Out and About in Paris

 Well, I put off writing about my trip to Europe, other than that quick little post “Skaters by the Seine” to work on that thing on critique and criticism. That article did not flow trippingly from my fingers. I’d forgotten how hard it is to write something of that (to me at least) depth after being out of Uni for these 45 years now. 

I was in Paris last November after visiting family in Copenhagen. Idiot that I was, I thought that an anorak and lined vest would be warm enough (heck, 5C? In Calgary that’s t-shirt weather!). I had anticipated rain you see, and my normal chore coat is starting to show the signs of age I felt that this would do nicely. A ratty chore coat, banged up face and a bandaged hand (long story, don’t ask) would hardly do when a) dealing with Customs and Immigration and b) meeting my grandchildren in CPH. I had, luckily, stuffed a pair of gloves into my suitcase so I could still operate without freezing my hands off. One forgets just how much colder things feel with wind and humidity, the latter being seldom experienced in Calgary.

I had a nice hotel on Blvd St-Michel (La Lapin Blanc, if you must know), just around the corner from the Sorbonne. I spent most of my time wandering around the Latin Quarter, Le Marais and a bit of St. Germain. I made it up to Montparnasse, but the day was so cold and dreary that I hid in a cafe until my bones warmed up enough to venture out again. 

This was my first time back to Paris post-COVID and it was back to its usual bustle. Tourists where present, but the bleak weather seemed to keep them around the usual attractions far away from me. I had wanted to have a coffee at Les Deux Magots and have an existentialist moment (or was it dread or crisis?) but alas it was filled to the rafters with Americans loudly proclaiming their existence. It’s odd, when all you know are images of Sartre and Beauvoir in said cafe, somewhat seedy and rundown, then seeing a place that’s completely Disneyfied. I had the same feeling seeing Times Square in NYC for the first time.

But, it’s still Paris and the streets always have something going on.

Brassai, Bresson, Capa, Atget. They all walked the streets of Paris. I was walking home from a delightful dinner and I took a back way; I didn’t want to have the evening end by being thrown into the busyness of Rue Michel. As I turned a corner I thought I saw Brassai in the shadows in his fedora and overcoat. I’m not sure if it was the wine and brandy but from in the shadows I was sure I heard: “Tiens. Une photo. Prend le!” So I did. 

Homage to Brassai

Fun fact: when asked how he timed his night exposures he replied that it was the time it would take a lit cigarette to burn down.

As in any city Parisians do Parisian things: sketching in a cafe, peddling old cameras from a kiosk, sitting alone in that most American of establishments KFC. Interestingly enough, Parisians are confident enough not to have to translate KFC like they do in Quebec.

Sketching

Camera seller

Marrons Chaud (special for tourist in all languages)

Late Night Dinner

Morning Exercise

The gig economy is in full tilt in the land of “Liberté, égalité, fraternité.” Of course the gig economy is operated by those who the French figure are not quite equal enough to be considered brothers. I saw this scene more often than I would like to have.

Exhausted

They live in the banlieue of Paris and spend I don’t know how many hours a day working for Doordash or what ever the Parisian equivalent is. At the end of their shift they hand over the bike to a partner and then head back to sleep and do it all over again the next day.

Of course, close to every tourist attraction there are vendors selling all manner of stuff. Berets for example.

Blueberry Beret 

Like every major city post-COVID rents are up, stores are closing and “A Louer” signs are everywhere. At least the empty store fronts provide a place for concert adverts.

A Louer

That's about it. Some good images, some OK images. Some with a little bit of Quux.