Plastic Bags

The city of Manhattan Beach outlawed plastic bags last year.  I think this is a great move.  We are all lazy and want new, disposable bags every time we shop.  Now, I have my stash of reusable bags in the trunk of my car.  Most of these bags are from France.  The French bags are bigger and more heavy duty.  I have one bag that has little holders in the side.  These are for wine bottles, of course.  I guess they could also be used for things like juice or olive oil.  They are very handy.

I even carry around a nylon bag in my purse. It folds and I can fit it into any purse.  I carry it with me all the time. 

I could mention the environment here, but the act of not using plastic bags needs to be extended to all things plastic including water bottles, food packaging and everything else.  I think that the plastic bag ban is a bandaid at best.  

I had no idea that plastic bags aren't given out freely in Paris.  Normally I bring my cart and use it to transport food from the grocery store.  I haven't used a plastic bag in a long time. 

I had a few spare moments yesterday, I dashed into the Monoprix at La Motte Piquet-Grenelle.  It is huge.  I needed a lot of things but I'd never been in the store before so I walked around, aimlessly looking at things for awhile.  They already have huge chocolate displays for Christmas. 

I had an appointment after this trip so I couldn't buy anything perishable, but I found some things in the housewares area that are unique, so I put them in my cart.  As I checked out, the checker said, "C'est fragile..." which is understood in any language, I was buying glass.  I agreed with her, not realizing that she wasn't going to do anything to help me wrap the fragile items up.  Finally she asked me if I wanted a plastic bag, I said yes.  She replied that they cost 3 centimes each and I would need a lot of them. 

So, I refused the bags.  I paid.  All the glassware was at the end of the runner and another woman/customer was shoving me toward the front door of the store.  I used to panic in these situations but I've learned to push back. I took my time and thought.  My solution was across the street -- the metro!  I put all the glassware carefully in my bag and entered the metro.  Inside, they have stands with free newspapers -- so I grabbed about 5 "A Nous Paris" and about 10 "Direct Matin" and threw those in the bag too.  I walked to the seats to wait for the train.  The sign said 7 minutes, plenty of time. 

Like an experienced bag-lady, I took the newspapers and carefully wrapped each item in the free papers, placed them in the bag and had time to spare.  Everything made it home without incident.

I guess I don't need plastic bags after all.  But my recycling is full of throw away newspapers this morning.

La Geode

We've been waiting for the IMAX film, "To The Arctic" (Arctique in French) to come to Paris.  Ted's company produced the film and he is very proud of it.

It finally appeared in the "nouveau films" section of Pariscope this week.  It is only in one IMAX theatre in Paris and in fact, there is only one IMAX theatre in Paris.  Off we went, map in hand, as we had never been to the 19th arrondisement. 

La Geode is part of the Parc de la Villette, on the outskirts of Paris.  When we got off the metro, we thought we'd landed in a different country, at least a different city.  Huge piles of trash, vendors selling rotten looking grilled corn, obvious drug addicts were everywhere.  A few other indolent looking people, many wearing plastic sandals were hanging out.  We hoped to get into the theatre quickly. 

Up and down the street we went, looking for the address.  We asked 4 different people, no one seemed to know.  We didn't think that the Geode theatre was the same thing as that huge silver ball in the distance called the Geode.  We thought it was part of some science experiment. 

Eventually we found two security guards.  They didn't want to talk to us, help us.  They were too busy enjoying their afternoon ice cream sitting on a bench in the shade.  We persisted.  One guy finally told us that our geode (the theatre) and that silver ball in the distance were one and the same.  Now, how do we get there?  The entire area was fenced off, under construction.  I was glad it wasn't dark.  

We hiked it out, had to go up and down lots of stairs, the place seemed deserted.  We went in.

No line at the ticket counter.  We'd been walking around the rundown, scary neighborhood for 45 minutes and the movie was scheduled to start in about 5 minutes.  We bought the tickets and they told us to get in a line which we saw in the distance in the dark.  A Disneyland-esque line emerged.   There were about 100 people in the line.  Finally they let us in.  We followed the others through a hallway, up an escalator, more stairs into a room that was dark with no handrails and a large drop on one side.  There was a woman standing there to make sure we didn't take a wrong turn.

Up a steep set of stairs with no handrail.   Really, really steep. Being afraid of heights, I made us sit in the first reasonable set of seats, not too far up. 

The lights dimmed more and blasts of light and sound came from everywhere.  I wished I had a seat belt, my entire brain was on fire trying to figure out which end was up.  Somehow the laws of gravity worked in my favor and I stayed in my seat.  The real movie, Arctique finally came on, it was spectacular. 

On the way out, we got to see the control room for the film.  IMAX films require a lot of equipment and skilled operators.  It was quite an experience, including the metro ride to and from the 19th, which took an hour each way.

Bad Behavior At The Tennis Club

Tennis Club du 16eme before the courts were covered.

We played tennis this morning at the tennis club.

It's been raining a lot so we're happy that all the courts are covered.

The club has three courts that, when covered, are all in one big bubble (bulle).  Unfortunately, the other two courts were filled with men who were screaming and being somewhat obnoxious, like screaming "merde" and even a couple of assorted "shits"  every time they missed a shot (which was all the time).  Finally we all gave each other enough dirty looks and a few prolonged stare-downs and the guys quieted down. 

Funny, but I think that in the US, you'd need to have an exchange of words to accomplish the desired result.  In France, even though they were acting badly, they must have known it and we didn't have to exchange verbal blows.

It was still a stressful morning and I'm sure that these men will forget all about today and will annoy many other players during the next six months.  Then, the courts will be opened up and the screams will compete with the noise from the Peripherique.  

The Epitome of "Cool"

If you look closely, he's sitting right next to a cigarette butt. 

I think that this is the best cafe dog in Paris.  He works/lives at the Cafe Conti on rue de Buci.  I've been watching him guard his owner's place for years.

It is a very crowded area, but he doesn't budge, people have to walk around him.  As you can see, it took two shots to get his face.

I think he is a Cairn Terrier.

 I don't know his name.

Soutine

The L'Orangerie is hosting an excellent exhibition about Soutine.  It is well worth the wait in line, even in the rain.  Even though there were crowds to get into the museum, this exhibition wasn't what everyone wanted to see.

The big attraction is the museum's permanent collection of Monet's waterlilies which are housed in two large round rooms.  They are beautiful.  I read that Monet chose the setting and designed the rooms to provide an area of peace where people could spend time looking at the paintings.  Yesterday's crowd was so loud that the guard in the room kept having to tell the group to be quiet.  Many people were also taking photos with their cameras which is not allowed.   The only way you could remember these paintings in their environment is if you took a video of the 360 degrees of these rooms.

Pumpkins To Enjoy

These beauties were just hanging out in the patch at the L'Abbaye.  I really wanted to ask if I could have one to take home with me.  I didn't think the nuns would understand.  Since I'd already asked a fair amount of dumb questions (like where is the trash...)  I thought it was better if I refrained from asking.

So, the pumpkins stayed in the patch and I returned to Paris with no pumpkins. 

These pumpkins are HUGE.  Each one probably weighs 10-15 pounds.  I don't know why they are different colors, perhaps they are slightly different. 

One thing I do know -- these beauties will never have the fate of most American pumpkins -- decorations.  They are food.  More than likely, they will end up in soup along with the leeks, the cauliflower the carrots and the potatoes.

More Lost In The Translation(s)

I made two "betises" (stupid, silly things) errors in French in the last few days.  Everyone laughs when they hear what happened and I've told this story several times. 

The first one was mistaking the word "cendrier" (ashtray) for the word "sanglier" (wild boar or hog). 

These two words really sound the same.  The context was that a woman stole an ashtray from a hotel and put it in her suitcase but the hotel found out and searched everyone's suitcases.  Since I heard that she stole a wild boar not an ashtray I listened for the end of the story and was not satisfied.  How big was the suitcase, did the sanglier die...  I was very confused and no one else asked any questions, so I had to ask him to clarify the story and when they found out that I heard "sanglier" not "cendrier" they all went into hysterics.  At my expense, of course.

The second was when I pulled out my lipstick to put it on and someone asked what I was doing, I replied that I was putting on my... I didn't know the word for lipstick in French so I said "lipstick" in English.  Another roar of laughter from the French... they thought I said "lifting" as in facelift.  No idea how a little tube of pink stuff could work such miracles.  

Detente is a relative thing in France

The relaxation area is designated

Hmmm, this doesn't look very relaxing to me

I guess I'll have to get over it

The Club Med Gym on rue de Rennes is probably considered nice by French standards.  It's certainly as expensive as the Spectrum in Manhattan Beach.  Besides the price the two places do not resemble each other.

After my workout, I always go to the "Salle de detente" for women which is located next to the locker room.  These are pictures of the space.  The sign says, Shhh! This is a place for relaxing.  But, the hard floor, the weird wooden bars on the wall and the equipment on the floor make me think this is just another spot to work out.  

But, I resist.  I grab a blue plastic mat, put my towel over it since I'm sure it hasn't ever been cleaned and do my stretches.  No one else is ever in this room.  So, I guess in that way it's relaxing.

Road Trip

The Oyster Market at Cancale

All the people staying at the monastery were astonished that we didn't have a car.

We'd considered renting a car but thought that the peace of a few days in one spot would be nice.  We weren't threatened by being stranded, it was a good exercise in enjoying one place.

Days were spent beach combing, walking through the farm, walking into town.

On Friday morning some people we'd met offered to take us to a nearby town for a visit.  We agreed.  We didn't know anything about them, didn't even know their names. 

We met at the appointed time and place and walked to a very small old car.  The man started the car, we drove off, squished in the backseat sitting on an old blanket.  We had no idea where we were going, but they told us that it was a town called Cancale near St Malo.  It is famous for oysters.

Since I'm allergic to oysters I wasn't overly excited, but figured that between an afternoon of speaking french and a drive in the country side, I'd enjoy myself.

We arrived at Cancale and the couple jumped out of the car and headed down the path.  They came back a couple of minutes later and handed us the key to their car, "in case it rains before we come back..."

The situation -- people that we don't know at all, we don't even know their names have taken pity on us because they think we're stranded and have taken us on a road trip.  Now, they've given us the key to their car.   This is not normal (in our universe) but we accepted the key and again they raced off.

We stumbled down the walkway by the ocean looking out to sea.  We finally found the market where the oyster men (oyster people...) bring in the day's catch to sell.  They had blue and white striped tents on a cement slab near the port.  Terry bought some oysters and ate them on a bench.  Then we hiked back to the car.  We decided to introduce ourselves when we returned.  I took one of my cards and wrote our names and a nice note on the card.  We got back to the car about the same time that they did and we gave them the card and had formal introductions.  Their names were Liliane and Gilbert and they were from the Charantes-Maritimes.

We drove away, visited a few more spots before returning to the monastery in time for a quick shower and dinner with the group.