Another rainy day in Paris

Dear Mother,

Today was spent packing (Janice), a bit more shopping, working on photos, and closing shop here.  I looked through yesterday's photos from my walk downtown, a few are interesting.  I started along the Champs Elysée, then went down around the Left Bank area near St Michel.  It rained off and on, so I ducked into several book stores, but none had the book I wanted to bring home.

This man was getting his three-wheeler ready to haul the next two customers around Champs Elysée.  They would be relatively protected from rain, once it returns, as return it most certainly will.

I like the uniformity of structures shared by these apartment buildings (condos, more likely).

Many men and women get around Paris by scooters, bicycles and motorcycles, rain or shine.  They are parked all over the place.

Judging by the stack of papers this lady was carrying, I had to wonder if she was a teacher, prof, lawyer, secretary, or what.  She hugged the buildings but seemed to leave her papers uncovered.

I thought that this lady looked so peaceful with her lovely smile.

Brass knockers are usually highly polished, often daily, as a matter of pride.

This professional beggar was well-organized, with quiet (drugged?) dogs.  I saw him put a few of his own coins into the plastic cup and then put the cup back out.

Even I could figure out that rain was on its way.

A closeup lets you see some of the tourists who climbed up the tower at Notre Dame.

This is one of the more crowded streets fanning off the St Michel plaza just across the River Seine, leading into the depths of the Left Bank or Latin Quarter, where the universities and monasteries used to be located and where Latin was the working language.

They couldn't resist . . . neither could I.  After all, I had to do something while waiting for the light to change.

This is obviously a football fan supporting Germany.

Tourists abound, but the buses are used mostly by locals.  The bus lines eventually make sense, but only if you already understand the city, the métro routes and one-way streets.

The water is still quite high in the Seine.  Tourist boats are still unable to get under the many low bridges, which is hurting that line of business just when the city is flooded with tourists.

This next sequence of photos was fun.  I quickly sensed that this couple was very much in love, and loving being in Paris, a city for lovers.  His back was against the sturdy stone railing on the bridge over the Seine, so I just watched and enjoyed.  I wish them much happiness, and was relieved she didn't push him into the river below.

We have been staying in today because of the rain, but will be heading out for dinner.  Meanwhile, all for now, with love from us both,

Evan

Pierre Frey Exhibit

I went to an exhibit at the Musée des Arts Décoratifs to see the exhibit of the Pierre Frey furnishing fabrics (Tissues Inspirées) and one on wallpaper (Faire le Muir). Both were excellent. Apologies for the poor quality of these cellphone photos.

Find the above cow on this fabric inspired by Switzerland. Does the design remind you of Pennsylvania Dutch designs?

I've seen this design of quilts piled in someone's closet in advertisements for the Pierre Frey fabrics in home decorating magazines.

I like the rooster and hen on this flowery design.

There were many more designs, most of them less folksy than these! Are you ready to sew some curtains or upholster a sofa?

You can find more about the Pierre Frey fabrics here.

A Rainy Day in Paris

Dear Mother,

We have seen the sun on rare moments, but day after day has offered rain in one form or another.  Janice said that there was thunder and a very heavy downpour here, but where I was downtown, we just had rain.  I did notice, however, that this offered some opportunities for more photos (surprise!)  Some of these were taken near the Bastille and the rest in the general area of St Paul's.

I could see that rain was coming, though it took a few minutes to realize that the wind was from the east, not west, and therefore I needed to find shelter.

I walked into one of those neat carriage entry ways which give access to old inner streets.  The overhead protection let me repack my bag, and get out my rain coat and umbrella.

Some graffiti looked good in the lighting offered by dark sky and weak sun from the west.  I have no idea how those guys got up that high.  Even ladders on a slanting slate roof would be a challenge.

Marked had just closed, so the city's water truck was hosing off the stones.  Paris is good at cleaning up after demonstrations and markets.

This looks like the new opera house near Bastille, but I neglected to shoot anything that identifies it absolutely.

This man has one very colourful rain jacket.  If I was courageous, I would have asked permission to get a closeup.

As the sprinkles began, fans were heading into various bars with tvs to watch England eventually beat Wales in the very last seconds.  The British press declares that the win was deserved, but little Wales put up a good fight.

I waiting under a store's awning during the heavy rain.  So did this young lady (at the adjacent store).  Since she was occupied by her telephone conversation, I was able to take her photo.

The smooth pavement throughout Paris collects water which reflect light beautifully.  I bought a book devoted entirely to reflections on wet Parisian sidewalks.

Rain need not stop lovers from talking things through while waiting under an umbrella.  She didn't look very happy, though.

The sun did shine for a few minutes this morning, so I shouldn't complain, but my short sleeved shirt has been resting, undisturbed, for the entire month.  Sadly, I likely won't need it much in Vancouver either.

All for now, with love from us both,

Evan

A demonstration in Paris against the proposed labour legislation

Dear Mother,

We are doing well, and sadly have only a few days left in this year's trip.  One of my goals this summer was to see a demonstration, and yesterday was the day.  I won't go into the details about the new law that is getting its initial reading, but it has aspects that deeply trouble many French workers, people at the lower end of the economic scale whose salaries are not high, but workers who have traditionally enjoyed some job security, early retirement, and a low but stable level of support once they retire.  Now aspects of this post-WW II economic model are being revised because of the economy, national debt, etc.  Of course, people at the upper end of the economic scale see their salaries and benefits soar unbelievably, so the proposed cuts at the lower end of the scale really hurt the masses.  The gap between rich and poor continues to grow, visibly.

Consequently, the big news (beside EURO 2016 football) has been the series of  demonstrations/manifestations throughout France.  Yesterday (June 14th) was to be one of the largest in Paris, or so it was hoped.  I have no idea how crowd sizes can be estimated, but know that estimates vary considerably, with the police saying at about 75,000 attended and the union leaders saying that 1,300,000 came.  I just know that there were lots of people, onlookers as well as participants.  I also know that although there apparently was some serious violence (29 police injured and more civilians), I saw none, and I was there for several hours.  I understand that some anarchists and/or anti-capitalists wore black ski masks (in June!), reportedly quickly inserted themselves at the front of the demonstration, went at their own impatient pace, and did their destruction along the route before the real demonstrators could even arrive.  One union guy was quoted as sadly saying that he spent eight hours on a bus to get to Paris, and all he wanted to do was to sing, march, and be counted for all to see, but all of that has now been overshadowed by the violence of the non-union hooligans.  Sadly, this happens to many worthy demonstrations in many countries.

I will use my photos to tell what I saw, remembering that I certainly did not see everything, nor did I always understand what I was seeing.

The cortège, as they call it, started at the large Place d'Italie at 13:30h and was supposed to arrive several kms later at the Invalides by later afternoon.  Invalides has an enormous green space stretching out in front, suitable for enormous gatherings.  When I arrived, I expected to be late, but I was early.  Everything was as normal as could be.  Young guys were having fun with a small football while lolling about on the fresh grass.  We have had lots of rain, so the parks are still lush.

One well-dressed worker was enjoying quick snooze on his afternoon break.  You could tell by his shoes and shirt that he would not be participating in any labour demonstration just right away.  Typically, there is no grass under park trees.  Instead, Paris has a type of compressed soil mixed with very fine stones which work well in all kinds of weather.  The surface is also good for bocce.

This gal seems as puzzled as I about where the action was going to take place.  Like her, I stood around a bit, listening for sounds or sights that would indicate where the marchers would appear (I had not seen the map which was published the following day--hardly helpful for me).

One policeman kindly advised the old guys to pack up their bocce balls and head home, in case trouble was coming.  They joked nicely, and slowly cooperated.  They have likely been observing demonstrations all their lives.

As the old guys left, policemen arrived, taking places on the edges, almost out of sight, yet just visible enough to remind people of their presence.  Behind them were scores of police vans on all sides.

There were also many dozens of tour buses parked nearby, on street after street, waiting to take workers back home to their respective cities.  I saw signs from Lyon, Marseille and many other places. 

Invalides is one of the treasures of France, one I now realize I have not yet entered.  Built in 1676 (a century before the American revolt), it is now the tomb of Napoléon I, museum, etc., a significant symbol of the nation, its past and its power.  Typically, Parisian monuments have wonderfully extended open spaces in front so that their magnificence can be fully appreciated.

I learned where the demonstrators were in their march by watching the helicopter.  Initially, I assumed it was something like a news helicopter, but now that I have blown up the photo, I see that it was a police unit keeping an eye on things.

Some marchers finally made it to Invalides and, after walking for hours, called it a day, strolling off to their cars parked elsewhere.  This caused me to think that the rally was going to be low-keyed after all, but I was very wrong.

As other people left work and headed home, some paused to see if any action was visible.  We could hear loud speakers and some explosions (flares?/rockets?/tear gas?) but saw nothing.

Then the grassy area started to fill up.  Good grief, I had been on the wrong side of the park.  Am I the only person in the world so stupid as not to be able to spot 70,000 people arriving nearby?  Smoke was starting to rise from the workers' flares, which are used both as a show of power and for a sort of celebration (as at European football matches).

Some young guys started climbing poles to get better views, but I haven't been that nimble for decades, if ever.

Police slowly came forward.  I wish I had taken photos of them in a tortoise formation, like Roman times, but I was too fascinated, and was also focusing on learning whether I should stay and watch, or be sensible and clear out of there.  After all, my running days are long past.

But I figured if people as staid as these two were staying put, I could too.  

I moved to another spot so that I could have a better view of the thrown smoke bombs, if indeed that's what they were, and I liked the view of demonstrators, smoke, and the old military canons.

By this time, the police had had enough.  A charge by young men (anti-capitalists?) had been made toward the sturdy gates in front of Invalides, with lots of male yelling, so the police brought in their water tanks with powerful sprayers, front and back.  Water came out in short spurts, enough to surprise, give a good soaking, possibly throw people off balance, and remind folks that there's lots more where that little squirt came from.  I was using a telephoto lens, so I was not all that close to the action.

This photo unfortunately doesn't show that the front of this water canon truck is like the 'cow catcher'/snow plough, something that can bulldoze slowly through a crowd with less chance of people getting caught under the vehicle.  It is psychologically intimidating.

I decided that I had enough photos, I was getting hungry, my feet ached, so I joined many others in slowly walking away.  The café close to the main route was filled with tourists.  The guy in bright yellow is a football fan from Sweden.

 "That which the power does/creates

The street can undo."

In other words (I think), even though those in government, with all the power, make laws, we demonstrators can get the laws changed (if enough of us demonstrate).  Demonstrations have played important part in Parisian history.  Demonstrations by the university students back in 1968 are still spoken of and written about with awe.

But as I was moving away from Invalides, I realized that the real demonstration was finally arriving, somewhat later (than the now soaked hooligans).  As far as I could see down the broad boulevard, there were orange and red banners and flags, people in vests (demonstration organizers keeping their people in order--and doing an excellent job).

There were also van and trucks with entertainers and entertainment.  This cartoon drawn expertly on plain cardboard shows a wealthy CEO/industrialist with cigar (workers cannot afford cigars) who has run out of (toilet) paper, so he demands that a unionized worker let him use the union flag!

The workers looked, for all the world, like this was simply an ordinary parade, talking, joking, but also being seen as supporters of their crucial cause.

This worker stepped away from the main procession and lit a flare, laughing all the while.  It didn't last long, but sure created smoke.  Everybody enjoyed it. 

However, well in advance of the march proper, hooligans had obviously been through.  Every now and then, they apparently paused long enough to take out some glass panels of bus shelters.  I suppose that this is about 'par for the course', but it didn't seem to bother people much.

"Work, that makes me tired in advance!" I couldn't agree more.

Just because the métro stop was closed (likely to prevent vandalism), doesn't mean that the maps can't but put to a good cause.  Loosely translated (without the wonderfully similar sounds in French), " we are marching [for progress], not on the margin [of society]", or at least that's my interpretation.

Her sticker suggests that she is an educator.  If so, I bet she knows how to keep law and order in her classroom.

These amplified entertainers rolled by, with people singing along.  A lute in a demonstration?

This gentleman stood out, in my mind.  I liked his sense of quiet dignity.

Sadly, the workers hoping to ride home in this bus may have needed to wait.  Hooligans (clearly not unionists!) had demolished the bus windows.  Senseless, and truly counter-productive.  This is not the best strategy for getting those workers to agree with you.

After several hours, I was ready to eat, and most of all, to sit down and rest.  The camera pack must weigh some 15 or more, I was hot, the subways were closed and buses could not possibly run.  Traffic was forming one colossal jam-up.  I knew that if Janice and I were to meet as scheduled, I simply had to keep on walking.  Perhaps 20-30 minutes later, with multiple phone calls, we finally met up on Blvd St Michel, found a lovely restaurant close to Le Procope, and were home for the last 15 minutes of Portugal being tied by little tiny Iceland.

It was a long, but very good day!

With love from us both,

Evan