Marais Today

Any day that starts with an extra hour of sleep is bound to be a good day (unless you are late to work). It is also worthy of note that tartine in true French style is far better than anything in the United States, and perhaps better than a good English toast, because the baguette is truly unbeatable.

Of course, after showering AND getting ready AND eating my beautiful, bountiful breakfast, I only had fifteen minutes to get to ISEP! Again, the advantages of living in walking distance were apparent. While trying to speed up the métro is an exercise in extreme futility, if not a descent into insanity (or the cause thereof), speeding up one's steps is perfectly manageable, even in Paris, and (somehow!) I made it on time. The extra piece of toast was clearly worth it.

We had quite a treat in the cours intensive de Français, niveau avancé 2 this morning: field trip to the Marais! This is one of the oldest neighborhoods in Paris, building-wise, since it deftly evaded the massive, city-wide renovation of the last 1800s, and it has quite a history. The name means "the swamp" (a descriptive rather than offensive term, as it was constructed on swampland), and it has been home to the wealthiest aristocrats, the poorest tenement-dwellers, and every minority that everyone has hated at some time (it hosts a thriving and historic Jewish neighborhood, a vibrant and modern gay neighborhood, and, more recently, a little-known but authentic Parisian Chinese neighborhood).

The Place des Vosges was an incredible innovation of Henri IV's, an attempt to grow the economy with silk and provide community for his residents did not go quite as planned, seeing as his intended economic center was so beautiful that the aristocrats flocked to it like american students to an éclair, and silk-workers could not afford the increasing real estate prices. Luckily for our visit, Victor Hugo could, and we visited his beautiful apartment, converted into a (free!) museum.

Sadly, I was unable to rotate this, but it's worth turning your head for. It is an author with identity issues, what else is new?

The Place des Vosges is, at last, a thriving economic center: the ground floor is lined with expensive galleries that remind me of my dire need to become a multimillionaire. Then we continued onto the Jewish quarter, a place filled today with armed guards and swarms of reporters. There were TV cameras everywhere, microphones practically bouncing off the walls of the narrow street. As our professor explained the history of the area, reporters sidled over to take notes and gain their "context". On our way to the next stop on our tour, we took a break so the professor could be interviewed...

How often do you get to watch your professor be accosted by reporters?

This journals was particularly audacious. That notebook he is holding is now chock-full of notes from our class.

Just in case you didn't get a full enough view of the craziness of it, here's an interview close-up!

However, the best part was clearly lunch. No, I did not go to Chez Marianne (a fabulous and inexpensive restaurant that we passed right by), because the five of is in the class went to L'As du Falafel, purportedly the best falafel in Paris. I have insufficient expertise (for now!) to verify or negate this claim, but I assure you, the falafel was excellent! We also passed by the purportedly superior éclair shop, so naturally we had to return and sample them. While I did not invest my €5 or €5,50 in one of these pastries, I had the good fortune of tasting other peoples' and they were, indeed, fantastic.

Of course, the afternoon was a bit of an anti-climax after such a fantastic morning, although we heard all about the cultural adventures we are to have, which is rather exciting. Once liberated, five of us went off in search of a specific gym that is cheaper than all the others (see my determination? I went all that way for the sailing workouts!), but there was no discount on the €50 registration fee, so most of us declined.

After making it all the way back to the Stanford Center and having a Skype interview (after many nervous minutes of fumbling with adaptors and other electronic nonsense), I had several free hours out of sequence with everyone else, so I set off for the Jeu de Paume (a museum) that is, surprisingly, a) open Tuesdays, and b) open until 21h (9pm) on Tuesdays. I even took the métro to Place de la Concorde, but failed to locate the museum, in part because I wasn't paying attention and in part because I had never actually looked at a map to figure out where it was, so I took an extended walk instead.

Paris at night is quite something. The streaks are clouds, not weird paint.

The Eiffel Tower glitters at certain times each night, and I have never once succeeded in capturing this spectacle on film (nor in digital 1s and 0s).

If you turn sideways, you can see across Pont Alexandre III and the Seine. It's a beautiful bridge, and a beautiful river, and deserves to be right-side-up, but this is more than I can give it right now, unfortunately.

As you can see, although I came out of the métro 50 meters from the museum, I turned exactly the wrong way (how was I to know? I never consulted a map!), and ended up by the Grand Palais, which was closed, the Petit Palais, which was closed, and, after crossing the Pont Alexandre III to the Left Bank, I came upon the Musée D'Orsay which was, of course, closed (at 7pm, most museums are!). I started walking back, until I realized I needed notebooks, and Gibert Jeune, a bookstore and paper store, probably sold them for a good price (it's right by the Sorbonne). I walked all the way back there (2.5 more km, or a mile and a half), only to find that it closed at 7.30pm, not 9.30. I arrived at 8. This is good. I did not spend any money, AND I had an adventure, a long walk, and sore feet.

An Alsacien dinner, pâté, cornichons, lentilles au saucisse, fromage, crème caramel, and, of course, baguette, was a perfect end to the day. Of course, homework exists, too. Bonne unit!