Christmas Gaga In Paris

Empty terrace means cold weather; customers are inside.

Call For Write-Ins

Paris:- Monday, 20. December 1999:- For all of you brave fans of the weather, I have disturbing news for you. Last Friday it started to rain seriously in Paris. 'Raining seriously' is continuous rain and it is rare here.

In an early version of 'Christmas events,' I had different dates for the start up of the Hôtel de Ville's skating rink and the 'Alpine Village' at Trocadéro. Result: no ice skating at the Hôtel de Ville last Wednesday, and pouring rain on Friday and Saturday.

The weather forecasts being what they are, I was hoping for a bit of peekaboo half-decent weather on one of these two days but they were washouts. The user manual for my camera clearly states it may explode if it is exposed to water, so I have hesitated to risk rainy-day photos - especially of the 'Alpine Village' at Trocadéro.

I also planned some night shots of Paris' holiday illuminations, but I am even less inclined to try these in the rain, in near freezing temperatures. I am disappointed, you are disappointed; but there it is.

I have been on the Champs-Elysées fairly often lately and each time I told myself to come back at night, to get a photo of its light decorations.

Whether raining or not, this may be now impossible. Annie Salmona, who was at the Café Metropole Club some weeks ago, sent me a night shot of the Champs-Elysées that I thought was a pretty good photo until I read her accompanying email.

The Champs-Elysées' original holiday decor involved wrapping the avenue's trees in colored gauze, with electric lights inside. However, this last autumn has been an exceedingly long one, and not all of the leaves had fallen from these trees before they were 'wrapped up.'

Then there were winds. And, as always, there is the ordinary but ceaseless Champs-Elysées traffic, which added a layer of pollution to the gauzy sacks. The city noticed it too - as well as other Metropole readers, plus Annie's sister in Paris - and has changed the decor since I was last there.

So, here is where it is. Annie says her photo shows the Champs-Elysées' decorations in their original state, as she did the shot on the decorations' first night light-up.

On account of the rain I do not know what shape the decorations are in. With today being Monday I have no chance to 'catch up,' unless I add a 'dateless' update during the week. I have been hoisted by my own 'dateline' rule.

Therefore, the photo that open's this week's 'Scene II' - Christmas in Paris page, is by Annie Salmona and it was taken on Sunday, 28. November. I do not know if Annie used a tripod, but I do know she used a 35mm reflex camera - not one of these 'turn-night-to-day' digital jobs.

Yesterday, the winds changed direction, dropping the daily highs below the lows, but clearing the sky of clouds. All of this issue's photos are therefore from before the rain and from after it, except Annie's.

As you walk down streets in Paris that might seem to be lined with bourgeois-type apartment buildings, you might not realize that these respectable bourgeois fronts are hiding artists and artisan's ateliers in their inner courtyards.

This is the case with my building. I have no street door, but enter through a hall wide enough for a car, to a courtyard which is shared by my building and the one next door. On either side stacks of ateliers rise in facing towers, going up five or six flights.

Each time I go into my place on the ground floor, all these big windows overlook me. On Friday I got a chance to look out of one of them, on the fourth floor.

Around lunchtime, I needed a café so I went to Le Bouquet and ran into Dimitri who was impatiently waiting for the cook to do something to a big piece of beef.

I only meet Dimitri in the café, although I know he has one of the ateliers in my building. He restores old picture frames and he knows I've wanted to see this business, so while cooling his hungry heels he decided to invite me to a party in the atelier next to his.

He said the overflow from that party would fill up his place, so it was perfectly okay to invite me. I have bonjoured and bonsoired a lot of people for months without knowing who they are - and I thought this would be a chance to meet some of them.

This was the first party I've been to since February 1998 and I put on a good mood for it. After climbing up to the fourth floor I did not find Dimitri's door so I went in the one that was open.

This turned out to be the party itself, in a high-ceilinged atelier, full of food, drink, music, picture frames and a lot of people I had never seen before.

The hostess had never seen me either before. She came out to the hall with me and knocked on the next door, which she said was Dimitri's. Then she pounded on it. Then she kicked it, pounded on it and shouted, "Dimitri, wake up!" Nothing happened.

Being a busy lady, she gave up fast and invited me to her party and I went in an introduced myself to a lot of people who had never heard of the Internet, let alone the 'Internet Reporter for Paris.'

It was a lovely party. Although there wasn't really enough room to dance, three couples managed to do it. I even waltzed around a bit with Lucle the sculptor because she was the only person there wearing very high-heeled red shoes, which made her the tallest person in the place.