Bois de Bologne

This Sunday, we headed to the West edge of Paris to explore the Bois de Bologne, a forest that once inspired many of France's impressionist painters and now gives Parisians a place to bring their children/bikes/dogs/significant others to explore.
We wandered through woods, across bridges and small streams to a grassy island. Every now and again we'd happen across surprises: a campsite, a playground, a horse track and polo field, a tennis club...
...or some mushrooms...
...or some berries. It seemed as if the forest had been intentionally planted with edible fruits (plums, elderberries, etc). We picked some just-starting-to-ripen blackberries to eat as we walked. During the picking process I was rudely introduced to stinging nettles--ouch!
On the opposite edge of the woods we hit Neuilly, the posh suburb of Paris where Nicolas Sarkozy grew up.
Tom was our self-appointed navigator. I still maintain that I have a better sense of direction, though.
Eventually, thanks to either his navigation skills or plain luck, we managed to find the woods' central ponds.

We rented out a row boat. Paddling was much less work than I expected.
Contrary to appearances, Tom actually did most of the work.
It was fun to see who else was out on the water: Grandparents with their grandchildren, old and young couples, tourists chattering in various languages and snapping loads of pictures, fathers in suits rowing their entire family, all adorned in the Sunday best, etc. There was also a little riverboat (that red thing in the background) to shuttle people who weren't cool enough to get a row boat back and forth to the central island (and its cafés and restaurants).
The pond was pretty shallow, but there was a lot of fish and plant life in it, not to mention whole flocks of ducks and the world's largest population of water striders.
When we tired of rowing, we pulled our boat up on the grassy shore of the deserted side and sat in the shadow of this sculpture for a fruit picnic.

Jazz in the parc

Paris never ceases to amaze. Just when I think I'm starting to get a feel for it I discover a new hidden gem. This weekend, that gem was the aptly-named "Parc Floral" in the Bois de Vincennes, just to the Southeast of the city.
(doesn't this look like scenery straight out of Jurassic Park?)

For the month of July, the park is hosting a weekend Jazz Festival. This meant that our 2.50 euros provided access not only to the beautiful gardens, ponds, forests and picnicking fields, but also relaxing music to enjoy while we explored. The photo below shows the stage where the performers were based, on the island across the lake. The sound carried to the surrounding fields however, so like many of the other jazz fans we opted to find a sunny spot to sprawl rather than join the standing crowd.
We layed out our picnic blanket on this hill overlooking a heavily lilly-padded pond and basked in the sunlight.
Close-up of the oddly tall water lily plants:
The huge leaves of these tall flowers were bowl-shaped to collect water:
I found a more traditional water lily lurking beneath some lily pads:
An ol' coot and some coot-ettes!
The obligatory cute couple shot:
Bumble bee on a sunflower (known in French as a "sun-turner" because they pivot to follow the sun)...
Once the music had ended, we took an hour or so to wander around the back of the park. We found a really cool playground (featuring steep slides and a giant, bouncy spider web that you could definitely never find in modern, sue-happy America):And an enclosed butterfly garden:

Giverny revisited

One of the perks of my new job is that I occasionally get to lead/accompany American undergraduates on their trips in and around Paris. Last Friday, for example, I got a free trip (and comp'ed lunch) to Giverny--the rural town to the Northwest of Paris that Monet once called home. Longtime readers of this blog will remember that I was here in the fall for my graduate orientation, when the apples were ripe and falling from the trees. This time around I got to see a little more of the flowers.

Odd flower:


See the bee?
Another bee, in flight this time:

By far my favorite shot of the day. Considering having it printed as a poster to fill some of our blank wall space:

Springtime in Paris!

Look what those April showers brought...

(I do realize it's now June. I'm a little behind on posts is all. Cross my heart these are, in fact, May flowers. And not the pilgrim variety, either.)

Sunshine, sculptures, soccer and sugar highs

Summertime officially hit Paris this weekend. High spirits, low cut clothing, and brightly colored balls of gelatto abound. What better time to have a three-day weekend?

We rose early on Saturday for yet another apt visit (verdict: huge and pretty nice, but a little too far from the metro) followed by a leisurely stroll around town. We stopped for espresso and baguette sandwiches in the street-side 'terrace' of my favorite boulangerie before heading to Bastille to check out the artisan market, where I bought a pressed-flower suspended in Pyrex necklace.

Then it was on to a friend's birthday picnic (the first of several this weekend) in Parc Montsouris for some cheese, chorizo, wine, kir, and of course, decadent desserts. Stuffed and happy, we attempted to burn off some calories with Frisbee. Afterward we accompanied a few German friends to watch the champions league final football match between Munich and Milan, settling for a Haitian creole restaurant with a huge flat screen when the nearby bars were too packed. (The food was way worth the compromise--chicken in an octopus sauce, with plantains, peanut sauce and some pretty intense peppers...mmm!)

Sunday and Monday called for even more picnicking, popsicles and Frisbee. We also managed to finally make it over to the Rodin museum for a sunny stroll around the sculpture garden:

You could see the golden dome of Invalides in the background:
He had a simple (legible!) but elegant autograph. I particularly like the "N":
There were several statues missing clothing, limbs or even heads that were apparently studies for later, completed statues that allowed Rodin to really get a sense for the anatomy beneath the cloth and the realism of a movement or gesture. Here's a shot of a finished piece with the stumpy study in the background:

And then the obligatory:

Hyde and seek with French littérature

Knowing I needed to get some reading done in London but reluctant to miss out on playing tourist, I compromised with a leisurely morning in Hyde Park and its neighboring Kensington gardens. After roaming the grounds, I bought a latté at a lakeside café and dove into Maupassant (a 19th century book I really enjoyed, about a man from humble origins who takes advantage of the fact that he has an irrisistable moustache--seriously!--to seduce numerous rich/powerful women).

The park itself was nice; a little less manicured than Parisian parks and but still full of fountains and memorials, and even memorial fountains! My favorite find was a Peter Pan statue that was apparently commissioned by J. M. Barrie and installed in the middle of the night to appear as if by magic for children in the morning.





Later in the day I wandered through some posh neighborhoods and past a pub frequented by Voltaire (I suppose during his post-Candide exile?) over to the Victoria and Albert Museum. Like D.C.'s Smithsonian, all London museums are free, so I went on in and began browsing their collections of British artifacts. The museum itself was pretty interesting, housed in a building that mixed the old and the new, with a traditional dome in the lobby paired with a strange modern glass sculpture. Its open, two-story wings allowed you to look down onto the exhibition floors of castings from above, which was a cool perspective. The museum's contents were a strange mix as well, ranging from European antiques and artwork to less traditional museum fare like ironworks, early digital art, and even a wing celebrating theater via a collection of costumes, props and lighting. The definite highlight was the impressively lifelike rhino costume (but is it an Asiatic or and African?) used in Ionesco's Rhinocéros, which has remained my favorite absurd theatre piece since I read it for a course a few years ago. Brilliant.