Le Ballon Rouge

The kids and I were mesmerized by our recent viewing of the 1956 French movie, Le Ballon Rouge---and James is convinced that he will be the boy with the red balloon for his next Halloween costume. This beautiful film captures the virtues of friendship, hopefulness, and redemption through the perspective of a six-year-old boy and his playful balloon. James is getting so good with allusions these days (however a-chronological/anachronistic they might be): this film reminded him of the Chihuly glass sculpture at the Joslyn Art Museum; of the Pixar movie, Up; and of "Hopper and Wilson," an illustrated kids book that features a red balloon and a trip to the other side of the world. The palate of this film is gorgeously muted in grays, silvers, and blues---the colors that capture a Parisian setting---and punctuated with bursts of reds, blues, white, and green. This is a movie to which we will return often for inspiration, virtual tourism, and beauty.

Hotel de l'Abbaye

The last time we were in Paris we stayed at the Hotel de l'Abbaye in the seventh (St. Germain) arrondissement. I appreciated the wallpapered interiors, the container-garden courtyard walk-up, the petit-dejeuner with pain au chocolat and jus d'orange pressé, and the friendly people. The nicest thing was that the staff endured my stilted French and played along as I tried to rescue the French language from the recesses of my memory. It always takes a couple days to get it all going again, you know? tu sais? Missing this place just thinking about it!

Le Tour de France

After the debacle of Lance Armstrong's dethroning from his epic seven-time victories in the Tour de France, I had sworn off my love for this July-long bike race. I had been watching the Tour for over a decade, and then between Lance, and Floyd, and Alberto, and even Frank Schleck implicated in various drug scandals, I gave up my July hobby as an act of protest for all of those clean riders (like Cadel Evans, for example) who were denied their yellow fame and glory owing to all of the cheats and frauds out on the pavement. But this year, my brother was in town for the Fourth of July, and Andy convinced/coerced me to watch the Tour yet again, if even for a day. I couldn't help myself. Now I'm full in. Back in the saddle (voyeuristically), just as obsessed as I was a couple of years ago before all of the disillusionment. The riders in the Tour de France are amazing athletes who ride through apocalyptic thunderstorms, navigate icy cobblestone streets, climb beyond-categorization mountains, speed down precipitous declines, consistently put their bodies into the red zone of heartbeat activity, and do so for twenty-plus days on the metaphorical road(s) toward Paris. The strategies, the egos, the teammates left behind (Bradley Wiggins, Team Sky?!), the knock-out sprint finishes, the tumbles, the bruises, the interplay between the domestiques and the GC riders, the announcers' man-love for Fabian Cancellara (AKA Spartacus), the virtual tourism of the beautiful French countryside, the goofy road paraphernalia, and the drama of each stage victory make the Tour de France the most amazing sporting event ever (even surpassing the World Cup, playing today as I write). Vive Le Tour…I hope to see you in person someday soon!

Chantelivre

Chantelivre is the best place to look for kids' books while shopping in Paris. I mistakenly assumed that I could stock up on les livres pour enfants at any regular Parisian bookstore, but as I discovered, their selections were often scant, outdated, or translations of popular English books I could already buy at home or clunky French translations of Spanish or Italian children's literature. As Chantelivre's website states, "à une époque beaucoup de libraires refusent d'avoir un rayon de livres pour enfants qui ne soient pas strictement éducatifs." In other words, French bookstores once refused to offer children's books other than those written for strictly educational purposes (enacting centuries of debate over the proper education of children a la John Locke or Jean-Jacques Rousseau). Chantelivre departs from this outdated paradigm and offers books upon books for little ones and adolescents alike without worry that that which entertains somehow detracts from a suitable educational trajectory.

Chantelivre also boasts a primo location in the Saint-Germaine-des-Prés sixth arrondissement: at 13 Rue de Sèvres, it is in close proximity to the Bon Marche and all of the boutique stores surrounding it. The neighborhood itself may not be the most kid-friendly due to its high-end reputation, but this bookstore competes with its Hermes/Tods/Ferragamo luxury neighbors owing to its impeccable selection, its expert staff, and its beautiful merchandising and airy light-filled space…and it's kid-friendly too. Chantelivre really is a "songbook" as its name suggests!

Musée Rodin

The Musée Rodin is one of my most favorite Parisian destinations: when we travel to Paris, we always spend at least an entire afternoon at this urban chateau and pretend we own the place. The outdoor cafe area is so relaxing and understated, and the gardens, fountains, architecture, views of the  Hôtel des Invalides, and the Rodin sculptures are beautiful and perfectly curated. Plus, the museum is situated at the end of the street of my study-abroad Parisian apartment...le septieme arrondissement est parfait!

Macarons, s'il vous plait

My American friend Liz (who constantly was mistaken dans la rue as a  Parisienne) and I visited Ladurée the day after her red-eye flight into Paris and the day after I hosted my first French dinner party. She was jetlagged and I was reeling from the postprandial exhortations at the Bateau Concorde Atlantique (aka "le bateau bleu"): the pastel macarons were so pretty that they made up for our less-than-pretty states of post-party excitement and jetlagdom. These pretty green boxes of macarons make for perfect cadeaux for friends back home. The flavors are so delicate and light, and the bright colors and refined packaging make them the most quintessential of Parisienne dulces. 

Pompidou Lookout

The view from the balcony of the Pompidou in April. I love the coalescence of the water, the Parisian landscape, the sculptural figures, and the mirror reflections the water and windows capture of the viewer him/herself. Why didn't I notice Richier before this visit?

Paris me manque: Rue de Bourgogne

These are pictures from my study-abroad apartment on the Rue de Bourgogne, 7eme arrondissement, in Paris. I love this street and its restaurants, museums, antique stores, patissiers, butcheries, and other small businesses. Every day when I hurried out my apartment door to head to the Invalides Metro station, I walked by the Moulie floral boutique and watched as the shopkeeper washed, scrubbed, and swept the sidewalk space leading up to his gorgeous store. The arrangements were beyond beautiful and remain incomparable in my floral imagination. The Musee Rodin is in close proximity, as is the Assemblee Nationale, and many excellent restaurants like Tante Marguerite, Le Bistrot du Palais, and Le Lotus Blanc (where my friend Liz and I enjoyed our American Thanksgiving dinner sans turkey).