Sushi Anyone?

A large Asian community lived in my Marais neighborhood. They obviously owned and worked at the stores selling purses, beads, scarves, knick knacks, clothes, souvenirs, etc that covered blocks and blocks around my apartment. En gros signs were posted on door after door as you walked down the street past these shops; in other words, don't bother entering if you're not a wholesaler.
There were at least four sushi shops within several blocks of my front door. I don’t know if there’s any relationship between those two facts. (God forbid I be politically incorrect!) I walked by one or more of these shops every day; two of them had a fleet of these cute little delivery motorbikes. The drivers (almost always Asian), with their copies of the plan de Paris (maps), hung around chatting on the sidewalk, smoking their cigarettes, and waiting for the next delivery. Sometimes when they grabbed a delivery bag, they flipped through their map to find the location before hopping on the bike and flying down the street. At least one restaurant had a couple of tables but the others appeared to be delivery restaurants only. My son-in-law can eat his weight in sushi so I always thought of Doug when I noticed the activity around the sushi shops.

Here She is Again, Mademoiselle Tour Eiffel

You really can’t see her too many times. I just learned from one of the many blogs I read that photographing the Eiffel Tower at night for commercial use or publication is forbidden because the lighting is copyrighted. There’s no problem using the image taken during daylight. Tres interessant.
By the way, the Eiffel Tower is the site of a big celebration every Bastille Day (July 14, their "4th of July," shall we say). Supposedly, they use three tons of powder to set off over 6,500 fireworks; and thousands of people have picnics all day on the parc du Champ de Mars in front of the Eiffel--very much like our 4th of July holiday.

Medieval Paris and More of the Latin Quarter

The area that begins across from Notre-Dame and around and behind the Shakespeare and Company Bookstore (2/26/07 blog) is the site of so much history; and this trip gave me more time to explore and read about the many stories.

The door was always locked at Saint-Julien le Pauvre every time I walked by, unfortunately, so I was never able to tour the inside. This small church which sits next to square Viviani (now belonging to a Greek Catholic sect) was built at the end of the 12th century and has preserved its originality in spite of the alterations imposed by the passing years. The sides of the building that are accessible show remains of the old foundation from the time of the Norman assaults plus an old well next to big slabs of stone left over from an old Roman road leading to Spain. Some of the medieval stones in the yard are also from the restorations of Notre-Dame. Sitting on the Seine side of the church is the oldest tree planted in Paris (1602). This acacia tree, nicknamed Robinier, is named after the guy who planted it—Jean Robin. It is listing, as you can see in the picture, but is propped up with a couple of concrete pillars where the trunk has split. Parisians insist it is still living but it is covered with ivy, so it may be wishful thinking…but I think it's alive...

There are several stories about the name of the church but the most interesting one is that it was named after a bishop who gave away all his money. According to legend, on the night of Julien’s birth, his father saw pagan witches secretly jinx his son into killing both of his parents. Therefore, his father wanted to get rid of the child but his mother would not agree. When Julien found out at age 10 why his mom regularly cried because of the sin he was destined to commit, he swore he would never do such a sin and left home.

Twenty years later, his parents decided to search for their son and after praying in a church in the midst of their travels, they met a woman sitting outside the church. She offered them shelter and rest from their travels; and in the course of their conversations, they realized they were related by marriage. In the meantime, an enemy told Julien that his wife had a lover so he returned home early from his hunting trip. Unbeknownst to him, his wife invited his parents to sleep in her husband’s and her bedroom, the most beautiful in the home. When Julien thought he had discovered his wife and her lover, in a fit of rage, he killed the couple found in his bed.

When Julien realized that he had killed his own parents, thus proving true the witches' jinx, he was obviously distraught and thereafter took a vow of poverty (pauvre means “poor”). He and his wife built seven hospitals and 25 houses as well as a hospice on the banks of a river where they provided shelter and ferry service for pilgrims and other poor travelers. One evening during a terrible storm, a man asked Julien to accommodate his trip across the river. After some hesitation, he agreed and in the middle of the river, the foreigner (disguised as a leper) revealed his identity. As the legend claims, the man was Christ who forgave Julien his sins. He thereafter became the patron saint of travelers and ferrymen and also, of hunters. A 14th century bas-relief, depicting this scene can still be seen on the wall of a building on rue Galande. (Believe me, this was the short version of the legend…)

I love the blood red door on the other side of the church—which is actually an entry to the backside of a building facing rue Galande. This door belongs to the Caveau des Oubliettes (cellar or vault of cells), an underground jazz club in which the owners claim was once a prison. The current entrance is now around the corner on rue Galande. Oubliettes were cells where prisoners were put in solitary confinement (the word comes from the French word ‘to forget’). Even though there’s supposedly a guillotine in the establishment, some research indicates that the cells were for monks, not for prisoners.

Paris Churches - Part VIII - Saint-Nicolas des Champs

Boy, I saw a lot of churches! Saint-Nicolas des Champs was constructed in 1420 and significantly enlarged in 1541; another building project in 1615 took it to its present form today. Flamboyant in style with a Renaissance entrance, a 19th century restoration added many works by contemporary artists. Parts of the nave still date from the original construction.

The beautiful interior is remarkably light (twenty-five large windows) compared to its rough exterior, which has had a long life, and the surrounding neighborhood (although the neighborhood is on it’s way back).

Among the beautiful 17th century artwork is the only large Parisian altarpiece that has remained in its original place in spite of the Revolution and its turbulence.

Roman numerals on the pillars--do these depict each century since Christ? I couldn't find any reference about these markings.

Louis XIV

This sculpture of the famous Sun King, sitting in the courtyard of the Carnavelet Museum since 1890, is one of the rare royal statues that went through the French Revolution (1789) without damage. As mentioned before (1/3/07 blog), the museum tells the story of French history and is housed in a beautiful 16th century grand private residence (hotel).

The artist, Antoine Coysevox, sculpted this in 1689. He also created some of the statues on the Versailles façade and the magnificent Fame and Mercury horses for the Marly hunting lodge (the originals are in the Louvre; copies stand at the place de la Concorde). (Refer to 3/17/07 blog.) Coysevox also did a bust of Jacques Gabriel, one of Louis XIV’s architects after he’d been dead for 25 years. That artwork sits in the Musee Jacquemart-Andre (2/28/07 blog).

It seems silly but it was a custom—Louis wore Roman attire and then crowned it with his curly French wig. This is even more interesting because French history consistently describes banishment of the Romans from ancient Paris! Oh, the French…

Faire du Leche-Vitrines

Window shopping to us; “window licking” to the French. Oui, c’est vrai! And you can spend every day of your vacation doing nothing but this. Here are photos of some interesting shop window displays. This butcher on the Ile Saint-Louis is very proud, as he should be, of all the grand prize awards he’s won for his cuts of meat. Lots of shoes.....red (I think I took this around Valentine's Day). Yummm, look at these treats!

And this was taken on the ritzy Place Vendome.

Paris Passages - Part II

The Passage Vendome, built in 1827, was close to my apartment—I accidentally discovered it one day while taking a new way to the Republique Metro. (It was weeks before I figured out I could cut through this little alleyway and get to the Metro much faster!) When built, it made it possible to connect the Temple (more about this below) and a convent created in 1704 for repented girls. It currently contains a shoe-repair and key maker, a language school, a restaurant, an internet café, and doesn’t look like it’s been renovated. It's pretty shabby, actually. (Clefs Tampons, by the way, means "key pads").

The Temple, which today is just a square (a couple blocks from my apartment), was where an ancient fortress was built starting in 1240 by the Knights Templar during Saint Louis’ reign. It later became a prison and was notorious for being the French royal family’s jail at the time of the Revolution. Among others, King Louis XVI was taken from here to be guillotined; Marie Antoinette was taken from here to the Conciergerie (see 2/27/07 blog) from where she was also eventually taken to the guillotine.As Napoleon ordered, the fortress was destroyed around 1860 because it had become a place of pilgrimage for royalists. But the heavy doors of the medieval tower still exist and are kept at the Chateau de Vincennes outside of Paris. The Temple Metro station, which sits in a square near where the old Temple stood, was also close to my apartment.