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.

"Sam" wearily walks down to the bar 



"Vincent"  "no questions, no answers"



The  "Bar"

Abbesses Metro Stop



Channeling Brassai



Walking the Promenade Plantee

The bar NO PROBLEMO
http://www.yelp.fr/biz/no-problemo-paris

L'Ete en Pente Douce
http://www.yelp.com/biz/l-et%C3%A9-en-pente-douce-paris-2





Cafe Saint-Severin at the St Michel Stop
A bit less crowded when this picture was taken.



Typical room inside Shakespeare and Company
Vintage!



Shakespeare and Company
I look as though I'm standing guard. What's up with that?

Always above it all, Sacre Cour









Why Nice?

Nice, self appointed queen of the Riviera, a belle epoch beauty, part late 19th century Brit and part 20th century resort.
But Why? Why does it draw Sandy and I back time and time again? What's so special about Nice? After all, when we first arrived in Nice back in '98 as a part of one of those whirlwind tours of France we were known to do back then, we both looked at each other and said it's ok but what's the big deal?
Then came a second visit, a second chance for Nice as it were, and we hit upon "old town", yes old town. Vieux Nice with it's warren of narrow sometimes dark streets and alleyways almost at times a little threatening, pulsing with life. Sandy describes the experience as almost dizzying. I have to agree. A mixture of the flavors of France, Italy and the Near East, all co-mingled into one intoxicating brew of an old town.
We had not even been inside the old town our first time. Can you imagine! Nice as a whole is a perfectly likable large Riviera resort city, but old town- oh yeaaah!
If you don't go anywhere else in the old town, find the Cours Saleya and it's Marche aux Fleurs (flower market). Open daily, the flower market is a riotous feast for the eyes. All the best flowers from the French/Italian production hidden up in the hills of this glorious coast all the way down into Italy.
Early every day the vendors descend upon The "Cours" and erect their booths. Their myriad of flowers is absolutely unbelivable. And yes, the Niceoise, as they have done for decades, buy these flowers. And let me tell you, it's a lotta flowers! I can only imagine that the interiors of Nice's homes must be the best dressed of any in France and the women here are surely spoiled by daily gifts of flowers.
In the afternoon we like nothing more than to stake out a little cafe table across from the likes of Bridgett and Eric's booth, near the end towards the Opera House. We don't really know them but we like to imagine that we do. As always, we order a carafe of rose, sit back and watch the magic begin. Sometime around 3 or 4 all of the vendors begin to dismantle their stalls (a great time to bargain) in a well rehearsed scene. They even have special carts and racks just for this purpose and just as it has for decades, an enormous amount of "stuff" moves out to places unseen and the Nice sanitation crews move in on their heels with brooms, mini trucks and "fire hoses" to sweep the detrius of the market away. And at the same time almost magically, the cafes lining both sides of the "Cours" bring out their little cafe tables and chairs "stacked oreo style" from some unseen place in the back of their small little cafes and transform the "Cours" into a delightful cafe piazza.
The whole thing takes little more than an hour. It is amazing!!
For me it's one of those rythms of life I often speak of and I can't think of a better way to wile away a lazy Nice afternoon.
The "Cours" is also shared with a daily (except Mondays) produce market at the end opposite the flower market. I am never happier than when I am amongst the stalls of a Provencal produce market- pure bliss and this is a good one! On Mondays a classic French brocante (antiques) market occupies the space normally for the produce market.
While this is not my thing, it is none the less fascinating and I'm told is one of the best in France.
When in Nice, our address is the Mercure Hotel Marche aux Fleurs, fronting the quai les Etats-Unis directly across from the Promenade des Anglais and beach and with the Cours Saleya behind. It is modern, an awesome location, pleasant and offers a fine value. It can't be beat!
We have been in many an old town, and for us Vieux Nice is tops. First it's bigger than you might think- easy to get lost in, it's winding knot of narrow streets and alleyways (some are just stairways)- but small enough to regain your bearings and continue your wanderings. And that's what you do here, wander, just wander.
Yes, it's touristy and it can be crowded, but just dive right in and you'll find some gems, whatever your interest. Skip the tacky tourist shops. Maybe try the olive oil shop which offers tastings of at least a dozen local offerings, pop into the numerous caves (wine shops) perhaps you'll get lucky and land a bottle of the local AOC Bellet, France's smallest appelation, about 50 acres within the urban confines of Nice. Nose into the local craftsmen, including Sandy's favorite jeweler, or the surprising number of fresh pasta shops. The most amazing butcher shop I've ever seen is here, a gallery to meat with an overhead zipline on which your neatly packaged order is fired to the nearby cashier. The place is simply gorgeous. And artist, artist everywhere. Just walk the alleyways and check them out for yourself. Window licking (window shopping) as the French call it is great sport here.
In addition to a most walkable old town, Nice is a transportation dream come true for the traveler. I've never encountered it's equal. An ultra-easy to use International Airport just minutes by bus or cab from old town, a big regional train station, hub for the entire Riviera, and a central bus station with lot's of cheap and frequent connections to all of the local hilltowns and sights. A new tramway glides down Nice's central Jean Medecin, thru Place Massena, past the old town and on to almost the port.
A vast improvement over schlepping your baggage from the train station, down to Massena and into old town. Hop on!!
This all serves to make Nice the most perfect, user friendly base from which to explore the length of the Riviera, it's hill towns and all the way down into Italy.
Nice is just made for day trips. Some of my favorites, at least once to Monaco-ville. Go straight up to haute ville where the palace is- the view from there is unbelivable. Jaw dropping hilltowns abound all along the high corniche- but none perhaps as spectacular as little Eze. Touristy? Oh yeah! But oh my God what a view.
Finally, about a 15-20 minute bus ride east of Nice is tawny Cape Ferrat with my all time favorite walk in these parts. French law makes all coastline public- here a paved pathway follows the circumference of this uber-exclusive cape. You get the million dollar views for free. I hop off the bus at little Plage Passable and I end this walk at the charming little beachside cafe on petite Plage Paloma- perfection!!
Nice is where I first tasted my Riviera- the beachs here, justifiably famous, are not to be missed. Pebbley and crowded I prefer to be in the thick of it right in front of old town. I want to savour the full experience here- chairs, parasols, beach side cafes, carafes of rose by my side, delicious seaside lunches and beautiful water, lotsa sun and acres and acres of bare tan flesh- the monokini's rule here. For me it's as good as it gets. Just dive in and enjoy the whole thing!
If the beaches aint enough, might I suggest a favorite of mine. Nice's high park, the old chateau (castle/fort). Just walk in the direction of the port from anywhere in old town and you will encounter any number of stairways leading up to the old chateau, actually now just a flat-top hill, the castle being long gone. and offering the perfect picnic spot and the finest views in all of Nice. The old town spreads out before you, its orange tiled roofs glistening, punctuated occasionaly by the tiled domes of the churches. The port is on the opposite side and lovely, but perhaps the best view (how do you decide) is past the old town and down the length of the Bay of Angles, as far as the eye can see. Tres belle/bellissimo
Not unexpectably, when I think of Nice, I think of food. Not gourmet or spectacular for me, just really good food. A melange of Italian, French and Arabic. Wander the streets, smell the smells and look for crowds of Niceoise. The variety of food here is overwhelming. I'm partial to some of the ethnic spots- Turkish kebaps, Indo-Pak curries, even an excellent Afgan cafe with wonderful Biryanis. Lunchtime can be especially fun, an excuse to visit the many street food vendor stalls that dot old town. Look for socca, that unique Niceoise crepe-like creation made of heavily peppered chickpea flour (I'm partial to Theresa's), doubtless of Arabic origin. And the pissaladiere, the native pizza with only carmelized onions, niceoise olives, and anchovies. But classic Niceoise food for me means La Merenda (4 Rue de la Terrasse), a tiny oh so typical French bistro just off the "Cours". Maybe 20 foot wide, shared rows of tables tightly spaced down both sides, kitchen visible at the end. This is as good as it gets for me. Chef Dominique Le Stanc is behind the counter, formerly of the ultra chic Chantecler in the luxurious Hotel Negresco and formerly holder of two Michilin stars before he gave them up for a simpler life. Limited authentic Niceoise menu on a blackboard- more limited wine menu, a white, red or rose (if you're lucky the local Bellet). No phone but reservations are required so you must go by early in the day and make them in person. Quirky, loveable and oh-so-good food, a required Niceoise experience for me.
As for the evenings, I'm really not a night time drinker, I prefer an afternoon carafe of rose in a quaint little outdoor cafe savoring the moment and watching the passersbye. My evenings entertainment is likly my resturant of choice. I'm there for the evening, the experience to be savored in the style of the French. That being said, I must remark upon old town's bounty of night time watering holes, especially the ubiquitous English, Irish and even Scottish Pubs. I counted 8 on my walk one day. Unbelivable. That's a lot of beer and a lot of English. If this is your thing, just start on rue de Palais de Justice and you won't be disappointed. Cheers!
I do, however, absolutely adore gelato and Nice has for me one of the top 3 temples to gelato in Europe. Fenocchio's (not to be confused with nearby Pinnochio's) on Place Rosetti. 80+ flavors and always artisnal (made in house). Another Nice must and a people watching paradise. Hint: try the lavender glace- you'll be pleasantly surprised.
Now I'm not a big museum hound but I've gotta say Nice delivers what I want. I'm a huge fan of the French Impressionost of the late 19th century and early 20th and none more than Henri Matisse. He lived and painted here for years while living in the big yellow building at the end of the "Cours". I love the Musee Matisse (Matisse museum)- oodles of his paintings many accompanied by the actual props appearing in the paintings. In the hills above Nice you'll find the town of Vence. Matisse spent the last years of his life here and blessed them with his Chapel of the Rosary. It's a spectacular homage to a single man's creativity. After seeing the Chapel don't miss the final room in the Musee Matisse. All of his sketches, models, etc. for the Chapel are there. How cool is that?
Also near Vence in the village of St Paul de Vence is the Foundation Maeght- my favorite Museum of Modern Art anywhere. A dealer/collector, Maaeght acquired these works as the artist were making a name for themselves. Don't miss the outside gardens with all of the Miro and Giacometti sculptures. This museum is just awesome!
Finally, I find Nice's Museum of Modern Art to be one of the most appealing big modern art museums of anywhere.
The works are approachable, not quite as far-out as some modern art museums. Just my speed. I especially love the exhibit of the rejection letter sent to Andy Warhol in the early 60's in response to his offer to place multiple pieces there gratis.
They hold only a few of his works today. Duh??
And now about a quirky little pleasure of mine. I must admit to being more than a casual fan of the movie "Ronin", some of which was shot on location in the nearby countryside around Le Turbie, but largely in Vieux Nice. Sandy and I love to watch the movie when we're here then scout out the locations on our own. It's great fun, a sort of scavenger hunt if you will. I recomend it highly. Hint: spend lotsa time sitting in a little sidewalk cafe on Place Rossetti with a carafe of rose and you'll begin to recognize many of the scenes. A walk along the port and you'll spot more.
Now, anyone who knows me knows that I'm not really a big city person. Paris, I do love because I view it's inner arrondissments as an assemblage of villages, and maybe just perhaps I am in love with the myth and romance of Paris, who knows.
But Nice, yes, I know it's big, 5th largest in France, but you see, for me it's all about the old town, Vieux Nice, My Nice. Not so big but oh so beautiful and smack in the middle of the "blue".
Yes,I know I will answer her irrestible siren call again and again.
A bientot
Cousin

Dedicated to Dave & Julie, Bon Voyage!