My French kitchen

I really like the clean look of modern European kitchens, where the appliances are mostly hidden. And to make sure you have enough space to store your pots and pans, just get ones with handles that you can detach and swap out. C'est une bonne idée!

Where is the dishwasher?

Oh,, there it is!

A clean look.

Our refrigerator and freezer.

Our microwave and storage area.

Notes from the underground

With Aidan and Joseph, we're getting a different view of Paris.  We explored the traditional sights, both along the Seine (including the Louvre and Notre Dame) and in Montmartre.

But we also visited the Paris underground. For example, we toured the catacombs. The tunnels were dug in ancient times by quarry men. Then, in the 18th century when the Cemetery of the Innocents became overcrowded and a source of infection, remains were transferred to the catacombs, which became a consecrated, if eerie, cemetery.

Visitors are asked to show the respect they would in any cemetery or place of worship. Because gatekeepers strictly limit the people who can enter at one time, you can find yourself alone in the narrow, shadowy passages.

It's surprising how quickly you can get used to being surrounded by skulls and bones. Over six million people are interred there, and the walk covers about 2 kilometers (more than a mile).

A side note: Part of the catacombs served as a command center for the resistance during the liberation of Paris in 1944. 

There are also sculptures by Decure in the catacombs that pre-date the ossuaries. He was killed in 1782 when
he tried to create a passage to the next gallery, and the roof collapsed.

But that was not the end of our journeys underground. We also toured the Paris Sewer Museum.  I know people who found that tour particularly interesting, and the age and foresight in the construction of the sewers is fascinating, but I'm afraid I wasn't too impressed by the models of sewer cleaning machines and the smell (though it certainly could have been worse.) 

Eeew! It smells like a sewer, too!

As an engineering feat, though, the sewers are remarkable. Although they have been expanded over the years, the design, laid out in 1850 by engineer Eugene Belgrand, remains much the same. Today, there are more than 2400 kilometers (1490 miles) of sewer tunnels.

I neglected to get a photo of the most interesting part--the large balls sent by water pressure through the sewers to clean them. The look like massive cannon-balls. I estimate the largest at about 6 feet in diameter.

At least there was no strike three!

Aidan and Joseph (our grandson and his friend) arrived at Charles de Gaulle (CDG) Airport on June 11. They had an incredibly long flight from Seattle, with layovers in Chicago and Montreal. Little did they know that it would be awhile before they could rest!

Paris was hit with two labor disputes that day. The railworkers were striking, which reduced the trains to CDG by 80%, and the Parisian taxi owners were joining their counterparts in other European cities to protest the rise of Uber and other ridesharing services.

Kevin and I knew none of this when we set out from our apartment to greet our very-welcome guests and escort them to the city. At the Gare du Nord, where we planned to take the train to the airport, we encountered a mess!

There were two signs directing us to the airport trains, one to platforms 42 and 43, and another to platform 33. We went to platform 42 only to discover that we needed to go to platform 33, which was not that clearly marked, in the extremely crowded station.

By this time we had three more people in tow—an Alberta woman and her two sons, who were traveling on a visit home to Canada from Nigeria, where the wife and husband were teaching at an international school.  (Her husband, the principal, could not join her until later.) 

If we thought we had problems, hers were much worse.  Her youngest son (elementary school age) had just gotten out of a Paris hospital, where he had been treated for an overdose of a malaria drug.  He had a heart condition, and the Nigerian doctors had prescribed the wrong amount of the drug. To top it off, the airline had lost their luggage. She and her sons were scheduled to fly out of CDG that morning, but the ticket office wasn't open, and the ticket machines would not take her North American credit card.  (Before we left we got cards with European-style chips.)  We helped her get tickets using our card, for which she reimbursed us, and then we made our way together to the train.

At some point, when I was not looking, Kevin was accosted by another pickpocket. (Two in a month? I realize anecdotal evidence is not statistical evidence, but it does seem that Paris has a problem.) Fortunately, the pickpockets are not physically dangerous. My mild-mannered husband surprised himself when, without thinking, he shoved the guy into a trash can, but I think that's a normal reaction to nearly being robbed!

In the confusion, when we finally got to the right area, we saw a scene that looked like a film of refugees fleeing a war-torn city: people were stuffed in the train cars and hanging out the doors. A TV crew was interviewing the passengers.  We had no hope of getting on that train, nor would I have wanted to.

Then a train arrived on the adjoining platform, and we learned that it would  soon leave for CDG. We climbed on. Surprisingly, it was not as crammed as the other train, and after a few stops we all got seats, although it was the "milk run," which stopped at every suburb between Paris and the airport.  The Canadian woman was very relieved when we got to CDG with time to spare.

Poor Aidan and Joseph!  Their plane arrived on time, but the luggage was delayed, so it was nearly an hour before they emerged, somewhat wilted, into the Terminal 2 waiting area. We had purchased their tickets already, so we went immediately to the train and, of course, we got the milk run again, but it wasn't crowded.

Aidan (left) and Joseph (right) on the milk run and still in good spirits.
(Thanks for the photo, Kevin.)

We arrived at Gare du Nord, still unaware there was a taxi strike.  Although we went to our "double-secret" taxi rank, where we've never had a problem catching a cab, the three taxis at the stand immediately took off. When no others appeared, we decided to take the bus.

We're very familiar with Bus 31 that goes from the Gare du Nord to a block from our apartment.  However, when we got nearly  three-fourths of the way there, the bus suddenly stopped. There was an announcement, and we began asking other passengers if the bus was going to our stop. They shook their heads to indicate no, so we got off.  We soon caught another Bus 31, but then it proceeded on an entirely different route! We realized then that all the buses were being detoured. A woman explained there had been an accident on Rue Ordener. We arrived at a stop about a 10-minute walk from our apartment and got off, trudging up the street with the suitcases. 

Although it took us at least twice as long as usual to get home, we finally got there!  Aidan and Joseph got a long-awaited shower and rest, and we all felt relieved as we celebrated their arrival that evening at our favorite rooftop bar with the view of the Eiffel Tower.  All's well that ends well.

Just happy to be in Paris, in spite of all the delays.

A beautiful ride on a bateau

On the last evening in Paris with our Danish friends, we took a ride on one of the boats that offer one-hour cruises on the Seine.  It was packed with people, so we weren't able to get seats on top for everyone, but we all luxuriated in the warm evening, as the sun faded, and the City of Light became true to its name.

On the riverbanks, young people (and a few older ones) sat side by side, perhaps sharing picnics or bottles of wine, as the boats, barges, and police boats churned the waters of the Seine.  An (almost) perfect Paris evening.

A cruise for friends—and romantics. (No, we don't know the couple embracing.)

Detail from the Pont Alexandre III. The Beaux-Arts style bridge is classified as a national monument.

Check out all the people on the banks.

A popular spot to spend the evening.

View of the Conciergerie, formerly part of the first royal palace and, in the French Revolution,  where
Marie Antoinette was held before her execution. Today it is the Palace of Justice.

Parisian sunset with a host of viewers on board.

Taking a stroll on the Promenade Plantée

Paris is a city of parks and gardens. From the large green expanses of the Bois de Boulogne and the Bois de Vincennes on opposite sides of the city to the Jardin des Plantes (botanical garden) and small neighborhood parks, Parisians are never far from a cool respite from urban grit.

The Promenade plantée (tree-lined walkway) is one of the more unusual parks, created on an obsolete elevated railway line in 1993. It stretches for nearly 3 miles, and was the inspiration for New York City's Highline.

"Oh, look! It's a baby Smart car!"

Have you seen the Twizy? While we were with our Danish friends, we spotted the Twizy and a similar car on the streets of Montmartre.  

A new fully-electric "car" from Renault, the Twizy is billed as a two-seater (though we only saw one seat).  It charges in 3-1/2 hours and has a range of 100 km (62 miles). Doors are optional!

I'm sure it will be years (if ever) before it makes it to the U.S. It took years for the Smart car to be able to pass the crash tests, and the Twizy is really more like a golf cart. But it must be fun to drive, and it's definitely easy to park.

Not a Twizy, but something like it. (The focus is a little fuzzy; it was taken at night.)

Parisian pleasures and Danish delights

(Back) Marianne and Sœren in back; Elsebeth (left) and Christina (right) in front.

We spent four delightful days this past week with our Danish friends Marianne and Sœren, and with Elsebeth and her friend (and our new friend) Christina.   

We were treated so well when we visited Denmark in 2012 that we wanted to show our friends our favorite haunts in central Paris and Montmartre.

You'll find more of our adventures coming up. (If this entry is brief, it's because I try to cover experiences  that I haven't written about before in the blog. However, you can see from the photos that we had a great time!)

Kevin tries a selfie.

Ah, the cafe life!

Elsebeth and Christina take Montmartre by storm.

Along the Seine.

The gelato in this cone is supposed to be in the form of a rose, but some come out better than others.

Elsebeth's escargot. Sorry, Christina, I just couldn't bring myself to put up the photo of the dancing frog legs.