A Weekend in Paris

The longer we stay in Paris the more I focus on feeling the city. The city is a visual feast of nature, architecture, sculpture, and painting. Touring the cemetery Pere-Lachaise combined those elements. The trees were old, grand, broadly wrinkled. They are a welcome natural canopy for the many visitors. The leaves and branches provided us shelter against a light sprinkle of rain. I imagine the trees also provide shelter from the hot sun as well. Under these trees are the many markers and monuments. At times it seemed as if we were on a treasure hunt to find the gravesite of one historical figure or other. Once one was found, we would share knowledge of the persons work or contributions to art or literature. I felt as if we were celebrating their lives again. At Oscar Wilde's grave I was trying to remember more of what he had written. I was touched by some of the graffiti on stone, overlooking the act of defacing, but noticing how his work still touched others and that they felt that and expressed. At Chopin’s grave, I heard piano etudes in my head. At Jim Morrison's grave, I was amazed at the dedication people felt to visit him. It is also interesting to note there is a guard posted there to limit the amount of expression that occurs. Those who are not as well known to the world also receive tribute by virtue of the lavish sculpture and stone work on the mausoleums. Brilliant arrangements of flowers, unique and fitting expressions for each grave, break through the marble and stone landscape. Vigil candles, notes and sentimental keepsakes adorn other sites. I was touched by these personal expressions. It was gratifying to see those physical extensions of memory and emotion. Remembering individuals after they are gone matters to many people here. That seems to have touched me here, maybe more than other places. Another feeling worthwhile to note is the magic of a Paris Sunday. As we left the apartment on Sunday morning I could feel a difference in the tempo of the city. This day was quite different from the rest. Tom and I were out on what would be a failed excursion to rent some bikes. On Sundays the highway along the Seine is closed to traffic for general public use. Many people run, bike and walk along the river with room and freedom from the intense traffic. The Parisians have recently installed a bike rental system in which one can purchase a subscription and with a swipe card, unlock a bike from a secured bike stand and ride around the city. It really is a brilliant idea! Its just that the terminal would not recognize our credit cards. After seeing that the French tourists were having as much trouble with the automated system as we were, I felt disappointed but not discriminated against. Fueled with disappointment --I did what any visitor would do and went to the bakery. What I noticed, but wasn't in the mood to appreciate, was the quieter atmosphere of the big city. A city resting, at peace with itself. That was more apparent in the afternoon when we walked to lunch. I noticed people moving leisurely, enjoying the day, enjoying the food in the cafe, enjoying each other’s company, the sun, the shade, a book on a bench in the park. People took the time and took their time. It is also helpful to note the world did not fall apart. I'm not a great travel planner, but I can make this one recommendation. If you are in Paris on a Sunday, do not plan to be a tourist, plan to be a Parisian for one day. Then go and enjoy a simple walk, a simple meal, a lovely free concert, and some time watching the masters of leisure. Keith (my first blog posting-ever!)