Read Online Travelers' Tales Paris by James O'Reilly - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: James O'Reilly
Ads: Link
to the promenades , each of which begins with the call, â A pied ....â They are carefully planned, but need a word of warning. The abiding Parisian concern about usable space and Gallic precision dictates that there is no skipping of street numbers for buildingsâ32 is followed by 34 which is followed by 36 ad ultimatum with many a bis and 1/2 thrown in for good measure. Of course there are pairs and impairs sides of the street which seem consistent within an avenue, but not always uniformly north and south or east and west.
And donât expect the pairs to bear any relationship in number to the impairs ânumber 35 is seldom opposite 34 on the other sideof the street, a disheartening fact at the end of a long tour à pied when the traveller standing at 56 is directed to an architectural curiosity at 59 which turns out to be several hundred yards away. The street names themselves can be quite confusing: there is ârue Condorcetâ and âCité Condorcet,â ârue Chaptal,â and âCité Chaptal,â to say nothing of large numbers of âImpassesâ and âpassagesâ which divert the earnest seeker into blind or confusing alleys.
To take you through a promenade as described in an arrondissement volume, I would choose the 9th which offers beauty, variety, and richness of tradition. It lies behind the Opera, which it encompasses (illustrated in the volume by a beautiful cross-section of the building), and includes the Gare St-Lazare, the incomparable churches of the Trinité and Notre-Dame de Lorettes, stretching to the Place Pigalle and the Boulevard Montmartre. I âcoveredâ it in four days and, as I open the volume again, I feel that I barely touched its luminous quality.
The promenades are themselves mercifully subdivided for practical exploration. In the case of the IXe, there are six such walks. One of them is called âla rue Blanche to the Place St-Georgesâ which I would like here to revisit because I think that this sub- promenade helps disclose the secret of the cityâs beauty most dramatically.
P arisians affectionately call it the Rallye Transparisien, but we call it the Paris scavenger hunt. What youâre looking for are one or all of 135 bronze discs (about five inches in diameter, with raised letters reading âArago,â and two small inlaid letters, N and S, indicating north and south) imbedded in streets, sidewalks, courtyards, and gardens. Playing connect the dots, these discs form a line called the Paris Meridian that runs from the southern to the northern edges of the city. Extending this imaginary line beyond the city limits around the world splits the earth into two equal halves: a meridian. Parisians with lots of time on their hands proudly boast having located all 135 discs. Others, less in the know, scratch their heads in wonder every time they stumble across one .
â Paris Notes
We begin at the Church of Ste-Trinité where la rue Blanche originates. The Church was built during the Second Empire on a spectacular intersection which is now being beautified into an even lovelier garden square. Ste-Trinité reflects what one might call the French dilemma or, more generously, the French charmâit is so carried away by its own aesthetic that it may have forgotten its original religious function. It combines the qualities of a grand Salon, a stately Chambre and a concert hall within the space and context of a church which is itself half-Gothic and half-Renaissance. I hesitate to call the event serendipitous, but I attended a funeral there on my promenade which gave the church the opportunity to manifest one of its few continuing functions in modern French society.
G autier said that the Paris of his youth had become unrecognisable. When I walk down from Passy towards the Seine, I sometimes wonder where I am and whether I have not been dreaming. My sole consolation in disaster lies in the depths of
And donât expect the pairs to bear any relationship in number to the impairs ânumber 35 is seldom opposite 34 on the other sideof the street, a disheartening fact at the end of a long tour à pied when the traveller standing at 56 is directed to an architectural curiosity at 59 which turns out to be several hundred yards away. The street names themselves can be quite confusing: there is ârue Condorcetâ and âCité Condorcet,â ârue Chaptal,â and âCité Chaptal,â to say nothing of large numbers of âImpassesâ and âpassagesâ which divert the earnest seeker into blind or confusing alleys.
To take you through a promenade as described in an arrondissement volume, I would choose the 9th which offers beauty, variety, and richness of tradition. It lies behind the Opera, which it encompasses (illustrated in the volume by a beautiful cross-section of the building), and includes the Gare St-Lazare, the incomparable churches of the Trinité and Notre-Dame de Lorettes, stretching to the Place Pigalle and the Boulevard Montmartre. I âcoveredâ it in four days and, as I open the volume again, I feel that I barely touched its luminous quality.
The promenades are themselves mercifully subdivided for practical exploration. In the case of the IXe, there are six such walks. One of them is called âla rue Blanche to the Place St-Georgesâ which I would like here to revisit because I think that this sub- promenade helps disclose the secret of the cityâs beauty most dramatically.
P arisians affectionately call it the Rallye Transparisien, but we call it the Paris scavenger hunt. What youâre looking for are one or all of 135 bronze discs (about five inches in diameter, with raised letters reading âArago,â and two small inlaid letters, N and S, indicating north and south) imbedded in streets, sidewalks, courtyards, and gardens. Playing connect the dots, these discs form a line called the Paris Meridian that runs from the southern to the northern edges of the city. Extending this imaginary line beyond the city limits around the world splits the earth into two equal halves: a meridian. Parisians with lots of time on their hands proudly boast having located all 135 discs. Others, less in the know, scratch their heads in wonder every time they stumble across one .
â Paris Notes
We begin at the Church of Ste-Trinité where la rue Blanche originates. The Church was built during the Second Empire on a spectacular intersection which is now being beautified into an even lovelier garden square. Ste-Trinité reflects what one might call the French dilemma or, more generously, the French charmâit is so carried away by its own aesthetic that it may have forgotten its original religious function. It combines the qualities of a grand Salon, a stately Chambre and a concert hall within the space and context of a church which is itself half-Gothic and half-Renaissance. I hesitate to call the event serendipitous, but I attended a funeral there on my promenade which gave the church the opportunity to manifest one of its few continuing functions in modern French society.
G autier said that the Paris of his youth had become unrecognisable. When I walk down from Passy towards the Seine, I sometimes wonder where I am and whether I have not been dreaming. My sole consolation in disaster lies in the depths of
Similar Books
