Last Day in Paris

Today was Eli's last full day in Paris on this trip. After a morning visiting parks in Les Batignolles with Sam while I got some work done, Eli had lunch and his nap. Sam and I then took him to the Jardin du Luxembourg, the largest park within the limits of Paris. Note that the much larger Bois de Boulogne and Bois de Vincennes, while owned by Paris, are actually located outside it. The Jardin du Luxembourg, on the other hand, is within Paris but actually under the direct control of the Sénat, the upper house of the French legislature, which meets in the Palais du Luxembourg at the north end of the Jardin. We also got to walk around the Latin Quarter. This area is called the Latin Quarter because it used to be filled with Latin-speaking students from the schools and universities. It's now filled with English-speaking tourists and students. That's not quite fair; on pretty days like today, everyone who can comes to the Jardin du Luxembourg to lie out in the sun for an hour or two.

I spent a lot of time in this part of Paris during summer 1996, when I was taking classes at the Sorbonne, and then during the 2001-2002 academic year, when I was at the École Normale Supérieure. Normale Sup' is right nearby, too. A lot of days I would eat lunch in the Jardin. It was fun sharing this part of Paris with Eli and Sam.

The Jardin is pretty big and includes many areas. Particularly interesting today were the central basin with its toy sailboats, and the jardin des enfants, which was very crowded. We were getting ready to leave when Ally called. She was finished at the BN and wanted to join us. So she came over and we walked around a little more.

Ally wanted to get Eli some new toys for the flight home. We ended up walking from the Jardin du Luxembourg up Boulevard St. Michel to the Île de la Cité and then to Les Halles. That involves crossing the Seine. We found a couple nice things in a small toystore in the underground mall. We hope they will keep Eli entertained. We came home by métro, which was actually quite an ordeal. I got to practice my French. We gave Eli his last bath in France, then made our favorite pasta sauce and started packing. I managed to find the Irish Coffee Mamie Nova puddings we'd been wanting, and they were very good.

Tomorrow we will finish packing and cleaning, then go to Roissy by taxi. Sam has a direct flight to Atlanta, while we are flying to Birmingham via Dallas. Sam leaves later but arrives earlier. He's renting a car in Atlanta, which he'll use to pick us up and drive everyone to Tuscaloosa. He'll be staying with us in Alabama for a few days. Yes, Sam does have lots of vacation!

Shopping

Yesterday was not that eventful. Sam and I took Eli on a long walk in the afternoon. We learned that the neighborhood west of us is very posh. We happened upon some of the businesses you only find in big cities; for example, a bookstore that sold only aviation books. We went to a big Monoprix and got what we needed to make spaghetti with leeks and marscapone. I added sundried tomatoes, which worked surprisingly well.


One of my goals in coming to France was to remedy my sad business attire situation. I will be wearing suits a lot, after all. So today, after playing with Sam for a few hours, Eli came with Sam and me to meet Ally and shop at the big department stores on boulevard Haussmann near the Opéra. We went to Galeries Lafayette and Printemps. These are both housed in buildings that date to the nineteenth century and are among the world's first big department stores. If you've been to the Marshall Fields (now Macy's) in downtown Chicago, you know the type of place. Both stores had all sorts of wonderful things. I fell in love with a suit at Printemps, so that's what I got. It was kind of a splurge, so I'll be wearing it a lot.

We came back home by métro. We had hoped to get some of the brightly-colored eclairs we'd seen at a bakery a couple blocks from our apartment, but they were all sold. Sam made chicken soup with rice, using the leftovers of the poulet rôti we had for Sunday. I forgot to tell that story earlier! By the time we went shopping Sunday evening, many businesses had closed, including the boucheries with rotisseries where you get your roast chickens. Ally and I found a hallal butcher just off boulevard de Clichy who was open. We bought a chicken and a barquette of potatoes for about half what we expected to pay. For some reason the butcher told us we were "nice" (gentils). A bargain and a compliment? What was the catch? Well, the chicken was excellent and meaty, and the potatoes were pleasantly waxy, so I don't know. I guess there wasn't one.

Winding down

As we come into our last few days in France, I thought I would update you all on my work this trip. Since arriving in Paris last weekend, I've been busy scurrying all over the city (like one of the rats who actually live in the sewers and fictionally - we hope - in Paris's top animated kitchens) trying to get as much done as possible. I've bounced from the archives of the army (housed in the Vincennes Castle on the far east side of town) to the national library (south of the Seine), to the national archives (back in the Marais (!) in the center of the city). This week, I'll have to return to the national archives, the national library, and - unexpectedly - back to Vincennes, this time for the archives of the navy. Luckily, as I comb through the registers and inventories of the archives I find very few things that are new. Unfortunately, I keep finding new books and new angles to explore, and there is no more time. After this trip, I'm done with the research and it will just have to be good enough. Anything I can't get through interlibrary loan I'll have to do without. (Though if there is anything major that I need, I can always hire someone on site to photograph the relevant file - vive la téchnologie!)

Beyond the research, things have been going well. Eli has been a real champ throughout all the moves and the new experiences. We could not be prouder of our little man. He has welcomed each of our guests with smiles, love, and slobbery kisses. I am so glad he's had all this time getting to know his family better. He loves his grandparents, aunt, and uncle so much.

We've gotten time as a family to do some pretty incredible things. From our drive through the Luberon, to time strolling through my favorite city in Europe (Lyon), to a variety of merry-go-rounds old and new, we have all seen and done things that Abe and I will never forget. In the meantime, Eli has added new words, new sounds, new sights, and new tastes to his repertoire. He's discovered what fruit should taste like. He knows there is always good dance beats on French radio at 6:00 a.m. (Thanks NRJ). His walking has improved enormously (thanks to long walks in Aix with Nano, Gramma J and Marty, and what seemed like endless trips up and down the hills of our neighborhood parks in Paris with Granddad Sam). And, most of all, he's encountered almost every size and shape of train known to man and he loves them all. Guh GUH!

Abe and I have really enjoyed the trip, our visits, and our quality family time. We feel now like experts in Eli's language (Binglish) and we're going to head home a stronger family. I'll dive into writing (after setting up our new summer sitter schedule) and Abe will plunge into the summer of law in Birmingham. We might not see him much for 6 weeks, but we're sure glad we had him for this past six weeks. Eli, as ever, will delight and amaze at every turn.

A demain!

Fête des Pères

Today is Father's Day in France, as it is in many other countries. Notice that Ally got two Mother's Days whereas I only got one Father's Day. This is one of the minor indignities a man suffers as "the Second Parent." As you can tell, it didn't really bother me. Also, I was happy to share Father's Day with my father-in-law, Sam.

We started the day's fun by meeting Jen at the Parc Zoologique de Paris in the Bois de Vincennes. The Bois de Vincennes is the Bois de Boulogne's companion park almost exactly opposite it immediately outside Paris. Getting over there took longer than we'd wanted, but we made it in time to be among the zoo's first guests. It's a pretty unexceptional zoo as it now stands. There's a huge hollow artificial rock formation in the zoo, which I guess is interesting. It's kind of falling apart, though. Major renovations are going on, so some of the most popular animals--big cats, elephants, and seals--can't currently be seen. Eli did get to visit giraffes, hippos, and zebras, which are probably his favorites outside elephants. He also seemed to enjoy the monkeys.

To me, the great interest of the Vincennes Zoo is its origin with the 1931 Paris Colonial Expositioin. This was a six-month display of France's colonial empire, which at that time was about as big and important as it ever got. For the exposition, large displays and pavilions were built showcasing many of the regions under French control. Groups of subject peoples were brought to Paris to be displayed in a sort of human zoo. Millions came from France and elsewhere--chiefly other European countries that lacked colonies of their own and sent settlers to the French empire--to see the exhibition. The zoo was built to house the strange animals that came from overseas and became a permanent edifice.

So, too, did a museum initially built to house art and craft objects created by France's subjects. It gradually evolved from a museum about the French colonial empire to one about the art of Africans and Pacific Islanders. In the last few years, these items were removed and the museum was reinvented as the Cité Nationale de l'Histoire et de l'Immigration (National Complex on History and Immigration). This seems to be shaping up as a museum on those who have come to France in recent times. France has received a lot of immigrants in the last century or so, chiefly from elsewhere in Europe and more recently from its former imperial possessions. France's issues with immigrants and "foreigners" are far too complicated to deal with here. This museum, though, is excellent. It's currently showing a temporary exhibition called " 1931: Les étrangers au temps de l'exposition coloniale" (1931: Foreigners at the time of the Colonial Exposition) dealing with some very interesting issues. In 1931, France controlled wide ranges of the earth's surface; in what sense were inhabitants of those places French or not French? Furthermore, while there was an exposition showcasing the strange people living under French control, there were also a lot of non-French people living in France. So what was Frenchness, to, say, an Armenian refugee making a new life in Paris; a Hmong brought to the Colonial Exposition as a living display; an Italian settler in the French protectorate of Tunisia; or a Polish miner of communist persuasion working and agitating in the Auvergne? It was just brilliant. Jen and Ally, both historians of the French colonies (albeit specializing in an earlier period) loved it.

Jardin d'Acclimatation

Today we took Eli to the Jardin d'Acclimatation in the Bois de Boulogne. The Bois de Boulogne is a 2,000-acre park just west of Paris. That's over twice as big as New York City's Central Park, but I guess the comparison isn't quite fair since the Bois de Boulogne is outside the city. To get there, we took the RER commuter train across Paris and then a short walk. Part of our walk was on the boulevard de Neuilly, which is on the axis from the Louvre and Tuileries along Champs-Élysées to the Arc de Triomphe to La Grande Arche de la Défense. Neuilly-sur-Seine, by the way, is a really nice suburb of Paris; it's one of the exceptions to the general rule that these are hellholes.

Anyway, the Jardin d'Acclimatation is part of the Bois de Boulogne. It used to be a special area for displaying exotic animals and, briefly, "primitive" foreign cultures. The latter use is attested somewhat by the continuing presence of the Musée Nationale des Arts et Traditions Populaires (National Museum of Folk Art and Tradition), which we visited years ago and recommend. Nowadays, the Jar d'Acc is an amusement park. You pay a flat amount for entry and then you pay more to go on rides. It's directed at children and their parents; teenagers would be pretty bored here and were not much in evidence. It was shockingly understaffed by American standards; there were no officious, liveried individuals overseeing the playgrounds and only about half the rides on the midway were manned at any time.

Eli particularly liked the river ride, which consisted of a boat going through a narrow canal. We rode twice. It was very relaxing. He also went on some carousels and played in a playground. There were actually two playgrounds, one for children about eight or older and one for smaller kids. Eli had a lot of fun at the little-kids' playground. He also went in a playhouse, where he enjoyed interacting with the French kids. We ate lunch in the Jardin at one of the handful of cafés. They all served pretty much the same food. Eli got lots of French fries off our plates.


In case you are worried that Ally and I didn't get to have any fun of our own, don't: we rode some carnival rides ourselves, ones that Eli was just too small to venture aboard.

After a short shopping errand in Neuilly to get flavors of Mamie Nova pudding unavailable in Les Batignolles, we ventured into the touristy heart of Paris. Our ostensible goal was to get ice cream cones at Berthillon, the foremost glacier in Paris. Although Berthillon ice cream is sold all over town, the original store is on the Île Saint-Louis. We stood in line and got our cones (Ally: red peach; Sam: blueberry; Abe: rhubarb and wild strawberry, which costs more than the other flavors--Mary will remember this I think). Eli continued his inexplicable refusal to try ice cream. We just don't know where we've gone wrong with him.

The only places more touristy than Île Saint-Louis are on the Île de la Cité and nearby, so of course there we went. We sat in the park behind Notre Dame so the slow eaters could finish their cones and we could give Eli something he would eat (an apricot). We then got out of there, having heard way too much English and seen way too many cameras, and made our way home.

Ally made us chicken saltimbocca accompanied by sugar snap peas (from Kenya, of all places) and a Lebanese-inspired lentil-rice mixture she developed herself. As usual, excellent. Ally and I were excited to dig into the chocolate-orange zest Mamie Novas we'd brought back from Neuilly, but we were still haunted by the Irish Cream container we'd seen in a trashcan. Where is that flavor sold?

Le Bourget

I didn't post yesterday because I was busy and out late. Eli had a fun day of parks and playing in the apartment. Our friend Jen, who is in Paris for reasons similar to Ally, invited Ally and me to dinner. Eli and Sam had a nice evening at home while we caught up with Jen. We were all in Paris together during the 2001-2002 school year.

Today's big events were a visit to the French Air and Space Museum and tartiflette for dinner. The former, known as the Musée de l'Air et de l'Éspace (MAE), is located at Le Bourget airport slightly north of Paris. It's one of the few museums in the Paris area that interests me but that I'd never visited, and Sam wanted to see it, too. The museum chronicles the history of aviation in France. France has a good claim to be the second home of aviation, after of course the United States. The French invented lighter-than-air flight and nearly hosted the first heaver-than-air flight. They've also shown good taste in acquiring military aircraft abroad, as well as producing a successful line of jet fighters. MAE is free to tour, but for €5 you can board a Boeing 747 and two Concordes. We judged that worth doing: when else are you going to get to go aboard either of those models today?

It was suprisingly hard to get to Le Bourget from Les Batignolles. We had to take two bus rides each of a half hour or so: one to get across town to Gare de l'Est, and another to get from Gare de l'Est out to Le Bourget. (Experienced Paris visitors may recall a stop on RER line B called "Le Bourget," passed on the way to or from Roissy airport. Why didn't we use it? Well, it is nowhere near Le Bourget airport.) On the way back, the driver of the bus back to Paris surprised his passengers by announcing that the bus would terminate at the first stop in Paris (Porte de la Chapelle) instead of at Gare de l'Est, where most everyone was expecting to go. We switched to metro and made a two-line journey. Eli was very good the whole time.

For dinner Ally and I made tartiflette, which as I've already explained is the best food ever. That makes it all the more difficult to report that Eli didn't want any. Well, more for us!

Bercy

Here in Paris, Ally is working at the Service Historique de l'Armée de la Terre (Army Historical Service), Bibliothèque Nationale (National Library), and Archive Nationale (National Archive). Maybe she will write about that sometime. Today she was at the BN.

Sam and I took Eli to meet Ally after work. We rode the métro to Cour Saint-Émilion so we could go to Bercy Village and nearby parks. The Saint-Émilion used to be the center of the Paris wine trade. Wine would come to Paris by river and be unloaded there, so there was a big warehouse complex. Nowadays, of course, wine is not shipped that way. The warehouse area has been converted to parks and a sort of outdoor mall on the Towne Centre Shoppes model. There's a great movie theater, too, as well as a big sports-concert arena (the Palais Omnisport) and the Ministry of Finance (which French newspapers refer to as "Bercy" the way ours call the Department of Defense "the Pentagon"). It's all right across the Seine from the BN's new location in Tolbiac. Like the airport north of Paris, the BN is officially named for a French president--François Mitterand--but everyone calls it by the old place name. So it was easy for Ally to come find us.

Eli enjoyed the parks. He even got to ride a carousel, which was old and made of wood the way I guess they used to be. Eli had to have a ticket, but Ally rode free as his adult accompanier. (I was just wondering what the word for "one who accompanies" would be, and Blogger's spellcheck waved accompanier on through. Astonishing.)

Last night's dinner ended up being ravioli and salad. Tonight I made a bolognaise sauce. I really need to break out of this Italian rut! Sam got bread for us tonight and was lucky to get baguettes fresh out of the oven. They were still warm we he got them home. Some of you may be aware of the alarming level of butter consumption during this trip. Apparently the butter here in France is better than at home, so people who don't normally use it back in America have begun spreading it on everything they eat. You know who you are. I still can't tell the difference between French grocery store butter and Land O'Lakes, but the bread was even better with butter on it.

Summer in Paris

Although since the nineteenth century it has been said that good Americans go to Paris when they die, I don't think this can refer to Paris in the summer, unless the heat and crowd is the best Americans can possibly deserve.

Yesterday I got some work done. Sam took Eli to a couple nearby parks, which he enjoyed. We did a lot of grocery shopping, too. I went to two supermarkets and Picard, the frozen food store. For lunch I made sauce with lardons and for dinner couscous with chicken and vegetables. Then we watched some soccer. The Euro Cup is going on right now. We saw the very end of France and Romania's tie game, then watched the Dutch crush Italy. I love watching Italy lose. Italy must be the most shameful national team in Europe. Italy belongs in South America.

Today there was supposed to be a strike affecting transportation and possibly the archives in which Ally does her research. The former did, indeed, occur, but the archives were not perceptibly affected. Eli, Sam, and I stayed in our neighborhood.

Eli's been getting up at six. That's okay as long as he doesn't move it any earlier. He's been napping about two hours a day.

I made us sandwiches for lunch. I'm going to figure dinner out now.

Hopelessly Blogged

Abe left out one very important thing from our Lyon visit. On the night we visited L'Ouest, Abe and I had our first encounter with the Dyson Airblade. That's right, the genius behind those expensive vacuum cleaners that their owners swear by is now producing the "perfect" hand dryer. The restrooms of the restaurant had them installed and they are awesome. We considered returning the next day and demanding to be allowed to wash our hands. How sad I shall be the next time I encounter a regular old hand dryer or... gulp... a paper towel dispenser.

Who would wear this shoe?

This is an actual poster at the bus stop across from the apartment where we stayed in Lyon. Ally pointed it out to me the day it went up. Since then, I've seen a number of examples.

Lacoste is a French sportswear brand that wants to you to forget its long association with the Izod line and instead see it as an elite luxury mark associated with the glorious tradition of tennis and people who can afford to be really good at it.

Notice the shoes being worn by the man on the left. (If you click the picture, it gets bigger. Also check out this version at Lacoste's website.)

Huh? What man is going to wear those shoes? A woman, sure. And I can also easily imagine a woman wearing the flats in the middle, and a man or woman wearing the shoes the fellow on the right has on. But, seriously, are any men going to wear this shoe? (Am I missing something? Is that actually a woman? Have they deliberately put a woman's feet on a man's body?)

To Paris

We moved out of our place in Lyon today. Stéphanie was wonderfully helpful as usual and we again had good luck with out taxi driver. The train from Lyon to Paris was very full--chargé, as is said in French, a handy adjective because it is the proper one for saying "the train is full" and "we have lots of baggage." This train was even more express than the usual TGV because it went from Lyon to Paris with no stops at all in between.

We arrived in Paris--persons at all familiar with the city or the French rail station will instantly know at which station--and took at taxi to our apartment. It is in the neighborhood known as Batignolles (17e arr., métro: Brochant). It's close to the Porte de Clichy in the northwest part of Paris. There's a pretty big park at one end of our street. We expect Eli will be spending a lot of time there; he already went today, which I will discuss later.

We took a taxi from the station to our apartment, but we couldn't move in right away as the previous tenant was still leaving. (This was our fault. The landlady, Nadège, was very helpful, though.) We went over to the Gare du Nord to meet Sam, who was coming in from the airport north of town via commuter train (RER). Please note that French people do not refer to this airport as Charles de Gaulle; it is called Roissy after the village in whose boundary it sits. (I've actually been to this village; there's nothing there.) You will sound like less of an interloper if you will adopt this terminology. Anyway, we managed to meet Sam on the platform and had lunch is a rather touristy, but good, café-brasserie facing the Gare du Nord. That's our old neighborhood, by the way, and we hope to return.

We came back out to Batignolles by bus, which took us through Montmartre and right past the Moulin Rouge. That's somewhere we don't hope to return. Eli and Sam napped while Ally and I explored the neighborhood and picked up some essentials. We found a street of Cameroonian restaurants. Does such a thing exist anywhere else outside Cameroon? We may have to try it. We also saw a poster for Michael Flatley's Lord of the Dance, which is here for a week in November. Can anyone possibly still need to see this?

The sleepers awakened and we went to check out the park. The weather had improved; Ally remarked on how unaccustomed to the sun we had grown over the past couple weeks. Eli engaged in two of his favorite pastimes, exploring grade and texture of ground, before switching over to his absolute delight, closing doors. He figured out how to close the gate to the park, which was pretty impressive. It seems his plan was to install himself as a sort of park troll and extort fees from those desiring entry, but we adults frustrated his plan to introduce an evil custom. Poor little guy--he has no fun. It is just not fair. Other children were playing games with balls, which as usual are prohibited by regulation at public parks. They did not care, for they had not been able to play outside for weeks. There were lots of families and children there.

Our apartment is charming. Like the place in Aix, it appears to have been furnished entirely through visits to IKEA. The building has a central courtyard, so our apartment has both front and back windows. There a staircase and an elevator of recent installation running up its shaft. This is a pretty common configuration, but I've never seen it in a place like this, where the dimensions of the staircase require the elevator to be about two feet wide. It's just narrower than the unfolded stroller. We're on the 4e étage--5th floor to Americans--so the elevator is a necessity.

For dinner we got Chinese takeout. I am always trying to get people who visit France to have Chinese food. Some other time I will provide a detailed explanation why. Anyway, it was good, particularly the boules de coco.

Rain, rain go away

Today we said goodbye to Vic and Candie. They went off to Geneva in search of better weather and new passport stamps. I don't think they've gotten used to the end of passport controls within the European Union. I spoke to my dad after their return to Lyon--they go to Paris tomorrow morning to catch their flight home--and he said they had a good time. They saw lots of soccer fans in Geneva; the European championships began tonight and the game between Portugal and Turkey was played in Geneva. Perhaps we will get a fuller report later.

After seeing his grandparents off, Eli went with Ally and me to the market in the rain. We looked at many things but bought few. For lunch we bought peas still in their shells and potatoes from a rotisserie place. These are boiled potatoes dressed with parsley, onion, and bacon and placed under the chickens as they roast so that they soak up the juices that run off the chickens. They are even better than they sound. We had these items for lunch later. We also bought madeleines, a tartette, and a pastry called bras de Venus (arm of Venus). I got an empanada from a guy who claimed to be Mexican. It was surprisingly flavorful for food sold in France. He also listed chili con carne on his placard. I wonder how much of that he has ever served; it's something most French people would hate. Too spicy. We also took some pictures in front of the Fresque des Lyonnais, a mural showing famous figures from Lyon's past and present. For instance, behind me in the chef's toque is Paul Bocuse. Appearing to come down the steps is the late Abbé Pierre.

We went home and had the potatoes and peas for lunch, then let Eli nap. Then we all went back downtown, taking advantage of our transit daypasses and a stop in the rain. While waiting for the bus, we saw a lot of people kayaking and rowing in the Saône. Lyon, and specifically this part of the Saône, is one of the centers of French competitive rowing, aviron. Keep in mind that, historically, propelling boats through the water with muscle-power was the work of slaves or, in classical Athens, the lowest class of citizen. Why people in France and America would choose to do this escapes me. At least the French rowers were out during daylight and not at the crack of dawn, when American college crew teams do their work.

We had vague plans to go to Part Dieu or something, but then Ally's former colleague Zoë called and we decided to meet at Terreaux, by the Hôtel de Ville, and have drinks. It was great getting to know her a little. It was just such an odd coincidence running into her as we did a week ago.

It seemed like everyone in Lyon was out during the afternoon, probably owing to it being Saturday and, by recent standards, fair weather. Although it was kind of chilly, there was no rain falling. There were a number of parties including one oddly-dressed young man. We learned these were bachelor parties. Apparently in an early stage of the French bachelor party, the groom is made to dress in a costume and embarrass himself in public. One assumes things go downhill from there.

Anyway, Eli, Ally, and I made our way over to the Parc de la Tête d'Or. We wanted to say goodbye to the place. People were bicycling, playing games with balls and frisbees, and generally enjoying their weekends. We took Eli to the elephant habitat and he started making his "ela-ela" sound. But the elephants were all put away for the evening. We decided to get back home and had good luck with buses, which are pretty infrequent on weekday evenings.

We came back home, put Eli to bed, then packed and cleaned. Tomorrow we move out, take the train to Paris, and meet up with Sam, Ally's father.

Museum

As I related earlier, Eli went up to Neuville with Vic and Candie. They were fortunate enough to visit during this suburb's weekly market. Eli came back for a nap, during which Ally came home. She finished her research in Lyon.

When Eli woke up, we went back into town to visit the Centre d'Histoire de la Résistance et la Déportation. This is the museum devoted to France's homefront experience during WWII: occupation, collaboration, resistance, and the forcible removal of many persons from France, especially Jews. The museum is in the former military medical school, which was used during the occupation as Gestapo headquarters. Thus the museum occupies the very buildings where some of the most horrific acts it documents actually took place.

Ally and I had both been there before, but it was Vic, Candie, and Eli's first visit. Eli was interested in squawking and walking up and down stairs. He has clearly inherited his parents' antifascism.

For dinner Ally made quenelles, which are fish dumplings. Actually we bought them from a butcher-delicatessen, which is what you normally do; you don't make quenelles at home any more than you make sausage.

Aquarium

Yesterday Eli went to a La Croix Rousse and the Aquarium. Vic and Candie took him. Eli doesn't seem to have names for them yet. We're assuming my dad will get some version of Pop, which is what Mary and I call him, and Candie will get something like Grammy, but maybe Eli will invent something.

La Croix Rousse is the historic center of Lyon's silk industry, which was very important during the nineteenth century. Eli, Vic, and Candie went there for the morning. They looked at some shops and found a playground that included a playset in the form of a train. Eli enjoyed playing on it. He sure loves his guh-guhs!



Since the little guy was still going strong, they went down to the Aquarium, which is on the west bank of the Rhône just about at the confluence. Eli hasn't been to an aquarium before. He liked pointing at the aquatic creatures, particularly a very active octopus. Eli saw an octopus at the National Zoo when he was about six months old. It doesn't seem to be widely known, but octopuses are very smart, much smarter than small mammals such as six-month-old humans. (It's also not widely known that "octopi" is a thorougly incorrect plural that functions chiefly to advertises its users' ignorance of classical languages. If in doubt, follow the normal rules of English inflection.) Eli is probably now about as smart as an octopus, although their intelligence is not like ours at all. Octopuses are not social at all, but they are good at solving problems such as mazes. Eli is very social. We haven't put him in any mazes yet.

This added up to a pretty long day, so Eli seemed pretty happy to go to bed. Ally and I were certainly happy he went to bed. We had reservations at L'Ouest, another Bocuse brasserie like Le Sud (where we did not eat) and Le Nord (where Ally at with her family before they left Lyon). Yes, there's also L'Est. The brasseries are pretty similar, but each has some menu theming based on cuisines found in the direction named. L'Ouest takes its inspiration from places in the Western Hemisphere where there has been a cultural exchange with France, particularly the West Indies. There was also a beer from Québec. But most of the menu is shared with the other bistros. Ally and I chose the menu and dined in three courses for € 22.80; that didn't include drinks but did include some excellent selections. Ally had a wonderful dorado and I had roast veal that reminded me of Piccadilly cafeteria's roast beef if it were done perfectly. I mention the price because it's very easy to spend slightly less--or much more--for a profoundly less satisfying meal. The service was impeccable. The atmosphere was fairly vacationy; it was easy to imagine we were on some green island and the rain outside was warm and tropical rather than cold and dreary. My only objection is to the big monitors in the restaurant showing cooking shows; I'd like to forget that Bocuse is a celebrity chef while I'm dining in his establishment, but maybe I am in the minority there. But even great French chefs can lose their way and become Bobby Flay. I'm just saying. Anyway, it was excellent and you should go.

So far today, Eli has been up to the market in Neuville, a small city north of Lyon on the Saône.

Eli tours Lyon

Eli decided to wake up early today. Ally and I wanted to nip this in the bud, so we arranged a quiet day with plenty of naptime.

For the morning, Vic and Candie took him to a playground on Île Barbe. I don't think I've mentioned that place before. It's a little island in the Saône a little north of our apartment. The name means "Wild Island," from Lat. insula barbara. I feel like there should be pirates, but so far there is no trace of any. Instead, there's a monastery and a bunch of fancy inns and restaurants. Vic and Candie have decided there is some sort of secret intelligence facility on the island, though. I probably shouldn't have put that on the internet in case they are right.

They brought Eli home for lunch and a nap, which he seemed very happy to have. Then we all set off for the Presqu'île. My father and I went to the SNCF Boutique on Place Bellecour, where we did not quite have all our customer service needs attended to. Eli and Candie played in the Place while we transacted our business.

Then we walked south to meet Ally. She showed us around her old neighborhood, Ainay. We walked over the Saône to the touristy part of Vieux Lyon. There we looked at souvenir shops, bought more macarons, and had dinner. (Touristy neighborhood means more non-stop restaurants.) We chose a crêperie and ended up with a pretty good meal. Eli ate a little of our meals, particularly Ally's galette bolognaise. (Don't think about it too hard.) For dessert he had some crepe and an orange slice. He loves oranges. I gave him a lemon slice, which he did not like as much.

Even though we had dessert at the restaurant, I could not keep myself from stopping at Nardone, the good ice cream shop in Vieux, and getting a scoop of thyme. Ally was able to guess the flavor from tasting it. We were worried about having to wait for the bus, since there's about thirty minutes between buses at night, but it came just a few minutes after we arrived at the stop. All things considered, it was a very nice evening, and Eli made it perfect by going right to sleep at bedtime. We hope we've got his sleeping back on track.

Things I love about France, but hate about researching

It has been awhile, but I thought I would weigh in with some random thoughts while I'm here in one of my favorite cities in the world.

I had been meaning to submit a regular feature on the blog describing things I love about France. Since Abe has waxed so eloquently about the food, the list will be considerably shortened in the interests of avoiding redundancy. But one thing I love is night illuminations of the buildings. Lyon is especially good at it. Walking around this city at night is a real treat. The bridges are all lit differently, the buildings illuminated tastefully and often in different colors, and the stones just seem to glow. It brings out features in the architecture you don't notice during the day. Although we don't get to experience it this trip, Lyon's real claim to night illumination fame is on December 8 - the Fete de la Lumière. The festival of lights is a yearly tradition that dates back to the end of the nineteenth century. It seems that to celebrate the dedication of the Cathedral Fourvière and the completion of the statue of the Virgin Mary attached to the Cathedral, city officials had planned a festival for August 8. But the sculptor did not finish the statue on time. So they rescheduled for December 8. Then the weather that day was horrible and city officials again canceled the celebration. Late in the day, when the weather suddenly cleared, the people of Lyon were so excited that they began lighting candles, placing them in all windows, carrying them into the streets, and milling about. The Festival of Lights happened spontaneously, after all.

Each year, then, the city recreates that celebration. Candles are distributed to every apartment and business in the presqu'ile, to be lit and placed in windows that evening. The buildings are illuminated in a particularly interesting way - different every year. (One year, lights were cast in such a way that you could see the entire color spectrum and it caused all sculpture on the building to jump out in hyper-high relief. It was amazing.) People wander from landmark to landmark drinking vin chaud (mulled wine), eating waffles or crepes, and having a great time. If you ever travel to France in December, try your hardest to make the festival of lights!

Another thing I love is French sign art. They often find the perfect graphic depiction of what you should and should not do (turn off your cellphone in the train, allow your dog to relieve himself in this part of the park, etc.). Even illiterate and foreign viewers should have no problem understanding. Of course, despite the excellent depiction of where you should (and by inference should not) allow your dog to relieve himself, one thing I dislike about France is their stubborn refusal to curb their pets! Yuck.

As for my research, things are proceeding apace. Here in Lyon I am mostly looking for more information about the so-called Lyon Plot of 1851. I am also finding interesting information about revolutionary legislation to help refugees and deportees from the colonies in the late nineteenth century (particularly from formerly-French Canada - the Acadiens - and from Saint Domingue - modern Haiti). The municipal archives here in Lyon are quite a pleasant place to work. I have never been to them before, but am quite pleasantly surprised. The staff has been very helpful, too. Today one of the archivists decided I was paying too much for photocopies so he charged me only half the normal amount. Saved me about 20 dollars!

On my commute, I have had a lot of time to observe fashion here. Now I will wait until Paris to give my final vote, but early returns are not favorable. Most of what I see is supposed to look very worn. Men's jeans have seams all over them - up, down, across - and the stitching is in both white and yellow. Often half of the button-down fly is exposed. Very complicated construction, not very attractive. Boys and girls both wear clothing with incomprehensible English on them, like "Street star 3" or the image to the right. (What is this telling us happened in Alabama in 1969? Why did it only go 37 km?) Many men are wearing polo shirts with argyle and numbering on their chests, as if they belong to some bizarre sports team on which they are the number 3G. It really makes no sense. Let's hope the Parisians are doing better.

That is all for now... I'll have more to say later.

Back to the zoo

Today's weather was fair--no rain during the day. After everyone got going, Eli got to show his grandparents around the Parc de la Tête d'Or. He returned to the zoo and saw his friends the elephants. He had a picnic lunch and enjoyed couscous. Perhaps best of all, he rode the petit train.

For dinner we had a leek quiche and salad with mango and beet, one of Ally's favorites. Ally loves beets. I think they're okay. Eli doesn't like particularly them, and they're kind of dangerous. The danger comes from the juice: not all the food you give Eli ends up in his mouth, and we worry about stains. So we don't give him much beet. We also ended up with three melons, since everyone went shopping without knowing what the others were getting. Melons are good, though.



Stéphanie dropped by and gave us some macarons from Bouillet. They were so good. We had caramel-salt, chocolate, coffee, chocolate-orange, and vanilla. French macarons are usually not the coconut balls we're used to, although those do exist here. Instead, macaron are small filled pastries made chiefly of egg white, almond flour, and sugar. (What our grocery-store coconut macaroons and proper macarons have in common is the egg white base: they're both evolved meringues.) Bouillet makes some higher-concept flavors like fennel-onion, guacamole-paprika, and peach-lychee. We might have to go get some.

My work continues to go well, and I think Ally is writing about hers.

Rain to shine

Eli had his first big day with Vic and Candie. It began with a five-fifty wakeup--much too early for our tastes. Eli and I got dressed and went out for bread. When we returned, there was a lot more activity. Ally left for the archive. I accompanied the others in to show them around Lyon a bit. We waited nearly an hour for a bus that is supposed to come every twenty minutes. Did I mention it was raining? Well, it was, but that cleared up. After it came, we rode downtown and ended up walking around the middle of the Presqu'île.


Brief discursus on the geography of Lyon. Lyon is located at the confluence of the Rhône and Saône rivers. Both flow from the north, with the Rhône east of the Saône. Lyon was basically settled from west to east. The Gaulish and then Roman settlement was on the heights of Fourvière, near the bend in the Saône. This area is called Vieux (Old) Lyon. It's where the cathedral is. After the Middle Ages, the center of activity moved to the Presqu'île (Peninsula). Nowadays that's the nicest part of town. The north end of the Presqu'île is La Croix-Rousse, historically the center of the city's silk industry. It's pretty hilly. The area east of the Rhône is newer and includes the Parc de la Tête d'Or, Lyon's sole skyscraper, and the Part Dieu train station we keep ending up at. (The Presqu'île has its own train station, Perrache.) Our apartment is in the area known charitably as Lyon Plage, although there's certainly no beach here.

After I left them, Vic and Candie took Eli around Fourvière for a view of the city, before coming back down to the Presqu'île for more fun. It was supposed to rain, but in fact the weather was very pleasant except for a brief afternoon downpour. So they got to go more places than they had expected without resorting to malls or museums. They even crossed the Rhône, so Eli went all over. He especially enjoyed playing in the Roman ruins. I am told the he decried much of the reconstruction as "highly speculative" and "insufficiently attested by written records and similar sites." Fourvière, in particular, afforded an excellent view of the city, so Eli and his caretakers can now be trusted never to get lost.


Eli continues to dislike Swiss-style cheeses. This is unfortunate because France's default inexpensive cheese is emmenthal. It's funny how expensive and special emmenthal is in the States, but then cheddar is very pricey here. The French just don't do much orange cheese, but Eli does, so we end up buying him grocery-store mimolette.

Ally had a pretty good day at the archive. She ended up going out to dinner at Le Nord, another Bocuse brasserie, with her family. Maybe you'll find out how that was. The rest of us had chicken curry that I made. Actually only I had chicken curry, because Vic doesn't like chicken and Candie doesn't like curry. My secret for good curry in France is Uncle Ben's sauce. Yes, there's a wide range of Uncle Ben's products that are not sold in the United States.

More visitors

It rained most of today. The weather has really been awful, and the change from May to June made no difference.

This morning Ally, Eli, and I braved the storm to visit the market along the Saône. We saw a lot of great things we'd like to try, but we did not buy very much since we knew we'd be out most of the day. We bought some items for dinner and some classic orange apricots.

We met up with Jenafer, Marty, and Nano for a bus tour of Lyon. It certainly beat walking in the rain, and the narration was at times comical. The very serious narrator told us that some bridge over the Rhône was destroyed during World War II, and therefore "had to be rebuilt exactly as it was before the war." Yes, the Lyonnais had to recreate the bridge. There was simply no alternative. I suppose if they had not rebuilt it, the Nazis would have won. We were also informed that "the Lumière Brothers, of course, invented the cinematograph." Of course they did. Of course.

We got off the bus partway through--it was one of those "hop-on, hop-off" affairs, although neither Eli nor Nano do much hopping--for lunch. It looked like we were going to eat at Sud, a Paul Bocuse brasserie, but for some reason that did not occur. We ended up at a restaurant nearby and had a good meal. Ally, Jenafer, and I chose tartiflette (potatoes with onions, lardons, and reblochon), which is unbeatable. On the other hand, Ally and I failed to realize that gratinée d'oignon is the Lyonnais term for what is called in Paris soupe à l'oignon: French onion soup. We had imagined something quite different.

We hopped back on the bus, but then I got off a little later to meet Vic and Candie at Part Dieu. I found them just as they were stepping off the train. Yes, it was very fortunate, because they weren't actually expecting me. Ally and Eli came a little bit later, after seeing her relatives to a museum, and we all went back out to the apartment. Vic and Candie packed very light, so we made the trip by bus.

We made the dinner we had bought: fresh ravioli from the market. We had two varieties: zucchini flower (which we served with a jar of very fresh and chunky tomato sauce, almost like a salsa) and fig-ham (which we served with oil and fresh parmesan). They were, predictably, excellent. Eli hated his French toddler meal and forced us to give him ravioli. Well, I don't blame him. The toddler meal smelled horrible whereas the adults were all enjoying the ravioli.

Eli went to sleep, leaving us adults to make some phone calls and plan the next few days. We will report on our plans if they come to fruition or fail spectacularly, but not if they are simply superseded by events.

A strange evening in Lyon

I had not expected anything interesting to happen in the hours since the last post, but in fact plenty did.

We decided to meet Jenafer, Marty, and Nano for dinner. Since they don't know the city very well, we decided to meet them at their hotel, which as you will recall is right near the Part Dieu train station. We took the bus to get there. On the way, we were controlled; that is, transit agents inspected every passenger's tickets or passes. There were about eight agents on this control detail, all of whom were tough-looking men of above-average size. Two people on our bus did not have anything entitling them to travel, so they were taken off. If that happens to you, you can pay a large fine on the spot or an even larger fine later. Anyway, the two people pulled off were a tiny white girl and a skinny black man, so it was especially comical seeing them surrounded by the big agents.

I didn't take any pictures because you never, ever photograph French law enforcement officials at work. The law does not permit distribution of such images, mostly because of a justified fear of personal reprisals against officers doing their jobs.

Anyway, we got to the hotel. We decided not to go very far and ended up at the shopping mall on the other side of the train station from the hotel. We ate at Bistro Romain, which is the French equivalent of The Olive Garden. Now keep in mind that it's in France (where food tends to be better than in America) and that the cuisine is Italian (which French people do well), so it's better than The Olive Garden, but still, it's not the type of restaurant we frequent. But it does serve at all hours and is pretty accommodating of the young and old. So we had a good meal.

I didn't take any pictures because French law (la loi Potemkin, to be precise) prohibits publicizing that there are malls and chain restaurants in France.

We left before dessert because it was getting late for Eli and we wanted to pick up some groceries. We stopped at an independent supermarket on the Presqu'île. (I might talk about geography later.) There Ally ran into her friend Zoë. Zoë and Ally taught English at the Université de Lyon II--Paul Lumière during the 1999-2000 school year. They had lost track of each other since. Zoë lives in Lyon now; she's originally from the north of England. It was just such a coincidence to run into her. If we'd been a few minutes earlier or later, we would not have. We are going to try to meet up with her later this week.

I didn't take any pictures because Ally and Zoë wouldn't let me.

Back to Lyon

Today we moved out of our apartment in Aix. Jenafer and Ally did the bulk of the cleaning while Marty and I entertained Eli. They must have done a good job, because the landlady returned our entire deposit. We went out to the TGV station by taxi--the same taxi that had brought us into town. (We had called because of the driver's excellent service.) The train arrived about half an hour late, turning a comfortable margin into a pointless and dispiriting wait.

Eli had fun on the train. He mostly sat in a seat. We rode first class, our visitors having purchased a first-class rail pass, so the seat was huge.

Eli ate some of Ally's pan bagnat (tuna sandwich, basically a salade niçoise on bread). We had bought sandwiches in the station to eat on board. There are sandwiches and hot food aboard, but it's pretty expensive. Ally noticed that a smoothie and a shot of Ricard pastis cost the same (€ 3.90), which made us wonder if they would go well together. We decided not to try it.

The cheapest drink on the menu was a glass of vin de cépage--wine so undistinguished that it is known only by the variety of grape from which it is made, as in, "I'll have a glass of merlot." Quelle horreur! It used to be that the lowest grade of wine was vin de pays ("wine of country"), but varietals are truly wine of no country! (Look, I do not care what kind of grape the vintner used. That is a technical detail beneath my notice. Rhapsodize all you want about your pinots. I care where the wine came from, because that is the true measure of its character.)

We also had some of the bleu d'Auvergne, which I really thought Christopher had finished. If I am lucky I will get to go the Auvergne this week, maybe Le Puy-en-Velay. We will see. The countryside zipped by as we passed from Provence into Burgundy, and soon we were braking for Lyon.



Marty, Jenafer, and Nano have decided to spend two nights in Lyon before going up to Paris. They are at a hotel near the train station, to which they walked. We are back in our apartment on the Saône, which we reached by taxi. During the ride, Ally and I were remarking on how much better the weather seemed to be in Lyon than in Aix, where it had been hot and rainy. Here it was mild and clearing. We went into the Tunnel de la Croix Rousse and emerged in a downpour! So much for better weather.

At the apartment, the landlady, Stéphanie, saved the few things we left behind--tea, sugar, and other staples we hoped to use again. She is so thoughtful. We also brought a few items from Aix, so we can eat for a day or so without doing any shopping. Eli had fallen asleep in the cab and we managed to get him to nap in his bed once it was set up.

We think we will venture back into town to dine with Ally's family and perhaps buy some groceries. We're really looking forward to the arrival of Vic and Candie, my father and his wife, tomorrow.

Last day in Aix

Today was our last full day in Aix. We relocate to Lyon tomorrow.

Eli went to Aix's natural history museum today. Vic and Candie probably remember going there with us when they visited. The museum features fossils from all over Provence. Eli came home for lunch and napped while Jenafer, Marty, and Nano had crepes for lunch. He would probably have liked that, but he liked sleeping even more. After he got up, Eli and I bought diapers, then went with Jenafer and Marty to say goodbye to the boar fountain. Eli picked up the word "bo" almost immediately. I would really like to bring him back someday.

We ate out tonight at a restaurant on the Cours Mirabeau. Some highlights of the meal include Nano's assiete napoli, which was a sampler of Italianate favorites such as melon and prosciutto and eggplant parmesan; Marty's mojito sorbet; and the raspberry coulis that accompanied my fondant au chocolat (brownie). Eli got hold of a long spoon and, while no one was looking, managed to scoop up some of the coulis. When we get Jenafer's pictures, I'll add one to this post showing just what an accomplishment it was.

Tonight we will start cleaning the apartment so we can give it back in good condition tomorrow. We will really miss Aix and especially our apartment.

More rain in Aix

Eli got to ride on a train today, although it was just the petit train touristique. He, Jenafer, Marty, and Nano rode the full circuit, which included not only many of the streets of old Aix that we have been walking, but a ride up to Cézanne's studio.

For lunch, the four of them went to an Italian restaurant on the Cours Mirabeau. Eli did not like gnocchi, although it's unclear whether that was because of the sauce or the gnocchi itself. We will report more on this story as it develops.

Some of you may be wondering why I write so much about food. Well, in part it's because we are eating better than you are. That's not a taunt or boast; it's just the truth. We did not study the First Amendment in my Constitutional Law class, but I'm pretty sure it says you have the right to say anything you want as long as it's true. If you try to stop me, then that's called prior restraint, which means that whichever of us is the first to force the other person into one of the prescribed positions then has the right to force the other person to say "Uncle" or any other word the victor chooses. We alternate specifying the time, place, and manner of the contest. In the landmark case New York Times v. Sullivan, an Irishman named Sullivan was foolish enough to challenge the New York Times newspaper to such a contest and received such a drubbing at the hands of the Old Gray Lady that the Supreme Court declared newspapers can print whatever they want. 376 U.S. 254 (1964). Or something like that. Actual con law scholars should feel free to write in.

But the main reason is that my mom probably appreciates it. Mary and I went to Europe in the summers of 1999 and 2000. After the 1999 trip, Mom wanted to know about all the good things we had eaten. So in 2000 we kept a journal that focused mainly on food. (Mary's a nutritionist now--see the connection?)

In that vein, for dinner we had chicken cordon bleu, gratin dauphinois, and green beans with shallots. The first two we picked up premade from a boucherie-charcuterie (butcher-delicatessen); the third Ally made. Eli had some of the vegetables and another one of his meat-substitute patties. (We weren't sure how nutritious the cordon bleu would be.)

Here we are on our way to go shopping. That building behind is the Chapelle des Pénitents Blancs des Carmes, right on the end of our street. The Penitents were kicked out during the Revolution and it eventually became an art school. Since 1951, it's been an empty building. It is currently being rehabilitated for use as a multifunction performance and exhibition space.

Pictures

You might be wondering why there have been so few pictures of Eli lately. He's been spending most of the time with Jenafer, Marty, and Nano. Jenafer has a compact Olympus digital camera. It uses xD cards, which my computer can't read. No one brought a cable to connect it to a computer, either. So I'll have to add those pictures later.

Ally uses her Canon to take pictures at the archive. I brought our Panasonic mini-DV camcorder. Both of these use SD cards, which my computer can read.

As advertised, last night Ally and I saw "Sex and the City: Le Film." If you liked the show, you will like the movie. We went to the movie after having dinner with everyone else. Ally wanted Vietnamese food, but the timing just wasn't going to work. You can't usually be seated for dinner before seven. Eli needs to go to bed by eight, preferably by seven-thirty. And we had our movie at nine, and wanted to be early. So we ended up getting food à emporter (to go) from a traiteur. It was pretty good. We also tried the Mont Ste.-Victoire cake we'd been seeing at a nearby bakery. It's kind of like a loaf-shaped fruitcake featuring blueberries and wrapped in almond paste--kind of like marzipan but less sweet than we were expecting. It, too, was pretty good. Marty, who as some of you know used to work at a state liquor store in Utah, has been into this wine store lately. The owner has been picking out good wines for him.

Here's the little guy playing in the apartment. As I mentioned earlier, we brought his blocks. He really likes playing with them. Marty is sitting on the couch, which turns into a bed. If you like the household furnishings, you can get them all at Ikea.

Sex and the City: Le film

I just bought the tickets, so tonight Ally and I are going to see the "Sex and the City" movie--or as they call it here, "Sex and the City: Le Film." It's a good thing they put that French word in the title or audiences would have been confused.

When I bought the tickets, the receptionist made sure I knew the film would be in French. This is called version française (VF). Apparently a few theaters--none of which are in Aix--are showing it in English with French subtitles, which is version originale (VO). A movie is more likely to be shown in VO if it is serious, dramatic, or in some sense a classic. It may surprise you to learn that, among mass-appeal pictures, action films are more likely to be shown in VO than comedies are; I think it's because comedy audiences want to understand the dialogue whereas action audiences care more about the explosions. (Whatever the reason, we were able to see the Lord of the Rings, Matrix, and Star Wars movies in VO. For Harry Potter in VO, we had to go to Monaco, but there aren't many movie theaters in Nice anyway.)

"SATC" is, let's face it, a fluffy comedy spun off from a television series. In our country there is a dim memory that the series was first shown on HBO alongside such weighty fare as "The Sopranos" and "The Wire" and earned many awards before it was bowdlerized and put in endless repetition on TBS. In France, "SATC" went straight to late-night television. Needless to say, on television it was dubbed. Of course, this being France, they could show everything. So the audience expects to hear Carrie and the gang speaking French. The bottom line is that the movie will make more money being shown in VF. Some big city theaters will have it in VO, so we might see it again.

The film enters general release in France today, but Americans won't see it in their multiplexes until Friday. Why? In France, films premiere on Wednesdays--Wednesday is the French film industry's Friday.

In Aix with new faces

Eli got to spend the day in Aix with his new friends, Jenafer, Marty, and Nano. Eli doesn't really have names for anyone besides me ("da-da") and Ally ("ma-ma" or, recently, "mba-ba"). He learned to point to Aunt Mary and Uncle Chris, though, so maybe he'll get that far with more people.

Today Eli got up at seven and went to the market. Then he went around and had lunch with his visitors from Utah. I got to see him a little bit for his midday nap. Then we went shopping for dinner supplies. I put together a roast chicken, asparagus, and mashed potatoes for dinner. Marty, Eli, and I went to Crêpes-a-Go-Go to get everyone dessert.



This apartment has a shower only, so we bathe Eli in the kitchen sink. At first he liked this, then we made the mistake of draining some water while he was in the sink. That really freaked him out, and he hated going in the sink after that. Tonight Ally and Jenafer made the sink into a bubble bath. That distracted the little guy, and he lost his bathing anxiety. Eli's favorite part of bedtime is still brushing his teeth. He really gets into it.

Tomorrow's plans include the tourist train around Aix.

Transition

I didn't take any pictures today!

Mary and Christopher had to catch their flight home from Marseille today. The taxi came for them at four-fifteen in the morning. We imagine they got back okay and hope they'll let us know. Eli went looking for them when he got up at eight and was pretty disappointed not to see them. The weather was pretty foul in the morning but got better later on.

Ally went to work and I got to play with Eli all day. We went to the big Monop' again for groceries. The grocery department is on the lower floor, and there's no elevator, so it was a bit of an adventure for me and Eli. I got him some new foods that I hope he'll like. He enjoyed the meat-substitute patty I served him for lunch, and took to the baby biscuits as well. I treated myself to an old favorite: Sodebo refrigerator pizza. (French grocers know that not all apartment-dwellers have good freezers, so there are lots of foods that are meant to be refrigerated whereas in America we would only have a freezer version. That's not to say that frozen foods aren't also available in France; quite the contrary.)

Mary and Christopher left, but replacing them are Ally's mother Jenafer; her boyfriend Marty; and her mother Patricia, whom everyone calls "Nano." That's what Ally called her when she was a toddler, and the name stuck. They came down from Dijon today and will be with us in Aix until Saturday, when we leave, too.

We met our visitors at the Hotel Negrocoste, where Nano is staying, and brought them over for dinner. I made pasta with our lardon sauce. We've been making this since 2002. Ally reminded me tonight that we actually got it from the "Produce Pete" segment on the midday news when we lived in Nice. If there were lardons in America, we'd make it there. (You could dice rashers of bacon to get the same effect, but my Publix does not stock rashers.)

Tomorrow I will probably show Ally's relatives around Aix, including of course the Tuesday market, then work on my project.

Today is not Memorial Day in France. It is just a regular Monday.

Culinary roundup

Tonight for dinner, Ally made salade niçoise, as she has been threatening to do for weeks. We have learned that some of you haven't enjoyed this wonderful dish or are not familiar with its ingredients. It's like a chef's salad that includes--besides salad greens--tuna, green beans, hard-boiled eggs, boiled potatoes, and of course black niçois olives. The latter can be found in specialty food stores in the States, or virtually anywhere in France. Without the tuna and olives, you have made some sort of German-style salad--yuck! Who can resist throwing in some tomatoes as well? The dressing is usually the standard French thin mustardy dressing. French salads do not usually "star" the dressing as some of ours (caesar salad, anything with ranch or raspberry vinaigrette, etc.) do. We should note that the sweet tomato-based dressing called "French" in our country is not attested in actual French cooking. Having a choice of dressings is unheard of in France. Anyway, it is pretty good if you like those ingredients.

Eli does not, so he had a spinach omelette. French people eat omelettes for lunch and dinner, but never for breakfast. Cooked eggs for breakfast? Sacre bleu! Actually, we have seen that some cafés are offering breakfasts that include eggs and even bacon. They often call this "brunch." So you could come in at, let's say, eight, and ask for "petit déjeuner" (En. breakfast) to get bread and pastries; or you could ask for "brunch" (En., umm, brunch?) and you would get what we anglophones know as breakfast. You could do the same thing at ten in the morning, with the same result. I thought we had the G8 to prevent this sort of thing happening.

Eli also had strawberries. He demanded to have all the strawberries he could see put on his tray before he would eat any.

Many Provençal dishes include herbes de Provence. This is a spice mix first marketed in the 1970s that includes marjoram, rosemary, basil, bay leaf, thyme, and lavender. These are all grown in the region; lavender, in particular, is a major product of Provence. Just about any dish is improved by a dash of herbes de Provence. You can buy it anywhere in Provence, even at furniture stores and locksmiths.

If Rick Steves ever offers you herbes de provence or any other plant material, just say no.

Saturday in Provence: A Retrospective

As you know, yesterday we rented a car and drove north to the Luberon. That's the part of Provence made famous by Peter Mayle, A Year in Provence (1989) and several sequels by the same author. Provence is such a big area of France (cf. California) that it's hard to know what people are expecting when they say they are going there on vacation, but if they want the Provence of small towns, fresh fruit, and dramatic hill-and-valley terrain, then they want the Luberon, or more generally the department of the Vaucluse.

Our rental was a Renault Scénic, which is one of those small-format family hatchbacks that has become popular lately. (We rented a similar Dodge Caliber to get from our home to the airport.) Ally liked driving it, and it was comfortable enough, particularly if you were not in the back seat as these luckless individuals were. On the way out of Aix, we stopped at the Géant Casino, a "hypermarket" which is much bigger than any Wal-Mart or Target you may be imagining. Don't let the movies or the quaint markets you've visited fool you; real French people actually do their shopping in huge stores, where they get everything in bulk.

Our first tourist stop was Isle-sur-la-Sorgue, called the Venice of the Luberon because it has rivers and canals running through it. Europeans are fond of calling any city, town, or village "the Venice of X" on the slimmest pretense. Why, I wonder? I associate Venice with being lost, paying high prices, and wondering what you were thinking when you got on the train. Isle-sur-la-Sorgue has a better claim to fame, though. Most people know that Jim Morrison died in Paris, but they are probably not aware that a Doors song was inspired by Morrison's visit to Isle-sur-la-Sorgue, which translates literally to "Island on the Sorgue." (The lyrics were changed to make the song more marketable.) Ally and I spent most of the day singing "Island on the Sorgue" to each other. The joke never got old.

It was lunch time when we got to Isle-sur-la-Sorgue, so we pulled out the lunches we had made. Yes, we packed lunches back in Aix: sandwiches made with a horrible-looking, and therefore exquisite, purple tomato and mozzarella accompanied by fresh fruit which most likely came from the region we were visiting. It was happy to be home! We discovered that Eli is fully capable of --and very enthused about--biting into apricots and pears, so let him eat that way. His tiny bite marks are so cute when they're on fruit.

We had our picnic in a park on the Sorgue. Also eating there were some people from town, other vacationers, and the town's vagabonds with their dogs. This one guy very purposefully walked over to a garbage can, pulled out a can of beer, and drank from it, as if he'd left it there for later. He went on to pull out a bunch more and do the same thing, then moved on to the other poubelles, making me wonder the first beer actually had been his. I did not know about this way of finding beverages. It was not in the Rick Steves guide, which is surprising considering that he insists you can eat for free in Europe by sitting in restaurants and demanding free bread in the local tongue. (Again, not a practice we recommend.)



We bought ice cream cones for dessert, then drove on to Gordes, passing through bright fields of poppies along the way. This part of France is noted for cultivation of fruit, particularly cherries, apricots, peaches, and strawberries. Grapes from this region are used to make wines with the appellation Côtes du Luberon (mostly reds). We saw many vineyards and orchards during our drive. We didn't stop to taste any wine or buy any fruit, since we can get this stuff in stores and markets and, more important, we wanted to get our car back to the agency promptly. We think we will go winetasting near Lyon, where there are more prestigious vineyards.



Gordes is a magnificent hilltop village offering spectacular views across the valley to the north. We took Eli up and down some grades that exceeded thirty percent. Besides the vista--which alone justifies visiting the town--there is a cute church, a war memorial (who could have imagined?), and a café with the curious name "Cercle Républicain." The last is what the illegal social democratic organizations of this region were called in the 1840s, the last decade of the July Monarchy.

In Gordes we started noticing lots of American tourists. I guess we're not the only Americans willing to brave the poor exchange rate, high airfares, and France's renowned hatred of liberty. We have been surprised so far by the low incidence of American students in Aix. Lots of universities have summer programs here, but the students seem to be staying away from downtown.

We continued to Roussillon, which sits atop a huge deposit of ocher, as the photograph indicates. (Roussillon is not to be confused with a larger Roussillon in French Catalonia. So just don't.) After driving up to the town, braving some tiny streets, and parking, we wandered around. Christopher bought some ocher that he plans to turn into paint. Roussillon is supposed to have the world's best ocher; the fact that it's located in an area that artists frequent certainly can't have hurt the brisk business done by the town's ocher merchants.

Isn't this photograph great? It's part of a series Mary has been shooting so that he will have a supply of author photos in case he writes a book. "Christopher Dye, MFA, splits his time between Manhattan and Provence. Besides the subject of this book, he is interested in sustainable agriculture, world dairy products, music that will become uncool if you start listening to it, and his nephew, Eli." This is about the least cheesy of the pictures.



It was getting late and we were supposed to have the car back by six. The rain had also begun to come down. We took what looked to us like a shortcut through Apt. Yes, that's the name of the town, not just what Lisa's analogy between the Whore of Babylon and the First Church of Springfield was. Apt is kind of bigger than we'd been hoping. It might be a nice place to find a hotel, but has no place on a driving itinerary. Eli decided to sleep around three. He had been up since five-thirty!

We drove south through a picturesque gorge. That meant the road was kind of adventurous. Ally, as you may know, does not remember much of our trip to Ireland because she was morning sick the whole time. I have periodically tried to relate to her the horror of driving on Irish roads; however, driving in the Luberon was much more challenging. I always feel safe with her at the wheel and this was no exception.



Crossing the Durance, we returned to the outskirts of Aix and the Coteaux d'Aix-en-Provence wine region (rosés and reds). The rain was falling and there was a surprising amount of traffic for a Saturday afternoon. Mother's Day travelers, perhaps?

We tried our best but we got back to Aix a little late. We had a twenty-four-hour rental, but the downtown agency was going to be closed Sunday, so we'd have to return the car to the TGV station and take a shuttlebus back. Fortunately, there were still people at the agency at six-twenty and they were willing to accept the car even though they didn't have to. Then we came back home and did things I've already told you about.