Into the Fray

After a well deserved and restful slumber ( I was out like a light) the morning brought coffee, creme, croissants, jam, orange juice, hard breads and and in-room satisfaction before the day begins. The subway (Metro or Metropolitain) is literally 30 steps from the hotel entrance and I am off on another adventure for the day. In past trips the Carte l'orange or Navigo metro pass has been used, but this time I try to Paris Visite pass. subway access can also be gained by carnets used individually but is more costly. Contact the french railway for cost and prices of all passes- they do have something for everyone and every time schedule.

The subway winds its way to Metro St. Paul where a 12 piece impromptu orchestra uses the acoustics of the rounded subway ceilings to make wonderful echoes of their music. We mounted the stairs to look from above when they played classic Vivaldi, "Spring" and the sights and sounds add to the morning adventure. Truly a sight in the bustling movement of the subway, some stopping for a moment, other listening for a bit and others sitting on the sides of the long alleyway underground, to hear the clarity of sound. Truly an bombardment of the senses. an older woman ( I should talk), quietly leaned against the wall below, staring towards the orchestra. She became lost in time yet keeping the beat with her once nimble hands. Precisely hitting each chord and conducting the movement with her arms signalling each sound. She was a passerby, merely caught in a moment of sound in which she chose to participate.

Ascending to the street and the fresh, clear air of morning, we shop the area one small boutique after another for some incredible finds in material, chocolate, candies for the relatives at home. Taking a piece of Paris home is not a difficult task with the multitudes to choose from, but shoose wisely. Small and manageable items of chocolate, scarves, watches, shoes and clothing are the best for friends and relatives. You will have the memories and pictures ( take many) to remember your trip.

After meandering the shops and lanes and several passageways (covered marketing areas with shops), we find our journey in a place we have looked for in the past, but have always been delayed or distracted, thus never finding. rue de Rosiers is a small seemingly lost street that takes you back in time. It is old, narrow, dusted with the webs of the past both literally and figuratively. Rosiers is the Jewish section of the city still boasting a thriving community with the spirit and honor of the past trying desperately to fit with the contemporary world. This was one of the many deportation areas throughout the city and a reminder that in revealing itself to the tourist, is a passageway into the history of a dark European era.

The ecole (school) is marked by the plaque of deportation of children, Jewish men huddled in black with squared hats beards and side ringlets, vigorously express their conversation in hushed tones but animation, the synagogue looms to the sky behind stark walls and the narrow alleyways of the area are reminiscent of the dark stone walls of confinement. As i stand reading the deportation plaque, a police siren wails in the distance- that two toned ring signalling the impending danger. No one on the street seems particularly interested, but to me, it startles me and brings me to the WWII era. the same sounds echoing through the street when menacing occupation troops came to "resettle" this area. It was an eerie reminder and haunts me each time I hear the sirens.

The area ends as inauspiciously as it began. The path to Place Vosges past the Holocaust museum ( i have already seen this venue), is now a means to lunch in the rain. Sitting in Place Vosges under the canopied arches looming above next to a heater, coffee is needed and time to pull the scarf out. Drenched, yet smiling we lunch next to the art galleries of the Vosges and revel in the places we have already found on a somewhat dreary day. But we head out refreshed and ready to find new parts of the city we haven't seen in times past.

this afternoon we are entering the musee du Jacquemart, a mansion tucked in the city which is overlooked if you are not actively seeking it. It is a marvel wonder with landscaped gardens, fountains and flowers which extend inside to the conservatory and the split staircase to the second floor. a beautifully decorated home with art, sculpture, furniture and windows of the period. Lunch, coffee or tea can be taken in the small and cozy restaurant area near the bookstore. It is as if the mansion and small piece of architectural wonder has been placed not to be found by the tourist, but for those who persevere, upon finding this gems, it will be one of the many memories of what Paris was like and possibly still is. One simply must look beyond the glossy brochures and hit the streets.

The rain has forced us to sit under the canopies of the outdoor cafes for coffee. Now, I don't ever have to be forced to rest and have french coffee. It truly is a way to energize the mind and heart before moving to another perspective of life in the city. Heading back to the hotel to refresh before the evening, we are huddled and laughing under our umbrella (parapluie) as we a bumped, jostled and hip checked by others who cant remember the size or positions of their umbrellas. Nothing intentional, merely a matter of survival in the rain and the natural flow of walking the byways and sidewalks of the city.

That evening, we attend the Cathdral concert at 8pm. the Paris Orchestra and Opera is filling the Cathedral with "Elias" and seating is open. arrive early for concerts and mingle with those in line and you will learn more about the city than from any book, blog or critic. We met a couple who had come from the United States, loved it, and sold their home. They moved to an apartment in Paris. They now live in the Marais section of the city and love the opportunities the location provides. It did cost however- 3,000e a month, but his tone was uplifting as he told us, "It has a lift!" The perspective shifts as I come to realize that, yet again, the simple parts of life are the positive.

The concert ended at 11pm and although tired from the daily drek, we know that our room awaits and there is another day tomorrow. Oh, to sell my house and become a resident of this city- A delightful and PERFECT thought....