Provence Pooch of the Day (3)

Dog walking his owner
Originally uploaded by Taking5

Dog walking his owner in the Place de Palais des Papes, Avignon.

He's got the slim head of a hunting dog. Somehow, Avignon has fewer dogs than Paris.

Sur la Pont, d'Avignon

Today, we set off at last to view the sights of Avignon. Although we had been here since Monday (three days ago now) we had been occupied elsewhere, visiting Orange, Chateauneuf-de-Pape and the pretty little Provencal villages on Tuesday, then Arles yesterday.

So it was only today that we had the opportunity to take in the sights of Avignon. We went first to the biggie, the Palais des Papes in Avignon. The Palace of the Popes has indeed a special place in Catholic history. The uncertainties of the times in the 1300's drove the papacy out of Rome. The popes Clement V and John XXII then decided to settle in Avignon, creating the Avignon Papacy. Altogether, 7 Popes and 2 Antipopes resided in Avignon. The building is stark and severe, a fortress rather than a palace. Again, I suppose this reflects the uncertain times.


Whilst the Papacy returned to Rome in 1378, the Vatican retained Avignon in its possession as a Papal State, until the French Revolution. The Palace was then turned into a barracks for many years. As such, today, the Palace retains very little of the former grandeur it must have had in the days of the Popes. No furniture or hangings, or paintings. What does remain are some frescoes in some chapels and also in the Pope's bedroom. Well, the Pope may have stayed there over 600 years ago but that is still the nearest I will ever get to his bedroom. We were not allowed to take any photos, though.



We went then to the nice little church near our B&B, Eglise St Pierre. It is apparently one of the older churches in Avignon, after the cathdral Notre Dame-des-Doms. It has beautiful wooden doors, and is really ornately decorated inside.


We had lunch thereafter, at one of those little restaurants on the Place d'Horloge - definitely a tourist trap. It was a set meal with soup, a main course and dessert and I really would not recommend it to anyone. It was quite pleasant, however, watching the people in the square - particularly a little boy who was running around the place, shadowed by his anxious mother.

After lunch, we headed back to St Benezet's bridge. The bridge is only a half-bridge, with half of it destroyed by floods many years ago. Yet its fame has spread far and wide thanks to a simple little song:

"Sur le Pont d'Avignon,
on y danse,on y danse,
sur le pont d'Avignon,
on y danse tous en rond..."

St Benezet was a shepherd boy who heard voices telling him to build a bridge - he managed to convince people that he was divinely inspired when he was able to lift a huge stone that no one else could move. However, no one ever danced on the bridge because it was deemed too narrow. Rather, the people danced on the river islands on which the bridge had been built. Such is the power of song....




We wandered around the shops to buy some souvenirs after our visit to the bridge. Unfortunately, it had started to rain - an unpleasant, incessant drizzle which made it very irritating to shop. Avignon has a high street with many shops, no shopping centres per se. So in the end we made our way back to our B&B where I had some time to clear emails before going out for dinner. Dinner was at the Hotel de Palais - we ate at the restaurant hotel. It was a pleasant enough meal, but what I really liked was the fireplace in the middle of the room. It was one of those which looks like a log fire, until you notice that the logs aren't being consumed by the flames...

Looking back, it is indeed a pity that we did not have more time in Avignon. I'd have liked to have the opportunity to cross the river to visit Villeneuf le Avignon. Well, we had wanted to get to Avignon much earlier on the Monday but the trains did not allow. Likewise, we would be taking an extremely early train back to Paris the next day. So, our time in Avignon was curtailed a little more than we had initially hoped.


Here's photo link.

A Michelin Meal

Some people come to France just to collect Michelin stars, i.e. eat at Michelin-starred restaurants. I had only one such meal - at Christian Etienne in Avignon, a one-star Michelin restaurant. Probably that makes the meal all the more memorable for me.

By now, of course, we had eaten a number of good dinners in nice restaurants. But dining in a Michelin-starred restaurant is different. It is not just about the food - it is definitely about the service, too. The receptionist took my coat at the door, and we were given little stands to put our handbags on (we took some time to figure out why they had put these little iron things next to our chairs) and so on. And yes, they do take the time to explain the menu in English, and when dishes are brought to you they 'introduce' them to you. There were quite a number of service staff too - the maitre'd, his frenzied waiters and waitresses, all rushing around. The chef himself makes the rounds of the tables, greeting his guests. He definitely is not in the kitchen preparing your meal. But guess that is what being an executive chef is all about.

We started off with our aperitifs, bite-sized, tasty morsels. I had ordered tuna ceviche as a starter (essentially sashimi), lamb and asparagus as my main course and an orange and carrot macaron for dessert. I enjoyed the tuna sashimi - quite a substantial portion - but was less keen on the dried avocado which accompanied the dish as the rich, creamy texture of the avocado was completely lost. The lamb, on the other hand, was perfectly cooked, as were the asparagus accompanying the dish.


We had a little pineapple sorbet next, to cleanse the palate before dessert. I had a really interesting orange and carrot macaron with some almond sorbet. The carrot was raw, grated carrot sticking out of the middle of the macaron. Interesting, but somehow it worked. Our meal ended with coffee and a row of petit fours - we could not finish ours. It was definitely a very memorable meal. If you want to see all the food photos (not just the dishes) click here.


I've basically come to the conclusion that French food in general can be divided into a few categories:

a) traditional basic: your baguettes and pastries and the like, which are typically very good and tasty, likewise the patiesseries
b) fine dining: obviously very fine indeed (anything from 70Euros per person and up)
c) tourist food: generally not very good though quite cheap.
d) mid-price, good value meals: hard for tourists to find. (20-30Euros per person)

My sense is that unlike Italy, which does pretty good deals with their mid-range menus even in tourist joints (at least the tourist joints I haunted), the French tourist menu is just not that great. I recall having this lovely salad with beautiful fresh ingredients in Florence. But here in France, somehow if you go to a cafe by the Seine, for example, you know the quiche will be a little eggy and wet, the crepes will be covered with nutella and the salad will consist of a few soggy leaves and maybe a slice of tomato or two. But buy a baguette with some ham, or chicken, and you eat a good meal for about 4 Euros or so.

Sadly, I only discovered the website "Chocolate and Zucchini" nearer the end of my stay in Paris. The blogger, Clotilde Dusoulier, is a young Frenchwoman who went to the US to work and started cooking there. She came back to France, continued to cook and started a blog about her cooking, eating etc. She wrote in English, so as to keep on using the language and it became a big hit. One book deal followed, and then another. Clotilde is now a full time writer. Her latest book is "Clotilde's Edible Adventures in Paris" and it gives little tips on her favourite eateries in Paris. I managed to spot this on the shelves of "Shakespeare & Company", our last full day in Paris.

So for those intending to go to France in the near future, check out her site. And also, print out her French-English food glossary. I found that my little phrase book was most put to use in restaurants. Whilst I soon memorised "agneau" for lamb and "canard" for duck, there're a lot of of little phrases which I just can't remember.

Bon Appetit!

Provence Pooch of the Day (2)

Just me and my dogs
Originally uploaded by Taking5

Not one but 3 dogs in this photo (plus one gentleman). He was sitting on the steps of the Eglise St-Trophime in the Place de la Republique in Arles.

The church itself is known for its beautiful, ornate portal with columns and niches, with statues of saints, apostles, etc. It was only open after lunch...

Mistral reigns in Arles

Today, we went to Arles, taking a quick train from Avignon. Arles is a charming, eminently walkable town with all its key attractions in a relatively small area.


Our first stop was the farmers' market, just outside the city walls. We had decided to visit Arles on the Wednesday because this was the day the farmers' market was on and we would not be able to catch the farmer's market in Avignon (only on weekends). The market is indeed an entertaining place, full of shops selling olives, herbs, meat, fish and vegetables, cheese, honey and so on. We wandered through the food shops, and went through a few clothing and fabric shops. But at that point we reached our turning for one of the big attractions of Arles - its Roman arena.


Like Orange, and other towns in Provence, Arles is a former Roman town and has the arena, the theatre, and the baths to prove it. The arena is pretty big (there is a sign in the arena indicating the relative sizes of a number of the remaining Roman arenas) at 136 x 107m (I suppose this excludes the surrounding walls?). There were also a few signs here and there indicating where to go, and a nice view of Arles from the tower on top. But unlike the Orange Roman theatre, there was no autoguide and so it was less interesting a visit than it might have been.

We left the arena and found ourselves in the little row of fabric shops just outside the arena. I must admit we spent some time here looking at the fabrics and making little purchases.

The next stop was the Roman theatre. However, we took a quick look and decided not to go in. There was a fair amount of restoration work going on, in the first place - probably preparing the place for the summer rush. But, more importantly, the theatre was very much in ruins, with only two columns remaining of what must have been an impressive building. A very far cry from the well preserved theatre at Orange. Having seen that one, we were disinclined to go in.

We moved on, but since it was the lunch hour all the shops were shutting (except the eateries). We walked into the Cafe Des Arts opposite the Museum Arlaten (also shut) and found that that apparently, it was formerly a residence and Van Gogh used to stay there. Unwittingly, we were following a Van Gogh trail! Provence is associated with so many great painters and writers. Van Gogh spent a year in Arles, and apparently this was a very productive period for him. Guidebooks describe the "Van Gogh" trail and show the different spots he painted. Later in the day, we would walk through the Espace Van Gogh, which used to be a mental hospital, where Van Gogh was treated and is now a cultural centre. In the central courtyard is a sign with a reproduction of a Van Gogh painting of the hospital. The buildings are painted and the courtyard laid out in the manner depicted in the painting, a nice little tribute to Van Gogh. Of course, it is a little too late considering Van Gogh's talents were never appreciated in his time. Incidentally, there is only one single Van Gogh painting in the whole of Provence - I think in a museum in Avignon. Of course we did not go there and so the only Van Gogh I did see in my time in France was the one in the Rodin Museum in Paris - that of La Pere Tanguy.

But Van Gogh was only a visitor. Arles' favourite son is indubitably Frederic Mistral, Nobel Laureate (Literature, 1904). His statue is in the town square, and his legacy lives on in the Museum Arlatan, which was set up with the Nobel prize money, and which we visited when it opened after the lunch hour. The museum is focused on Provencal dress, traditions, culture etc. It didn't allow photos though. Hence, no photos of its exhibits. I did see, however, a small little figure of the "Tarasque", a legendary monster of Provence. We had first about the Tarasque the previous day from our guide as she drove us through the town of Tarascon. The story is that the Tarasque was terrorising a town in France and was only defeated by St Martha. The town was thereafter renamed Tarascon. Other exhibits included large, lifesize models of family events, eg visitors to a mother and her new baby.

I walked next to the Roman baths, described in the guidebook as "well preserved". Well, it is all relative. Again, a lot of restoration work was going on, but most of the building had gone. On the other hand, it seemed in better condition than the ruins of the Roman bath I recall in Fiesole.

In general, I enjoyed our little visit to Arles. However, Arles' tourism body has some work to do. Overall, the presentation and the information provided at the Roman sites were far behind the very comprehensive audio guide provided in Orange's roman theatre. I saw my second French feline here, though (at the baths). Such a rare sight is indeed worth mentioning :-)

Photos of Arles.

Provence Pooch of the Day (1)

Provence Pooch
Originally uploaded by Taking5

So I was wandering the streets of Les Baux Provence when I spotted this large animal looking rather woebegone in a corner.

There were many, many dogs in Les Baux Provence. As I mentioned earlier, I suspect a certain amount of domestic tourism with the pets brought on holiday as well.

It was a challenge to choose my Pooch of the Day. He gets it because he was one of the bigger dogs I've met so far. You don't see it from this photo, but that was a pretty big pot.

Toujours Provence

At last! The Provence I had been waiting for, the Provence of golden sunshine on green fields and vineyards, the Provence of Peter Mayle. We had had a little taste of it in Chateauneuf-du -Pape. This afternoon, we would be going around the charming villages of Provence, some of “le plus beaux villages de France”.

We had picked up a number of people in Avignon (and dropped off the one chap who had joined us during the morning). Two were Japanese, one was Australian and another from Argentina, plus one American couple from (if I recall correctly) Michigan. So Caroline, our guide, had more people to explain things to. And since Americans tend to ask a lot of questions, we learnt a lot more. For example, the difference between lavende and lavendin. Apparently, the “true” lavender is lavende; it grows in higher regions and tends to be finer. Lavendin on the other hand grows at lower altitudes and tends to have a far stronger (not necessarily a bad thing?) and more camphorated smell. More details can be found on the lavender museum website (fine lavender is lavende and spike lavender, lavendin). According to the French, “true” lavender is found only in Provence but lavendin can be found anywhere (more common) such as the variety found in Hokkaido, Japan (the Japanese couple were saddened to hear this).

We also had the pleasure of hearing our guide correct the American gentleman’s attempts at pronouncing French words. I was reminded of the comment in Sixty Million Frenchmen that the French have no compunction about correcting pronunciation and grammar mistakes made by others.

Our first stop was however not in a little Provencal village but at Pont-du-Gard, a Roman aqueduct which spanned the River Gardon (at its narrowest point) and which is yet another UNESCO world heritage site. The total length of the aqueduct is about 50 kilometres, stretching from its originating spring, near Uzès to Nîmes. The bridge has three levels, the first the arches spanning the river, the next carrying the water and the third a series of small arches to cover the water channel so it arrives at its destination cleaner. It amazed me to see how broad the bridge was. It is broad enough for a little car to drive on. The bridge is in excellent condition – likely there have been some repairs and restoration work done but in general, those Romans did a good job. As I said before, they knew what they were doing.

Leaving the bridge, we went first to Les Baux de Provence. Now I am a little annoyed with myself because I didn’t catch that the chateau in this village is supposed to be one of those major sights to see in the whole of Provence. I can’t recall Caroline mentioning it, but she did mention most things so maybe I just missed it. Anyway, Les Baux is a village on a hill in the middle of this huge valley of strangely shaped stones. The houses in the village are made of similar stone – they are all of similar colour. Life must be hard here outside tourist season. It was already fairly windy when we were there – I cannot imagine what it must be like during the period of the mistral when the wind howls around the windows and doors. What was surprising was the large number of dogs in this little village. I can only conclude that there is a fair amount of domestic tourism and the French take their dogs on holiday. Sometimes, it can result in little confrontations...

We drove next to the little village of Gordes. Now Gordes is famous for being one of the most beautiful villages in France, but in addition it was the location for the café featured in the movie “A Good Year” starring Russell Crowe and Albert Finney (Russell Crowe’s character gets together with the owner of the café). I’d just happened to catch the movie on cable before leaving Singapore (I read the book as well – there are certain differences) and frankly, I found it hard to recognize the café, but fortunately our guide was able to direct us to the correct spot. Gordes was even windier than Les Baux and it seemed to me that some of the attractions were closed so even after you walk down the hill against the wind you don’t get rewarded by getting to see something interesting. We did visit the little village church.

It was at the point of our departure from Gordes that the Argentinian lady informed our guide that she had to catch the 7.40pm TGV train from Avignon to Lyon. Caroline said that she wished that the Argentinian lady could have told her a little earlier of the train time. Now here you must understand that there sometimes seems to be some differences in timing from the website to what the tour operator is working on. For example, we thought that our tour to the chateaux in the Loire Valley would end comfortably by 7pm when it ended a little after, resulting in a great rush for us to catch our train back to Paris. Here, she apparently thought the tour would end at 7pm when it was actually ending at 7.30pm. Moral of the story: always ask what time the tour ends and tell the driver if you need to take a train.

We rushed to the next stop – the village of Roussillon, famous for its beautiful red, orange and ochre coloured houses. The clay for the houses was taken from the nearby cliffs – which are of red, orange, ochre etc. It was probably the prettiest of the three villages we had seen that day. But the sun was going down and the shops were starting to close. Anyway, we rushed straight back to Avignon TGV station and got there by 7.30am – just in time for the Argentinian lady to catch her train! We gave Caroline a round of applause.

We drove back to Avignon city centre after that exciting dash to the train station. Since we were tired out, we had a quiet dinner of moulles frittes at a German eatery we had seen the previous day. Washed down with a glass of Kanterbrau beer.

Toujours Provence, indeed. It was A Good Day. Lots of great photos.


p.s. Incidentally it was not exactly my dream day in Provence. It was slightly overcast. But then, it does make it more comfortable to walk around.

In the footsteps of Popes and Emperors

Today, we took a day tour around Provence. I like taking day tours of the countryside; for people like us who don't want to drive around it makes a lot of sense because we can cover a lot of ground in one day. But because we covered so much ground, there's so much to say that I'll have to divide this into two posts.

Our first stop that morning was in Orange, to see the Roman ruins there - the triumphal arch and the antique theatre. Orange was originally known as Arausio but over time, the name got corrupted to Orange. It has nothing to do with the fruit. Our guide, Caroline, told us that the title of the Dutch “Prince of Orange” was originally derived from Orange here in France. I was puzzled. But looking it up when I got home, it appears that the title was originally derived through inheritance – the cross-border marriages of state which took place in those days. Even though the Prince of Orange has not “ruled” over Orange for centuries, the title is still used today. It reminds one how deeply rooted in its history Europe is, that the origins of these ancient names and titles are still known today.

Anyway, the first stop was at the well-preserved Roman triumphal arch, erected to mark the site of a great victory (the Arc de Triomphe in Paris and other arches are copies of the Roman arches). The sculptures on the sides of the arch still visible, as are the bullet marks, evidence of a less peaceful past. This was essentially a photo stop and we moved on quickly.

The antique theatre was seriously impressive. It is actually a UNESCO heritage site. I’d seen Roman ampitheatres before (Rome, Verona, Fiesole for example) but this was an antique theatre, an open-air theatre with a huge stage wall and the tiers of seats in front. In its day, it could seat up to 10,000 spectators. There was even some light roof covering. From what we were told, it is apparently the best preserved Roman theatre in Europe. The most prominent point in the theatre was a statue of the Emperor right at the top of the stage wall. There was a good audio tour which took us from point to point, and from this I learnt that actually the Emperor’s head could be removed, and would be replaced whenever there was a change in Emperor.

The rest of the stage wall would have been beautifully decorated with more statues in the niches. But these were removed over time. The theatre fell into disuse at one point and there were houses and even churches built inside it. There are little cavities in the stage wall, created by the inhabitants when they tried to use the wall as a support for beams and such. These were cleared out eventually and the theatre restored.

We climbed to the top of the theatre and there found a long covered corridor which curved around the seats. I was walking slightly ahead when my friend said that she couldn’t see me. I turned around and indeed she was not there – the curve of the corridor hid us from each other. That was when I realised just how good the acoustics were. It was like a whispering corridor – say something at one end and someone on the other end can hear it too. These Romans really knew their stuff.

The good thing about going on guided tours is that they take you very quickly to some key sights; the problem is that we miss a lot of little things along the way. In this case, we did not have time to look at the ruins of the temple beside the theatre or to visit the museum across from the theatre.

We went next to Chateauneuf-du-Pape, so called because the Popes in Avignon built a summer residence here to get away from the big city. The chateau is now a complete ruin, with only two walls left but there is a good view of the surrounding region from the hill. The popes did, however, leave an enduring legacy. They started vineyards and making wine here (one assumes it was for religious purposes). Today, Chateauneuf-du-Pape is an appellation wine. In a village of some 1,000 souls, there are 300 wine makers. I presume some of the employees are from the surrounding areas. Our guide noted that the reason why the area was so good for grapes was because of the rocky ground. The stones soak up the sunshine during the day, and then slowly releases the heat at the night.

We visited a wine museum and did a little wine-tasting of the Chateauneuf-du-Pape at maison Brotte. We tried the white and the red; apparently only 5% of the wine produced in this area is white wine, and is wholly consumed within France. The red wine is exported. Because of strict standards, the grapes of this wine must include Syrah (Shiraz) and Granache grapes. Here I must proudly boast about my very little wine knowledge, gathered over a few wine lessons: I could detect the peppery taste of the Granache grape.

After our wine tasting, our tour driver drove us back to Avignon; she had more passengers to pick up for the afternoon session. We had picked up some lunch (I got a beef pie) in Orange, we munched it as we went along. It was a good morning, which promised much for the afternoon.

Provence photos are here.

Le Chat Noir

Le Chat Noir
Originally uploaded by Taking5

So the pooch of the day today is a cat!

Well, it was the first cat I saw in France. So it deserves a special mention.

As you can see, I only managed to catch a glimpse before he disappeared behind the fencing.

From Paris to Avignon

Today, we left Paris for Avignon. We had spent much of the previous night packing up. So, we spent the morning taking our last look at Paris.

First, coffee in a small specialist coffee shop and then we walked to the Pompidou area and then to Les Halles. It was all very ordinary and then I had two firsts! First, I saw my first McDonald’s in France. It was near Les Halles and aside from a small unobtrusive sign above the entrance, the Golden Arches were not in sight. Guess McDonald’s has finally learnt about French subtlety. Then, I walked a little further and spotted my first cat! However, it swiftly dashed away from me into a fenced area where I could not follow. We wandered around till it was time to go to the train station.

We were taking the TGV from Gare de Lyon to Avignon Central. It was a fairly smooth journey and I was able to update my journal, look at my photos and do the accounts along the way. We picked up a taxi at Avignon Central and he took us to our B&B, La Banesterie. The taxi driver drove rather rapidly around the walls of Avignon till he reached the entrance gate nearest our B&B (near the Palais des Papes, or Palace of the Popes). Then he made his way through a maze of little streets before stopping in front of an ancient building with a statue of Mary above the door. I was delighted.

We were holding up traffic (this was a narrow, cobblestoned street which allows only one car through at a time) so we quickly disembarked and entered the house. The first thing which I noticed was the smell of chocolate, lingering in the air. Our host was a tall Frenchman with a curly mop of hair. He took us to our room and then sat down with us and a map of Avignon to mark his recommended restaurants on our map.

Wandering around the B&B only confirmed our impressions. It is a really charming old place with low timbered ceilings, uneven floors, small narrow staircases (of course our room is on the third floor, thank goodness the ceilings are low), lovely old furniture etc etc. There are also signature chains of “glowing roses” in each room. Our room also had a little plate of chocolates and a lavendar pouch on the bed. Details, details.

We took a walk out to see the sights that evening and wandered around Avignon. The Palais des Papes, the Place de l’Horloge, the Rue de la Republique where the high street shops were and the small little boutiques in the pedestrianised area and along Rue Joseph Vernet. We found many closed (many shops close on Mondays and typically close on weekdays at 7pm) so there was a certain amount of window shopping. Finally, however, it was 8pm when restaurants started to open (here they keep Paris time!) and we went to La Compagnie des Comptoirs for dinner. It was a new trendy restaurant in an old convent with the swankiest toilet I saw in France. (I did not realize until I checked out the weblink that it was originally opened by a pair of celebrated Michelin-starred chefs who were identical twins - Jacques and Laurent Pourcel). It was serving fusion-ish food. I had sashimi with a sort of cream cheese layer on it for starters. Then, a huge serving of this pork dish which was like kong bak with lots of honey involved – yummy, but I had a problem here because I don’t really want to eat all the fat but of course that is the nice part of the dish, so ended up removing the fat on two out of the three huge pieces of kong bak and eating only the last one in its entirety. That piece was truly delectable. The dessert was a spiced poached pear with chocolate and ice cream. It was nice but the table next to us was celebrating a birthday and the birthday cake featured not a candle but a sparkler! I just hoped that the rest of our stay in Avignon would sparkle too. The weather report is not good.

Photos here.

Paris Pooch of the Day (6)

How much is that doggie in the window
Originally uploaded by Taking5

Ok, I admit it. For some reason, I forgot about taking dog photos in my mad dash from place to place during the day.

So that's a dog from yesterday, taken at the restaurant we went to. He was really a friendly little thing who got on very well with the people at the only other occupied table.

Spirit and Structure

Today was our last full day in Paris – how time has flown.

We went for mass in Notre Dame – we’d checked out the mass times when we were there previously. It was an interesting mass. The previous day, the cathedral had hosted “La ceremonie d’adoubement des nouveaux Chevalier et d’investiture des ecclesiastiques et dames de l’Ordre equestre du Saint-Sepulcre de Jerusalem”, which I presume means the investiture of the new knights and dames of the Equestrian Order of the Holy Sepulchre of Jerusalem. I looked the name of the order up subsequently; at the time I read the notice I thought it was the “Order of Saint Sepulchre” and was thinking how strange it was to have a saint with such a name… pardon my (lack of) French indeed. Anyway, the mass appeared to be a celebratory mass for the new knights and dames, who filed in procession down the aisle to their reserved seats in the front of the church. The celebrant was Cardinal John Patrick Foley (a US Cardinal), the Grand Master of the Order.

The other unique feature of the mass was that it was sung in Gregorian chant, so the Gloria, Kyrie, Agnus Dei etc were in Latin. I remember thinking how pleased my dear mother would be – she’d know all the words and probably could sing along quite comfortably.

After mass, I had wanted to see St Chapelle – but was confronted by a fairly long queue. So we had lunch instead at a café on the Left Bank, opposite the Notre Dame. It was a pleasant little seat, with a good view of the river, and the buildings on the Ile de la Cité so although the restaurant was pretty pricey for the rather average food we got, we were nonetheless fairly happy.
I realized from scrutinizing my guidebook that we were only a block or two away from the Shakespeare and Co bookshop. So as soon as I’d downed my “Belle Epoque” crepe (bananas, chocolates, almonds, and four huge globs of Chantilly cream) I popped off to see the bookshop whilst my friend went off to another flea market. I’d read about the bookshop in my guidebooks and I must say I wasn’t disappointed. First, it was open - in Paris on a Sunday - and pretty crowded too! There was a quiet buzz about the place, people standing about the door looking at the Seine and the Notre Dame - a pleasant place to be.


Shakespeare & Co is an antiquarian bookshop, and indeed it reminded me of the old second hand bookshops down Charing Cross Road in London. But there are new books too, and a good section just inside which features books about France (all in English of course). The very thing I was looking for! So I bought a book (mentioned in an earlier post; now you know that I did edit my posts before putting them up) entitled “Sixty Million Frenchmen can’t be Wrong” by Jean-Benoit Nadeau and Julie Barlow, an attempt to explain “what makes the French so French”. We all know the French Paradox – they drink lots of wine, cheese and other fatty foods and yet have low obesity and few heart problems. Likewise, although the French seem to have high taxes, restrictive labour laws, large public sector etc etc – the economy still seems to be doing pretty well (in relative terms), with high labour productivity. The authors’ theory is that the reason why France works is the harmony between the “spirit” of the French and the structures they have given themselves, and the book spells this out in greater detail. I could have bought more books if I’d wanted to, but time was short and the weight of my baggage a weighty issue indeed. I was rather pleased, though that the book bears a “Shakespeare and Co” stamp on it.

The rest of the day was spent museum visiting, to maximize my museum pass (especially since I couldn’t go into Ste-Chapelle). Started off at the Louvre, where I’d decided to look more at the French paintings and early European paintings. There was another contemporary art exhibition going on at the time by Jan Fabre and the exhibits were scattered throughout the Louvre – so when I went into this huge room of old European paintings to see a coffin with a peacock head and tail sticking out.


I was running late after rushing through the French painters, but I could not resist and just before I left, went to take a peek at the Leonardo paintings – the Madonna of the Rocks, Virgin & St Anne and the one and only Mona Lisa. There were some “da Vinci Code” moments, I must admit. I checked out the weight of the Madonna on the Rocks and speculated whether it would be indeed possible for an elderly man with a bullet wound to insert a secret message behind it. As for the Mona Lisa, the best picture I got was of the crowd around her. (Note: After coming back to Singapore I discovered that the Louvre actually has a thematic trail on the “Da Vinci Code” which includes their comments on the factual elements in the book.)
I had planned to meet my friend at the Rodin Museum and so I rushed there. By this time, I was pretty exhausted, having rushed from place to place and wandering around the Louvre without many opportunities to take the weight off my feet. The Rodin Museum, like the Picasso museum, is in a huge old mansion. But the difference is that this was not being renovated and there was a great difference indeed. It was a pleasure to walk through the beautiful rose garden to the statue of The Thinker in the middle. The museum was closing soon so I had only a few minutes to rush through the rooms (it said that it was closing at 5.45pm but in reality they chased us out with about 10 minutes to spare).

We went that night for dinner at Restaurant 404, recommended by Eric as one of the best North African restaurants in Paris. It had a great atmosphere indeed and we were fortunate to get in there by 8.05pm. We were seated together with a couple who had not made a reservation (I have not sat with another group at a restaurant since my student days in London). But it was easy to see why they did that – the place had many reserved seats and it filled up pretty fast. By seating us together it was more likely that we would be served and leave at the same time, so there would be a whole table of 4 released, giving them more flexibility. I enjoyed the dinner – had a tagine of duck and apple which I rather enjoyed. We had dessert and also some mint tea, which I’ve not drunk since I was in Dubai (really must remember to do it here in Singapore, especially as I have a pot of fresh mint just outside the door!).

But we could not stay and soak up the atmosphere. Back to the apartment to pack!

Incidentally, for the whole of our stay in Paris, I never did manage to get online. Most of these posts were written off notes done during our stay there and then posted once we got back to Singapore.

P.S. Ok, I admit it! I also had to see the spot where the big inverted glass pyramid and the small little pyramid almost touched. Here it is.

p.p.s. I am also not unaware that the "Grand Master" phrase has Da Vinci Code echoes.

Paris Pooch of the Day (5)

A storekeeper's dog, in the flea market. He was a friendly little thing. Ran around, and then lifted his leg by a floor sign.



Before coming to France, my friend warned me about dog poo in Paris. I did keep an eye out and whilst the danger of stepping on a piece of dog poo is there, it was not as bad as he made it out to be.



Maybe he had an unfortunate accident?

Flotsam and Jetsam

Today, we spent the morning at the flea market, Marché aux Puces de St-Ouen. When we talk about a flea market in this context, we are actually talking about several different buildings, each packed with stalls selling slightly different items. Some sell antiques, but most really sell second-hand stuff, or really new items which are reproductions of the old stuff. These buildings are then surrounded by a lot of little shops selling cheap clothes, leather products, etc on the fringes.

My favourite market was the Marché Jules Vallès. This particular market sold old pieces of furniture, books, what have you. It was like an extended attic full of the flotsam and jetsam of many people’s lives. You could find anything in these markets, from an old keyboard, to clocks, to old porcelain statues missing a hand or a foot, to a kitchen stove and even an old Jaguar (yes, as in the car).


I would find it so difficult to work out what was a potential collectable which just needed a little restoration work, from what was really a piece of junk. For example, there was an old violin, probably three-quarter size. I was reminded of my sister’s old violin, which she used as a child. It was originally in my grandfather’s house and missed its strings, was covered in dirt and (if I’m correct) also missed its neck rest. When we got it cleaned up, it was actually quite a good violin. My sister used it until she grew out of it and got her very own, full-sized violin. But it was her violin teacher who made the call that it was usable, not me.

Actually, the flea market reminded me a little of my grandfather’s garage – which is probably the reason why I liked it so much. It even had the same, dusty smell.

We had a quick lunch and then I went off on my own to the Tuileries Gardens. I got off at the Louvre metro stop, then walked down the length of the gardens to reach the Musée de l’Orangerie. Now the Tuileries Gardens have at either end these large fountains, surrounded by sandy pathways… I realized just how sandy when I saw the sand blow in the wind. So I got off the main paths to walk down a quiet tree-lined avenue where there were fewer people and hence less disturbance of the sand. Nonetheless, my shoes were covered in dust.

Now, I’d bought the 2-day Paris Museum Pass the previous day from FNAC (the French Virgin Megastore counterpart which sells books, DVDs, CDs, electronic equipment etc). The virtue of the Museum Pass is that you don’t need to queue to get in. Or at least, you get your own separate queue. So I waltzed past all these people who presumably had queued for a while and walked to the head of separate queue. So it saves time (it also saves money if you go to enough museums, especially the more pricey ones) which can be better spent looking at exhibits.

The L’Orangerie is famed for the huge paintings of water lilies by Monet, which were a gift from him to the French State. The oval shape of the rooms were determined by him and he then worked his paintings (partially completed at the time the location was decided upon) to fit the space. There are a total of 8 paintings, 4 in each room. They depict water lilies at different times of the day. According to the AV show, Monet loved the subject of water lilies because the combination of the flowers, water, and the sky and clouds reflected in the water was like the combination of the earth, sea and sky – a limitless, boundary-less world, without any fixed focal point so the eye looks everywhere at once. The rooms, two ovals connected to each other, symbolize infinity. I sat in front of each painting, to soak this serene world in.

The L’Orangerie is actually a very manageable museum. Aside from the water lilies, there is a small very select collection of paintings. The original collector was a Paris art dealer, Paul Guillaume, who bought many of the paintings. After his death, his wife continued his collection and then gave them to the state. There are Renoirs, Cezannes and Matisses.

Now the plan was that I would meet my friend at the Picasso Museum in the Marais area later that evening. So I thought I would take a look around the shops and buildings in the Marais area. The word “Marais” means “marsh” and so the buildings in this area were built on reclaimed marshland. Many were built by the rich and wealthy, in particular the beautiful Place de Vosges, famous for its symmetrical layout. Cardinal Richelieu stayed here in 1615. Maison de Victor Hugo (I didn’t go in though) is in one corner. Hugo stayed here for many years and wrote Les Miserables here. Indeed, the Marais is a charming area, with beautiful old houses and buildings. I wandered around these narrow old streets (quite different from other parts of Paris) and made my way to the Musee Picasso.

I thought I would be able to spend some time here. But the Musee Picasso appeared to be undergoing some renovation. There was scaffolding outside (this is why there is no photo) and inside, everything seemed a little less permanent in nature with what appeared to be temporary signs and I could not seem to find the more famous paintings as listed in my guidebook (I forgot to pick up the museum guide, a hazard of getting the museum pass). I did find a rather nice little AV theatrette showing a film of the master at work – he’s painting on glass, the camera is on the other side so you can see what he paints. I also quite liked the exhibition of photos of Picasso by many famous photographers – Man Ray, Cecil Beaton, amongst others. Anyway, somehow I finished it in double-quick time. Then it started to rain… of course that day I did not bring my umbrella… so I was stuck in the shop for some time. The rain died, I ventured out and since it was still rather early (I’d planned for a two hour visit to the museum but lasted only an hour there) I was very fortunate to bump into my friend in the street! We happily went back home to take a rest before dinner.

Dinner that evening was in the little neighbourhood restaurant around the corner from our apartment. We walked there around 7.20pm and found that it would not open till 8pm (that was when we found out that restaurants open about 8pm in France). On previous evenings, we must have reached the restaurants just after 8pm. So we wandered around and returned to the restaurant. We were the first customers in and spent some time deciphering the menu. The next group of customers (all 3 of them) walked in and ordered the beef fondue. So when we tried to order it, we were told that there was no beef left! Amazing. Did she have a huge lunch crowd? So we had to have fish instead (that was the only other item available on the menu). At least, we got to eat escargot. Ok, but not great. Well, we are talking about snails here. The owner’s cute little dog was running around in the restaurant – where are the environmental inspectors in France! Parisians indeed do love their dogs!

Pooch of the Day (4)

This gentleman was in the middle of the Rue du Gros Horloge, together with his little friend. His owner was (I suspect) hoping for funds to help with upkeep but he was in conversation with some other person so I snapped this photo and walked away.

Of Cathedrals and Saints

Today, we took the train down to Rouen. We went down to Gare St-Lazare and found out that the train we were planning to take, was only scheduled for one day a year ! and as such had to take a later train, due to leave one hour later. That's what comes of not reading footnotes. Might be slightly difficult if they are in French, but at least there would have been some sort of warning. Anyway, we walked out for a short stroll about the place and did some window shopping before returning to catch our train.


We eventually arrived in Rouen just before 12 noon and found our way into the old city. Apparently Rouen suffered considerable damage during World War II but even so, there were many old, half-timbered houses which survived from the time. And certainly, the narrow, cobblestonee streets appear to be in good order. We walked down to Hotel de Ville and the neighbouring Eglise St-Ouen. Unfortunately the church was closed and we could not get in. But behind the church, we found a quiet park. It was lunch hour (maybe the reason why the church was closed) and many people were lying on the grass, enjoying the sun. This gentleman was definitely having a nap.


Rouen, we found, was a more leisurely place than Paris. People greeted each other with the traditional pecks on the cheeks, which we did not see in Paris. Drivers stop for people at the zebra crossings on the road. And lunch hour was definitely sacred. The church, various shops, and the tourist office were all closed. So we did as the people of Rouen did and lunched on baguettes in a square beside the cathedral.


Rouen is also full of Japanese tourists. The only spot open in the tourist office was the service point for Japanese tour groups. We also saw them in the streets, taking photos of the cathedral, and even at the next table to ours, sipping a cup of coffee. They were in the cathedral, too. I suppose it is because Rouen is such a convenient day out from Paris, and makes a nice accompaniment to a visit to Giverny. A "Monet day"!



Of course, the cathedral is the main attraction of any trip to Rouen. Its tall towers, intricate facade and delicate stonework are indeed very beautiful. But its main attraction had to be that it was painted so many times by Monet. Going inside, what I found interesting was the many little placards in the side chapels which described the chapel's contents and showed pictures of how the cathedral had been damaged in WWII. One placard in one particular chapel noted that this was the only chapel which had survived the bombs on that side of the cathedral and if it had been destroyed, likely the whole nave would have fallen in, and the whole cathedral destroyed. Here it is, with its wood-panelled walls and paintings still intact...


We were also lucky that the cathedral had been recently restored. In places like France and Italy, restoration is indeed a never-ending task, because of the number of such beautiful old buildings. No sooner is restoration completed on all the buildings, that it is time to start again. But it is well worth the effort as beautiful stone emerges from beneath centuries of grime.


We walked from the cathedral to this little street of shops, Rue de Gros Horloge to the Gros Horloge, or this big clock and the tall tower beside it. This was the shopping street in Rouen and as lunch time was past, it had come back to life. We made a little detour to the Palais du Justice, the old Normam Parliament Building and then found our way to the little church of St Joan of Arc, or Eglise Ste-Jeanne d'Arc.


St Joan of Arc is a French national heroine. Her feast day is celebrated throughout France, and the church is just part of a larger national monument to her. It is a small modern church, built besides the ruins of an older building (destroyed during WWII?). The church is roughly fan-shaped in area and has a whole wall of large, stained glass panels across the diameter of the hall. A flower bed outside marks the spot where Joan was burnt at the stake. On the other side of the church, is the marketplace. It seems a little incongruous but on the other hand, who knows? It could have stood there for many years before being rebuilt in a more modern manner...


We got back from Rouen that evening, in time for dinner at the restaurant in Nicholas Flamel's old house. It was a pretty restaurant, a charming place to have a meal. And service was pretty good. The food however, missed that special something. The appetisers were fine. I really enjoyed my foie gras with the baked gala apples on it. But my 7-hour lamb was a teensy bit dry. I also swapped dessert with my friend and her ginger creme brulee was not really very exciting.

After dinner, we went back to the apartment - to finish washing our clothes. Because we had no drier, the apartment was covered with clothes after that.

Photos here!

Paris Pooch of the Day (3)

Take me somewhere fun
Originally uploaded by Taking5

Would I forget? This little fella was in one of the shops we visited in the market. No, he wasn't supposed to be there. But he was.

Plus de Repression

Plus de Repression
Originally uploaded by Taking5

When we met Eric at the metro station earlier in the day, he told us that there was supposed to be a strike that day (actually I had heard about this whilst in Singapore, but forgot about it). He was concerned that his students would have difficulties getting to the assigned meeting spot as a result. But it looked as though the transport workers, at any rate, were working.

Later that evening, however, we went to Galeries Lafayette and found that the streets were unnaturally empty and some even barricaded. Then, we saw, a procession approaching. It turned out that the French public sector unions were striking over the increase in the number of years they had to work before qualifying for a full pension. The retirement age before getting their pension is 60 years, but they have to work for 40 years (now being raised to 41 years) before getting the full pension.

The protests were taking place in Central Paris, and this photo was taken just outside Galeries Lafayette. It shows the start of the procession - when we left the building some 1.5 hours later, there were stil a few stragglers passing by.

I'd bought a book - "Sixty Million Frenchmen can't be Wrong", by Jean-Benoit Nadeau and Julie Barlow. This book attempts to deconstruct the French psyche, to help us understand them better. The authors lived in Paris for 2 years and describe in their book how they would check the newspapers for the "forecast" on which roads would be closed due to protests taking place. According to the authors, these forecasts were generally very reliable. To quote a short extract from the book,

"What the French really excel at is protesting. Protests, marches and demonstrations are an essential element of the French social fabric. Rich or poor, bourgeois or working class, the French have no inhibitions when it comes to taking their views to the street, grabbing a sign, chanting slogans, forming human chains around towns, or cracking fireworks in front of bored riot squads. Protest, to the French, is not a mere expression of frustration. It is an important rite of public life"

According to the authors, the French culture and tolerance of protest has its roots in the French Revolution, when the people took to the streets. The French people take these protests in their stride, with probably only tourists bothering to photograph the strikers.

Just to complete the events of the day - after our busy morning at the cooking class, we walked up some 9 flights of stairs (20 stairs each) to the Sacre-Coeur. The place was thronged with tourists. The Sacre-Coeur does not allow any photos to be taken. This in a sense helped preserve the sense of tranquility and holiness in the church.

After our visit to Sacre Coeur, we wandered around Montmarte, did a little shopping and found ourselves in a little church, St Jean l'Evangeliste de Montmarte. It was a simple red brick building but had really beautiful stained glass windows within. It was after our visit to the church that we went to Galeries Lafayette.

Given that we'd had a big lunch that day, we had bread and soup for dinner. Thanks to the lack of serving spoons, we had to drink our soup with teaspoons. If ever you want to make your food go a longer way, that's one way to do it.

Photos here!

Cook'n with Class

Today we went for our French cooking class (including market visit, 3 course meal) at the cooking school "Cook'n with Class". Our chef teacher, Eric Fradeau, speaks excellent English – indeed, he was in New York for 7 years working for a hotel chain which got him to set up restaurants in their hotels. But he decided he wanted to try something on his own and Voila! Back in Paris, in his cooking school.


We were a class of 7 altogether: the two of us, a mother and 2 daughters from Canada, and this couple who happened to stay in the same neighbourhood as Eric did when in New York. We discussed menus on the way to the shops – decided upon mussels at the beginning, saw what was available in the shops for the starter, and so on (the French typically eat what's in season). For dessert, we decided upon the chocolate lava cake. Yum!


Market visit was not to a market per se but rather to a little series of shops on the street near the metro stop (Rue du Poteau). Our first stop was a horse shop. Now Eric prounounces horse “ors” so one of the Canadian ladies thought he was saying “ox”. But the horse heads on the sign gives it away. Eric says that the French are losing the taste for horse meat. There are now fewer horse meat shops in Paris than there used to be, and it is eaten largely by the old. Of course, the French do not eat the whole horse. Just three parts – the rump, tenderloin (and I forget the third). For hygiene reasons horse meat must be sold on its own and not with the other meats, hence these stand alone shops.


We next visited the cheese shop or fromagerie. I rather liked the shop, with the huge variety of cheese available to look at – from France and other regions in Europe (Italy, Switzerland and Holland). We got some cheeses here. Then, the butcher shop (boucherie) – again, incredible variety - with rabbit, chicken, duck, lamb, pork etc. Some with the "AOC" tag to show that it is meat of the highest standards. There was a “no dogs” sign in the shop but dogs were still pottering in and out. Need a proper leashing area for the dogs outside, since it would be impossible to think that the French would leave their dogs at home.


Next to the fishmongers (le poissonnerie), where we were going to get our mussels plus two large sea bream. The fishmonger de-scaled, de-boned and filleted the fish on the spot for us. Finally, the vegetable shop where we were shown around all the varieties of beautiful tomatoes, potatoes and so on – and where we also picked up bunches of white asparagus for our appetizer, in addition to loads of veggie and salad items - macha leaves or “lamb lettuce”, oranges, a tomato, potatoes, celeriac (celery root tuber – now I know what that looks like) plus lots of herbs - flat leaf parsley, tarragon, and a bouquet garni of thyme and bay leaves, and some strawberries and raspberries to accompany our dessert. And just before our arrival at our cooking school, we picked up some bread from an artisan boulanger, i.e. the baker bakes from scratch including milling his own cereal. No short cuts on food for the French.


What was really charming was that these little stand alone shops have not been completely replaced by supermarkets. The variety and high quality of goods available in each shop indeed is better than anything I've seen in Singapore.

We then proceeded for class, which was very nearby. Eric's chosen his spot well. This was quite enjoyable even though I wish we were more active in the cooking – Eric passed us vegetables/food and told us to chop this and that, as opposed to giving us a recipe which we then had to work through. I do appreciate he has to work with a large range of ability and kitchen experience, so I guess this is what he has found works. Also interesting to note that practically everything we ate was boiled as opposed to fried. Hmmmm… French food is healthier than I thought.

Finally, it was time to eat. The white asparagus was beautiful…. it was soft and melted in the mouth. I really loved its delicate flavour. It was accompanied by a green salad of mache or lamb lettuce, with chopped tomatoes and orange segments and a dressing of honey, balsamic vinegar, and olive oil. Incidentally, I must say that I know now the amount of waste that must be generated in the French restaurants. A good quarter to one-third of the asparagus is not eaten because it is too fibrous; this is gauged by bending the asparagus and seeing where it breaks. The Canadian lady asked Eric whether he composts; he confessed he did not as he would have to travel to the suburbs to do this and he only had a little motor car...

The fish was alright, and I now definitely know what is meant by French food being all about the sauce. But the mussels were beautiful – tasted so fresh and cooked just right so that they were soft, succulent and juicy. They were accompanied by a mash of the celeriac and potato, and by little pearled vegetables. Incidentally, pearling the veggies also results in a lot of waste being generated, especially when done by unskilled hands who scoop out the little spheres at quite some distance from each other. I of course tried to maximise the number of pearls I got out of each courgette or turnip or carrot.

The chocolate cake was fun! It was also so simple to make, that I am really encouraged to do this at home. Essentially the cake doesn’t cook all the way through – so the molten centre is really the original cake mix (egg, sugar, chocolate, butter and flour). Eric also told us the secret of really sweet strawberries – forget about what the outside looks like – what is important is whether the core of the strawberry is pink – that’s the sign of a sweet strawberry. The inner cores of the strawberries we get in Singapore are all white, so that’s the reason why they just are not so sweet.


Ah yes, a really satisfying and filling meal indeed. After all that, it was difficult to put down the other things we did that day. In fact they are just jottings, so I will end this post here. (And the photolink is here).



P.S. The website for Cook'n with Class (note! there's a large section with recipes): http://www.cooknwithclass.com/index.html. And Eric is a warm and friendly chap, who makes everyone feel comfortable (aside from explaining things very well).