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Feb. 16th, 2005 02:40 amI’m walking though a new section of Paris on my way to the library now, and it’s rather different than the streets I took to the Opéra library. For one thing, I think I’m walking though part of the fashion district (I’m on the rue Réanmur), because every store I go by has the following two signs somewhere: Fabricant (which means maker) and On ne vend pas au detail (which I think means they don’t sell to individuals). Apparently for spring you can expect a lot of pink and green, with crinkly thin fabric and a ton of sequins sewed onto your skirt. Of course, if you took European fashion as a given, you’d be wearing skirts with tulip bottoms (quite straight until just past your bum, then six or eight flares with a great deal of fabric and possibly a handkerchief hem) and either pointy-toed or sneaker-like boots. It’s a mad, mad, mad, mad world. Fashionwise, anyhow.
The other thing that’s different about this area is that, at least along Réanmur, it appears to be very much a business district; if anyone lives here, they must live on the side streets, because the Réanmur buildings are office buildings for sure. However, around the square that both the BN-Musique and the BN-Richelieu front, there are several residential buildings. Well, since I can’t imagine an office squeezing six or ten potted plants onto a balcony (or should I say an outcropping edged in wrought iron), I’ll assume they’re apartments.
The square (which has a large fountain – not running now, of course) used to be the site of an opera house (the eighth, apparently) and is now the site of my lunch. Today, because it’s quite cold, I ate my lunch with my mittens on. There are a few chairs just outside the door of the reading room where today I saw two women eating their lunch – proof that the French do indeed pack lunches from home and don’t always eat baguettes – and I may try that spot tomorrow as the projected high is around 3 Celsius.
The other thought that has occurred to me lately is this: if I ever moved to Paris, and I wanted a car, I would find a place to park my car that was so far out of the city I would never have to drive here. Although it’s quite safe to be a pedestrian, a passenger or driver in Paris is really taking their life into their own hands. Drivers have no real concept of ‘lanes’ – if there is room they try to fit into the spot. Motorcycles and mopeds are by far the worst, because they are small and maneuverable. I have seen them cross three lanes of traffic, turn perpendicular to the flow of traffic to get around a stopped car and then zoom off again, weaving in every direction. When I cross the street in the morning at the Place de la Republique, there are five lanes of traffic approaching. From any of the left-most three lanes, people will go either straight or try to turn left through the Place on the next street. Sometimes they try to do this at the same time. Some of the people in the right-most two lanes are trying to squeeze into the three lanes, and some are turning. It’s an absolute nightmare.
And then there are bike lanes there. Yes, for bicycles. Tonight two cyclists were going through the Place and a SmartCar (one of those Mercedes little cars) behind them (really no wider than the two bikes side-by-side) was honking madly. Yet he was driving in their lane.
So, I think not only would I not have a car, I might not have a bike either. Oh, for the lovely bike paths of Holland, where you have your own traffic signals (although not at all corners)!
Actually, watching drivers in Paris makes me yearn for the leisure days of driving in Toronto. How very relaxing that seems now! But in Toronto it’s unlikely that I would suddenly come upon a street market and be able to buy some pre-cooked chicken for supper. No, for that I would have to go to the grocery store.
A bientôt!
The other thing that’s different about this area is that, at least along Réanmur, it appears to be very much a business district; if anyone lives here, they must live on the side streets, because the Réanmur buildings are office buildings for sure. However, around the square that both the BN-Musique and the BN-Richelieu front, there are several residential buildings. Well, since I can’t imagine an office squeezing six or ten potted plants onto a balcony (or should I say an outcropping edged in wrought iron), I’ll assume they’re apartments.
The square (which has a large fountain – not running now, of course) used to be the site of an opera house (the eighth, apparently) and is now the site of my lunch. Today, because it’s quite cold, I ate my lunch with my mittens on. There are a few chairs just outside the door of the reading room where today I saw two women eating their lunch – proof that the French do indeed pack lunches from home and don’t always eat baguettes – and I may try that spot tomorrow as the projected high is around 3 Celsius.
The other thought that has occurred to me lately is this: if I ever moved to Paris, and I wanted a car, I would find a place to park my car that was so far out of the city I would never have to drive here. Although it’s quite safe to be a pedestrian, a passenger or driver in Paris is really taking their life into their own hands. Drivers have no real concept of ‘lanes’ – if there is room they try to fit into the spot. Motorcycles and mopeds are by far the worst, because they are small and maneuverable. I have seen them cross three lanes of traffic, turn perpendicular to the flow of traffic to get around a stopped car and then zoom off again, weaving in every direction. When I cross the street in the morning at the Place de la Republique, there are five lanes of traffic approaching. From any of the left-most three lanes, people will go either straight or try to turn left through the Place on the next street. Sometimes they try to do this at the same time. Some of the people in the right-most two lanes are trying to squeeze into the three lanes, and some are turning. It’s an absolute nightmare.
And then there are bike lanes there. Yes, for bicycles. Tonight two cyclists were going through the Place and a SmartCar (one of those Mercedes little cars) behind them (really no wider than the two bikes side-by-side) was honking madly. Yet he was driving in their lane.
So, I think not only would I not have a car, I might not have a bike either. Oh, for the lovely bike paths of Holland, where you have your own traffic signals (although not at all corners)!
Actually, watching drivers in Paris makes me yearn for the leisure days of driving in Toronto. How very relaxing that seems now! But in Toronto it’s unlikely that I would suddenly come upon a street market and be able to buy some pre-cooked chicken for supper. No, for that I would have to go to the grocery store.
A bientôt!
