I love friends who make effort to visit Paris more than once. It means this city is no mere checklist item for them; it also opens up the possibility of leading them to Parisian neighbourhoods where few visitors venture in because they still need to see the Louvre, or Notre Dame, or Montmartre, and the likes. Don’t get me wrong: these are good places to see with much to learn (art, architecture, culture, etc) but after bringing one friend after another to the same set of places, it’s a nice change to be elsewhere, you know?
After a lovely brunch near the Canal St Martin (more on that next time), I invited SL to join me on an exploratory walk towards Mouzaïa, another purported “countryside” of Paris that lies in the 19th arrondissement. I don’t often come by this part of the city either, as I normally play explorer to discover the nooks and corners near where I live instead. Our trail took us from Canal St Martin to the small hilly streets by Colonel Fabien, then towards Parc des Buttes-Chaumont to continue towards the villas branching out from rue de Mouzaïa. And voila, the photos of things and places we admired on that wonderfully sunny September afternoon.
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Still trying to keep the homebody syndrome at bay, F and I cycled across Pont de Grenelle into the 16th arrondissement over the weekend, nodded hello to the Lady Liberty in passing, and intent on exploring the petite ceinture sort of adjacent to the Jardin du Ranelagh/Bois de Boulogne. This stretch opened a good few years ago, in 2007, thus predates the one in the 15ème which we visited recently.
Passing by many elegant buildings in this affluent neighbourhood, we finally spotted an entry into the former railway belt near La Muette and slipped through the low gates that are characteristics of many entrances to Parisian parks and gardens. Had it not been for the sign we saw just a minute ago, we would not have guessed that this was where the trains used to pass. Unlike the petite ceinture in the 15ème, nary a sign of abandoned rail track could be found here. They had been dismantled.
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It could be the weather, it could be work, it could be a combination of multiple things. Whatever the underlying causes, I’m more a homebody lately than the overly perky urban explorer that I could be. Luckily, F wouldn’t let me languish about at home for more than what’s healthy, and we’d end up taking some short walks somewhere around town. A couple of weekends ago, we explored a small portion of the old railway belt of Paris, called La Petite Ceinture, in the neighbourhood.
Parts of the disused railway line, which once encircled Paris in its entirety, are now officially open to public for walks and jogs, although a large part of it remains out of bound – not that it deters the most ardent urban adventurers from accessing and actually enjoying beautifully wild paths in Paris that tempts me to follow their footsteps at some point!
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How time flies. It felt like yesterday when we went treasure hunting for the lost love of Erasme, but here we are, set for another adventure. Keen, as usual, to explore different neighbourhoods, we took up the inter-arrondissements challenge that started from the Mairie of the 13th. We even reinforced the team with two new treasure hunters!
It seems Erasme had somehow lost his true love, again. Seriously, how often can a man be so careless? Once careless, forgiveable; twice, starting to be a bit ho-hum; thrice? He’d better had a good reason for it! This time though, he’s convinced his love is trapped in the written world, and as it was “raining books” overnight, the clues are hidden in the pages scattered about town. Allons-y!
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We woke up on a Saturday morning to reasonable cloud cover but looked set to hold steadily. After a quick trip to the supermarket nearby to get our picnic supplies, we headed south-west of Brest to Camaret-sur-Mer. A 4.5-hours hike around this part of Crozon peninsula was our activity of the day. That, and getting back to Brest in time for a lovely dinner at a super sushi restaurant in town. This is how every excursion should be planned; something active, followed by something delicious as a reward for the hard work put in. ;)
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We were back in Brittany, greeted by sunshine and what promised to be quite an active weekend. Because it was (sort of) summer, we were obviously obliged to go to the beach. We checked out a couple of them: one where the boys attempted to surf – C picked up this new hobby while in Brazil, and F was trying it out for the first time – in the rather chilly water of less than 20°C (brrrrr!), and one where I put on my baby step to swimming in the ocean, ahead of our vacation in Montenegro.
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As a newbie, I had much to learn at work. It is not unusual to see me still typing away or poring over documents at my desk when most of my colleagues leave for the day. I miss wandering the streets of Paris leisurely on my way home, since I’m cutting it pretty close nowadays to be back in time to prepare dinner. Well, a girl (and her partner) has got to eat, you know.
When I received an invitation from Imogen of Native Native a couple of weeks ago, asking if I would like to participate in a wine and cheese tasting evening that she was organising, my inner foodie wiggled a happy dance. “Oh yes, please!” (My inner busy bee did nag a little…)
Native Native aims to bring expat bloggers together for tailored events that introduce what’s new and innovative in France. For its June blogger event, it had partnered up with Les Nouveaux Fromagers and took us to the gorgeous tasting room of Ô-Chateau. F was just that bit envious when I told him about this tasting evening. I love cheeses and (certain) wines, but he’s an even bigger fan of these (proof: he’s 100% French) than me!
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We may soon be running out of interesting and new places to visit in the vicinity of F’s hometown. Each time we travel east to my in-laws’, we’ve always borrow one of their cars on one of the afternoons and explore places within an hour or less of driving time. The distance that we’re stretching, however, is getting longer and longer. We may have to start doing day trips rather than an afternoon away…
Our most recent trip to the hometown saw us driving out along the coastline and sought out Piriac-sur-Mer, a quaint village on the peninsular of Guérande. The centre of the village is pedestrianised, making it very pleasant to visit on foot, down along the main streets and continue along the sea wall, past the parked boats and yachts, and a well-loved merry-go-round which (sadly) danced to the tunes of the 80s.
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We are terrible at keeping up with exhibitions. Never mind that we have annual passes that allow us to visit on multiple occasions throughout the period of the exhibitions. Instead, we typically wait till a good portion of the periods is over, then either rushed through them or risked missing them altogether. Currently, in the Grand Palais, two exhibitions are taking place: both started in early May, with one ending in about a week and another in 3 weeks. Armed with our Carte Sésame, we headed over one evening this week.
The installation of Monumenta this year is by Ilya and Emilia Kabakov, Russian-born artists, who brought us “The Strange City”. Indeed it is a peculiar one, for even by the main entryway, a large probe-like installation beamed changing colours amidst strange music, if you can call it that. And scattered in a few other “rooms”, there are wood carvings of flying angels and weird city layouts. Neither F nor I know what to make of these.
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We had two hours to kill after returning our Vélonecy bikes following a day of bike-about Lake Annecy and retrieving our bags from Marc’s cellar. With tickets back to Paris via Chambéry, when we spotted a regional train due to leave for Chambéry pretty much right away, we did not hesitate jumping on it. That should give us time to quickly explore the historical capital of Savoy, buy something for dinner, and grab the capital-bound TGV.
Located in a valley surrounded by mountains, the medieval section of the town is within a short walk away from the train station. It is compact and can be easily visited on foot within an hour or two. The many heraldry-based flags hung conferred an atmosphere of the past, and I was half-expecting some knights to ride down the streets in armours and all set to joust each other! It was surprisingly quiet for a Saturday evening when we were there, with few people and even less traffic around.
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