Yesterday we visited the Pompidou Centre, which you and Dad saw some time ago. With Neal's considerable help, we were able to print tickets so that we would not have to be in the impossibly long line for the 11:00 opening. Janice was interested in seeing the Le Corbusier exhibition, and I decided to join her. We had to go up multiple escalators to get to the 6th floor. The Pompidou Centre's escalators are in tubes outside the building proper.
From the top two levels you can see parts of the Paris. This gal apparently required additional support.
St Eustache is where we go each Sunday for the organ recital at 5:30.
Cameras were allowed (no flash) and this gal was determined to record absolutely everything she saw. Her camera technique suggests that she will have many blurred photos.
I was interested in two paintings, the first by Léger and the second by Le Corbusier. In both, I enjoyed contemplating the artists' attempts to simplify their work--something my photography needs.
Some students were listening to a lecture on art . . . sort of.
As I descended, I enjoyed seeing the exterior structure.
We then walked north for a while until hunger dictated that it was indeed time to eat (1:45). We found a nice Italian café which served BBQed veggies which we shared and some fish and salad. This gentleman ate by himself (pizza) while reading Le Monde.
We then took the métro north so that we could walk toward Montmartre. Janice had a specific fabric (tissue) store in mind, and the area has all sorts of fabric outfits. The one she went through most thoroughly had five floors of fabric. Some Liberties fabrics ran just under €22/meter. Knowing that life has other things on offer beside fabric stores, I went off on my own. One store sold buttons, thousands of buttons. The store window alone had a glassed in bin that was several feet high, perhaps 18" wide, offering buttons at 10 for €1.10. A rather determined lady was pawing through them.
I later found several dresses that were fun to photograph, though I know better than to ask Janice to try them on.
I believe that yesterday was the beginning of Ramadan, which requires fasting (solids and liquids) for Muslims during all the daylight hours, and then allowing great feasting once the sun sets. Cafés in this Muslim area were strangely vacant. I saw this gentleman sitting rather forlornely by himself, undoubted thirsty and hungry.
There may not be much grass in Paris, but some people do grow flowers in an attempt to soften the omni-present stone.
Since Monsanto is not my favourite company, I liked this clever graffito.
One can see many grandparents meeting grandchildren after school. I find relationships between the generations very special. It requires years of hours together, but the relationship is clearly unique.
I decided to climb up the hill the back way, rather than following all the tourists. The road certainly did go up.
And then, without warning, you come across a small park in which the path is lined by stately trees. This land is surely valuable real estate.
Some newer buildings with more sturdy flat roofs allow occupants to plant trees in containers.
Another multi-level park had several boule courts made of fine gravel.
I never did learn where this pathway went, and was not about to explore it on my own, but some of the graffiti was fresh and colourful.
Parents and grandparents awaited this elementary school releasing their children. I heard enthusiastic organized cheers from these youngsters from the enclosed playground, but they were well protected from the view of outsiders.
A last look at yet another set of steep stairs before heading back down to my métro to pick up some bread on my way home.
We had perhaps 30 drops of rain in the afternoon, and the city surely needs far more. It has not rained during our 4 weeks here, and the forecast is for sun for the coming week. Nice for me, but the poor fields, trees . . . and vineyards!
With love from us both,
Evan
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