champagne operation. Henriette relays in French the entire process which is translated by Trong.
Henriette is very proud of their grape crushing machine. It was bought by her father after many years of saving his money This machine operates with a bladder system that inflates and gently crushes the grapes which saves doing it by hand but cost him $200,000.
We enjoys sipping the various blends of Henriette’s finest and we particularly enjoy the Grand Cru Verenay, although the Brut Tradition is lovely as is the Brut Rose. The tasting is a convivial event and at 11 o’clock in the morning, it is a somewhat light headed experience. However, we are soon whisked away to a restaurant in Reims for lunch.
After a typical French midday repast we rolled out of the restaurant and off to the less intimate tour of the Mumm ‘factory’. The next pictures show part of the process of removing the sediment. The bottles are turned (called riddling) on increasing angles for 6 to 8 weeks until the sediment sits in the neck only.
At that point the neck of the bottle is frozen and then the intermediary cap (like a beer cap) is removed and voila, the frozen bit pops out! Of course, the process is now mechanized. This is called disgorging.
The Mumm’s cellars are vast and it seems much like looking down a metro tube. Space is needed, however, as here are stored hundreds of millions of bottles of champagne.
The ancient vintages are locked away for many years. The official taster, however, accesses this cellar once a year to ensure the consistent taste that Mumm’s has developed over many years. It’s a tough job but someone has to do it.
The Mumm’s museum displays a vast array of vintage machines that have been improved on over the years. Here is an old corking machine.
After Mumm’s we were taken for an in-depth tour of the cathedral at Reims.
The Reims Cathedral was awe inspiring. We particularly liked the Chagall stained glass created in 1974. We bought postcards rather than try to get a good picture of that. Here is another modern stained glass in the church.
Finally, before returning to Paris, Trong took us to a library close to the cathedral that is dedicated to the Americans in gratitude for Kennedy’s generous donations in rebuilding the cathedral after the war. We particularly liked the art deco staircase and light fixture.
We arrived back at our apartment at 7:30 in the evening. To find out details about this tour go to their website at: www.parischampagnetour.com
Nov 20
adminParis
Walking into the grounds of the Branly Museum evokes an atmosphere of wildness, from the steel rods that are constructed to resemble the bull rushes they enclose (an effective deer fence we think) to the profusion of plants that would look more at home on Hornby than here in Paris.
A huge wall of glass encloses more wild thickets and creates a reflective silence broken only by the songbirds that enjoy this urban respite.
The building that houses this extraordinary exhibit of Indigenous art was designed by architect Jean Nouvel. He has raised it above ground on pillars to free up more space for gardens.
Designer Patric Blanc is responsible for the exquisite Vegetative Wall that covers one exterior wall of the six stories building. He has created an transition from the elegant and traditional limestone Hausmannian buildings in the neighborhood (see my previous blog on the 7th arr.) to Nouvel’s organic free form, steel, and glass construction. We attempted photos at dusk on a mid- November evening but we would love to see this cascading greenery of flowers and mosses in its summer brilliance.
Entering the museum you are transported along a ramp way on which a river of global and timeless words are projected like sparkling drops of light and which in places disappear off the edge of the inclined plane. One feels somewhat dizzy waking through this ever changing river, a feeling that is accentuated by the purposeful uneven path.
Next one crosses the dusky, narrow passageway that is dark like a birth canal. Everything is designed to transport you to another universe. The world of far away continents.
From Oceania to Asia then from Africa to America the collection features nearly 3500 pieces. There are no walls only glass display cases that seem to be scattered in a forest of filtered light.
One is guided through the exhibit along undulating walls about 7 to 10 feet high, of various thicknesses, carved and sculpted from concrete and covered in natural toffee colored leather.
The subdued natural light throughout the gallery created a feeling of intimacy as did the labyrinth of glass display cases of different levels and shapes that opened out to a gathering spot or resting place built into the leather walls.
The extensive exhibits defy description and of course cameras were discouraged. Someone who we will not name did manage to snap a few photos but if you are interested in the collection and can’t get to Paris, Glen and I have a book at home that captures some images sent to us from a woman we met in Paris in 2006 since we were disappointed not to have seen the exhibit.
Suffice to say we were suitably overwhelmed as we exited into the dusk. We strolled by the blue and purple light show the fiber optics cast which created a weird glow on the underbelly of the building, yacking as we went. We were particularly excited about the Asian exhibit, the clothing and how the women developed their own styling, the intricate bamboo baskets and fishing implements, the early guns inlaid with precious and semi precious stones, the palanquin fit for a camel and on and on…..
Nov 16
adminParis
Sunday morning is an opportune time to shop at the many weekend produce markets in Paris and we were most interested in the Marche d’Aligne. So we set off along the Seine, back towards the Bastille area, and then, voila, the Canal St. Martin.
Before motorized vehicles the Canals were used to transport goods to the city and throughout France. Horses plodded along the quai’s pulling the barges through the canals and locks. Nowadays, it appears that many Parisians make their homes in the boats moored in the canal.
This area of Paris used to be one of light industry but has recently become more residential with many new recreational facilities such as walking and cycling paths, and playgrounds and restaurants.
For a short period this November, a huge Antique faire was housed under the white tents that you see in the background along the canal. There was a profusion of antique furniture, dishes, jewelry, linens, Persian carpets, books, posters, paintings, etc. As we strolled by, the vendors were having lunch delivered on trays from neighboring restaurants. In typical French fashion, they had tables and chairs set up with tablecloths and of course they were sipping wine from elegant stemware. Would love to have taken photos but did not want to be invasive of their privacy.
We had to tear ourselves away from the antique market to get to the Marche d’Aligre before it was closed. We arrived to streets of stalls laden with beautiful vegetables and fruits and vendors shouting out their deals and competing for shoppers. The streets were teaming with Parisians stocking up on this weekend market.
Katherine searches for a ‘sou’ wanting to buy a few pears. However, it seems like they only sell by the kilo, but since just about everything is about a euro a kilo, it didn’t seem to matter.
Although shopping on streets like rue Cler, which we visited in our last post, is very pleasant and utterly Parisian, Marche d’Aligre is where the real bargains are to be had, especially in the weekly street portion of the market. Generally, we found that food is much less expensive in Paris than in Canada. A block of cheese at the monoprix is a couple of euros, and a rather decent bottle of wine can be bought for under three euros.
Sunday is traditionally a day for the French to dress up (even more than usual) and to visit their families and enjoy a huge feast together. This would be a ideal place to pick up a bouquet of flowers to grace the table.
Now I must warn you that the next five photos are not for the delicate or the dedicated vegetarian but if you ever wondered what happened to Bambi’s dad, we think we know.
A colorful display of pheasant, quail, partridge, and pigeons are some of the game birds available in the indoor portion of the market which is available every day of the week. You may even be lucky enough to find a pig roasting on a spit.
This poor rabbit is laid out in a most compromising position with its innards displayed, in case you should fancy making a pate.
The seafood vendors had a very fresh selection of seafood on display but I think they may not have appreciated our photo taking.
Laden with fresh figs, potatoes, carrots, cheeses, and meat, we head toward our little apartment promising ourselves to return next Sunday.
On the way home we just had to go via the Viaduc des Artes which was a former railroad line. In 1994 the restored and revamped Viaduc des Artes opened with 50 stores and studios nestled in the bridge’s rose stone archways. In keeping with tradition, the ateliers are all linked to the arts and some of the city’s master craftsmen have set up shop here. You will find such shops as those providing silk flowers for top fashion houses, restorers of paintings and period glass, as well as ‘hot’ interior designers.
The next photo shows a table made of sharkskin that we found particularly interesting.
We continued our walk on the Promendade Plantee which stretches along the top of the Viaduc d’Aligre for about 3 miles or 4.5 km., a lovely rooftop stroll.
Nov 15
adminParis
Emerging from the metro at L’Esplanade des Invalides on a sunny midday in early November we were a little startled to hear commotion farther down the street. With news from home still ringing in our ears about the Paris strikes, we decided to cut through the eslplanade and take refuge in a little park. Alas, however, it was only a horse parade as this was, of course, the military district.
Kath worked as an ‘au pair’ and lived in the attic room seven flights up a winding spiral staircase. Her charge was a charming little boy with black curly hair. He was delighted to have a young nanny and took great pleasure in watching her cavort around the room pretending to be a clown. Before our trip Kath ‘googled’ young Francois and discovered he is now a world famous economist and he is of course, middle aged and has lost all his cute curls.
From her palatial attic room of 6 feet x 9 feet in this lovely apartment on rue Edmond Valentin, Kath could open la fenetre and if she stretched out far enough she could see the Eiffel Tower. Traditionally, the way French apartments were laid out was that the bottom floor was where the concierge lived. The wealthiest people, then, lived on the next few floors, and as you climbed the stairs you descended in social order until you reached the attic where the maids and art school students lived.
After a walk down memory lane, I lamented that I was desperate for a haircut. Katherine had just the ticket. She marched me off to the very shop where Francois’s mother had her hair cut every Wednesday afternoon. After Francois had been indulged in a piece of chocolate and some bread, Kath would drop him off to his coiffed mom and be on her own merry way. I must admit I was a bit apprehensive but was assured by my traveling companion that it was almost impossible to get a bad haircut in Paris.
After an unremarkable lunch at Café Constant, we enjoyed a stroll along rue Cler. Apparently, it has changed little in thirty years (unlike Francoise).
On our way back home we enjoyed the many Haussmann style apartments that graced the boulevards.
Here is an example of a particularly beautiful Art Nouveaux building
Nov 09
adminParis
From our charming and cozy apartment in Place Dauphine we take great pleasure in merely sitting and looking out our floor to ceiling windows onto the triangular ‘square’ below. Protected from the noise of the city on all three sides by banks of buildings it is hard to believe we are practically in the centre of Paris. Being women of the island (Hornby, that is) we feel perfectly engulfed nestled in this quaint spot in the middle of the Seine.
The quiet of early morning stretches into the workday with sounds like the staccato tlock tlcock tlocking of high heels on the cobblestones below our windows. The odd delivery van drives into this otherwise pedestrian area to drop off supplies to the selection of restaurants below.
Throughout the day we can watch the ever changing scene of people as they come and go. A well dressed gentleman regularly walks his little chowchow. A stylish young woman paces as she talks on her cell phone. Sometimes a group of students will alight on the benches all eagerly sketching in unison. Or an older group of tourists will pause on their way through their checklist of Paris sights. Mostly it is just the odd person or few wandering through, a young boy and his father passing the soccer ball back and forth, or a late night gathering of boules players laughing under the street lanterns. It is so warm here our windows are thrown wide open onto the lovely unseasonably temperate November.
The camel colored earth or terre battue stretches throughout ‘la place’ creating a monochromatic palette that is reflected in the stone of the buildings and accented with a slightly warmer shade in the leaves of the chestnut trees that grace the square. Such a peaceful and beautiful sight this is to depart from and arrive to on our month long sojourn here in the city of light.
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