Chancing a 11,000-Mile Round-Trip
in Midwinter 'Welcome to Paris -
1959'
Paris: It's for Old Lovers Too -
Perfect!
eMail from Gordon B. Greb, via the Internet:
Dear Ric -
Chico:- Thursday, 20. January 1998:- We are home!
In my mind's-eye I still have sharp and clear pictures of
Paris - memories played back in Technicolor and
stereophonic sound -even though many days have passed since
we were last there.
That's good, because most of the photos I took came back
blurred; out of focus due to the fact I forgot to adjust
the right camera gizmo. No catastrophe, that! For what we
anticipated would be a troubled trip didn't happen. Having
no satisfactory Kodak prints is all I can complain
about.
Our two-week wintertime trip to Paris and London turned
out perfect. If you encounter the Marquis de Lafayette in
your wanderings about Paris, give him our thanks. Tell him
that we came from America - an elderly pair from the little
city of Chico, California - returning to Gaul for the first
time in many years and we loved it. Cole Porter described
our feelings many years ago - remember the l953 songs of
"Can Can?"
We came, we saw, and were conquered. But the decision to
return to Paris didn't come easy. For several reasons in
advance of taking the trip, it did not seem like a good
idea. While we'd always loved everything we'd heard about
France - its wine, food, songs, art, and beauty - but our
past experiences in Paris had not been good.
We had had a bad experience on our first visit in l959,
but admittedly it was long ago. So the thought of coming to
Paris to celebrate our 47th wedding anniversary on 28.
December seemed to make sense. Last year we had marked the
event in San Francisco at a small European-style hotel and
a wonderful French restaurant. So we thought, "Why not
Paris this time?" Yes, a good idea, but was it a wise
idea?
When Darlene and I encountered Paris 38 years ago we
were young and exuberant and stepped off the airplane
smiling, expecting the charm, beauty, and romance of a
world famous city.
Unfortunately we met disagreeable people: a taxi driver,
who emphatically and loudly gave us the raspberry every
time we said 'Les Etats-Unis,' some diehard Louis XVI poor
losers, who muttered or scrawled on walls, 'Yankee Go
Home,' and fast buck artists - card sharps but not
Toulouse-Lautrec - who handed us counterfeit French francs
in exchange for good American Express travelers checks. Not
a good beginning.
All that changed this time, thanks largely to the fact
we found Metropole Paris on the Web and when we wrote you
suggested we try Café Procope, the oldest restaurant
in Paris - more than 311 years old - for our anniversary.
You said that in olden times this place gave culinary
satisfaction to the likes of those from l'Amerique such as
Adams, Jefferson, Franklin, Emerson, Holmes, and
Longfellow. You suggested it for our anniversary and told
us how to get there.
Hurrying with friends from London on Sunday night and
moving quickly because it was approaching eight o'clock,
Darlene and I walked briskly in the cold night air from the
métro at Odéon, and in a few minutes passed
under the Christmasy-decorated door of 13. rue de
l'Ancienne-Comédie, in Paris' sixth arrondissement.
Inside, we were directed upstairs.
For Paris, we were a bit early; finding the long
rectangular room half empty when we sat down. But by nine
o'clock the place was full of conversationalists,
discussing great or trivial subjects: who can say?
The hub bub awakened me to the realization that
Café Procope was where French Revolutionists met and
agreed upon the 'Rights of Man,' and Diderot and D'Alembert
decided to publish their monumental 'Encyclopédie.'
Along the walls I could see oil paintings of famous
personages from the 18th and 19th centuries, together with
displays of documents, mementos, and
historical artifacts of all kinds. At the end of the room
and high above us sat a life-sized bust of Benjamin
Franklin, observing us all. Outside the Café
Charbon, Professor Greb and I are caught by surprise.
Result: another blown 'Kodak.'
We and our friends talked about nothing important till
one of us got on to the subject of electronic gadgetry -
problems with an old l995 VCR, an outdated l993 stereo CD
player, and such. Earlier I had complained about how hard I
had to work to maintain my swimming pool.
Suddenly I felt someone staring down my neck. Slowly I
turned my head to look around but all I could see was
Benjamin Franklin, staring down on us. "You spoiled brats!"
I thought he said. "Have you ever sailed four weeks on the
Atlantic in rough seas? Have you tried to read by candle
light? Go to my free public libraries and learn the nature
of real problems of real people!"
Came the food - Coq au Vin for Darlene, and lamb a la
Superb for me! After we looked in vain on the wine list for
a Cahors, we settled on a red from Bergerac.
How could revolutionaries have afforded this? If
aristocrats dined better, no wonder people rose up. Eat
cake! That's it! To be aristocrats, we should eat what they
liked. No, we wanted ice cream, then café au lait -
coffee with cream. Voila! Fin! We're democrats! Maybe even
enlightened republicans?
After that anniversary party in historic surroundings,
Paris continued to charm us, holding back the rain 'till
year's end, and beckoning us outside under clear skies
right up to 31. December.
So Darlene and I spent the time walking the boulevards,
traipsing down side streets, even climbing up the steep
incline to Sacre Coeur. Nothing stopped us old age
pensioners! We looked around at everything, the shops and
cafés, the Seine, the Tour Eiffel, Notre Dame, the
monuments and realized this was a city made for
walkers.
Thus we fell in love all over again. We came home from
Paris happy last week, after chancing this 11,000-mile
round-trip in midwinter, expecting bad weather, rude
people, and terrific expense. We had been worrying for
nothing.
Only good things happened. When Benjamin Franklin
arrived in 1776, he found Parisians wearing 'lightening-rod
hats.' For our anniversary, such protection wasn't
necessary.
Au revoir, Gordon
Gordon B Greb©1998
Paris' Bad-Rep Explained
Dear Professor Greb,
Paris:- Sunday, 25. January 1998:- I don't have
to take a breath of relief about your trip having been a
success; although I always worry when I suggest a
restaurant or some other place to spend money. I just have
not tried them all and have to rely a lot on what people
tell me.
I have lived here a long time and for most of this time
I have been trying to figure out why Paris seems to have
such a bad reputation.
What you told me about your earlier trip, I believe
because it makes sense. I can well imagine how things were
for Parisians in 1959. That was then and it's gone. You can
remember it as it was, but you can't have it again. 'La
Dolce Vita' started the following year.
Today is a different matter, mostly because it is 1998
and not 1959. A lot of changes have been made in 39 years -
nearly two generations. Today's Parisians may be a bit glum
because of the local situation, but this has nothing to do
with visitors to the city - who are warmly welcomed as a
positive addition to the 'local situation,' as you have so
recently learned.
Sorry about the photo in front of the Café
Charbon. I was too ready and you weren't, and the guy
coming out the door startled me into shooting too soon.
Another defect 'Kodak.' Regards, Ric
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