Paris in the rain


paris in the the spring:

When I was a kid, our elementary school library had a book of puzzles,
one of which is pictured above. The book claimed that if you look
quickly at the picture, you’ll read it as “Paris in the spring” — if
you did, take a closer look (and let me know that it worked!).

Well, it’s spring, and I’m in Paris — but the weather is not the stuff
of legend — or maybe it is, but not the kind of legend I like telling.

My flight to Charles de Gaulle airport left late and arrived late (like
almost every flight I take these days, now that I think of it), but was
basically pleasant — even though we were only in the air for 40
minutes, they managed to feed us our choice of sandwiches, unlike US
airlines, which have given up on food for flights of under 2 hours or
flights which don’t take off or land when they think people should be
hungry. The delay was due to weather, which should have made me think
— but it didn’t, so I decided to save the company some money and take
the RoissyBus into town (48 francs, about $7, instead of 250-300 francs
for a taxi); I knew my hotel was only a few hundred meters from the end
of the bus ride and I didn’t expect to have any trouble finding it.

And finding the hotel was easy, and it was only a ten-minute walk
— but by the time I got there, I was
drenched, because a weather system caught up with us, and it was pouring
down rain. I managed to register (it’s not easy when you can’t read the
form because your glasses are wet, and when you drip all over the form
when you try to sign it) and went up to the room to dry off. A few
minutes later, I felt far better, and the rain had stopped, so I went
out to look around and have a bite of lunch (the sandwich on the plane
wasn’t very filling, but it was better than peanuts). I also splurged
and spent 35 francs ($5) on an umbrella, since the day was rather
gloomy.

It was late enough in the day by this point that I didn’t think it was
worth going to any museums, but I definitely wanted to be out rather
than spending the afternoon in my hotel room, so I decided to do a favor
for a friend and
take a picture of the hotel he’ll be staying at in June, the Hotel de
Trois Colleges near the Pantheon. Actually, I took six pictures, but I
won’t post any of them here — but I did take a picture of the Pantheon
as long as I was in the neighborhood.

pantheon:

Ever since my first trip to Paris, a few years ago, I’ve liked wandering
around the city — it’s just a wonderful city to walk through.
Everywhere you turn, there’s another typically Parisian scene, like this
one on the Rue Lagrange (in the 6th, just a few blocks from Notre Dame).

rue lagrange:

By this time, it was drizzling again — which seems to have been very
typical this year. The Seine is very wide and high (not to mention
brown and fast-flowing); it’s so full, in fact, that there’s no sidewalk
by the sightseeing boats.

sunken sidewalk:

And at other places, you can see that the river has taken out the paths
which are normally a pleasant place to walk.

flooded seine:

Buildings near the river’s edge are in trouble, too.

flooded seine 2:

I wanted to visit the Musee de la Deportation, which commemorates the
Jews (and others) who were sent from France to concentration camps,
mostly to be killed by the Nazis. The museum is just across the street
from
Notre Dame, descending from street level down to river level, but the flooding meant that it was off
limits.

musee de la deportation:

By this time, I was just across from Ile St. Louis, which houses one of
the best ice cream makers in the world, Bertillion; I wanted to eat
before having my ice cream, so I set off in search of a restaurant (not
a difficult task in Paris!). I intended to follow Tim Bray’s rule —
find a busy restaurant on a busy corner and the odds are with you — but
I didn’t see anything I wanted to eat at the first few places, so I kept
walking. And then the rain started. My umbrella kept me dry, or so I
thought — but then the wind blew my pants up against my legs and I
realized that I was soaked from the knees down. So I dashed into the
next restaurant I saw and got the last table in the place.

The food was good, and they happened to sell Bertillion ice cream
and
sorbet, so I was happy and well-filled by the time the rain
diminished enough to leave. I walked to the nearest Metro station and
hopped a train towards my hotel. But I got off a stop too early and
wandered around some more, first through Galleries Lafayette (entering
that store 15 minutes before closing is a frustrating experience, but I
guess it saved me money!), and then somewhat randomly around the area.
In the process, I found an area with many kosher restaurants, but, of
course, they were closed because it was still Shabbat. After a while,
though, I decided I was ready to go back to the hotel and take off my
wet clothes, so I took out my GPS and discovered that it’s very hard to
see view of enough of the sky in Paris to get a position — but
eventually, I figured out what direction I had to go in to find my
hotel, and here I am.

I haven’t had the courage to check the weather forecast for tomorrow.
Whatever it is, I’ll be out in it!

Foot-and-Mouth

On Thursday, I wrote about how Israelis didn’t
seem to be letting the “situation” affect their lives too much and
wondered how that reaction compared to what foot-and-mouth was doing to
the English. I’d have to say that foot-and-mouth is having a much more
significant effect — for example, the road into IBM had straw on it —
straw with antibiotics, to kill any germs that might be on tires on cars
driving in and out of the property (IBM Hursley is in a rural area).
And there was a scare a week ago, where it looked as though
foot-and-mouth had been detected nearby; if that had happened, no one
would have been allowed in or out of the area, and IBM Hursley might
have had to close down for a while.

There were also ads in the newspaper and on the radio telling people
that the countryside was not completely closed for visiting, and giving
a phone number to call for details — but many activities have been
cancelled.

At the airport, every shop selling food had a sign informing customers
that it was now illegal to take milk, meat, milk products, or meat
products out of the country (even to eat on one’s flight), and that some
countries (including the US) were banning the import of British milk
chocolate.

In France, there were a few signs asking people who’d been on a farm to
report to Customs to have their shoes disinfected and to stay off of
farms in France, but there wasn’t any strong effort made to check, or
even to make sure that incoming passengers read the signs — certainly,
the person who glanced at my passport didn’t say anything to me
(literally! Nor did he stamp my passport, but that’s fine; I already
have a French stamp and I’m running out of room anyway), and I doubt I
was alone in being ignored.

But when I looked at the 8pm French news, I could tell that
foot-and-mouth was the lead story here, too. I just couldn’t tell if
they were talking about the outbreak in England or cases on the
Continent.

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One Response to Paris in the rain

  1. Jacqueline says:

    Hello David

    Just read your 2001 Paris blog. Going to Paris tonight, its raining here, Paris forcast is rain for the next 10 days so I just searched for ‘Paris in the rain’ and up you popped. Yes, it does read ‘Paris in the Spring’ at a quick glance. Your blog made me smile, so I’m now reading some of your others. I was last in Paris in 2004 for my youngest daughter’s 18th birthday and it was bitterly cold, but dry. This weekend we are meeting our son, Nick and his new Korean wife, Lia. They are on a fact finding mission as they intend opening an English language bookshop/cafe with teaching facilities in Seoul. Will take an umbrella!

    Regards

    Jacqueline