Paris by night

I'm very much a morning person, not a night bird, but I like walking around certain cities at night - and Paris is one of those cities.  

So there I was last week, standing in the Cité de l'Architecture et du Patrimoine and looking at its amazing Eiffel Tower views.  Evening was coming on, the lights went on in the Tower, yellow-red against the evening clouds. 

(By the way, the museum has some good exhibits, including a full size mock up of a Le Corbusier flat, wonderful models and many lifesized plaster casts of old architectural features. It's about to run an Art Deco show which I just missed - bah!)  

So when we left the museum, we headed for the 1st Arrondissement, right in the centre of the city.  Dusk falls pretty fast this time of year. but a nice big illuminated map is always useful for night walks, so at least you know where you are starting from. . 

There's a certain time in the early evening when daytime is over and night time hasn't yet begun. I wondered if these people were about to go home, or were they enjoying a cocktail before going on somewhere else?



I always like the little bars and bistros glimpsed through old windows down narrow side streets.......

though occasionally I like to go to a fancy restaurant. (The one shown below is the Procope, in Rue de l'Ancienne Comédie, actually in the 6th Arrondissement, where I went another evening. It's said to be the oldest restaurant in the city, with lots of fascinating memorabilia, as well as excellent food.)  

Echoes of Paris past....

Back to the 1st Arrondissement, we spotted this art nouveau angel guarding a doorway in Galerie Vivienne.. 

And a bit of street music always livens things up.....

Public art's a great thing.  This wondrous metro station entrance at Palais-Royal is one of my favourites. Designed by Jean-Michel Othoniel,.it's intended as a "kiosque" for people who walk around in the night.   

Paris does not allow you to forget its history and all the characters who have lived there....

And history leaves us in no doubt that Paris has its edgy side

Although it is not always that peaceful, I rarely feel bothered when walking around it.    I think this incident was some kind of a strike - also a feature of Paris life. - although there were some tough looking people hanging around too.  Nothing actually happened.     

 Some of the buildings look quite unreal after dark. Don't you think this looks like an illustration from a fantastical book? I am trying to remember where it is, so perhaps some Parisian reader can identify it?  

I crept into Notre-Dame cathedral. It seems surprisingly plain once the dazzling daytime colours of the stained glass are concealed in darkness

 

And talking of colours I liked this patriotic fountain, lit up in  red, white and blue

One of the areas I DIDN'T visit on this trip was around the Moulin Rouge. I know it's historic but to be honest, I don't like it.  But these fashionable tights on display in an expensive boutique made an offbeat homage to the can can which made the Moulin Rouge world-famous in the 1890s. They are arranged on asymmetric revolving wheels,  seen in an reflecting kaleidoscope of  mirrors in a constantly changing display.. 

On one of the Seine bridges we met a cheerful man who had rigged up his bike with lanterns and small fountains made of umbrellas, with splashing water pumps.   He told us that the problem with the world was that people didn't use their intelligence, and everyone would be a lot happier if they did.   Everyone was happy to chat with him, and he sent us on our way with a smile.  

Paris, and How John Abberley Saved My Life

After months of work, our BBC television project jumped an important hurdle a short while ago. If I obsessed about things like this, I'd be working myself into a lather deeper than Liberace's bubble-bath.  But it's Someone Else's Problem, since there is very little I can do to push matters one way or the other.

But I'm getting an insider view of a process which demands loads of patience and persistence, and LOTS of time

not to mention a degree in bureaucracy.   As one of the producers said of the endless discussions,  "We must look like goldfish swimming round and round in a bowl, with our mouths opening and shutting."   Or, (I thought) like being caught in a particularly tangled wood....

I've spent a lot of time one way and another observing the BBC from not-quite-inside and not-quite-outside. T. worked on BBC staff for years in London, and also spent three years at a BBC local radio station in his early days.  My contribution wasn't important but they were such a nice group of people and I was very grateful to tag along.

They had some lovely reporters at this station. One, John, specialised at turning up at the very last moment for his reports.  He was always doing something more interesting or enjoyable that didn't involve rushing around....

It was sometimes my job to haul him away and into the studio to deliver his spiel.

But I remember him very fondly, and with enormous gratitude, becauselong ago he saved my life, and the life of my baby.  In fact, I still get the creeps

when I think of that incident, and how easily it could have gone the other way.

It happened when I was sitting in the back seat of a car, feeding my oldest daughter, who was too tiny even to hold her head up at the time. John happened to be standing outside the studio chatting to a group of friends.

All of a sudden, I noticed that the scenery outside the windows was moving, and John and his friends were disappearing from view.   Yes, either they, or else the car, were just not staying in the same place.

Oh, it was the car that was moving! The  handbrake had slipped and it had started to drive itself downhill - a steep hill with a busy traffic intersection at the bottom.

I tried to leap up,  my brain racing across the possibility of steering with one hand and pulling the handbrake with the other. But my baby was screaming and flailing, and I couldn't reach over the front seat or stand up anyhow.

The car was picking up speed.  Before I could think any further, John had hurled himself into the front seat, slammed on the brakes,  grabbed the wheel and steered us to safety.  He had spotted what was happening, amd raced across the street (at risk to his own life) to save the situation.

I often think of that, and wonder what would have happened if he had not reacted so fast.  He was no spring chicken even then, but maybe his quick wits were the reason he only turned up for live broadcasts till the last minute. He just liked living that way.

We lost touch for many years after we moved back to London, but I found this clip of him on Youtube, performing at his 75th birthday party.  He had still not completely retired.



So here's the man who almost certainly saved me and my daughter from something terrible.  Sadly he's died now, but I am glad I'd got back in touch before and told him how grateful I will always be to him.

When you read this I'll be on my way back from Paris..  In honour of it, I've illustrated this post with pictures  from my last trip to Paris, a couple of years ago.  This wonderful Parisian mural below is by Raoul Dufy, who is an underrated painter these days, I think.  Do you agree it might be time for Dufy to have a comeback?

A Lovely Gift, Paris, the Question of the Rolls Royces and THE HOSPITAL TRAIN BLOG

I was so pleased yesterday  to get a wonderful gift from Jeanie of the Marmelade Gypsy -  a pack of note cards created from some of the photos on her beautiful blog (take a look at her site here!)

 I homed in on this one, showing the Eiffel Tower in Paris.....
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... because T had a big birthday this year and we're going to Paris in October.   In honour of the trip, I made him an appropriate birthday card - well, a birthday construction really.  Hope you can tell it is meant to be a champagne bar!

You might remember that I planned to visit Japan this autumn, but the publishers have now confirmed that publication is delayed till next year. I still hope to go, but I'd need to leave a good chunk of time to organise some work and make a Japan trip worthwhile, which I can't do till a publication date is confirmed.  So feeling a bit disappointed there.

What with this, and other things, it's been an up and down week. But the BBC

project plods on.  I'm told we may not have a verdict till Christmas!

And I have solved part of a mystery that has been puzzling me for a while, the Question of the Rolls Royces.

Two vintage Rolls Royces recently appeared, parked at the curb in our street. (NOT the kind of thing we are used to happening round here, I should add).   One is yellow and one is silver. Since there is virtually no off-street parking in the area, we were wondering who they could belong to.  I thought there must be a mad Rolls Royce collector around, who loved living in an area with no parking and was happy to leave his treasures to the attention of the many weird people who pass by on their merry way..

Then last night I learned that they have different owners!  The silver one belongs to a neighbour who I  know vaguely. It seems he did several years of creative work for a Middle Eastern royal, and  was treated lavishly while he was doing the work, flying everywhere first class and so on. But then the royal refused to pay, driving him into bankruptcy.  Not quite sure what happened next, but before long, the silver Rolls Royce appeared on the scene, I assume some kind of pay off from the royal.  The neighbour is now using the car as a central part of his new business.  Since he doesn't feel like moving away from his well loved home to somewhere with parking, he keeps it as near to outside his home as he can manage, and he watches over it like a hawk.

The yellow one's still a mystery. Perhaps that is the one which belongs to a mad collector ...

And finally, I'm hoping you will take a look from time to time at the blog for our World War 1 schools project.   (That is Lord Kitchener, above, telling Britons "Your Country Needs You").  

Our story is based in Bermondsey, South East London.    We will add to it as we go along, and hopefully the kids will too.

Working in schools is all very new to me. I've never felt I'm a natural teacher, to put it mildly, and I'm far more nervous about it than any other work projects.    Anyway, here it is, with just one post so far, but if you're interested, keep checking back and there will be more posts as we get going - the school term starts in September. :

http://www.mabel-and-her-amazing-fleas.blogspot.co.uk/
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Oh, and I see the Google followers.have just hit 400. Welcome, Ms Sparrow!

Lovely gifts from abroad

It's been rather busy lately as my mum hasn't been too well, but it hasn't all been tough by any means. We were delighted to get some really great foreign presents in the last couple of days, so I thought I'd share them here.

The first was a Cat Bus album from Japan.    If you've watched the magical film "My Neighbour Totoro" you'll recognise the Cat Bus (above) a spirit bus which is shaped like a cat and takes you where you want to go.  I'm very fond of the Cat Bus and our Japanese friend Rie, who was over here in the summer, printed out some photos of us all and put them int the album which you can see below, which has the Cat Bus's head on it.  I'm so pleased.   

Our second gift was a package of amazing foodstuffs which K and F got us in Paris.  Paris is one of the cities which at times can really live up to the hype and cliches, and I often marvel at the glamour, elegance and refinement and .... well, Frenchness of it.  Yes, yes, yes, of course it is French, and also of course there is a whole lot of grunge and garbage in Paris, too, but, at its best. it actually lives up to its idealised image.

So here are some beautiful macaroons from Fauchon at 26 Place de la Madeleine,

including a gold one at the right of the box

Plus a large box of three different types of cheese, cut into elegant bite sized chunks

Plus also a loaf of the most gorgeous bread, now disappeared forever

The cheese is also no more, we shared it with guests last night.  We've eaten the gold macaroon and the violet coloured one, the rest are in the fridge.

So now I feel as if I have had a little private visit to both Paris and Japan.  

La vie s'eteint ...

More from Paris...  My eye was caught by this curiously beautiful graffiti. 

As far as I know,  "la vie s'eteint" means "life goes."   Does it have some extra shade of meaning in French? I don't speak it well enough to know. 

Paris is so elegant

The Eiffel Tower, in evening dress, glimpsed through a window.