Perhaps the autumn weather is not as bad as I thought. I can manage grey skies during the week while I’m at work, as long as every weekend is as sunny as today. Enough for me to sit outside with a good book and read for a few hours and I’m pleased as punch. What can I say? I’m a simple girl, enjoying simple things of life.

Clealy I am not the only one taking advantage of this pleasant weather. Families are out in throng. Couples too, whispering sweet nothing (or so I am assuming) to each other. And those of us flying solo, we’re content just to have our own me-time. I, for one, needed this, since I am a little stressed out from work. Here’s to oh sunny sunny day :)

Brrrr. That’s the vibration from my mobile phone. Anne has just texted me. “You should check rue Princesse for today’s pic.” Have I told you just how wonderful my friends are? They are keeping an eye out nowadays for anything that may be of interest to me and send tips my way. She was, however, being mysterious. It means I do need to check this out myself.

As soon as I turned into rue Princesse, I couldn’t stop giggling. And silently thanking her for knowing me this well. Two French rugby jerseys in gigantic size are hung over the street, reminding everyone that France is still in the game and on path to compete for the Webb Ellis Cup. They would have to defeat Wales tomorrow to be in the final, against either Australia or New Zealand. Nailbiting stuff!

Ps: France fell at the last hurdle, losing the Rugby World Cup by 1 point to New Zealand on 23 October.

Paris loves jazz. Or maybe it’s jazz loves Paris. Either way, they are good things, because I love both. It means while I explore the nooks and corners of the city, I could always count on coming across someone playing live jazz. It could be a bar, or it could be on the street. I’ll take whichever comes my way.

At this moment, I could sway and dance to the music, or barely tap my foot in sync with the melody. Instead, I am trying hard to keep still, from not humming the song and let it vibrates through my body. I already only have a small compact camera and it’s getting dark, so two strikes against the possibility of good pictures. In fact, I don’t think I’ll be successful in getting a single sharp photo of this quintet, but that’s ok too, because I am too happy to care.

Another monument at public square for you today – it’s a miniature of the Lion of Belfort. It sits rather prominently at Place Denfert-Rochereau, with plenty of after office vehicles zooming around in their rush to get home, or make it for dinner appointments, or whats not. At the same time, there was a vanful of police next to me so I just made a quick job of photographing this and left.

The Lion of Belfort was sculpted in celebration of France’s resistance during the siege of Belfort, led by none others than Colonel Denfert-Rochereau. Given this square in the 14th arrondissement is already name after the colonel, why not place a miniature of the famous lion that commemorates the effort at the square, right?

This piece of street art is very intriguing. When I last walked past the junction between rue des Feuillantines and rue Pierre Nicole, it was in the summer. I didn’t see this collage then. But it was there this evening. Its creator goes by the name of Tristan des Limbes.

I can’t quite make out who is making this cry of help, nor the reason why. Is this a representation of mother earth crying out for help, or someone’s buried conscience, or something else? But I guess that’s makes art beautiful in its own right. It can have multiple interpretations, each to its observer, and still there is no need for just one answer. It may be A, it may be B. It may even be Z.

It is another grey autumn day in Paris (I best get used to it), but not particularly cold, so still alright to wander around a little in the evening on a long walk. Somehow, my aimless stroll took me to the historic main building of Observatoire de Paris. The one the famously aligns with Fontaine de l’Observatoire and Jardin du Luxembourg.

So this quilted looking dome of the Perrault building is the Arago dome, named after François Arago, the director of the Observatory from 1834-1853. It houses an astronomical telescope, and may be visited as part of a 2-hour guided tour (reservation required) of the entire building. The tour also takes you floor by floor, to see the talking clocks room (ground floor), the grand gallery (first floor) and the Cassini Hall (second floor) where the Paris meridian is marked. I should try to book myself in for a tour.

Ps: hmmm, the French version says reservation is currently not available.

“Philippe!”
“Oui?”
“T’es occupé?”
“Naaaan. Qu’est ce que tu penses?”

Ok. I give up. I am simply unable to recreate the atmosphere at the market on paper. Or in this case, on blog. And in French. Especially in French.

Philippe is the local producer that I get my greens from at the market. He’s friendly, always smiling, and patient with me while I stutter through my shopping list week after week. To be honest, anytime that I’ve been there, he’s always busy. Maybe with exception at the times that I was at the market much earlier than usual. He’s usually there with a couple of assistants, working steadily to serve the customers in line.

There’s a warm camaraderie between Philippe and a couple other stall vendors nearby. It is not unusual for them to holler and ribbing at each other, looking for some change (they are each other’s bank for coins and smaller notes), have a cuppa coffee and a bite f croissant pre-9am rush. This is the kind of atmosphere you’ll never get in a supermarket. This is the kind of cheering up that I’d happily take any Sunday morning.

The métro station of Saint-Germain-des-Près is special, in that, unlike all other (cultural) stations in the city, it doesn’t have large billboard spaces. Just clean, white-tiled curved walls. And glass display panels. Perfect as space of temporary projections of works of art and literature.

I was running late for my friend’s party near Odéon this evening. When I looked out the window of the métro at Saint-Germain-des-Près, there were projections of illustrative works by students of an art school (sorry I forgot to jot down the name). I made a mental note that I must return to this station later, on my way home. I love the vintage Hollywood vibe of these sketches. Think Cary Grant and Gregory Peck. And now go, awwww.

With the days getting shorter, it’s getting more and more challenging for me to do after-work photowalk. Even tougher when I have tango class to attend this evening, so back to some place I don’t have far to go – Place de la Concorde – mere 5 minutes walk or so from yesterday’s view point.

Standing in front of the Jardin des Tuileries by the gate, a few options come to mind. I definitely could come back here a few more times for very different shots. For today though, you’re getting one of the fountains at Place de la Concorde (the south Maritime Fountain) with a backdrop of the Eiffel Tower. There were too much traffic though, of else I would have shot a more inclusive photo, instead of this weird half-way cut-off, oops.

I’m beginning to believe that if you throw a coin at something in Paris, you’ll probably hit a landmark of some sort. Some more famous than the others, of course, but sometimes, even what seems to be something nondescript, could well bear a sign to tell you that someone famous used to live or do-such-and-such here.

Standing along Quai François Mitterrand and looking over the River Seine, on a large scale, it’s easy enough to spot Square du Vert-Galant, Pont Neuf, statue of King Henri IV (of France) and the dome of the Panthéon. With a navette throw in there for good measure. Could be nice with some blue sky over it though, don’t you think? Pretty please, I’d like the grey days to be over.