Saw an interesting sign at the Science Park in Paris’s 19e the other day (see thumbnail accompanying this update). It’s basically a Lost And Found office but it was the literal translations that struck me. In French it’s ‘Objets Trouves’ – Objects Found; in Spanish it’s ‘Objetos Perdidos’ – Objects Lost.
Hmmm. Does this mean that the French are basically optimists; the Spanish are pessimists; and English speakers – Lost AND Found? - are realists, or just couldn’t care less? Discuss.
Anyway, we were out at the Science Park because it was on the list of places we wanted to see while in Paris and, somehow, five-and-a-half months have crept up on us to the point where there are only 12 days left before we leave – and three of those will be spent in Spain having dinner at El Bulli restaurant. (Oh, yes indeedy.)
Well, if there was an area ever in need of a drastic makeover that was it. Down at heel, grey, scruffy, under-used and about as inspiring as a visit to the dentist. The actual Science Museum and its Geodome and the like are said to be pretty schmick stuff –at least according to our guidebook – but we’re both a little too long in the tooth for ‘exciting’ hands-on science park exhibits. Well I am.
Instead we wandered around the Parc de la Villette outside and were inspired to, er, go home. It’s a nice enough place for kids, with its playgrounds and the like but we found it all a bit depressing.
That said, I read that the Grand Hall, a former livestock hall turned cultural centre and performance space, and the Zenith concert hall are “hotspots” for shows and the like. Perhaps it does transform at night but during the day it’s pants.
Still, we walked back along the canal, which was the highlight of the day, and we got to cross it off The List.
Along the way, near Stalingrad Metro, we came across a fascinating little set-up whereby a cinema chain has plotted up on both sides of the Bassin de la Villette. If you pay to see a film that’s playing on the other side of the water your ticket gives you a free ride across the water on a little ferryboat. No ticket? It’s 50c.
Since then we have experienced Bastille Day in Paris, which starts on the evening of July 13 and continues into the next day. Allons enfants de la patrie and all that ... man the barricades, mes amis.
Well, we manned our local restaurant, the Cafe Le Louis Philippe, with Fiona, visiting from Australia, and somehow managed to miss it all. By the time we got to Place de la Bastille (an odd area that is a confluence of the 3e, 4e, 11e and 12e) it was at midnight and the celebrations were more or less all over – and it took us almost an hour to get Fiona a cab back to her hotel near the Arc de Triomphe.
The next day there was the usual military parade along the Champs Elysees at 10am – a parade that woke us up in the Marais as various jets roared almost directly overhead. But while military parades aren’t our sort of thing we did decide to give the evening fireworks a go.
After crepes in the Creperie des Pecheurs in St Germain – no, we couldn’t possibly eat a sweet crepe for dessert oops where did that go – we took the Metro to Invalides and found a position on the bridge there across the Seine.
We waited about an hour and 15 minutes for the fireworks to start – just about the right time, it must be said because the streets began to fill up quickly after that - but they were, to be perfectly honest, a bit of a letdown.
For quite a few long periods there was no sense that the Eiffel Tower was even there, so bad was the lighting. We could as easily have been watching a fireworks display in Notting Hill or Blacktown or Bondi – there was a resounding lack of context. And context is all as far as fireworks are concerned.
A quick mention here, though, about the Metro that night. The streets around the Champs Elysees were thronged with people – and they all seemed to decide they wanted to go home at the same time.
But while it was packed, the Metro was quick and efficient. We were back in the Marais within half an hour. Gotta love that.
