Slip Into Azur Blue: A Rainy Day In Paris

Sound’s almost oxymoronic, doesn’t it?

The return.
Leaving a life I love for the life I live.
The rain..... seems somehow apropos to my mood at the moment.
Enough!
This is, after all, seductive Paris. She who draws me back again and again.
But... the rain... the mood. Sometimes you just have to make your own sunshine.

Yes, I’ve been here many times. Done all the cliches, the Louvre, Notre Dame, The Orsay, The Eiffel, The Champs, Montmartre, the Latin Quarter. I’ve done them all. Will do them again.
But here, on this rainy day, in Paris, what to do? I need light, levity, mindless distraction.
I love movies with Paris as the star. I love, no I’m obsessed with the movie, Ronin. Couldn’t tell you how many times we’ve seen it. And the movies Before Sunrise & Before Sunset , we both could watch them at any time.
And Montmartre. The fabric district. Well Sandy can lose herself (quite literally) in it’s twisting winding warrens. Or, a sidewalk café in the Latin Quarter
And... I’m gettin’ a glimpse of the sunshine.

I’ve always yearned to track-down some of these icons of “our” pop culture , but always... hey ... this is Paris. Something bigger, better, faster always comes up.
This time. This time I’ll just indulge myself.
It’s a far jaunt from the seventh where we’re staying to the 18th and the environs of Montmartre. Rain and subways. As they say with food and wine, what a perfect pairing. Subways, or the Metro as it is known, make Paris manageable, almost intimate, almost.
Pop-up and out of the Art-Deco Abbesses Metro entrance near the funicular, and.... grey skies.... but no rain!
Now, I remind you that in Montmartre you will find Paris’s fabric district. Literally hundreds of shops, little and large, with fabrics and notions. Street after street winding around the base of Montmartre with the Sacre Cour atop.
Now, Sandy like’s, but maybe doesn’t share my obsession for Ronin and “scouting” the Ronin sites. Bear in mind, this is not the first time. I have also done this in old Niceville, Arles and Le Turbie.
The fabric quarter, however, now there’s an obsession for her.
Standing in front of the Sacre Cour funicular, we decide to split-up for an hour and meet back here.
Right! I’m excited..... off to find the bar, the steps. You know. The opening scene, Sam (Robert DeNiro) walks down the “endless” steps (rue Drevet) and peers into the shabby old bar. Now, I have to confess. Last year I might have tried to do this and failed. This year, however, I come armed with the resources of http://www.imdb.com/ and www.movie-locations.com , so, voila! Should be a cinch.
Or..... I’m usually quite good with directions and maps... but... damn, am I ever confused. Montmartre seems to do this to me. Well, yeah it is a twisting turning maze, with Sacre Cour standing above it all, and... I have a map... but, I’m floundering. I’m sure I was quite a sight. Frantically circum-navigating Sacre Cour, looking for the elusive rue des Trois Freres and a make believe bar.
Asking in my best/worst French for directions, no-one seemed to know.
And........ There it was! The steps! The “bar”! Well the building at least.
Actually, there’s no bar, it was all staged for the movie. Now, it’s just a derelict old building, looking as if at any moment it might just fall down.
My heart pounding. Excitement or the circum-navigation?
Time? What time is it? Glasses... look at cellphone. 20 minutes! Wow, seemed like much more time had passed. I’m tired. I’m thirsty. Oh... and I better scope-out our lunch spot, don’t want more circum-navigation with Sandy in tow. Happened across this little place last year, during the previous failed search. It was perfect! Okay, no more floundering. Facing steps to church, go down stairs to my left on the corner of the plaza, and..... voila! There it is. L’Ete en Pente Douce, and just as inviting as I had remembered it.
Now, if I also remember correctly... yep, down some more stairs (always with the stairs around here) to the right of the bistro and .... yes... yes it is! Last year I came across this little neighborhood bar, it too could be from the opening scene of Ronin. But here. Here is the “real McCoy”. A vintage Montmartre bar now called, I do not make this up, “NO PROBLEMO”. I don’t remember that name from last year, but anyway, you enter through an old-timey glass storefront, and... you enter into a place of the past. The patina of nicotine surrounds. A burly oaken bar all along your right, zinc top of course, with the requisite brass beer taps looking something like a fire plug. A mirror behind the bar with an amazing “library” of booze on display. To describe this experience as a time-warp would fall far short.
Behind the bar, bonjour madame, bonjour monseiur. She would no doubt be called Flo, back in the States that is.
Stools lined the bar, little tables, eight maybe ten littered the room. Chalkboards at every turn. Plat de jour, red wine menu, white wine menu, specialties of the house. And... the floor, the patina of 100 years of use.
Myself an actor here, I play my role. Biere sil-vous-plait. Flo with upturned glass, presses it down on the wash device (I’ve never seen these outside of France). Glass freshly sanitized and filled with a cold Heineken. Yeah, no kidding. It was the house beer. Merci madame, pay and leave a small tip for Flo.
Last year... almost to the day... same time, same place... somewhat... well it’s hard to explain. I mean, I’m not a bar person, but... here I was, and it was somehow comforting. I know that makes no sense, but...
I sipped my beer, I looked about me, trying to take it all in. This too I remember from last time.
Flo smiles, I smile back. People, normal people pass by the storefront. This could be any time....
Time! Uh-Oh... Sandy.
Last sip... merci-avior madame.
Let’s see... I think this way, left. Two blocks and ... to my right, the funicular. Well then. That was too easy.
Couple of free minutes, I’ll snap a picture or two. The steps I think, not that I fancy myself Brassai or anything.

There she is, several bags on her arm.
I relay my seemingly endless hours experience, sans perhaps, the getting lost part... wouldn’t do.
It’s about 12 noon, but neither of us are in a hurry for lunch. And I do know where it is... right?
Suggest a pression with my budds at the “NOPROBLEMO”. Sure why not.
I think she just about got the Ronin connection.
Definitely got the time-warp Montmartre connection.
But I still think the “NO PROBLEMO” caught her a little off guard.
I mean we walked through the door and straight ahead, a table of local, really local ladies, sitting and talking with Flo, one openly breast-feeding her “lil-one”.
Bonjour, bonjour, nod, nod. Flo now recognizing me, already as a regular.
Deux pressions, sil-vous-plait.
I watched Sandy. I sensed her attempting to process it all. No, not alarmed... but I mean it’s not often we “time travel”, and well, it takes a bit of gettin’ used to. I think she saw many, yes many of the same things I saw. And... more no doubt!
This could not have come from any movie set. And... the beer, it was cold and it was wonderful.
Now, sadly, I have no photos of the interior to support my mental imagery. Seemed , you know, somehow disrespectful, voyeuristic in a way.
But I can see, smell and feel it a clearly now as if I were there.

So, can you find the little bistro?
Yeah... I can. It’s just up these stairs and voila! There it was. L’Ete en Pente Douce. Just as we remembered it. Warm, cozy, perfect for the moment. Home cooking. Menu of the day. Perfect!
Normally, I, the foodie, could tell you in minute detail about the meal. I can only blame some form of bizarre euphoria for my sparse memory. I remember a French version of Shepherd’s Pie for me, Lamb shanks for Sandy and a carafe of hearty red from somewhere in the Dordogne, I believe.
I can tell you this much. It was perfect! Both of us blissful. A ray of sun peaking through the clouds. Well... metaphorically speaking that is.

Now, my “reason d’etre” (reason for being here). The stairs, the bar, well sort of. As I said it was a crumbling wreck, no bar at all.
Triumphantly I walked directly to the location of the bar, no floundering this time.
Definitely That’s it!
We both agree, but again it's a bit disappointing.
And now, for a few pictures. Some damn fool’s parked a tradesman’s van out front, no bother. It is what it is. Pictures of your’s truly on the stairs, coming down a-la DeNiro, going up a-la Jean Reno.
Sweet!
Interestingly enough, no pictures of Sandy, going up or down the stairs. As I said, my obsession.

Well then.... now what? Deferring now more to another of my girl’s milder obsessions, perhaps an homage to Before Sunset the movie with Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy. I’ve always wanted to visit the Promenade Plantee, a linear park built on an abandoned elevated rail line. It’s sorta similar to the rails to trails back in the States. It is beautifully landscaped and offers wonderful views of that area of Paris. And... it figures prominently in Before Sunset.
So... another easy metro journey and, voila! There we were!
And... it’s misting. My misting Sandy calls rain. But, no bother, I’m here so let’s do it!
It really was lovely, “mist” and all. And we weren’t the only “mist” ignoring walkers on the Plantee. It’s quite popular. Pictures snapped. I really don’t know why. There’s just something cool about it, you know, “hey, I’ve seen that in the movie”, or I know where that’s at!
Weird, I know, but fun all the same.
I don’t mind saying, by the time we were nearing the end, I was beginning to tire, what with all that frantic floundering around Montmartre this morning. What we both wanted about now was a little sidewalk café in the Latin Quarter, near the Seine, preferably, no “mist”. Yeah, that’d be great. But... it’s still misting and were still on the Plantee, and, I’m not exactly sure of the closest Metro stop. And... it’s maybe, misting harder now.

Well, with minor difficulty, stop located and in minutes, voila! We were there!
Just pop up and out of the Metro at St Michel, and... it’s misting really really hard now. Matter of fact I may say it’s raining.
So... looking around me... ah, Café Saint-Severin, that look’s good! If not a bit crowded, not a unique idea, I think. Wiggle into impossibly crowded little tables and chairs, under an awning of course.
Yes... this will do nicely.
Oui monsieur, deux pressions, sil-vous-plait. Grande!
And so was the next hour, hour and a half.
Paris, a sidewalk café. People all around. Sip a cold beer or two?
And... a ray of sunshine peaking through the clouds. Metaphorically speaking.

Actually, the rain/mist... well by this time it had tapered-off to nothing really, and, feeling a bit refurbished by the beer(s), I had one last indulgence before returning to the seventh.
Shakespeare and Company http://www.shakespeareandcompany.com/ venerable old English language bookstore, a Paris icon, and another setting for the movie Before Sunset. I am ashamed to admit that, me, a “bookworm” has not been to Shakespeare and Company. Two blocks away on rue de la Bucherie. And, another perfect antidote to a dreary, rainy day in Paris. I will not dwell on the details, I’ll let the pictures speak for themselves and if you’re interested check out their website and, maybe read the book Time Was Soft There, Jeremy Mercer, it’s a great read about this unbelievable old place. I mean just look at it, you could get lost in it’s many rooms. People do, I imagine.

Back to Metro stop St Michel and on to Ecole Militaire stop. Home in Paris, on the rue Cler.
It’s about dinner time by now. Where did the day go, this morning seemed as though it would be so long, and yet where did it go?
Looking forward to what I know will be an outstanding dinner, Le Bistro du 7eme does not disappoint.
And it did not.

A fine day it was.
Sometimes you just have to make your own sunshine.