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Written by Secrets of Paris guide-in-training Philippe Maillet
Paris is not only a romantic city, it's also a real melting pot of cultures. And nothing is stranger than when your steps lead you to an exotic architectural site right in its heart. That's what happens in the 5th district, at the foot of the Saint Geneviève hill, where a white wall hides a mysterious building, flagged by a colorful tower and a massive wooden door. This monument is actually the Great Mosque of Paris, a little piece of Morocco hidden in the French capital.
This sanctuary built between 1922 and 1926 was built as a tribute to the Muslim soldiers who died during World War I fighting for the French Republic. One hundred thousand volunteers from Algeria, Morocco and Tunisia perished during the war, far from their native lands. Afterwards, the French people wanted to give the Muslim community a place to commemorate this tragedy. Thus a project was launched, including a mosque, a Muslim Institute, several reception rooms, and a library. A restaurant and hammam (steam baths) completed this Moroccan haven in the heart of the Latin Quarter.
Nowadays, visitors and prayers go together in this quiet atmosphere of the Great Mosque. A peaceful garden welcomes you to this reconstituted paradise, with its fountains, palm trees and roses. Beyond that is the courtyard of the mosque, decorated in the tradition of Fez, the spiritual capital of Morocco. Ceramics, engraved plaster, sculpted wood, and calligraphy running all along the walls and beneath the arcades evocate the North African heritage. At the end of the corridors and terraces a huge door opens onto a majestic reception hall reminding us of the Tales of 1001 Arabian Nights.
But the mosque is above all a meeting with Islam. And it seems important in these troubled times to try to understand this religion, its rituals, and its differences. The mosque of Paris is a good place to lift the curtain on this often misunderstood culture, where we can find an open-minded aspect of Islam, welcoming to visitors. By learning about the history and cultural heritage of this religion we can better understand how it relates to our own heritage.
Free Tours of the Great Mosque and Islamic Culture in Paris
Philippe grew up in western France, in the area of Nantes. He came to Paris in 1999 to study art history at La Sorbonne. After specializing in Islamic architecture he went on to the Paris-Belleville School of Architecture where he acquired a diploma in traditional heritage restoration and in the Ecole du Louvre for a degree in museology. What characterizes Philippe's background is a passion for North Africa, its arts, its history, its cultures. Eager to follow his family's steps, he moved to Morocco where he worked on research projects for the Moroccan government concerning the conversion of traditional buildings into guest houses in the old city (medina) of Marrakech. After many stays in Morocco and Algeria, he is now an expert on North African architecture, from the Middle Ages up to now. Having embraced the Arabic culture in all its aspects, he knows not only history of art but also traditions, music and food. As a guide-in-training, he's offering free tours with a focus on Islamic architecture and culture in June and July 2016. Contact us for more information.]]>
In May, my visit to the Musée Carnavalet -- the City of Paris's museum of the history of Paris and its people -- nurtured a growing curiosity about the evolving political, social and economic factors that created today's Paris. However, it was a walk in the Forum des Halles -- the site of Paris's central market until it was demolished in the 1970's -- that took me out of a museum of history and landed me smack down in a construction site: a noisy, smelly, vibrant lesson about the changes in Paris over the past sixty years.
In 1956, sixty years ago, my father held my hand as we walked in circles around Les Halles, Paris's central market since the 11th century, trying to find the restaurant, Au Pied de Cochon. As we dodged puddles tinged with the blood of animals being prepared and sold in the market, we almost lost my brother. Excited to be showing us his Paris, the Paris he had known as a child in the 1920's and 30's, Pop never stopped talking. I really didn't listen, too mesmerized by the mess of stacked wooden boxes, discarded heads of lettuce, and the occasional smell of urine and rotting meat.
It was dark, maybe dinnertime or maybe the passages were so narrow that they lacked daylight. Pop probably explained that the restaurant had been in business since World War II, that it was open 24 hours a day to feed the men and women working in the market at night, and that the house specialties were onion soup and pigs' feet. Pigs' feet? All I recall is being squished between two grownups and their damp coats on a banquet in a dark restaurant. I suspect that my brother and I, less adventurous eaters, had steak frites.
On a fall day in the 1980's, almost thirty years after our family meal at Au Pied de Cochon, I exited from the Chatelet-Les Halles metro station in search of the Centre Georges Pompidou expecting to find myself in some variation of the market I had seen and smelled. Instead, an escalator carried me through an underground shopping mall, fashioned after the malls in the States but designed in layers rather than spread out horizontally. Many of the shops were closed and boarded up. For the first time in all my wanderings around Paris, I was afraid. Disoriented and chilled by all the damp concrete, I finally found my way to the street.
On investigation, I learned that the market, which I remembered as built of ornate iron and fashioned after the Gare de l"Est, had been demolished in 1970. Only the church of St. Eustache, built in 1532 and restored in 1840, and the Bourse du Commerce (Commodities Exchange) remained. A major urban renewal project requiring collaboration between the government of Charles de Gaulle and the City of Paris, as well as municipal train and metro companies, had begun in the late 1960's. Above ground, I found a park with no place to sit on the grass and few pedestrians enjoying the greenery.
The market vendors had moved to Rungis, outside of Paris. There, it is said, they would have a larger, more hygienic area to sell their wares. The Chatelet-Les Halles station now served five metro lines converging with three RER trains, the express trains that go through the city and into the suburbs. As I stood on the sidewalk all I could ask myself was, "What were they thinking?"
If I could have listened to the politicians, city fathers and railway men in the late 60's and early 70's as they planned the future of Les Halles, perhaps I would understand their intent. At the time Andre Malraux was De Gaulle's Minister of Culture. He was known for his convincing oratory, his progressive views about democratizing and revitalizing city space, as well as his desire to beautify city centers. Perhaps these were the goals, but walking around I would say that nobody really got what they wanted. Even the park was maze-like and uninviting.
Now, in 2016, the latest project to revitalize Les Halles is nearing completion. Eager to see the results, I walked down rue Montorgueil, a lively, semi-pedestrian street with cheese, produce, fish and meat markets open to the sidewalk, cafes on the sunny corners and numerous historic markers to bring history alive. At the end of the street, on the right stands the church of St. Eustache, its gothic facade facing the work underway. The Bourse du Commerce, a round, solid and reassuring building is to the west. Ahead lies a construction site with a fence and signs promising four hectares of garden to be called Le Jardin Nelson Mandela. Between the Bourse and the construction is a well-worn green space with cement benches surrounding vents from underground. People are eating, talking, reading and nuzzling. Others are hustling across the park. Two street musicians are competing with canned music from the Forum les Halles, which lies to the east.
The steel and yellow glass Canopy of the Forum les Halles undulates above the 2.5 hectare area that contains the mall complex, designed by Patrick Berger and Jacques Anziotti. Under the Canopy is a media library and recording studios, a hip-hop center - whatever that is - an auditorium, cinemas, gym and open spaces for events. As I walked around the complex looking into a Sephora store and a restaurant, people were gathering for a concert in an outdoor space to be given by Christophe Mae, a popular musician.
Security guards stood at each of the escalators leading down to the trains, subways and more than 130 shops and 19 restaurants. After showing the contents of my shoulder bag to the guards, I set off down the escalators to see the shops. On the third mezzanine level below ground, but still exposed to the outside, there were signs of dampness on the concrete floors. Perhaps it was just the cement reacting to the damp weather Paris has been experiencing. Perhaps the panels of the canopy, which have been referred to as "piss yellow," are leaking.
The trendy stores and coffee shops, such as H & M, Starbucks, McDonalds and Darty, are still surrounded by construction making it noisy and difficult to picture the finished space. Nonetheless, the desire to cater to all the people of Paris -- not just the wealthy and middle-class who can afford to live in the city center -- is apparent in the choice of stores and on the faces of the young people enjoying a day shopping. The complex has been designated an International Tourist Zone making it possible for the shops to remain open in Sundays. The city intends to complete construction on the entire complex in 2018, opening sections as they are ready. At a cost of $1 billion, I ask, "Was it worth it?"
As an individual with an emotional attachment to Paris, I celebrate the desire over the past 60 years to democratize the city, including its museums and central marketplace, especially since its population has become more and more diverse. I'm delighted that the underground shopping area and metro station of the 1970's are being improved, but bemoan the loss of the iron marketplace, a touchstone with the past. With the benefit of hindsight, I wish that the changes had been completed with a more faithful attention to this historic structure, while still creating accessible green space in the center of the city, encouraging venues for music and dance, and improving the space below ground.
I look forward to revisiting the finished Forum des Halles to see the final project before evolutionary change takes it in yet another direction.
Anne Daignault is a Massachusetts-based creative non-fiction writer who attended the May 2016 Paris Travel Writing Workshop.]]>
I love using the Vélib to get around Paris, especially now that it's so nice outside (read: between sudden thunder showers it's actually sunny and gorgeous). It looks a lot scarier to ride a bike in Paris than it feels when you're actually on the bike. Maybe it's the high of cruising through the capital with the wind in your hair, but it's very quickly addictive.
I got a native Parisian hooked last weekend when I suggested we grab two Vélib's to go check out the street art murals in the 13th arrondissement. I have an annual pass (€29), but he was a newbie and needed a day pass (which are currently €1.70; weekly passes are €8). We figured, being locals of average intelligence, that this wouldn't take us long to figure out. But getting the pass from the terminal was enormously confusing.
Just to give you all a heads up, there are two main steps: creating an account, then checking out your bike.
Create the Account
First you need to create an account. We did this right at the bike terminal (there's one at every bike rental station). One side has a map on it and a touchpad for those who already have a subscriber number. The other side has an interactive screen and a place to insert a credit card. Go here, touch any number on the keypad to get started, and change the language to English to make your life easier. Note that there are instructions on the big screen but also on the little screen next to the credit card slot. A bit confusing.
To create a subscription account you need to click on 2 to "Buy a Ticket", then select a 4-digit code (pick any code you can easily remember, but not 1234 or 0000). Then you need to pay for your subscription with a credit card (and when it asks for your code, it means your credit card PIN, not the Vélib code you just made up). Once it's done you get a little receipt (récépissé) with an eight-digit code which is your subscription ID (or abonnement) number. Hold onto this for the duration of your subscription. You can also create your account online in advance, which may be easier (at least you're not standing on the street with your wallet out!) and is the only option for those without micro-chipped credit cards.
Check Out a Bike
Now you go get your bike. Find one that isn't broken (ie wheels have air, all parts including pedals and handlebars in their right place, spin the pedals backwards to make sure chain isn't blocked, light is green) and make note of the number. Go back to the terminal and follow the directions for checking out a bike. You can actually do this on either side of the terminal, but when we tried it on the side with the map it said he already was using a bike. So we went around the back to the side where we signed up. Change the language to English and then clock on Access the Service.
It will ask for the eight-digit subscription ID code on your receipt, then the 4-digit pass code you made up yourself. Then it will show the bikes which are available at that terminal (if the number you want isn't showing, it means it's broken). Once you've entered the number and it says you're bike is ready, go to the bike and push the silver button on the attachment point (next to the bike number and the glowing green light). The button doesn't actually seem to move, but you'll hear the click of the bike releasing from the lock. You may have to pull fairly hard to get it out. Adjust the seat and make sure the brakes work before you go flying down a hill into traffic. Et voila!
Gears not Shifting?
If your bike is broken, don't forget to turn the seat around when you plug it back in as a signal to other riders that it's broken. Also, if you're switching bikes because you've run out of time (30 minutes max unless you don't mind paying the incremental fees for going over time) or because of a broken bike that can't be ridden at all, you often have to wait 5 minutes before your subscription is "active" again to get another bike. Be patient.
Ride safely!
I know none of your are wearing helmets or yellow safety vests, but at least don't forget one rule: never ride up between a large vehicle like a truck or bus and the sidewalk just before an intersection, because they may not see you when turning right and you'll get squashed. Stay behind or pass on the left so the drivers can see you. I know it's no fun sucking on exhaust fumes, but you'll have to bear it until you can get to a less congested area to ride or stick to the separated bike paths all over Paris.
Download the App
The free Vélib app for Android, Windows phone and iPhone is handy for finding both available bikes and available parking spaces without needlessly wandering from station to station.
I went on one of the first dry nights of May and there was a pretty large crowd, but plenty of space to find a seat. Dining options include Italian (and pizzas), Korean Bibimbap, Argintinean BBQ, gluten-free tea room, Belgian waffels, burgers, and hot dogs.
When you enter you'll see the outdoor lounge space and gardens overlooking the trains.
These areas outside fill up quickly, getthere before 7pm for a good spot.
The Italian eatery in one of the indoor halls.
Train decor throughout the Grand Train space.
I like the little lites strung up in the courtyards, although it's barely dark when Grand Train closes at 11pm in July!
You can bring your food into this dining car. Screens next to it have landscape whizzing by like you're moving.
One of the indoor dining areas.
There are also a few model trains set up between the restaurants.
The epicerie and food shop.
Yet another courtyard...it feels like you're going in circles, but there are several of these.
An exhibit of train worker uniforms over the years.
One of the dozen or so vintage trains (no touching allowed).
The kids' playpen.
Helmut Newcake Gluten-Free goodies.
The food garden (there are also honey bee hives).
Open until October 16th, check the Facebook page for the weekly schedule of special events.
Grand Train
26 ter rue Ordener, 18th
Metro Marcadet-Poissoniers.
Open Wednesday-Sunday from 11am-11pm.
Free entry, consignment fee for the cups at the bars.
Ends October 16th, 2016.
There are four lines with multiple stops: two to Roissy-CDG (€17 one-way), one to Orly (€12 one-way), and one between Roissy-CDG and Orly (€21 one-way). As usual there are stops at Gare de Lyon, Montparnasse, Porte Maillot and Arc de Triomphe, but now there are also stops at Trocadéro, the Eiffel Tower, and La Motte Piquet. The buses have free Wifi and USB plugs at each seat. Open daily 5am-11:40pm, buy your tickets online in advance to save time.
Don't confuse this bus service with the RATP-run RoissyBus (from Opéra for €11 one-way) or OrlyBus (from Denfert Rochereau, €7.70 one-way), which is basically a Paris city bus, so not as comfy but less expensive and possibly closer to where you want to be dropped off in Paris, and you can use your Navigo pass or 5-zone Paris pass.]]>
Another world-class musical in English is playing at the Théâtre du Châtelet this month, wonder.land: the edgy modern-day take on Alice in Wonderland "that explores the blurred boundaries between our online and offline lives." Commissioned in partnership with the Manchester International Festival and the National Theatre, wonder.land uses a combination of live theatre and digital sets, as well as a score is by Damon Albarn (of the British group Blur), to create a very contemporary look at coming-of-age in the 21st century.
Photo Marie-Noëlle Robert
Aly is a modern British girl from a broken home being bullied at school who escapes her difficult life into a virtual world as her avatar, Alice. Here, where suddenly there is color, she meets an entire cast of misfit friends. Until a cruiel teacher confiscates her smartphone...and steals her identity. "Who are you?" the Caterpillar asks, underlining the theme of the story.
Photo Marie-Noëlle Robert
After seeing Sondheim's Passion and then Carmen La Cubana, which I both loved, I didn't think I'd actually like this contemporary "audio-visual" show, but it was surprisingly fun and touching (not sure why I'm still surprised, but my "I don't like musicals" bias is stubbornly hard to kill).
Photo Brinkhoff Mgenburg
Throughout the show I kept changing my mind about who was my favorite character. Aly (Lois Chimimba) and Alice (Carly Bawden) are the stars, but her mother's voice is stunning (Golda Rosheuvel), Mrs. Manxome's evil glee is contagious (Anna Francolini), the and the White Rabbit (Joshua Lacey)...well, who wouldn't want to follow him? Hal Fowler's character actually morphs throughout the show from the MC to the Cheshire Cat to the Caterpillar, with an entire choir for a body.
Photo Marie-Noëlle Robert
Through June 16th, in English with French surtitles. Tickets from €10 to €55.]]>
On the Quai St-Bernard near the Batobus stop for Jardin des Plantes.
The Resto du Coeur (soup kitchen) boat along the Quai St-Bernard back in service.
A bit of gravel and mud along the lower end of the quay.
The little amphitheatres where people dance on summer nights are still underwater. Click for the Instagram video I filmed here.
Quite a bit of mud here, but most of the flowering shrubs on the right seem to have weathered the submersion without problem.
Municipal gardeners are out planting the summer annuals now that the rain has stopped.
Closer to Notre Dame Cathedral, the water is still above the lowest paths along the quays.
You can see here on the right the benches peeking out from the water, which is still knee-high here across from the Ile-St-Louis. Note that the only roads that flooded in Paris were these auxiliary quays along the water. The Seine never rose above that wall on the left. Click the photo for the second video from Instagram.
This photo taken from the Théâtre du Châtelet Sunday night shows the first rays of sun shining on Notre Dame in the early evening. You can see more clearly here the pedestrian path along the river is still flooded, but the water, even at its highest level, never got close to the top of the main wall protecting the city (where you see all of the cars, buses, pedestrians).
Some cellars and the RER C, which runs rights along the river, were infiltrated by water, but the museums didn't suffer any flooding, even though as a precaution they closed for the weekend while moving crates of art works from lower level storage into the upper galleries. Sunshine predicted in Paris through Saturday, we should be back to normal in no time!]]>
They are looking for extras available for 1-10 days of filming between July 25th through August 31st, with at least one half day available for wardrobe between July 4th and July 22nd. Payment follows standard French film industry rates for extras. The following profiles are needed:
You need to be legally able to work in France (ie you need a French Social Secutiry number) and fluent enough in French to read and fill out the application...and obviously follow directions.
Click here to apply]]>
Wednesday the 25th May, with the Travel Writing Workshop participants at the Marché d'Aligre.
In fact, I've had a half-dozen tours and a week-long travel-writer's workshop over the past two weeks, and none of my clients was inconvenienced by the events (again, except for the rain if they only packed summer clothes). The protest marches get the most press because they look scary and exciting with riot cops throwing tear gas and masked protesters throwing Molotov cocktails. But most Parisians just roll their eyes and go back to smoking on a café terrace; they've seen this before, and it always blows over.
Capturing the absurdity of the situation perfectly, freeze this news video below of the protests at 1:46 and you'll see a colorfully-dressed man on the right of the screen who's obviously having a good time posing for the cameras (although I now realize he was just trying to warn us all of the coming floods).
You can watch a longer video here showing that same protest march, in the 6th arrondissement, where for over an hour the riot police and the workers' union protesters (the ones with red flags and armbands) are throwing tear gas canisters, fireworks and flares back and forth. For you Americans out there, keep in mind that despite the scary-looking mob, ONLY the police have guns. No one else has guns. That's probably why you'll also notice in every shot there are spectators watching from the sidelines, more excited to record the "action" on their smartphones than worried about actually getting hurt. At 4:08 you see tourists inside La Rotonde taking photos from the windows (until the waiters wisely move them away).
Usually protests marches are a noisy but harmless way for the French to let off some steam. But the police, who make all public protest marches possible by blocking traffic and maintaining order, have been getting so annoyed at the "casseurs" (basically the trouble-makers who show up to any protest march just to pick fights and break stuff, as well as the growing violence of the union protesters) that they held their own protest the next day. In this Associated Press video below note how the cop whose car has been attacked and set on fire with two officers inside doesn't even bother to un-holster his gun in the face of the idiot who's still swinging a metal rod at him (five protesters have been identified and arrested since then).
To sum it up, as I wrote in Newsletter #68 during the "riots" of 2006, "Don't worry about canceling your trip to Paris until you see me posting photos of my airlift to safety from the roof of the American Embassy."]]>
The Protection Civile de Paris, or PCP, is a non-profit, volunteer-based organization of first-aid responders in Paris. You might notice their presence in the blue and orange uniforms manning first-aid posts at public events like music festivals or sporting events. They also reinforce fire department paramedics and SAMU ambulances by acting as first-responders for emergency medical calls, natural disasters, and first-aid assistance for the homeless. There are over 600 volunteers of all ages and professions currently serving in the PCP.
They also educate the public by offering beginner and advanced first-aid certification courses (including PSC1, PSE1 and PSE2). I took the PSC1 (Prévention Secours Civiques) last weekend in my neighborhood and not only learned about how to use the emergency heart defibrillators found in most public building in Paris, but also how to assist the most common medical emergencies, including how to properly make an emergency call.
For example, 18 will get you the fire department paramedics (they can stabilize someone and get them to a hospital), while 15 will get you the SAMU, which sends the doctor directly to you (with an ambulance if needed). All numbers, including 17 for the police, go to the same central switchboard, so it's not actually a big deal if you can't recall which number to dial or aren't sure, but it's faster if you do. Don't speak French? Dial 112 anywhere within Europe and you'll get an emergency switchboard available in every EU language (including English). Best of all, these numbers work for free on any phone, even if they're locked or out of network range (the emergency network is separate).
I highly recommend taking a class to brush up on your Heimlich maneuver and CPR skills, and also to learn some very important vocabulary you'll never need until you really need it: a stroke in French is an "accident vasculaire cérébral" (or AVC).]]>
On April 12th the American singer Will.i.am (one of the founding members of the Black Eyed Peas) released this music video reinterpreting his song "Mona Lisa Smile" from his album #Willpower. Set in the Louvre, it features the singer Nicole Scherzinger as La Jaconde, and Will.i.am in over a dozen of the museum's most famous paintings. How many can you identify?
And for those of you who know the Louvre well, you'll quickly realize the wall with the Mona Lisa on it (which should be in Salle 6), is actually superimposed into another gallery of paintings with red walls. Can you guess which one? (hint: look at the ceiling)
This video isn't just a one-off gimmick by the singer, he's actually been planning this for several years. According to the Louvre website:
"This remarkable and unprecedented collaboration is the fruit of many years of work. In 2010, the Louvre welcomed a production team from New York to film a documentary that was part of the "Visionaries" series. This episode was devoted to will.i.am and used to launch Oprah Winfrey's TV channel, OWN. Deeply inspired by his visit to the world's largest museum, will.i.am tapped into the experience to create a video for the song "Mona Lisa Smile." But the creative juices didn't stop there: the artist sought to perpetuate, and especially share with others, his great appreciation for the museum by producing a documentary on the newly renovated rooms of the Department of Decorative Arts and the surrounding galleries."
After this Will.i.am was inspired to film a 12-minute documentary called "Will.i.am at the Louvre", a sort of "Highlights of the Louvre" tour with the editor of Wired UK and the curator of the Decorative Arts department (where he falls in love with an elaborate 18th-century clock). This is a great little video to watch if you're hesitant to visit the Louvre, because it shows how it's so much more than just paintings and the Mona Lisa.
will.i.am at the Louvre by Off
The funniest quote is when he's in the stunning (and highly gilded) Napoléon III Apartments, and his guide infers that it must look like the interior of many hip-hop moguls houses, and Will.i.am responds, "Oh no, we don't do it like this. They put the gold in their teeth." But generally it's a great documentary about how art is still important to today's culture. You'll also learn the meaning of the fabulous French phrase, l'esprit de l'escalier.
You can follow Will.i.am's Louvre tour yourself here.]]>
In the latest episode of heartbreak and disgust, the world's largest reseller of tours is promoting vandalism tours, and the beautiful bridge overlooking the 863-year-old Notre Dame Cathedral is completely covered in ugly scaffolding after its railing were destroyed by the rusting padlocks known as "Love Locks".
Le Pont de l'Archevêché behind Notre Dame, behind scaffolding until late summer 2016 because of the rusting padlocks.
Are you as sick of reading about the destructive "love locks" as I am writing about them? Unfortunately until tourists stop attaching padlocks to the city's historic bridges and monuments, I'm going to keep reminding you (and I'm hoping you'll pass it on to your friends and family and colleagues when they travel to Paris).
Despite the massive, ongoing efforts of the Mayor of Paris and citizen campaigns like No Love Locks, there are still idiots attaching padlocks anywhere they feel like it. Yesterday I discovered by chance that Viator is now marketing a vandalism tour where couples pay €120 per person for the "Love Locks Workshop while Drinking Champagne". On this "tour" they get to choose and customize a padlock while drinking Champagne, then "when your Love Lock is ready your guides will conduct you to hang it up on the poetic Pont de l'Archevêché, where there's a great view of Notre Dame." I almost threw up reading this. Viator, owned by TripAdvisor, is the largest reseller of tours in the world. As I mentioned in my article What You Don't Know about TripAdvisor (which now has 80k views!), Viator lets anyone post any tour at all without verifying legality, let alone legitimacy. There is no way to flag the tour, nor a "contact" link to ask Viator to remove it. The "guide" Eléonore Chevallier and her husband also have a Facebook page promoting the destructive tours.
View of the Pont de l'Archevêché from the Left Bank, covered in scaffolding.
The little red heart up at the top of this sign says "Our bridges can no longer withstand your gestures of love. No more love locks!"
The most distressing thing is that the railings of the specific bridge they mention has been completely ripped out because of the damage and are now under scaffolding. The pictures above are from this weekend, and the ones below from last summer.
The Pont de l'Archevêché covered in rusting padlocks and graffiti, from summer 2015.
Unfortunately each time the City of Paris finds a way to prevent padlocks from being attached to a bridge, the vandals just find a new place to attach them: I noticed there are now padlocks being attached to the fencing in front of the Cathedral. Disgusting!
Speak out against this horrific practice, and please tell your friends visiting Paris not to participate in the destruction of this beautiful city!]]>
You can see sky through the finished section on the left. They still had the other side of the bridge to liberate...but how to keep idiot vandals from adding more locks all over again? Unlike the Pont des Arts, the architecture of thin metal wires on the Passerelle Léopold-Sédar-Senghor doesn't allow for the Plexiglas panels that prevent padlocks from being attached.
If you're interested in more news about the destructive "Love Locks" that are ruining the beautiful historical bridges of Paris, check out the No Love Locks website.]]>
In early 2013 I received an email from an author asking me if I could possibly arrange a research trip for him in and around Paris. I received a lot of similar requests over the years, usually from authors writing historic fiction or romance novels. My Naughty Paris Guide, first published in 2008, had apparently been quite useful for the latter. But Mark Sullivan writes mystery and suspense thrillers. For this particular trip he was researching Private Paris, the latest book in a crime detective series he co-authors with James Patterson (for those of you aren't acquainted with the genre, James Patterson has written 114 New York Times bestselling novels and has sold more books than those of Stephen King, John Grisham and Dan Brown combined). In this particular series they have already published Private Berlin, Private Games, and Private LA.
Almost exactly three years after the research tour, Private Paris finally launched on March 15th and is already a New York Times #1 bestseller. Now that I can finally share a bit of the behind-the-scenes preparation that went into the novel, I spoke with Mark over the phone to get his take on how on-the-ground research made a difference in the final result.
He had a long list of places he needed to visit, places that would figure prominently in the thriller. The ritzy hotel where the detective would stay, the Paris police headquarters where he'd be working with local law enforcement, about a dozen murder locations in high-profile monuments, and of course the villain's lair where everything goes down.
"We draft the outline long before I go on a research trip," said Mark. "I have to read up on the current events of the destination, and for Paris it was the riots in the suburbs which intrigued me the most as a reporter, not to mention a novelist. It just seemed to me, and to Jim, like the Paris suburbs were a ticking time bomb for France."
Which is how I ended up with Mark on the rather scruffy RER B one April morning in 2013. I asked a local expert to accompany us for some extra insights, who convinced us to take the RER instead of a private driver to give Mark a good idea of what it means to live in the ugly 'burbs. The infamous riots of 2005 turned many of the cars and storefronts in the neighborhoods around Sevran into charred, smoking shells. Although cleaned up in the ensuing eight years, it's still not the most attractive place I've taken clients on tour. We exited the RER just outside an ugly shopping mall surrounded by cracked pavement and weeds, the residential towers of Les Bosquets looming just behind. I hate to promote stereotypes, especially since we went looking for "bad" (and you usually find what you're looking for), but within five minutes of arrival we witnessed one police chase on foot and another police patrol pulling over a car going the wrong way down a one-way street. "You get the idea?" I finally ask. In my patent loafers and pressed trousers, my usual work clothes, I knew I was probably overdressed. Not that it mattered. We were going to stick out no matter how we dressed. Normally this wouldn't concern me too much except I had just read how the day before a French news crew was attacked by the local disgruntled youth while covering a story of a syringe found in a neighborhood playground. In the end no one bothered us (it probably didn't hurt that Mark is a rather tall Crossfit enthusiast).
"Going on the train out to Les Bosquets really helped me a lot when we were writing the parts of the book set in that neighborhood," explained Mark, so it was all worthwhile.
Although educational, the rest of the week's visits were far more interesting. Mark was very methodical in his research, and not only needed visits to very specific places, but also meetings with very specific people. It took an amazing amount of organization and three assistants to arrange the schedule and set up interviews with high-ranking officials at the Ecole de Guerre, the Police Judiciaire, the Institut de France, the Ecole des Beaux Arts, and the Palais Garnier.
With Mark Sullivan and the representatives of the Police Judiciare at the Palais de Justice.
Luckily, Parisians love writers, and many of them already knew James Patterson's books, so I was pleasantly surprised that not only were we not refused anywhere, but were given the VIP welcome in many cases. We got a tour of 36 Quai des Orfèvres, met several Parisian fashion designers in their ateliers, got a demonstration from a Parkour specialist, watched a Michelin-starred chef and his team in action, and explored the layout of one of the city's famous swinger's clubs, Les Chandelles.
In each location Mark would explain the plot of the thriller in his not-so-bad Franglais (he'd been in the Peace Corps in French-speaking African countries). Then he would check with the interviewees that his characters were acting accordingly, that there were no major errors in his presumptions or plot twists, and that the locations matched up with what he and James had envisioned when they created the rough draft back in the US.
"The fashion designer (Emeyric François) really gave me a view into the world of Saudi princesses that I knew nothing about before our meeting, so that was a surprise," says Mark. He and Patterson were later able to integrate it into a minor subplot which makes sense in the overall theme of the book, while the character Lille Fleures was based on another designer Stephanie Coudert, and her all-gray Belleville atelier.
Another important visit was inside the dome of the famous Institut de France. "I could see how it would be viewed from the Louvre across the river, and got a better understanding of the dramatic impact it would have for the dome of the Institut to be covered with a graffiti tag," said Mark, referring to the "calling card" the murderer graffiti'd onto each murder scene.
When necessary I translated, but mostly I was there to make sure we stuck to the schedule and had the driver and contacts lined up for each day. At the Police Judiciaire, the famous 36 Quai des Orfèvres that Inspector Maigret fans will recognize, we actually had a special liaison detective from NYPD, Nicolas, who translated all of the complexities of the French police procedures. "It was helpful talking to them about what would take place after a murder in France," says Mark. "For example, I had no idea until Nic told me about there being a judge assigned to the case from the start. If I didn't know that I would have written an incorrect description of how a criminal investigation in France takes place."
Mark Sullivan and the Brigade Criminelle on the roof of 36 Quai des Orfèvres...killer views!
Mark took a ton of notes, and for several weeks after the tour he would send me follow-up questions. At one point I got an email asking if I could go have a look at the back of the Opéra Garnier to see where someone could sneak in. I felt like a spy myself, checking out the height of the fence, the placement of the security cameras (doing this during morning runs was a handy cover). A few months later I got a very rough draft and made a few notes about anything I thought might not work in the real world in Paris, but it was pretty awesome to see the places we'd visited brought to life (or death, considering the gruesome murders).
Already familiar with the long road of publishing, I didn't expect to see Private Paris hit the shelves before 2015. But then the Charlie Hebdo attacks happened that January, and they decided – considering the unfortunate echo of the book's plot – to make a small reference to the incident in the book. I think this is important to point out, because doubtless there will be a few people who think Mark and James simply capitalized on current events in Paris, but the book was essentially finished in 2014. It was already in print by the November 2015 attacks, so there is no mention of that in the novel. "We can never stay ahead of that stuff, I just made sure it was as up to date as I could get it," explained Mark. I won't give away the plot twist, but it is a bit spooky how reality sometimes follows fiction!
I'm not normally into thrillers, but I love reading books set in Paris. Unless they get it "wrong", and so many do simply because the author didn't do their homework (yeah, I'm looking at you, Dan Brown), then I can't be bothered to finish it. But Private Paris gets it right. Unless the editors changed things around in the final version (still waiting for my copy to arrive), this is the real deal, an authentic peek into the highlife and the lowlife of the City of Light!]]>
Not this one, a replica of the Statue of Liberty flame seen peeking out over the Pont de l'Alma on the Right Bank.
The girl's grandfather then says, "Not that one, the big thing that looks like a gold dome across the other side of the bridge?" I turn around to see what they're talking about, and suddenly remember talk of the new Russian Orthodox Cathedral being built there. It has been an enormous construction site for the past few years, but last month they placed the first of five golden onion-style domes -- typical of Russian Orthodox churches -- that will grace the final monument housing a bilingual school, church and cultural center. As it's just a few blocks from the Eiffel Tower, it will be hard to miss this gilded addition to the Parisian skyline. And yes, before they added the cross it did indeed look like a giant golden Hershey Kiss.
From the architect's website Wilmotte & Associés; the Russian Orthodox cathedral being built on the Left Bank. Only the largest dome is currently in place.
You can see more images here on the architect's website.]]>
Back in the fall Parisians welcomed a rather unique vessel on the Seine, the three-masted schooner La Boudeuse, constructed in Holland in 1916. The 46-meter ship with 13 sails has explored all seven of the world's seas and has a fascinating history:
"La Boudeuse » is one of the rare French three-masted schooners still in use and the only one to sail on long journeys on all the seas around the world. It is dedicated to the pursuit of discovery, adventure and science, in the spirit of the great maritime and land expeditions of the Enlightenment. For this reason, a certain number of writers, philosophers, painters, scientists and photographers are part of the crew.
The captain of « La Boudeuse » and the project initiator is Patrice Franceschi, sailor, writer, explorer, member of the French Society of the Philosophy of Science and Honorary President of the Society of French Explorers…"
Read more about the schooner and its world mission here
La Boudeuse was in Paris for the COP21 Climate Change conference, meant to leave in January for a new adventure. But for the moment it's still moored along Les Berges of the Rive Gauche in the Port du Gros Caillou (aka Quai d'Orsay, 7th), and the general public is welcome to visit for free every Saturday (unless noted on their website), hourly tours are conducted from 10am through 4pm.]]>
The little screen on the Timescope indicated that you needed to enter the code purchased online with a credit card. So another few minutes of finding the website and paying on my smartphone, we finally got a minute of time to look. We started out in the 15th century, but it was just grassy fields and the city wall. Then in 1789 century we could see what the fortress looked like just before the Revolution tore it down as you pan the Timescope across the Place de la Bastille. You can get an idea from this video (use your cursor to move the view on the video). It's supposed to be an "immersive virtual reality experience". Hmmm. See more images on the City of Paris website.
It's interesting…but I'm not sure it's worth the two euros and the fuss of having to pay online and enter the code. It would be easier if it had the simple credit card swipe capabilities like some snack machines in the metro. If you understand French, you can see the Timescope creators being interviewed about it and their plans on expanding to other monuments. Note that the English version doesn't seem to be working yet, so you'll have to follow the directions in French. Needless to say, I'm more enthusiastic about Le Chocolat than this gimmicky time machine. ;-)]]>
Even though the winning bakery is in the 6th arrondissement (in a rather average neighborhood bakery, surprisingly), have a look at the official Top Ten winners:
1) Boulangerie La Parisienne, 48 rue Madame, 6th
2) Fournil de Lourmel, 121 Avenue Felix Faure, 15th
3) Le Grenier à Pain Saint-Amand, 33 bis Rue Saint-Amand, 15th
4) Boulangerie Alexine, 40 rue Lepic 18th
5) Boulangerie l'Essentiel Blanqui, 73 boulevard Auguste Blanqui, 13th
6) Doucers et Traditions, 85 Rue Saint-Dominique, 7th
7) La Flûte Enchantée, 104 rue du Faubourg St-Antoine, 12th
8) Brun Boulangerie, 193 rue de Tolbiac 13th
9) Le Grenier à Pain Italie, 52 avenue d'Italie, 13th
10) l'Académie du Pain, 30 Rue d'Alésia, 14th
Not only are 80% of the winners on the Left Bank (go Rive Gauche!), the largest number of them, three out of ten, are from the 13th arrondissement. And for those of you -- especially the long-time Parisians who should know better -- think this means they're Chinese bakeries, you'd be mistaken. Only a very small section of the very large 13th is "Chinatown". The winning bakeries are all in my neighborhood, at the foot of the Butte aux Cailles and just outside the Italie 2 shopping mall. Personally, I think the one from Le Grenier à Pain is my favorite (pictured on the left with the baguette from l'Essentiel; Brun is closed Tuesday and Wednesday so I didn't get one from there), but I usually get my bread right at the Huré Boulangerie at Place d'Italie or the Boulangerie du Monge at the bottom of my street.
I should mention that there were only about 150 entries (out of approximately 1200 bakeries in Paris), and half of them were disqualified for not measuring up to the exact length and weight requirements. So honestly this is just a list of the Top Ten Baguettes of those who participated and followed the rules. There may be excellent -- or even better -- baguettes in any other random bakery in Paris. So before you go out of your way to visit La Parisienne in the 6th, you should probably know no Parisian would ever go out of their way for a baguette except in extreme circumstances (it's August and their regular spot is closed, or they moved to a new neighborhood and miss their old boulangère).
The prize will be awarded officially by the Mayor Anne Hidalgo at the 21st annual Fête du Pain on the square in front of Notre Dame Cathedral from May 21-30, 2016.
If you're curious about how the competition is conducted here is an excellent write up from one of this year's judges, our very own expat blogger Jennifer of Chez Loulou: A Taste of Life in France.]]>
As a result he often had to improvise based on rumors, assuring Louis XVI's ministers, that "Yes, of course the Revolutionaries are winning the war!" even though the English ambassador at Versailles was busy spreading his own rumors of an imminent defeat of the colonial rebellion. Franklin's persuasive powers eventually saved the day, securing France's monetary and military assistance when it was needed most.
It's hard for today's American expatriates to fathom the lives of our forbearers who lived in France before the internet, commercial airlines, the telephone, or even the telegraph, completely cut off from their homeland for months at a time. When I first arrived in Paris as a student in 1995, France's communications industry was suffering from a full blown identity crisis. They seemed both behind and ahead of the US, determined to modernize but only on their own Gallic terms.
The Telephone
I lived with another American student in a little garret apartment that belonged to my "French family" on the floor below. We had a phone, but Madame made it very clear that local calls were not free, something that came as a surprise to Americans used to long conversations about nothing with our friends every night. Our personal phone wasn't even equipped with long-distance, which in 1995 was still considered so expensive that some people still sent telegrams (Western Union was still sending an average of 20,000 telegrams per year when they officially closed the service in 2006). So we had to buy international calling cards from the tabac and use them at a phone booth. The equivalent of $20 would get you about 20 minutes of time, and I remember desperately watching the units of credit on the little digital screen tick down as I tried catching up with my mom and my boyfriend back home before getting cut off. When I was looking for my own flat in 1997 it was still common to wait two months for France Telecom to open a new phone connection, so most expats had to double check that any short-term rental already had a working line. Today most French residents either have a landline through their home computer network (the "09" numbers which are often masked as "01" numbers, although they don't work if your electricity goes out), or they don't have a landline at all, preferring to use their mobile phone.
Mobile Phones
In 1995 I didn't know any students who had a cell phone (and beepers were still for doctors or drug dealers). In the French comedy film Rien à Déclarer, Dany Boone plays a border police officer in 1995 who has one of those enormous cell phones the size of your head with the extendable antenna. Once I was at a café with a few French classmates when Félix, who liked to wear suits, smoke cigars and pepper his French with as many English words as possible, casually placed what looked like a cell phone on the table. I eyeballed it in curiosity but was still so timid speaking French that I didn't say anything. When it rang, Félix grabbed it from the table and rushed outside, loudly yelling "Allo! Tu m'entends?!" As soon as the door closed behind him one of the other Parisians dismissively snorted and then said to me, "It's just a bi-bop, he thinks he's hot shit". The Bi-Bop was France Telecom's alternative to the GSM cell phone, and worked only in close proximity (300m) to one of the 3000 radio transmission terminals throughout the city (usually lamp posts with the blue and green symbol seen below), a bit like the way WiFi works today. They only lasted from 1991-1997 when GSM phone service won out. Watch this funny French commercial promoting the BiBop.
The Internet
By 1995 the internet existed, but it was still predominantly used by those who used it for work or by university students. There were no laptops yet, but there were plenty of "cyber" cafés in Paris. My favorite was in a building on top of the Galeries Lafayette store at Montparnasse. It wasn't always the most convenient place to work. I recall trying to figure out how to connect to my university's telnet network so I could check my email (this was before internet-based email like Gmail and Hotmail) while the legendary protest marches of fall 1995 were taking place in the huge square below. In the evenings the cybercafé doubled as a nightclub, so they would dim the lights and turn up the dance music even though there would still be a half dozen glowing screens around the room. As far as websites, France was very much late to the game. When I started the Secrets of Paris in 1999, there were still only two other websites about Paris in English besides the Tourism Office website. It was still not considered a necessity for a business to have a website in France at that time, and was even looked down on as "tacky". When I worked as an editor at ELLE.com in 1999 (the fashion magazine's first website, run from publisher Hachette's headquarters just outside Paris), I clearly recall how the French ELLE magazine editors would totally ignore us in the office cafeteria. We were "just the website".
The Minitel
Like the Bi-bop, France also had its own alternative to the internet, the Minitel. This was a small terminal, halfway between a computer and a laptop, that plugged into your phone line giving users access to all kinds of digitized databases (telephone directories, stock prices , mail order catalogs) as well as online shopping, train reservation services, and message boards for chatting (the Pages Roses were the infamous sex chat pages). You could rent a terminal from France Telecom in your own house or use them at the post office. I tried it once to look up an address but couldn't get past the black screen with green text, like something out of Tron. There were no images, something the Internet already made possible. Created in 1982, the Minitel service still had 10 million monthly users as late as 2009 (I personally never saw one after 1999, so I had to double-check that stat!). In 2012 it was officially put to pasture. Here is an excellent article about the Minitel in English.
Modern Expat Life
We can mock the French for the Bi-Bop and the Minitel, but some Americans are old enough to remember whose parents bought Beta instead of VHS, or installed an 8-track player instead of the cassette player in the family car. Technology in the age of globalization means that now you can easily travel with your phone and laptop between continents with little more than plug converters or roaming fees to slow you down. In the surprisingly funny teen comedy Eurotrip, about a group of Americans students on a misadventure throughout Europe, there's a running gag where one of them uses his cell phone to pretend he's still at work back in the US:
Cooper: [in London, answers his cell phone] Cooper here. Hello Mr. Walters. Uh, yes sir, I'm down in file storage. Oh, just hang on one second.
[lowers phone, picks teeth, puts phone back to ear]
Cooper: No, sir, I can't find the Goodwin file anywhere. Yes sir, I'll keep looking. I don't rest until I find it.
[hangs up]
Scott: You didn't tell your boss you were leaving the country?
Cooper: They would have stopped paying me. Seemed easier.
I know a lot of people get annoyed at the idea of being connected while on vacation, but reliable cell phone connections now make it possible for some executives to take real vacations without going completely offline, which for many used to mean no overseas vacation at all. I've had tour clients who are listening to conference calls on mute as we stroll past medieval monuments. "They think I'm in Virginia!" Expats often bemoan how everything in Paris costs more, but my cell phone contract is just €19.99/month, for 3Go of data and unlimited texts, local calls and international calls (and I can cancel any time). That's less than the international calling cards I used to buy 20 years ago! So much can be done online now in France, such as downloading an official birth record or paying taxes, that I can't help but laugh when newcomers (or those who haven't lived here since the 90s) complain about complicated French bureaucracy.
My own career as a freelance journalist and an independent tour guide would have been virtually impossible before the internet. I'm convinced that if I had been a student in Paris in 1985 instead of 1995 that I would have returned home for work after graduation. The fact that I could easily find and write for many different English-language websites made it easy for me to stay in Paris without a "real job". Starting my own tour business would have been a lot harder if I didn't already have a following of Francophile readers on my website. And websites that everybody loves to hate like Facebook not only allow me to easily follow the news of my friends and family back in the US, I've actually become closer to cousins I never saw growing up because we were on different sides of the country. Like everyone else in the busy modern world, I sometimes consider throwing my cell phone into the Seine. But then I remember what it was like to show up at a friend's for dinner on a cold, rainy night only to realize I lost the code, and ended up having to going all the way back home to get it. Or I think of how Ben Franklin -- so desperate for even a sliver of important news from home – would have probably taken to modern technology like a social networking pro.
From Ben Franklin's Twitter feed, circa 1777:
@BFranklin13: Early 2 bed early 2 rise for tomorrow's long ride to Versailles, "networking" lunch w/le roi. #showmethemoney #lovemyjob #gopatriots
My naked fish (perfectly cooked, but inexpertly mutilated by me...had to cover his eyes).
I had heard good things about Jane Drotter's East Parisian restaurant Yard, but knowing it was built by the same family (in a former construction yard), I finally made a reservation to check it out last week. I went with another friend who told me the chef Nye Smith was famous for his offal at St John's in London, so I wasn't surprised to see game and fish on the menu (pigeon, deer heart salad, rabbit, and whole dorade cooked in salt). The gnocchi starter in a doe ragout was so good I considered ordering it again as a main dish. The large scoop of pure chocolate ganache for dessert was the perfect ending. For a former industrial space near Père Lachaise, it's surprisingly small, seating maybe 20-25 people max, and with an open kitchen it quickly gets very noisy. I look forward to trying out the Back Yard (tapas and wine bar next door) when the weather improves and I can sit on the terrace. If you go, be sure to reserve in advance. Yard : 6 rue de Mont-Louis, 11th, M° Philippe Auguste, tel 01 40 09 70 30. More reviews on The Paris Kitchen, Le Fooding, and in French from Gilles Pudlowski
This pretty photo is from Freddy's FB page, my own photos are just full of blurry people.
Freddy's in St-Germain-des-Prés is a great little wine bar across from Fish La Boissonerie and next to Semilla, all owned by the same owners. Freddy's is different in that you can't reserve, so you just show up and find a free barstool. They don't serve full meals but tapas-style dishes, oysters in season (currently a "low tide" special 3-6pm, late of oysters and glass of wine for €10.50), and even though Le Fooding is right about there being no coffee, there is indeed dessert. I think the best spot (ie least cramped) is right by the front door at the bar, so you can people-watch in the bar and out on the street at the same time. Freddy's, 54 rue de Seine, 6th, M° Mabillon. Open daily noon until midnight. A great review of the dishes from Patricia Wells.
Krügen photos from their FB Page (and with Lindsey Tramuta at the Insidr event)
I went to Krügen Crêperie (58 rue de la Fontaine-au-Roi, 11th, M° Goncourt) last month for an event hosted by Insidr (smartphone rental and Paris guide, who incidentally just announced a sweepstakes today to win a free week in a luxury apartment in Paris). It's on an East Parisian street which ten years ago was pretty seedy but now is full of cool little shops and cafés (including the Steel bike shop and café, and L'Epicerie Végétale). Krügen is a contemporary crêperies and epicerie selling gourmet products sourced direct from Brittany. There's a strong surf theme because the owners are also big surfers on the "South Bzh Coast" (BZH is short for Breizh, or Brittany). Hearty crepes, sausages, potatoes…this is not your typical crepe stand (which is good if you're sick of the Jambon-Fromage/Banane-Nutella routine). Here's a review by Baci di Dama Gluten Free Living and nice photos from LuckyMiam. I'm guessing reservations aren't a must, but if you're crossing town and have more than two people it's always a good idea. Tel 09 52 29 78 79. Note that the Rue Roi-au-Fontaine will be completely "végétalisée" (greened) this weekend as part of the 48 Heures de l'Agriculture Urbaine, perhaps a great time to check it out!]]>
Sondheim is one of the greats of the musical theatre genre (with eight Tony awards, an Oscar, eight Grammy awards, and a Pulitzer, among others), and creator of A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum, A Little Night Music, Sweeney Todd, Sunday in the Park with George and Into the Woods. He also wrote the lyrics for West Side Story. After 280 performances on Broadway in 1994-1995, Passion became the shortest-running show to win a Tony Award for Best Musical. At least that's what I read online.
Before we go any further, a confession: I'm not usually a fan of Broadway musicals. Or any musicals, for that matter. I grew up on Disney movies, but I always felt the songs were just long interruptions of the story. I only sat through the latest film version of Les Miserables because I'll watch Hugh Jackman and Russel Crowe do anything, even sing (although I considered skipping out early when Anne Hathaway came back from the dead to sing again). Needless to say, my gay friends barely tolerate my musical theatre ignorance. It hasn't put a damper on my journalistic curiosity, though.
Fosca, Giorgio and Clara in Passion.
Photo courtesy Théâtre du Châtelet, copyright Marie-Noëlle Robert
A few years ago the British theatre production of Les Miserables, which is one of the longest running musicals in history, was being performed in Paris for its 25th anniversary, in English with French surtitles. "Why isn't it playing all of the time in Paris, like Cats on Broadway?" I asked some of my French friends. It's Victor Hugo, after all! They seemed to think it wasn't a very interesting idea. Maybe because they had been traumatized from having to read the enormous book as school kids. Well, surely the tourists would go, right?
But it seems it's not a question of whether or not people would go, but a question of reputation. According to an article written by avid musical fanatic Bryan Pirolli, the French theatre world didn't historically think too highly of the Broadway musical genre, with productions "playing in the same venue as the Harlem Globetrotters or the Blue Man Group". The Théâtre Mogador in Paris has shown productions of popular commercial musicals such as The Lion King and Sister Act, but only in French. And none of my readers or tour clients ever asked me about getting tickets to those shows. It seemed Paris just wasn't the place to go for theatre. At least not for English-speaking tourists.
Photo courtesy Théâtre du Châtelet, copyright Gilles Alonso.
But over the course of the last decade, the prestigious Théâtre du Châtelet has changed that. Bryan's article explains how in 2006 the new general director Jean-Luc Choplin made it his mission to introduce the grand Broadway classics to skeptical Parisian audiences, in English with French surtitles. The daring gamble paid off. Even for someone without musical theatre on my radar, I couldn't help but notice the buzz around the sold-out performances of The Sound of Music, My Fair Lady and Sweeney Todd. I even tried – in vain – to get tickets to the world premier musical production of An American in Paris, based on the classic film starring Gene Kelly. Like the French, I have to admit I was only willing to take a chance on the musical because it was being performed at the Châtelet.
There are many illustrious theatres and opera houses in Paris, but the Théâtre du Châtelet is one of the most beautiful, something you'd never guess from the rather sedate Second Empire exterior that blends in with the surrounding Haussmann-style buildings. Opened in 1862, the 2,500-seat theatre has a stage measuring 24m x 35m (79ft x 155ft), the largest venue of its kind in Paris at that time. It's renowned for its exceptional sound quality because of the wooden floors, wood-framed seats, and glass domed roof. In addition to plays by Alexandre Dumas and Emile Zola, composers such as Tchaikovsky, Richard Strauss and Debussy conducted their own work in Châtelet, film maker Méliès shot scenes for "The Four Hundred Pranks of the Devil" in 1906, and the Ballet Russes of Monte-Carlo performed in the 1930s. Today the Théâtre du Châtelet continues to offer a packed program of opera, musical, concerts and dance.
I finally got inside last week during rehearsals for the upcoming show Passion, a Châtelet production directed by the French film star Fanny Ardant. This is the fifth Stephen Sondheim musical to be produced at the Châtelet. It's a dark, tragic musical set in a remote, 19th-century military outpost in Italy where the handsome young captain Giorgio, missing his beautiful (but married) mistress Clara, becomes the object of the obsessive passion of his commanding officer's homely and sickly cousin, Fosca. There are no dance numbers and – spoiler alert – there is no happy ending.
But I wasn't there to review the musical. We've already firmly established this author as a non-expert in the realm of musical theatre. I was there to interview one of the cast members, Canadian opera singer Roger Honeywell. Roger is an acclaimed tenor in many American and Canadian companies, recently performing with the Boston Lyric Opera as Danilo in The Merry Widow and with the Santa Fe Opera for the world premiere of Jennifer Higdon's Cold Mountain, in the role of Veasey.
Roger Honeywell (the curly-haired redhead who resembles Will Ferrell) with the cast of Passion. Photo courtesy Théâtre du Châtelet, copyright Marie-Noëlle Robert
In Passion he plays one of the officers, Lieutenant Torasso. "It's just a small role, so I have a bit of free time before rehearsals begin," he said when we first met last month just after he arrived in Paris. He is staying with an uncle who happens to be my friend and neighbor, just off the Rue Mouffetard. So I offered the usual neighborhood tips over tea at the Mosquée de Paris, and since he's a runner and I was still training for the Paris Half-Marathon, we agreed to meet up for a short 5k around the Jardin des Plantes the following week.
I admitted my total musical theatre ignorance upfront, then proceeded to ask a ton of dumb questions, like "What's the difference between opera and musical theatre?" (Basically, in opera every word is sung to music, while musical theatre has talking interspersed with musical numbers) What intrigued me the most, of course, was when he explained how certain things are done differently in France. At one point the subject of intermittents du spectacle (or theatre technicians) came up and Roger made a face. The last time he performed in France was in 2014 for a production of Daphne in Toulouse. Unfortunately a strike demonstration by the intermittents' union blocked the press from attending opening night. "Err..yeah, that's practically a tradition in France," I said, trying not to laugh at the predictability of it. "The rest of the show went well, but the press only comes once," he said, laughing it off.
A 5k run goes by pretty fast when you're chattering along, but I still had questions about Passion. He suggested I come by during the rehearsals and put me in contact with the press agent to get permission. "No photos of the stage or backstage," I repeated in the briefing of the rules. Which is why the photo of the chairs (which are also quite lovely) is the only one inside the theatre that's mine.
Roger met me at the stage door and walked me through the maze of corridors behind the stage until we popped out to the auditorium where a handful of cast and crew were seated or walking around before the rehearsal got started. Fanny Ardant came down from her director's perch in the balcony to say hello to her friend watching from the wings, the French actor Gerard Depardieu.
That Thursday's rehearsal, less than a week before the opening, was with the full orchestra (the Orchestre Philharmonique de Radio France) under the musical direction of Andy Einhorn. "Today is what's called an orchestra staging, so there's a weird power shift," explains Roger. "When it's just the piano, Fanny's in charge, so she can stop anytime she wants and say what she wants fixed. When the orchestra's in the pit, everything changes. If Fanny wants to stop, they'll be a huge fight because it's Andy's rehearsal." Although I witness nothing but calm professionalism, he says it's totally normal for some fireworks to fly during rehearsals. "Then everyone kisses each other at the end of the night. It's a boxing match then we all hug." He laughs when I ask if they're all in an unusually good mood because Paris Saint-Germain (the local soccer team) won their match against Chelsea the night before. "That's right! We were actually in a sitzprobe, so we're all sitting on chairs on the stage singing through it with the orchestra, and the guys were all on their iPads watching the game."
I was hoping to get a peek at the costumes, which Roger excitedly informed me were designed by Milena Canonero (who has won three Oscars for costume design in the films Barry Lyndon, Chariots of Fire and Marie-Antoinette), but it wasn't a dress rehearsal day, so the actors were all in jeans. One exception was Natalie Dessay, who plays Fosca, wearing a hooped skirt over her casual clothes. I almost didn't recognize her from the Passion press images, where the pretty blond opera star has been transformed into an unattractive brunette for the role. When they begin the opening scene Ryan Silverman (as Giorgio) mimes holding Clara in his arms while an understudy sings her role just off-stage until Erica Spyres returns from an errand and quickly takes her place.
Natalie is French, Ryan is Canadian and Erica is American. The director is French and the musical director is American. Roger explains that it's not rare to have mixes of English, Italian, German and French in opera or musical theatre productions. "I can understand stage directions in French," he says. It's fun listening to the mix, like being at a typical expat dinner party. And languages aren't the only things woven together in this Châtelet production.
Apparently the once very distinct worlds of opera and musical theatre are now overlapping. "Their casting is different at Châtelet," says Roger during the break. "They're doing musical theatre, but they're still hiring opera singers." Ryan and Erica are the only performers who come from the world of Broadway, while Natalie and the rest of the cast are from the opera. "It's a fusion of opera and musical theatre, which is happening more and more because audiences for opera are dying, so they're trying to make it more popular," he explains. As the only place that does American-style musicals in Paris, the Théâtre du Châtelet has really carved out a niche for themselves, and now some of these productions are being bought by other opera companies in North America. "That's a double-edged sword," admits Roger. "It's good for musical theatre, but not so good for opera."
Fosca, Giorgio and Clara in Passion.
Photo courtesy Théâtre du Châtelet, copyright Marie-Noëlle Robert
Knowing very little about musical theatre or opera means I also have no expectations or preconceived ideas about how things are "supposed" to be. Take the minimalist set design for Passion. I wouldn't have noticed it at all if Roger hadn't pointed it out. "We have these amazing costumes, but those flies – the backdrops – are just black and grey abstract paintings. In the opera we tend to have more elaborate décor." I tell him I think they match the mood of the production (you can see one of them behind Ryan in this interview). "Maybe I've just been looking at them too long," he replies.
And that would be because they've been in rehearsals for just over five weeks, something that – like the amount of paid vacation French employees get – is more than he's accustomed to. "The process in France is much slower because they have two weeks more preparation time than they do in North America," he says. The extra time just means they have to iron out the final wrinkles without the benefit of instant audience feedback.
Because in the opera – and therefore at Châtelet – there are no previews. "The press don't get to see productions in advance," says Roger as he escorts me through the back stage exit at the end of rehearsal. "In opera we do a dress rehearsal for the public, usually school students, but in musical theatre they'll do two or three weeks of previews so they can make changes, try things out and see what audiences like. It's almost market research. But in opera they don't do that. So this schedule is much more like opera."
In America we say "Break a leg!" to wish someone luck before going onstage, but in the French ballet they say "Merde!", which sounds more like the expletive resulting from breaking a leg after slipping in the aforementioned merde. In any case, here's hoping it translates for musical-theatre-opera fusions, as well: Merde, Roger!
Passion opens at the Théâtre du Châtelet Wednesday night March 16th with seven performances through March 24th (including a Sunday 4pm show). Tickets €16-€89.]]>
For centuries Paris was at the forefront of medical research, and at one time there were a half dozen museums dedicated to its fascinating history, from the earliest hospitals and the fight against contagious diseases to the first medical instruments and preserved anatomical specimens. In 2012 the Musée de l'Assistance Publique (History of the Hospitals of Paris) closed to the public indefinitely (accessible only to researchers or for special occasions such as the Journées du Patrimoine).
On March 25th the little-known Musée Dupuytren will close as well. This small museum dating back to 1835 houses a gruesome collection of medical oddities, diseased brains preserved in jars, deformed skeletons, and wax anatomical models guaranteed to curb your appetite for the rest of the day. It's located in the old refectory of the Cordeliers Convent (now part of the Sorbonne Université Pierre et Marie Curie) at 15 rue de l'Ecole de Médecine, 6th. If you want to visit before the closure, opening hours are Monday-Friday 2-4:30pm. Get there early and expect to wait in line, because of course now everyone wants to see it!
If you don't manage to get in, you can still visit the comparatively tame but larger Musée d'Histoire de la Médecin, opened in 1803 to house a collection of historic medical instruments like the autopsy kit used on Napoléon or the tool used to fix Louis XIV's anal fistula. It's located just across the street (at 12 rue de l'Ecole de Médecine, 6th) on the second floor of the Université Paris Descartes (follow the signs or ask at the welcome desk), open Monday-Wednesday and Friday-Saturday from 2-5:30pm, entry €3.50.
Finally, across town near the Canal St-Martin is the Musée des Moulages at the Hôpital St-Louis, the world's largest collection of wax molds taken of dermatological diseases dating back to the early 19th century. The hospital, which is over 400 years old, conducted some of history's groundbreaking research on skin diseases, notably syphilis (again, not a museum for anyone with a weak stomach). This video is from the museum's campaign to restore the roof. Open Monday-Friday by reservation only (email@example.com), entry €6.
Curious? You can also visit both museums on a Secrets of Paris tour!]]>
To make it super-easy, on Saturday March 26th the Mairie de Paris at Hôtel de Ville, as well as each local arrondissement's town hall, will be hosting free first aid workshops (in French…essential vocabulary!) conducted by the SAMU, Red Cross, and the Pompiers de Paris as part of their annual Samedi Qui Sauve campaign. #samediquisauve
You'll need to register online for the 2-hour classes at your mairie by March 24th (ages 12 and up), or you can simply show up to the Hôtel de Ville where there will be first-aid demonstrations, blood donation tents, Q&A sessions, and a chance to learn about volunteer and career opportunities with the Paris emergency services. And kids can check out the paramedics' trucks!]]>
Please call me Dr. Bryan. Yes, I hold both a master's and a doctoral degree from the Sorbonne in Paris. The Sorbonne, or more generally the University of Paris, has existed for centuries, educating the likes of Victor Hugo and Marie Curie, among others. Most people around the world, at least those in academia, know the name "Sorbonne," which elicits the same sort of reaction as "Harvard" or "Cambridge." I am proud of these degrees, but most importantly, I am happy about their price tag. For five years of graduate study, I probably paid in total about 1500 euros, including registration fees and social security charges.
That's about 1650 US dollars with the current exchange rate. And no, I didn't forget any zeros. The University of Paris system, unlike Harvard, is basically free. This little detail, however, doesn't seem to tarnish its reputation at all.
Within France, going to Sciences Po or ENS, the grandes écoles, basically their version of the Ivy League, will score you better networking possibilities and more respect in the business or political world. The Sorbonne is more like a giant liberal arts college where some students flourish and others attend the first class never to return again. Still, it is a solid educational system that offers students the possibility to learn and to succeed, with a bit of effort. It also allowed me to walk away from my education totally debt free and with money saved up for the next step.
According to government statistics in 2014, the French spend about 29.2 billion euros (31.7 billion USD) on higher education which averages to roughly 11,560 euros (12,554 USD) per student. At most universities, aside from the slightly more expensive grandes écoles, students pay a registration fee that might total 400 euros. At Paris Dauphine, a pretty good school in the capital, the academic year costs students 261 euros in cash. At a grande école like Science Po, a master's degree costs just over 13,000 euros (14,119 USD). That's still not that much.
We can thank the French Revolution for shaking up the education system, but it was a politician named Jules Ferry who finally pushed legislation to make it free almost a century later in 1881. To put things in perspective, Yale University awarded the first American Ph.D. degree in 1861, so it's not surprising that the United States has some catching up to do.
In the US, it's a bit different. Our private universities command enormous fees. A master's at Columbia costs 49,300 USD, not to mention the added costs of living in New York. A master's at a smaller school like Rice still range from 26,000 USD to 50,000 USD. It's no wonder then that on average, graduates in 2015 shoulder about 35,000 USD of debt as they leave their universities, including government and private loans. One study claims that seven out of every ten graduates left college with debt in 2014. I was one of those seven.
The US government does pay quite a bit, with nearly 30 billion dollars in federal Pell Grants and about a billion dollars in federal work study programs. Still, the average Pell Grant awarded in 2014 was only 3673 USD. Remember, that's more than my entire graduate education in France. Moreover, tax subsidies for private universities are often disproportionate to funding for public universities, as described in the Washington Post last year. And then there is the issue of dwindling funding from states.
But I'm not about to launch into a critique of the US education system. At least not from within the US. What I find curious is how many students study abroad, specifically in Paris, and continue to go into debt for it. I, on the other hand, managed to come out of my degrees in the green, with savings to boot.
What a lot of students don't realize is how profit-driven their universities are, and study abroad is a clear reflection of this. I worked for a Paris-based study abroad program where students spent a semester or a year paying full tuitions just like their counterparts in the US. What they got in return were a few in-house classes as well as "the opportunity" to attend classes at the local universities, like the Sorbonne.
I admit I studied abroad in 2006, and I appreciated the experience. Only now, however, do I realize that I was paying 20,000 USD to take classes that cost the French students just 100 euros per semester. Sure, I was getting university credits, but ultimately I was just buying my diploma. There was no reason I needed to go into debt to have those experiences when I could have done it on my own as an independent student, paying much less.
Today, the prices have only gone up. Students at NYU's Paris campus pay 27,188 USD per semester at 16 credits in the Graduate School of Arts and Sciences. The American University in Paris costs 15,102 euros, including fees. Middlebury is around 28,000 USD for a year of study in France, plus a 1500 USD study abroad fee for in-house students. Sure, that's less than the 47,000 dollars they charge for their Vermont campus, but it's still a lot.
I may seem like a whiner, but I would hope that future students would take heed. There are great reasons to study abroad – to learn a new language, to engage with a new culture, to get to know a location. And some study abroad programs facilitate that nicely. But in most cases, studying with other Americans, especially in Paris, often leaves students in their little bubble. And, again, further in debt.
So why not go around the middleman and do it a bit differently? If the idea is to graduate with less debt and study in France, there is hope. Why not accelerate your undergraduate degree (I did my last year part-time to cut costs) and consider pursuing a graduate degree abroad? There are plenty of benefits that most students don't realize.
First, by doing a master's program, you are reducing costs wildly. Beyond the low registration fees, there are other sorts of financial assistance available. Students get affordable transport cards (the imagineR in Paris) and housing assistance (the CAF) that can cover a significant portion of rent each month. And as long as you are a legal resident, these opportunities are available. They require some patience, but hey, this is France.
Second, by entering into a master's program at a French university, you are entering with a new crop of students. This means fewer cliques to break into, unlike undergraduate courses where foreign students are often ignored. I have made some lifelong friends in my master's program because we all came from different places and started at the same time.
Third, you are fully immersed in the language and culture. There are no English-speaking administrators to hold your hand, and most classes are in French – though some degrees do exist in English. The other students are all speaking French, and you'll be expected to write papers and exams in French, though most professors are kind enough to let you use a dictionary if you are a foreign student. If you want to improve your French, then throw yourself into a graduate degree and you should become fluent in no time.
Finally, you can actually make money by doing your post-graduate degrees. Between the housing assistance and other scholarships available, there are also salaried positions, like the contrat doctoral, that I nabbed during my PhD. Essentially, I was fully funded during three years. I received a full-time salary that even opened me up to unemployment benefits afterwards if I wanted. And then of course there are teaching possibilities beyond simply teaching English as a second language.
These require applications and interviews, but they are real options available to those who are willing to invest in their education. Furthermore, students can work legally alongside their studies, and it's fairly easy to do so. Americans can work at English-speaking restaurants, perform translations if your French is good, work as tour guides, babysit, or even teach English privately. While students are capped at about 20 hours a week on a contract, they can also apply for the auto-entrepreneur status and file taxes as freelance contractors, allowing them to work as much as they want.
I learned all of this on the fly, and it wasn't always comfortable or easy. Getting your foot in the door, acquiring visas, and keeping up with paperwork does make life more complicated. Chalk it all up to immersion living. If applying from outside of France in a non-EU country, you'll need to go through Campus France to secure a visa, but for those already in France legally as a spouse, a teaching assistant, or even as an intern, it is possible to change your status directly at the prefecture once accepted to a school.
You'll have to keep an eye on deadlines and required documents, though each university is different, and I've compiled a list of each one in Paris on my site. Here's an example of a website that you'll come across while researching programs. It's not always the most clear. Prepare to get birth certificates and university transcripts translated by an official translator – an inevitable cost to get the process started.
One thing to note is that hard science, business, and law degrees are not always easily accessible to foreigners. Shoot for topics like history, communication, art, literature, and sociology instead, as they tend to be less competitive.
If you want flowers and macarons all the time, higher education isn't necessarily going to fulfill your postcard Parisian dreams. It's not an easy solution to living in France. But if you want to earn a degree and are even remotely serious about your education, it's a solid choice.
By living in Paris as a student, I was able not only to pay off my undergraduate student debt within 6 years, but I managed to live comfortably and still save some money while working on the side.
That means I can afford a bottle of Champagne to celebrate because, you know, I earned a PhD while living in one of the most amazing cities in the world. No biggie.
Bryan Pirolli is a travel journalist and professor at the Sorbonne University. He defended his PhD dissertation "Pluralité et extension du journalisme de voyage : nouveaux acteurs, nouvelles pratiques, nouvelles attentes," wih honors in December 2015 at the Sorbonne Nouvelle. He'll be teaching the nuts and bolts of good travel writing at the Secrets of Paris Travel Writing Workshops.]]>
And like their name suggests, it's pretty easy. You choose a tank, choose a delivery/replacement time frame, and pay the deposit with your credit card. That's it. I was skeptical, but three guys with my new heater showed up on time, replaced the water heater, took the old one away, and handed me the facture to sign. The final payment was deducted automatically from my credit card five days later. They can also come out to do a quote or repair. It's all very transparent, and even when choosing one of the high-end tanks (anti-calcaire for the hard water issues) it still only cost me (or rather my landlord) €615. The only inconvenience was that I had to wait until the following Thursday, so I went five days without hot water, but it wasn't a big deal (good thing the tea kettle works and the heating is central).
Another friend of mine with an apartment in Paris recommended Bricool, a "concierge du bricolage" that works in a similar way with online ordering and transparent rates for any little home improvements, plumbing, electricity, painting, etc. In American suburbia there's always someone in the neighborhood with tools and know-how to help you put up curtains or replace a leaky faucet so you don't have to call a professional. In a city like Paris those people are few and far in between, so this is the low-cost alternative for the small jobs that don't need a contractor. I haven't tried it yet but my friend was very happy (and he's rather exigent, so I'd use anyone he recommends). Next time I need this apartment painted, I am definitely not doing it myself.
You'll need to understand French to use these sites, but it's so much easier when you can make the initial contact online than over the phone with someone you looked up in the pages jaunes!
NOTE: These are not ads or sponsored posts. I don't get commissions if you click on the links. I only recommend services on my website if I've used them myself or if someone I know and trust recommends them. Usually the companies I write about have no idea I've written about them until after it's published.]]>
Everything I know about the world of "fiber arts" I learned in a little seaside town just outside Seattle called Port Townsend. In October I was there visiting a high school friend who had recently taken up crocheting with gusto, so I thought it would be fun to bring her some yarn from one of the boutiques here in Paris.
My First Encounter with Parisian Yarn Shops
I've had tour clients ask about sewing, knitting and embroidery shops over the years, so I knew of a few picturesque boutiques. But as usual, I had too many last-minute errands to run before my flight and didn't have time to go all the way across town to shop. Then I remembered L'Oisive Thé, the cute little tea room near me on the Butte aux Cailles, also sold knitting supplies. I checked their opening hours and found that they actually had a brand new boutique La Bien Aimée just a block away, so I popped in and was suddenly faced with three walls stacked with colorful yarns of different brands and prices. Like art supplies, I get all mesmerized by the colors and textures, but have no clue what to do with them. I admitted my total ignorance to the friendly shopkeeper. "Is there anything here she couldn't buy in the US? Possibly made in France?" She helps me choose a few pretty, hand-dyed wool yarns from France. I wrote a little post about it before I headed overseas, prompting a few "You should do knitting tours!" comments from friends. I thought it would be a fabulous idea for someone who actually knew about knitting, and promptly forgot all about it as I departed on my much-needed vacation.
The Paris-Port Townsend Connection
In Port Townsend there are three yarn shops in the historic harbor town of just under 10,000 residents. My friend (who seemed happy with the French yarn) invites me to her local knitting night at Bazaar Girls, where a multi-generational group of ladies (and two gentlemen) drink hot toddies around a big wooden table while working on their projects. They patiently answered all of my dumb questions about the difference between knitting and crocheting, the difference between natural and synthetic yarns (the latter they called "dinosaur wool", because it's made from fossil fuels), and how long it would realistically take me to learn how to knit my own socks (related to my own "project", a pair of expensive knee-high wool socks that needed darning before the winter). This is where I first hear the all-inclusive phrase "fiber arts" which comprises knitting, crocheting, embroidery, sewing, etc. With my newfound knowledge I actually considered taking up knitting myself, but I already have too many expensive hobbies (running shoes aren't cheap), so I quietly shelved that idea next to the knitting tours.
Port Townsend, Bazaar Girls Yarn Shop and a Dia de los Muertos souvenir my friend crocheted for me.
A Wonderful Discovery in Paris
Back in Paris I still follow my friend's crocheting projects on Instagram. In early February she tags me in a post she following about a new guide book to the Parisian fiber arts shops, Stitching Up Paris. I immediately check it out online, holding my breath – would it be yet another half-baked, generic list full of bad clichés written by some opportunist who "visits Paris all of the time"? Happily, I think you already know the answer to this. Nothing makes me more excited than promoting the work of people sharing their passion and expertise with the world, and Stitching Up Paris is truly the "insider's guide to Parisian knitting, sewing, notions and needlecraft stores" it claims to be, but it's also so much more.
Meeting with the Paris "Kniterati"
First you should know who's behind this wonderful little guide, Barbara Cattoni and Keiry Belton, native New Zealanders who met through Ravelry (which is like the Facebook of the fiber arts world with millions of members around the world). Keiry has been living in Paris for four years and writes about knitting and expat life in her blog KeiryBeesParis, while Barbara has living in France for over 30 years and has been giving custom, private tours of Parisian knitting, sewing and needlework shops for almost five years. I met up with the ladies on a rainy afternoon at Oisive Thé. They are wearing beautiful sweaters they made themselves, of course. "We didn't have any experience as writers and publishers, but I know knitting and yarn shops, Barbara knows knitting and sewing and embroidery and all of the shops," says Keiry, "The knitters here have become my friends in Paris, my network who I practice my French on, so we are part of the community."
A Discerning Guide to Parisian Knitting, Sewing, Notions & Needlecraft Stores
Their guide includes 65 carefully-chosen addresses in Paris and the immediate suburbs (particularly for the flea markets). "We don't include shops that don't have a lot of French things," says Barbara. "One of the most popular shops in Paris is all 'Made in China'. We also kept shops where we thought people would receive a nice welcome, shops that are not too intimidating." The shops are divided into chapters by type: knitting and yarn; fabrics and sewing; embroidery; haberdashery, notions, and passementerie; vintage and Shabby Chic. There is a glossary and translations of essential words, including US and UK differences.
But these ladies didn't just list the usual guidebook info (that almost anyone could do online these days). Barbara already knew most of the shop assistants from her tours over the years, but for the book they actually contacted the owners and scheduled meetings where they could take photos and get more in-depth information (aka "primary research" in journalistic terms). "The French people were wary of me, but they already knew Barbara," says Keiry. "It would start out as an interview, and it would very quickly turn into a conversation with a friend about knitting, sewing, embroidery, colors, yarns…" It makes for a much more interesting read, as you discover the origin of the shop's name, or how the owner became passionate about the craft.
More than Just a List of Addresses
These detailed shop descriptions would be enough on their own to make this book worth buying, but there's so much more. Throughout the book you'll find Neighborhood Notes with sightseeing recommendations close to the shops (including a museum where some of the earliest sewing machines are displayed), historical notes about different kinds of French fabrics, related culture (like the French film Le Cri de la Soie), listings of craft fairs, etiquette tips for taking photos at the flea market, sewing cafés where you can rent a machine by the hour, knitting meet-ups around town, and even detailed shopping instructions to help newcomers navigate the legendary (and infamously complicated) boutique La Droguerie. You learn so much about Paris from a completely different viewpoint that it's an interesting book even if you're not into fiber arts (like me) or don't plan on visiting Paris anytime soon (as the ladies point out, many of these shops also sell their goods online, too).
Where to Get Your Copy
Barbara and Keiry published the book themselves, but you would never guess it by looking at it. They took the photos themselves, but hired a professional editor to go through the text and a design company in New Zealand for the cover and layout. Stitching Up Paris is a pretty little book, beautifully designed with color photos and high-quality matte paper, light and compact enough to stash in a large purse or tote bag. It's on sale in Parisian fiber arts boutiques like Bien Aimée for €19, or through online booksellers like Amazon from $22.
A Private Tour with Barbara
If you're interested in one of Barbara's private tours of Paris fabric knitting and needlecraft stores, be sure to book in advance as she does them all herself and only schedules a few each week. She will customize the tour to match whatever you're interested in, from haute couture fabrics and vintage notions to buttons and every kind of yarn. And it's not a problem at all if you're just looking. "There's never pressure to buy, we don't get commissions," says Barbara. "It's not in our culture." Taking a tour with Barbara also helps you really connect with the locals who share your interests.
"Everyone has an idea that French people are rude," says Barbara. "So what I like is taking them into a shop where they get into a conversation with the shop assistants about a project. I took an Australian lady -- very good embroiderer -- to a button shop, and she said to the shop assistant after chatting for a bit, 'Can I show you what I do?' So she pulled out this piece of embroidery, and the lady from the shop nipped out the back and got her embroidery, because that's what she did, too, and they had a great conversation. And that's what knitting and sewing does with people."
Join the Community
If you'd like to join the local "kniterati" for weekly Dinner & Knit Night at L'Oisive Thé, check out their Ravelry group ("l'oisivethé et la bien aimée") and sign up as soon as the event is posted, it fills immediately! My friend from Port Townsend will be visiting Paris this fall, so I might have to learn a few stitches myself so we can go together, completing the full circle (there's probably a knitting/crocheting term for that...).]]>
For more information about our Travel Writing Workshops this May, August and October, visit: http://www.secretsofparis.com/travel-writing-workshop
It's no secret that most travelers will eventually end up on TripAdvisor when planning their vacation. It has become the Google of the travel world, where people go for honest, unbiased reviews of hotels, restaurants, sights and activities by fellow travelers. Except the information on TripAdvisor is anything but honest and unbiased, and it's only getting worse. If you've only seen the good side of TripAdvisor, be prepared to swallow the red pill. Ignorance isn't bliss when it comes to vacation planning, especially in expensive destinations like Paris, so this in-depth article will attempt to show you what's behind the curtain (the summary is first if you just want the main points). The purpose isn't to rant, but to provide information travelers can use to make better decisions when planning a trip, and to raise awareness in general about how TripAdvisor's profit-driven practices affect both travelers and small businesses.
1. Created in 2000, TripAdvisor built its brand on the trademark "World's most trusted travel site". But after countless lawsuits in multiple countries, by 2013 TripAdvisor quietly removed the words "trusted" as well "honest" from all of its website marketing (now it's just the "World's largest travel site").
2. An entire industry of "reputation management" companies exists which businesses can hire to create highly believable fake reviews, "fix" their reputation if they've received bad reviews, or sabotage their competitors.
3. Even when reviews are posted by honest travelers, there are many good reasons why these are still completely useless to the average traveler when trying to plan a trip (and how spending hours trying to decipher them is a waste of precious time).
4. Hotels which opt to pay for TripAdvisor's hefty "Business Listing" package get preferential treatment, increased visibility and "access to traffic", no matter their reviews, rankings and ratings by travelers.
5. Hotels can't ask for their listing to be removed, but unless they pay for the pricey Business Listing subscription TripAdvisor removes the hotel's contact information (phone number and website) from the listing (so users have to go on Google to find their phone and website).
6. Hotels, restaurants and other small businesses can lose a significant part of their business if they receive fake negative reviews or get red-flagged by TripAdvisor for "suspicious activity", yet they often have no recourse except to take the website to court, and many simply don't have the financial resources to do so.
7. TripAdvisor prominently positions the tours and activities which can be booked through Viator, a company it bought in 2014, at the top and center of their pages. These companies listed on Viator pay 20–30% commissions. So TripAdvisor is blatantly promoting their own companies' business listings above companies which are independent, even if the latter have better reviews and ratings by the anonymous users.
8. TripAdvisor encourages travelers to book directly through its own website booking system, but takes zero responsibility for any issues with the service booked when travelers experience problems (ie overcharged on their credit card, show up with a booking confirmation but the hotel has no record, etc). This is compounded when booking through TripAdvisor for tours, because they then go through Viator's system instead of directly to the actual tour company.
So to put it all of these points into context, TripAdvisor started in 2000 and built a huge following as a "trusted source of travel information". Once it gained a dominant share of the market, the number of fake reviews skyrocketed, resulting in multiple court cases around the world. But instead of taking measures to verify and guarantee the reliability of the reviews, they simply changed the "trust" slogan to "the biggest" and began making money as a booking engine, charging companies for preferential visibility, acquiring the booking engines like Viator to profit from the tours they supposedly recommend without bias, and pressuring companies to give up 20–30% of their sales in commissions for added "access to traffic". The lack of transparency hurts travelers because they think all of the businesses are fairly represented on TripAdvisor, and because their size and power now means they are too big to ignore, pressuring small businesses to work "with" them in order to protect their business reputation. Travelers also don't realize that when they use third-party booking sites that it represents a serious bite into any business's revenue, and they make up for that by charging more, so eventually the consumer ends up paying for TripAdvisor's commissions.
Read the full -- and rather lengthy! -- article published on Medium for an explaination of these points in detail, as well as the argument for why even the "honest" TripAdvisor reviews, rankings and ratings are still unreliable and ultimately useless: What You Don't Know About TripAdvisor: How the World's Largest Travel Monopoly Ultimately Hurts Travelers & Small Businesses]]>
The French Royal Flag is usually three fleur-de-lis on a field of blue or white (white was the color of the Bourbon dynasty), although there are many variations.
The French Flag aka Le Tricolore is the official flag of the French Republic (and I doubt anyone here wouldn't recognize this one). Created during the French Revolution, it combines the red and blue colors of Paris and the white of the Bourbon dynasty of French kings (according to legend it was General Lafayette who added the white, still hoping for a constitutional monarchy for France).
The European Union Flag with 12 stars representing the European people in a circle of unity (it doesn't represent the number of countries, it will not change, 12 being the "symbol of completeness and perfection" according to the Council of Europe.
Every French region has its own flag, here are three you see often in Paris:
The Brittany Flag known as the Gwenn-ha-du which means "black and white" in Breton, their regional language (Celtic origins). Some Americans see this at crêpe stands (crêpes being a Breton specialty) and mistake it for some kind of anti-American flag. That's not such an absurd assumption, since it was created in 1923 using both the American and the black and white Greek flags as inspiration, the two countries which symbolized liberty and democracy.
The Corsican Flag is another one that Americans mistake for some sort of terrorist or freedom fighter flag (you usually see it in Paris at Corsican food stands in the market). It's a testa di Moru, or black Moor's Head with a white bandana, the official emblem of Corsican independence in 1755, but dating back to the Middle Ages when the Kings of Aragon claimed Corsica as their own. Some think it originally represented Saint Maurice, a black Egyptian saint.
The Normandy Flag is a heraldic flag with two gold leopards on a red background, aka p'tits cats in Norman parlance. People often mistake them for lions.
Other symbols you see throughout Paris:
The Cocarde Tricolore is the circle badge of red white and blue rings that represents the French Republic. It was created during the French revolution; the flag actually comes from this symbol, which the Revolutionaries wore on their Phrygian caps. Today you see it on the façade of many government buildings like the Quai d'Orsay, on cars of government officials, and on the sash of Miss France.
The Seal of the City of Paris is a coat of arms dating back to the 14th century when it represented the powerful shipping union of Paris. The city motto is Fluctuat nec mergitur ("She is tossed by the waves, but never sinks"). You can see the royal French fleur-de-lis on the top (briefly removed after the Revolution then returned for historic reasons), and in the fancy version you have below the boat the medals of the Legion of Honor (1900), the Croix de Guerre (1914-1918), and the Cross of the Liberation (1945). The seal is used by the Mairie de Paris (City Hall) as well as all municipal services. "RF" stands for République Française.
The Préfecture de Paris, or Paris Police Prefecture are the National Police responsible for Paris and the immediate suburbs. They have integrated the seal of Paris into their badge. The back-to-back P's are not that different from a famous hotel in New York.
Marianne and the République Française is the national government symbol, usually seen on any official documents. Marianne is a female figure representing France, and the national motto Liberté Egalité Fraternité stands for Liberty, Equality and Fraternity.
The Croix de Lorraine is the cross dating back to the Knights of Templar which was used by the soldiers of the Free French Forces of the Résistance during World War II.
The Monaco Flag confuses a few people. The Principality surrounded by France just off the Mediterannean has an official red and white flag, but also a 13th-century coat of arms representing the ruling Grimaldi dynasty with the red and white diamond pattern. They have their own Monegasque license plate with just four numbers.
French License Plates are much bigger, and have changed much over the past 20 years to confirm to European standards. On the left you have the F for France and the European flag, then two letters, three numbers, and two more letters, then the number of your department (Paris is 75) and either the symbol of your region (Paris is in Ile de France) or a symbol of your choice, like the Seal of Paris or the PSG symbol (Paris Saint Garmain is the local football/soccer team). Beneath the license plates you can see some of the numbers and symbol for each region, including the now totally recognizable Corsican and Brittany symbols.
For all of you who are intrigued by the different flags, I highly recommend the TedTalk video "The Worst Designed Thing You've Never Noticed" by Roman Mars of 99% Invisible radion show and podcast.]]>
Trust is a tricky thing when traveling. Between the stories from your cousin Kathy, your new Lonely Planet, and those endless lists printed from the web, it's hard to know which sources get it right when it comes to a destination. It's especially difficult for a place like Paris and its endless amount of blogs, books, and websites.
How can you actually trust anything you read? This was a central question in my PhD thesis at the Sorbonne (don't worry, I'm not about to get all academic on you here). The answer, however, was relatively clear after an online questionnaire with over 230 people and multiple interviews with writers and tourists in Paris: Travelers don't ultimately trust any single source.
Before you throw out all of your research and give up on traveling entirely, just stop and think. Travel is a deeply personal experience, and as one of my interviewees said, one person's heaven is another person's version of hell. Just because a New York Times journalist gives a glowing review to a restaurant doesn't mean much if the writer is a reckless spender who likes trendy food, while your more modest budget might favor traditional dishes.
The problem, however, is that the internet acts like a Roman vomitorium funneling anonymous information out to the public. It's a total overload. According to my research, Paris tourists visit an average of 8 different websites to plan their trip, with some travelers clicking on more than 40. And among those websites, anonymous reviews on sites like TripAdvisor rank as the most highly trusted. Such sites are also the first stop for tourists researching Paris. Scary, right?
Maybe not. Professionally produced travel guides and blogs take the #2 and #3 spot behind TripAdvisor for trustworthy sites, which indicates that tourists are not simply submitting themselves to the masses of notoriously unreliable review sites. They are finding things to value in each type of website. Moreover, more than half of tourists report that the identity of online authors – even on TripAdvisor – is important or very important to them.
So then what can travelers look for to create trust with all of this online information? They consistently look to multiple sources, crosschecking them all in order to reduce doubt as much as possible about a purchase. My interviews with tourists also revealed a few strategies that, while far from perfect, work for each of them to create at least an illusion of trust within each source, be it a blog, TripAdvisor, or the professional media. Let's take a look.
When it comes to blogs, which ones do you trust? Can you just click on a blog and know right away if there will be useful, accurate information? It takes a bit of digging, but it's possible. Travelers look to see if they share common interests or have traveled to the same place. A young American traveler discussed how she always looks for blogs with a budget angle, easily limiting the scope of her research. It seems obvious, but try and get an idea of what the blog is about before you start scanning the posts.
More than that, the most important thing to look for is an "About Me" section. If it's unclear who is writing the blog, red flags should shoot up immediately. Knowing that it's an established expat writing as opposed to someone who just spent three months in Paris will allow you to judge the information accordingly. As one woman said:
"I know that some can be contrived and not very authentic but most of the time they have an air of authenticity, especially if it's written in the first person and the blogger is in the photos, as well. I like it to validate what I'm about to do."
Also, with blogs you should check the date of publication. Blogs are great sources of up to date information, but a blog post from 2010 won't necessarily help you in 2016. With bloggers often sharing older posts on Twitter as a way to maintain a presence, we've all found ourselves reading something out of date and not realizing it until we checked when it was published.
I once took a recommendation from a blogger I trust only to find that it had not been updated in a while, and the restaurant, which had since changed hands, was fairly disappointing. Check those time stamps!
But bloggers aren't perfect. Some accept freebies while others write for cash. Even though there are disclosure laws in the US requiring bloggers to say if something was sponsored, many don't, and those in Europe or beyond don't have similar laws. It's always a leap of faith, even if a modest one.
On review sites like TripAdvisor, things get more difficult. Bloggers can develop a relationship with readers over time, but TripAdvisor is like the drive-through of travel information. And much like the meat in a fast food restaurant, its contents are questionable. Fake or paid reviews are just some of the issues we have to deal with on TripAdvisor, and there is never really a way to know if the information is honest or not. There's plenty more on that here.
However, if you want to check a hotel against a blogger or journalist's review, there can be some useful information within individual reviews, so forget the rankings. Traditional word of mouth advice, one of the most important for tourists, usually comes from a person we know. Immediately we can judge whether or not to trust it, depending on our relationship with the person. Online, we lack the luxury of knowing the person on the other side. But if you think you can trust that it's a regular Joe writing, it helps to know what to look in order to judge the review as accurately as possible.
Tourists say they look for indicators as to the nationality, age, and travel experiences of the person reviewing. By clicking their profile, we can have basic information that at least explains why the person is criticizing the hotel or restaurant. Different cultures have different expectations, and even within the US, users will discriminate based on location. One woman from New York explained in her interview:
"On Yelp they say where people are from, so if they are from the area or another similar big city, I'd be more likely to read and trust that individual comment than someone who is complaining from Missouri."
It may sound elitist, and many users recognize this, but they want to be able to trust the voices speaking at them. To that end, they also look at the writing quality in an individual review. Most of those interviewed immediately dismiss reviews with poor English or slang writing. Another woman summed it up:
"If you can't spell or punctuate properly it makes me think you are less educated and I shouldn't take your advice – depending on the subject."
A third element to look for is how active the person is on TripAdvisor or Yelp. Some travelers preferred those who only had a few reviews, imagining that these people we really moved by a certain experience to write about it. Other travelers like to see many reviews, indicating someone with much experience. Both arguments have validity, and it's up to you to make the call, but noting their other activity on the site could help make a judgement call for you.
Then again, this could all be for naught if it's a fake review in the first place. Ultimately there's no way to know, but with millions of reviews, they can't all be fake.
Beyond blogs and TripAdvisor, good old print sources remain popular, from guides to travels magazines. Professionally produced and edited, these sources instill trust in tourists just by having names like Condé Nast or Fodor's. Does that mean they are perfect? Not at all, and travelers still systematically crosscheck every source with others. Some unscrupulous journalists accept freebies and are paid for articles by companies that might as well be advertising content. Travelers know that the brand confidence isn't an ultimate reason to trust a publication. One woman said:
"The New York Times has its own prestige. Maybe I'm naive, but I just assume what they say has some authority."
Still, the press has clout, and writers who are actually getting paid for their work and submit to an editorial process are more accountable than most writers online.
As pay rates continue to fall, however, lots of new, younger, untrained writers are taking writing jobs once belonging to professional journalists. Even if most tourists report not looking into the identity of the journalist writing, it may be worthwhile to take a moment and check on Twitter to see who is writing and if you think they can really be trusted.
These are just a few results from my research that might help you plan your next trip. In the end, the goal is to find information that speaks to you and, more importantly, that has clear and transparent origins. Know where it's coming from and decide whether to use it, check it with other sources, and reduce doubt as much as possible.
All of these travel information sites are helping to build trust with you, to empower you to make the right decision, and to make you feel good about these choices. No one site can completely eliminate any doubt though, and travelers are forced to verify sometimes using more than 40 websites just to feel comfortable with their decisions. Never has it been so easy to be armed with so much information and yet still feel so poorly informed.
The process isn't perfect, but travel isn't meant to be either, and sometimes the bumps in the road are the most exciting part.
Bryan Pirolli is a travel journalist and professor at the Sorbonne University. This article is based on his PhD dissertation "Pluralité et extension du journalisme de voyage : nouveaux acteurs, nouvelles pratiques, nouvelles attentes," defended in December 2015 at the Sorbonne Nouvelle. He'll be teaching the nuts and bolts of good travel writing at the Secrets of Paris Travel Writing Workshops.]]>