Of course, as both readers of this journal know, I came to Paris to write a screenplay, possibly two, but of late I have realized that I also came to re-discover Paris. Not those parts of Paris that I already knew, nor those parts that typical tourists come to see. Make no mistake, I am a tourist, here for less than a year and that is hardly enough time to consider myself a Parisian.
But in the short time I have here, I am resolved to see as much of this city as I can, and hopefully to record what I see. To this end, I have been taking long walks through the city to those places that typical tourists never go--to the edges of Paris, to those places where people live, but do not go to 'see'. Here are my observations.
Yesterday I took my second longest walk, about 6.6 miles. I know that doesn't seem like a lot, but at the end I was more than a little bit tired--exhausted is a better word to describe it.
I set out up my street, the rue du Faubourg St. Denis, up to the Boulevard Magenta. I walked up to the Rue La Fayette and headed north. This took me above the Gare de L'Est, across train track behind the station and all the way up to Jaures, where I crossed the Canal St. Martin and headed up the Avenue Jean Jaures. This is one of those broad boulevards, without much of interest, mostly phone stores and the occasional supermarket. Few restaurants are on this street, and the ones I saw were all Kebab places, all empty, save for the lone attendant waiting for a customer and glued to his phone. I walk by thinking how hard that job must be, boring and unsatisfying, wondering how these places even survive. Perhaps I have just come by at the wrong time, perhaps later in the day or night they are packed. Somehow I doubt it, more likely the old rule that nine out of ten restaurants fails seems to apply here too.
Eventually I reached the end of Jaures at the Parc de La Villette. I have been here before, on this trip, when I came to the the Museum of Science and Industry, but this time I passed it on the opposite side. A small amusement park, left over from the holidays was still going, but as far as I could tell, no one was there. Here I saw the monumental building that houses the Paris Philharmonic. It's a tribute to the worst of modern architecture, in the style of Gehry, oddly shaped and decorated with designs that recall Escher. It's dreary and ugly, even though it's fairly new, it looks tired and dirty, empty and desolate. I took a few pictures that reflect that mood and moved on, toward the edge of Paris.
From here I walked south, down along the Boulevard d'Indochine, which roughly follows the RER tracks just inside the Peripherique. I left the boulevard where it becomes the Boulevard d'Algerie, thinking it appropriate that these desolate streets were named after failed French colonization attempts and walked through the Parc de la Butte de Chapeau Rouge. The park was almost completely empty, just me, a couple of gardeners and a couple other unemployed wanderers, wondering what the Chapeau Rouge was. No doubt something to do with French heroism on far off shores.
Exiting the park, the street went sharply uphill. There were almost no shops and certainly no restaurants or cafes, and few pedestrians as well. Across the train tracks, I saw an an enormous hospital, the Hopital Robert Debre, which occupies several acres. Not surprisingly, a large church is right in the middle: Notre Dame de Fatima. At this point the street became the Boulevard Serurier, and at what seemed to be the top of the hill, I turned back into the city on the Rue de Bellville.
This is a narrow street that leads almost all the way back to Republique, and seems to be the heart of what could be called Chinatown, for all the signs were in Chinese, and most of the people on the street were Asian. I was pretty much the only round-eye on the street for several blocks. Here I saw butchers with pigs feet in the window, restaurants with menus in Chinese first, then French, no English at all. There were also a lot of jewelers and of course hair salons, bakeries and lots of little grocery stores, with various roots and vegetables out front next to the more familiar fruits of the season, tangerines and apples.
Eventually I found myself on the Rue du Faubourg to Temple, which terminates at Republique, and from there it was a ten minute walk back home. All in all, a long walk, two and a half hours of steady movement. Back home I collapsed in bed for a nap, thinking of all I had seen. Quite a day.
But in the short time I have here, I am resolved to see as much of this city as I can, and hopefully to record what I see. To this end, I have been taking long walks through the city to those places that typical tourists never go--to the edges of Paris, to those places where people live, but do not go to 'see'. Here are my observations.
Yesterday I took my second longest walk, about 6.6 miles. I know that doesn't seem like a lot, but at the end I was more than a little bit tired--exhausted is a better word to describe it.
I set out up my street, the rue du Faubourg St. Denis, up to the Boulevard Magenta. I walked up to the Rue La Fayette and headed north. This took me above the Gare de L'Est, across train track behind the station and all the way up to Jaures, where I crossed the Canal St. Martin and headed up the Avenue Jean Jaures. This is one of those broad boulevards, without much of interest, mostly phone stores and the occasional supermarket. Few restaurants are on this street, and the ones I saw were all Kebab places, all empty, save for the lone attendant waiting for a customer and glued to his phone. I walk by thinking how hard that job must be, boring and unsatisfying, wondering how these places even survive. Perhaps I have just come by at the wrong time, perhaps later in the day or night they are packed. Somehow I doubt it, more likely the old rule that nine out of ten restaurants fails seems to apply here too.
Eventually I reached the end of Jaures at the Parc de La Villette. I have been here before, on this trip, when I came to the the Museum of Science and Industry, but this time I passed it on the opposite side. A small amusement park, left over from the holidays was still going, but as far as I could tell, no one was there. Here I saw the monumental building that houses the Paris Philharmonic. It's a tribute to the worst of modern architecture, in the style of Gehry, oddly shaped and decorated with designs that recall Escher. It's dreary and ugly, even though it's fairly new, it looks tired and dirty, empty and desolate. I took a few pictures that reflect that mood and moved on, toward the edge of Paris.
From here I walked south, down along the Boulevard d'Indochine, which roughly follows the RER tracks just inside the Peripherique. I left the boulevard where it becomes the Boulevard d'Algerie, thinking it appropriate that these desolate streets were named after failed French colonization attempts and walked through the Parc de la Butte de Chapeau Rouge. The park was almost completely empty, just me, a couple of gardeners and a couple other unemployed wanderers, wondering what the Chapeau Rouge was. No doubt something to do with French heroism on far off shores.
Exiting the park, the street went sharply uphill. There were almost no shops and certainly no restaurants or cafes, and few pedestrians as well. Across the train tracks, I saw an an enormous hospital, the Hopital Robert Debre, which occupies several acres. Not surprisingly, a large church is right in the middle: Notre Dame de Fatima. At this point the street became the Boulevard Serurier, and at what seemed to be the top of the hill, I turned back into the city on the Rue de Bellville.
This is a narrow street that leads almost all the way back to Republique, and seems to be the heart of what could be called Chinatown, for all the signs were in Chinese, and most of the people on the street were Asian. I was pretty much the only round-eye on the street for several blocks. Here I saw butchers with pigs feet in the window, restaurants with menus in Chinese first, then French, no English at all. There were also a lot of jewelers and of course hair salons, bakeries and lots of little grocery stores, with various roots and vegetables out front next to the more familiar fruits of the season, tangerines and apples.
Eventually I found myself on the Rue du Faubourg to Temple, which terminates at Republique, and from there it was a ten minute walk back home. All in all, a long walk, two and a half hours of steady movement. Back home I collapsed in bed for a nap, thinking of all I had seen. Quite a day.
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