Trip Report Paris, Avignon, Lyon, Turin, Genoa, Reggio Emilia, Venice 2015
Aug 17th, 2015, 09:50 AM
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Trip Report Paris, Avignon, Lyon, Turin, Genoa, Reggio Emilia, Venice 2015
Paris, six nights, Avignon four nights, Lyon two nights, Turin three nights, Genoa three nights, Reggio Emilia three nights, and then Venice for five weeks. An apartment in Paris and in Venice, otherwise hotels.
So, Paris. We arrived after a while, 14 hours Melbourne to Dubai, three hours on the ground in the Dubai airport shopping mall, and then seven hours to Paris, CDG. All pretty smooth, taxi to the Marais, five floors to climb to our apartment, and we are home. I was thinking of the Led Zeppelin song, “Stairway to Heaven” as we climbed with our 35 odd kilos of luggage. We are staying here: http://www.parisautrement.com/en/app.../179/5eme-ciel (Ciel means Heaven, I'm told, so it's not quite seventh heaven. Thank God.)
I can never pass through Dubai without coming to like it less and less. Maybe it’s the “Arab Street” architecture that I dislike, the way that integrity in design, some sort of intellectual relationship, is purely subsumed into just a massive cliché. It’s as though the Alhambra or Hagia Sofia in Constantinople are just scaled up by a factor of ten. Or maybe as though an author would think that their words had more substance if printed in bold, 30-point font.
Paris. City of Light. And I did wish that the lights would go out last night, being a trifle jet lagged. But the mornings are quiet, broken by the mooing of doves. Our apartment is pretty traditional, a garret under the slate roof, so at last I’m a writer in a garret. Is that some sort of status? There is an entry off the street, that once would have a concierge, a lady knowing everyone and everything, hating everybody and everything, a character that might have cropped up in a Guy de Maupassant novel. A lady wondering whether to guard the door, or take her knitting down to the Place de la Concorde, and watch an amputation or two.
She’s been replaced by a numbered key pad, most efficient, and the apartment managers have been really good to deal with too. Efficient, good communications, systems that work.
So, Paris. We arrived after a while, 14 hours Melbourne to Dubai, three hours on the ground in the Dubai airport shopping mall, and then seven hours to Paris, CDG. All pretty smooth, taxi to the Marais, five floors to climb to our apartment, and we are home. I was thinking of the Led Zeppelin song, “Stairway to Heaven” as we climbed with our 35 odd kilos of luggage. We are staying here: http://www.parisautrement.com/en/app.../179/5eme-ciel (Ciel means Heaven, I'm told, so it's not quite seventh heaven. Thank God.)
I can never pass through Dubai without coming to like it less and less. Maybe it’s the “Arab Street” architecture that I dislike, the way that integrity in design, some sort of intellectual relationship, is purely subsumed into just a massive cliché. It’s as though the Alhambra or Hagia Sofia in Constantinople are just scaled up by a factor of ten. Or maybe as though an author would think that their words had more substance if printed in bold, 30-point font.
Paris. City of Light. And I did wish that the lights would go out last night, being a trifle jet lagged. But the mornings are quiet, broken by the mooing of doves. Our apartment is pretty traditional, a garret under the slate roof, so at last I’m a writer in a garret. Is that some sort of status? There is an entry off the street, that once would have a concierge, a lady knowing everyone and everything, hating everybody and everything, a character that might have cropped up in a Guy de Maupassant novel. A lady wondering whether to guard the door, or take her knitting down to the Place de la Concorde, and watch an amputation or two.
She’s been replaced by a numbered key pad, most efficient, and the apartment managers have been really good to deal with too. Efficient, good communications, systems that work.
Aug 17th, 2015, 12:27 PM
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Hope you brought a sweater for Italy! The heat has broken with some very breezy breezes. If it doesn't return, your stay in Reggio nell'Emilia should be delightful.
I imagine even French doves talk through their noses, but I still find it hard to imagine them mooing and not cooing. (Perhaps it was a snoring tourist in another room?)
I don't miss Mme. Lefarge.
Have a swell trip!
I imagine even French doves talk through their noses, but I still find it hard to imagine them mooing and not cooing. (Perhaps it was a snoring tourist in another room?)
I don't miss Mme. Lefarge.
Have a swell trip!
Aug 17th, 2015, 01:37 PM
#4
yes, the mooing doves; to be followed by lowing pigeons perhaps? reminds me of the children's poem that starts “Quack!” said the billy-goat. “Oink!” said the hen. “Miaow!” said the little chick running in the pen" and so on an so forth.
Peter-I've yet to go to Dubai and from what you've said, I'll try to keep it that way.
looking forward to the rest of your trip almost as much as you are!
Peter-I've yet to go to Dubai and from what you've said, I'll try to keep it that way.
looking forward to the rest of your trip almost as much as you are!
Aug 17th, 2015, 02:00 PM
#5
Surviving our long haul flights is a challenge, isn't it? We are also flying Emirates next year so a 13.5 hr first leg for us. Not staying in Dubai either.
Really looking forward to your journey, you wrote a wonderful piece on the castle in Verona that I have kept.
Happy travels.
Really looking forward to your journey, you wrote a wonderful piece on the castle in Verona that I have kept.
Happy travels.
Aug 18th, 2015, 11:01 AM
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There are a few myths or cliches about Paris.
Accordion music is used in films to indicate that, hey, we’re shooting in Paris. Haven’t heard a single bar of accordion music. For which one is thankful.
Bread sticks, aka baguettes. Are always pictured in a basket on a bicycle. Have not seen that yet, nor had the smell of freshly baked baguettes drifting across my nostrils.
Gauloise cigarette smoke. Nope, haven’t caught a whiff. Smelled a bit of dope, though.
The Eiffel tower is always portrayed as looming over Paris. It’s interesting how rarely one sees the tower. And it’s huge. Interesting structure, actually a very light weight structure, most of the steel members are thin, but there are a lot of them. Makes the design stunningly complicated, but saves money on material. Makes maintenance a nightmare, but who cares – the tower was always meant to be temporary.
OK, now for some realities. We’ve spent some time, spread over a couple of days, on a hop-on, hop-off bus. A good way to get a handle on a city that we don’t know at all. I don’t think we really had any idea of just how big Paris is – you can’t really get that from looking at maps, and certainly we’ve done a lot of walking.
Interesting things, in no particular order. The Printemps department store, celebrating 150 years. Really worthwhile going to the café on the top floor, as it gives a great view of Paris. Such elegance, and the whole Boul. Haussmann is quite something.
The Pompidou centre. We have not been in, but already I love it. Controversial when built, the structure looking like an organic form turned inside out, an interesting topographical exercise. The structure is made of circular members, jointed by hinges, just like, say, the knuckles in your hand, or your anterior crucial lig, holding your knee together. So the structure looks likes bones. Attach organs to the bones, services ducts, ventilation shafts, lifts like muscles, cable trays like nerves, storm drains, sewer drains, potable water, gas, you name it. Pompidou looks like an inside out person.
Buildings. There is an amazing continuity of form, particularly if you can see buildings from a higher elevation, like the Printemps roof. The line of the eaves is almost uniform, roofs with identical pitch and form. Interesting, and I suppose not unexpected given the explosion of building works in Paris during the Second Empire, the 1800’s. Kilometres of streets with buildings of similar style and dimensions. In older areas – the Marais being an older area, where we are staying – the same uniformity is not evident. I think our building dates from the early 1700’s, sandstone foundations, heavy timbers, fun to see.
Boulevards that follow the line of the original wall surrounding Paris. That wall was a pretty minor affair, about 3.5 metres tall, no defence at all. But it surely defended the state revenues, as the gates were customs collection posts. “Nothing to declare” won’t cut it when the state needs revenue. The wall was hated by Parisiens.
You could have a very happy time here without visiting any of the big ticket sights. We intend visiting the Musee d’Orsay to see Manet’s work. But that might be the only gallery that sees us.
Accordion music is used in films to indicate that, hey, we’re shooting in Paris. Haven’t heard a single bar of accordion music. For which one is thankful.
Bread sticks, aka baguettes. Are always pictured in a basket on a bicycle. Have not seen that yet, nor had the smell of freshly baked baguettes drifting across my nostrils.
Gauloise cigarette smoke. Nope, haven’t caught a whiff. Smelled a bit of dope, though.
The Eiffel tower is always portrayed as looming over Paris. It’s interesting how rarely one sees the tower. And it’s huge. Interesting structure, actually a very light weight structure, most of the steel members are thin, but there are a lot of them. Makes the design stunningly complicated, but saves money on material. Makes maintenance a nightmare, but who cares – the tower was always meant to be temporary.
OK, now for some realities. We’ve spent some time, spread over a couple of days, on a hop-on, hop-off bus. A good way to get a handle on a city that we don’t know at all. I don’t think we really had any idea of just how big Paris is – you can’t really get that from looking at maps, and certainly we’ve done a lot of walking.
Interesting things, in no particular order. The Printemps department store, celebrating 150 years. Really worthwhile going to the café on the top floor, as it gives a great view of Paris. Such elegance, and the whole Boul. Haussmann is quite something.
The Pompidou centre. We have not been in, but already I love it. Controversial when built, the structure looking like an organic form turned inside out, an interesting topographical exercise. The structure is made of circular members, jointed by hinges, just like, say, the knuckles in your hand, or your anterior crucial lig, holding your knee together. So the structure looks likes bones. Attach organs to the bones, services ducts, ventilation shafts, lifts like muscles, cable trays like nerves, storm drains, sewer drains, potable water, gas, you name it. Pompidou looks like an inside out person.
Buildings. There is an amazing continuity of form, particularly if you can see buildings from a higher elevation, like the Printemps roof. The line of the eaves is almost uniform, roofs with identical pitch and form. Interesting, and I suppose not unexpected given the explosion of building works in Paris during the Second Empire, the 1800’s. Kilometres of streets with buildings of similar style and dimensions. In older areas – the Marais being an older area, where we are staying – the same uniformity is not evident. I think our building dates from the early 1700’s, sandstone foundations, heavy timbers, fun to see.
Boulevards that follow the line of the original wall surrounding Paris. That wall was a pretty minor affair, about 3.5 metres tall, no defence at all. But it surely defended the state revenues, as the gates were customs collection posts. “Nothing to declare” won’t cut it when the state needs revenue. The wall was hated by Parisiens.
You could have a very happy time here without visiting any of the big ticket sights. We intend visiting the Musee d’Orsay to see Manet’s work. But that might be the only gallery that sees us.
Aug 18th, 2015, 04:33 PM
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The Pompidou centre's architect is from Genoa. The inside-out form was deliberate. Apparently the building has lost its power to shock, but it was truly and deeply shocking in its earliest years. Literally stopped people in its tracks. More visceral than controversial. The Eiffel Tower was controversial. The Pompidou left people speechless.
Renzo Piano recently completed another building in Paris which has been termed "a hidden masterpiece". If you are still in Paris, you might want to go have a look
http://www.nybooks.com/blogs/nyrblog...n-masterpiece/
Renzo Piano recently completed another building in Paris which has been termed "a hidden masterpiece". If you are still in Paris, you might want to go have a look
http://www.nybooks.com/blogs/nyrblog...n-masterpiece/
Aug 18th, 2015, 04:37 PM
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Aug 19th, 2015, 06:49 AM
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When we were first married in the late 70s, DH worked in Paris for a while so we got to see the Pompidou Centre when it was first built and yes, it was a bit shocking then.
but then Paris itself was a shock [in a nice way] so its impact was perhaps a little diluted by the assault on our senses from the rest of the city.
our favourite place in Paris then was the Jeu de Paume [which for those whose memories don't stretch back that far, is where the Impressionists were exhibited before they opened the Musee D'Orsay]. The Pompidou Centre didn't do much for me then, and frankly, it doesn't do much for me now.
but then Paris itself was a shock [in a nice way] so its impact was perhaps a little diluted by the assault on our senses from the rest of the city.
our favourite place in Paris then was the Jeu de Paume [which for those whose memories don't stretch back that far, is where the Impressionists were exhibited before they opened the Musee D'Orsay]. The Pompidou Centre didn't do much for me then, and frankly, it doesn't do much for me now.
Aug 20th, 2015, 07:09 AM
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We climbed up to Sacre-Coeur, via the Pompidou centre exterior and Rue Montorgueil. Good to have a better look at the exo-skeleton of the Pompidou Centre, and I rather like it. Given that so much of Paris looks to have been designed by the same architect, at least in the 19th Century, a bit of confrontation is welcome. I do like buildings that make me stop and think, wondering what the archi was trying to say. I think that many Parisians, over the last 40 years, have also stopped, and thought “that building is absolute crud”. Can’t please everyone, and Eiffel’s tower was not universally liked either.
Rue Montorgueil is fun, “Food Street”. About half a kilometre of shops selling every sort of food that one can imagine. Hams, cheese, fish, bread, vegetables, you name it. Figs are in season, and I’m looking forward to doing figs stuffed with gorgonzola, wrapped in prosciutto once we have an oven.
Interesting as one climbs through Montmarte, the atmosphere becomes more gritty, seemingly more working class, more graffiti, more people standing around, looking a bit aimless. Wind the clock back 120 years, and it would have been a pretty tough beat for the gendarmes.
Climbed further up, to the Place du Tetre, where something of a Potemkin Village is under construction, a film set for a movie that looks as though it will be set some time in 1945. A bit of fun to walk through a movie set, looking at posters and ancient proclamations, French and American flags fluttering (after all, Freedom Fries are a recent invention). I was hoping to see CDG stroll onto the set, preceded by his nose, taking all credit for the May 4th 1945 surrender. They will have to take care that the green neon cross, signalling a pharmacy, remains out of shot.
I think I’ve got problems with the Basilica of the Sacre-Coeur. Commissioned in 1873, foundation stone laid in 1875, construction completed in 1914, consecrated in 1919. One of the very few cathedrals to be completed in the 20th Century, leaving aside the mega-churches in the USA, which can more properly be described as stadiums for competitive religion.
The State commissioned Sacre-Couer allegedly as a memorial to some 58,000 French soldiers who fell in the Franco-Prussian war, a profound defeat for the French. Throw into the mix, the Commune of 1870/71, an uprising centred in Montmarte, and the scene is set for some anxious times. So perhaps a big building, sitting right on top of Montmarte might demonstrate to those pesky communards that they have lost the plot, and that a “Return to Jesus” moment was in order. Particularly as the communards had killed the Archbishop of Paris.
So, for me, there is little feeling of holiness in the Basilica, whatever feeling of faith being overtaken by messages that are essentially political. It feels like a cookie cutter attempt at a Basilica, a standard set of side altars, stone vaulting that has been cut with steam powered diamond saws, fourteen stations of the Cross, stained glass that it looks like it comes from the Walmart stained glass section. It just does not move me, unlike many other churches. Or maybe it is the architecture – my Eyewitness guide bills it as Romano-Byzantine – which makes it look synthetic. Byzantium is a fair few degrees of longitude west of Paris, and the Moorish influence for me does not work. The ovoidal domes look more like under-decorated Faberge eggs, the building neither fish nor fowl, church or mosque. A micro Hagia Sofia plonked on top of Paris. Hard to believe that the Corb was born some ten years or so after construction started on Sacre-Coeur. I’m sure that many people will disagree profoundly with what I think of Sacre-Coeur, and will post on here; I welcome the comments and discussion.
But the genesis of the Sacre-Coeur brought me to thinking – What IS it with the Parisians that they are so into uprisings, storming the Bastille, 1968 student riots (that saw then President CDG taking refuge at a military base in Deutschland), and a host of other uprisings. An uneasy relationship between people in power and the proletariat, or is it just a hangover from the “let them eat cake” comment. Or is it a hangover from the fact that the Republic was created by civil insurrection, and the habit dies hard. I don’t know. But the residents of Montmarte are still somewhat bolshie of temperament, I believe.
Rue Montorgueil is fun, “Food Street”. About half a kilometre of shops selling every sort of food that one can imagine. Hams, cheese, fish, bread, vegetables, you name it. Figs are in season, and I’m looking forward to doing figs stuffed with gorgonzola, wrapped in prosciutto once we have an oven.
Interesting as one climbs through Montmarte, the atmosphere becomes more gritty, seemingly more working class, more graffiti, more people standing around, looking a bit aimless. Wind the clock back 120 years, and it would have been a pretty tough beat for the gendarmes.
Climbed further up, to the Place du Tetre, where something of a Potemkin Village is under construction, a film set for a movie that looks as though it will be set some time in 1945. A bit of fun to walk through a movie set, looking at posters and ancient proclamations, French and American flags fluttering (after all, Freedom Fries are a recent invention). I was hoping to see CDG stroll onto the set, preceded by his nose, taking all credit for the May 4th 1945 surrender. They will have to take care that the green neon cross, signalling a pharmacy, remains out of shot.
I think I’ve got problems with the Basilica of the Sacre-Coeur. Commissioned in 1873, foundation stone laid in 1875, construction completed in 1914, consecrated in 1919. One of the very few cathedrals to be completed in the 20th Century, leaving aside the mega-churches in the USA, which can more properly be described as stadiums for competitive religion.
The State commissioned Sacre-Couer allegedly as a memorial to some 58,000 French soldiers who fell in the Franco-Prussian war, a profound defeat for the French. Throw into the mix, the Commune of 1870/71, an uprising centred in Montmarte, and the scene is set for some anxious times. So perhaps a big building, sitting right on top of Montmarte might demonstrate to those pesky communards that they have lost the plot, and that a “Return to Jesus” moment was in order. Particularly as the communards had killed the Archbishop of Paris.
So, for me, there is little feeling of holiness in the Basilica, whatever feeling of faith being overtaken by messages that are essentially political. It feels like a cookie cutter attempt at a Basilica, a standard set of side altars, stone vaulting that has been cut with steam powered diamond saws, fourteen stations of the Cross, stained glass that it looks like it comes from the Walmart stained glass section. It just does not move me, unlike many other churches. Or maybe it is the architecture – my Eyewitness guide bills it as Romano-Byzantine – which makes it look synthetic. Byzantium is a fair few degrees of longitude west of Paris, and the Moorish influence for me does not work. The ovoidal domes look more like under-decorated Faberge eggs, the building neither fish nor fowl, church or mosque. A micro Hagia Sofia plonked on top of Paris. Hard to believe that the Corb was born some ten years or so after construction started on Sacre-Coeur. I’m sure that many people will disagree profoundly with what I think of Sacre-Coeur, and will post on here; I welcome the comments and discussion.
But the genesis of the Sacre-Coeur brought me to thinking – What IS it with the Parisians that they are so into uprisings, storming the Bastille, 1968 student riots (that saw then President CDG taking refuge at a military base in Deutschland), and a host of other uprisings. An uneasy relationship between people in power and the proletariat, or is it just a hangover from the “let them eat cake” comment. Or is it a hangover from the fact that the Republic was created by civil insurrection, and the habit dies hard. I don’t know. But the residents of Montmarte are still somewhat bolshie of temperament, I believe.
Aug 20th, 2015, 09:12 AM
#17
I’m sure that many people will disagree profoundly with what I think of Sacre-Coeur, and will post on here; I welcome the comments and discussion.>>
Despite the number of visits that I've made to Paris over the years it was only a relatively short time ago that I first stepped inside Sacre Coeur and undoubtedly my view was coloured by the fact that there was a sung service going on which was very beautiful. So though the architecture may not be up to the standards expected by some, I was still impressed by the atmosphere. It was also memorable for the fact that DH had previously been there for the one and only time about 50 years before on a school trip so he had the fun of trying to remember what had changed, and telling me what he'd got up to all those years ago.
So despite the fact that some may view it as an excrescence, I like it.
Despite the number of visits that I've made to Paris over the years it was only a relatively short time ago that I first stepped inside Sacre Coeur and undoubtedly my view was coloured by the fact that there was a sung service going on which was very beautiful. So though the architecture may not be up to the standards expected by some, I was still impressed by the atmosphere. It was also memorable for the fact that DH had previously been there for the one and only time about 50 years before on a school trip so he had the fun of trying to remember what had changed, and telling me what he'd got up to all those years ago.
So despite the fact that some may view it as an excrescence, I like it.
Aug 20th, 2015, 11:41 AM
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Hi Peter! As you know I don't normally come here these days, but I'm making an exception for you 
Very interesting insights, as always, and you are staying in a part of Paris I don't know at all.
I've always liked the Pompidou Centre - it's funny that other posters just mention the architect Renzo Piano, whereas in Britain people associate it more with the British member of the team, Richard Rogers! (Like discovering that our Italian students think some bloke called Meucci invented the telephone ) As with Rogers' Lloyd's building in London, I knew it was famous for being 'inside out'; but I'd never thought of it before as like an inside out person - what an intriguing thought, I don't think I'll ever look at it the same way again.
Given your interest in engineering, are you going on the tour of the sewers (if they still do it)?
Very interesting insights, as always, and you are staying in a part of Paris I don't know at all.
I've always liked the Pompidou Centre - it's funny that other posters just mention the architect Renzo Piano, whereas in Britain people associate it more with the British member of the team, Richard Rogers! (Like discovering that our Italian students think some bloke called Meucci invented the telephone
) As with Rogers' Lloyd's building in London, I knew it was famous for being 'inside out'; but I'd never thought of it before as like an inside out person - what an intriguing thought, I don't think I'll ever look at it the same way again. Given your interest in engineering, are you going on the tour of the sewers (if they still do it)?
Aug 20th, 2015, 01:17 PM
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>>funny that other posters just mention the architect Renzo Piano, whereas in Britain people associate it more with the British member of the team, Richard Rogers<<
I don't see anybody but me talking about the the building architects -- which include another Italian unmentioned by you -- Gianfranco Franchin --, but I thought it worth mentioning Piano to Peter since Peter is going GENOVA, where Piano was born and runs the school of architecture at the university.
Now that you mention Rodters, I will say that I don't think much of Rodgers work in subsequent years, and it has nothing to do with his nationality. It wouldn't surprise me to learn that everything imaginative and memorable about "the Beauborg" is owed to the Italians! (Someday Rodgers will live down the Millennium Dome, I guess.)
I don't see anybody but me talking about the the building architects -- which include another Italian unmentioned by you -- Gianfranco Franchin --, but I thought it worth mentioning Piano to Peter since Peter is going GENOVA, where Piano was born and runs the school of architecture at the university.
Now that you mention Rodters, I will say that I don't think much of Rodgers work in subsequent years, and it has nothing to do with his nationality. It wouldn't surprise me to learn that everything imaginative and memorable about "the Beauborg" is owed to the Italians! (Someday Rodgers will live down the Millennium Dome, I guess.)
Aug 20th, 2015, 01:24 PM
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sorry the final "i" dropped out:
Gianfranco Franchini
Also, it is not just Italians who think a Scot did not "invent" the telephone, but rather stole the specs.
http://www.theguardian.com/world/200...leducationnews
Gianfranco Franchini
Also, it is not just Italians who think a Scot did not "invent" the telephone, but rather stole the specs.
http://www.theguardian.com/world/200...leducationnews
