Sunday, April 1, 2012

A Tour of Paris: Notre Premier Jour (Our first day)

Dear Reader,

Already there is so much to say and it is only my second morning in Paris; the fact that I have 10 weeks here astounds me and makes me so grateful!

This particular post concerns the first day in Paris, and has very specific information about the different places I wandered, so that a reader might follow along on a map if they so choose and travel a bit from their chair. If you prefer my musings to a walking guide, skipping to the next post might keep you a bit more interested, but read on for a tour ;) I've also included a few links at the bottom to maps/restaurants/etc that are mentioned.

One of my best friends (Katie) and I got off the plane together in Zurich airport on Friday, March 30th, hurried through a very brief connection, and found ourselves landing at Paris' Charles De Gaulle airport at about 2pm that day. One look at the bags on the bag claim belt made us consider taking a taxi, and heaving them off of it made us sure (we'll have time to explore the metro and RER later). After a ~20 minute cab ride into the city, we arrived at our lodging for the night: Hotel Montpensier. On Rue de Richelieu not a block off of the Louvre and Le Jardin du Palais Royal (Royal Palace Garden), there could not be a better location for a first night in Paris, nor a cheaper one in the area. After checking in, dropping bags, and getting oriented, we set out to do a little exploring, as it was one of the most beautiful days of the week thus far, with perfectly clear blue skies.

A walk down rue de richelieu led us under an arch and directly out into the courtyard of the Louvre, with the glass pyramid almost directly in front of us. Walking into the square and looking in either direction yielded a view tantamount to a Parisian postcard, with the Palais Royal on one side and the Arc de Triomphe visible in the distance on the other side, past the Tuileries and the Champs Elysées. From this point, we walked midway into the Tuileries and then crossed a little footbridge over the Seine called Solferino. Adorning the rails of the bridge were thousands of little locks with two names apiece on them; the idea is to write the name of oneself and one's lover onto a lock, lock it onto the bridge, and throw the key into the Seine so as to preserve the love for eternity.

From there, we turned and walked past the Musee d'Orsay, crossed back over the river on the Pont du Carrousel, and continued on the road along the Seine until we crossed the Pont Au Change and arrived on the Ile de la Cité. Arriving at the Place du Parvis Notre Dame, we stared up at Our Lady, and its stained glass windows captivated me just as they had the first time that I saw them so many years ago. Crossing back over the Pont d'Arcole, we walked back towards the Louvre and our hotel on the Rue de Rivoli, passing great amounts marvelous old architecture as we walked (please forgive the tangents about architecture that will arise throughout this blog; I have a particular penchant for it). After passing once again through the courtyard of the Louvre as the sun was slowly setting and shooting beams of light onto the pyramid (very cool but too glare-y a time of day to get any worthwhile photographs), we wandered back to our hotel and relaxed a bit before dinner.

Dinner was had at the Bistrot Victoire on Rue la Vrillière, very close to the Place des Victoires. It was very good and quite reasonably priced, and I did not see anyone in the place besides Parisians: a very good sign. Once figuring out how to use the lights in the room (key has to be inserted into a slot on the wall), we watched a bit of French news and called it an early night.

The next morning we walked to Le Pain Quotidienne (an excellent breakfast place/boulangerie, somewhat similar to King Arthur Flour or Acme Bread or La Boulange), and I ordered un pain chocolat (chocolate croissant) et un jus de framboise (strawberry juice, with a bit of lemon) to go. We walked over to le Jardin du Palais Royal (the royal palace garden) and sat in front of the fountain while we ate. Another look at the bags once we made it back to the hotel (and the experience of sending them up and down the little tiny lift, with one of us loading them one by one at the 5th floor and sending them down to the other waiting in the lobby) and it was clear that a taxi to our host families' apartments was the obvious choice over the metro. And so I descended at 18 Boulevard Voltaire and looked back and forth at the wide sidewalks and up at the beautiful apartment building that would be my home for the next 3 months...






Monday, March 26, 2012

Au Lecteur (To The Reader)

It seemed only fitting to commence blogging about a study abroad in Paris with a post entitled Au Lecteur, which is intended neither as plagiarism nor ignorance, but rather a tribute to Baudelaire and his opening poem of Les Fleurs du Mal. Having studied French culture and French literature for a term apiece at Dartmouth, and French as a subject for seven years before that, French, as a grammatical pursuit, a set of cultural norms, and a literary genre, has the feeling of an old familiar friend, a little worn around the edges and ready for adventure. This adventure of sorts commences tomorrow night when I set off on a red eye from San Francisco (weather gods permitting) bound for Boston, where I'll take a bus to Dartmouth, spend ~27 hours in the company of some of my favorite people in the world, and then depart again at 2145 (suppose I ought to switch to 24 hour time) on a flight bound for Zurich, then Paris.

I confess that I have never been a journal writer - never been the type to ritualistically sit down and detail my day, or feelings, or those thoughts and dreams that come to us in the dark of night when there is no distraction, no escape. A journal is a soul laid bare and defenseless, a hidden treasure for all the world to see. My journals have always been poems and my treasures have always been photographs, and between the two I have never been wont for expression. And yet I feel a stirring to share my time abroad with more than my camera and my pen and my paper, perhaps if only to leave a record somewhere of what transpires, and perhaps to nuture a growing passion for journalistic expression. So I write this first post entitled Au Lecteur, because I'm hoping that perhaps you might like to read it and I write this blog Flânerie à Paris (Wanderings in Paris) because I will be wandering, away from two homes, and I'd like something of me to wander back and say hello, on occasion.

Home in Parisian form will be not 500 yards from La Place de la République, on the border of the 3rd and 11th arrondissements (Right Bank of the Seine). Home will be a little school where I'll take 3 classes in the 6th arrondissement, home will be the museums I visit for my art history course, the cafes I sit in for lunch, the little streets I get lost on only to open my eyes in wonder at what is around me. With no delusions of romantic grandeur or poetic greatness or stereotypical quaintness, but every hope for an experience with all three woven into it, je pars, mon lecteur. Bienvenue à ma flânerie à Paris.*

* I leave, my reader. Welcome to my wanderings in Paris.

~Maggie