I've been noticing something lately. The elderly people who live in Paris – and trust me, there are a lot; this could be renamed Retirement Community-Sur-Seine, I swear – are pretty smashingly dressed, it must be said. They deck themselves out in heels, suits, ties, dresses, jewels – the works. And the funny thing is, it isn't just the more formal clothing that the American old might wear, which might look fancier, but also looks 50 years old, and often is. No, although dignified and tasteful, I feel like the clothes the aging Parisians wear are not that far removed from what young, stylish Parisians wear. It's nice to see.

Forgive me for talking about the way the old dress themselves, but I've been thinking a lot lately about how new and old intermingle in Paris. This is probably something I've talked about before, but for some reason lately it's really been standing out to me. Of course most of Paris is old, madly old, but it doesn't oppress me the way certain other places have with their cloying sense of history. In fact, I've noticed a sense of novelty in Paris that I didn't necessarily see at first. Yes, the city itself is ancient, but there's always something new and innovative happening. And so many public places have a touch of whimsy that keeps them fresh and interesting. I think it's a good way of dealing with the city's age.

The flux of Paris's sense of long-term time makes a strange contrast to the reality of our stay in Paris, which is drawing quickly to a close. It is hard to imagine the end. So, I won't! Let's do things the Parisian way and celebrate the past, as I relive the glories of the past week and a half.

:: Oh, gentle reader, are you getting sick of me recounting parks and museums? I hope not, because you're in for a long entry if that's the case! The first attraction I visited last week, after a few days in which I had to do schoolwork, was the Musée Picasso in the Marais. This is the gallery in which France's national collection of Picasso works is exhibited. None of the works on display are that famous, but together the collection is amazing -- a complete journey through his many styles and eras, incorporating sculptures and sketches he made and art curios he bought, like his famous masks from Gabon. Anyhow, we all know that Picasso was a genius, so I don't mean to belabor the obvious, but really -- seeing everything he's done is amazing. I read somewhere that he's the most important art figure of the entire twentieth century, and after strolling through this museum I really buy it. He's pretty spectacular.

:: I have really gotten into doing walking tours from my guidebook, or rather, what I hope are more discrete versions of the walking tours from my guidebook. (It's an Eyewitness guide, and whenever I go on one of them I see old rich American couples with the same book, walking my same route. I have no problem with American tourists but I'd rather blend in!) Anyhow, with the book's recommendation I walked around the Canal St-Martin, an old industrial canal that connects northeastern Paris to the Seine. Now it's just a calm green river in miniature, crossed by iron bridges and with tent cities of homeless people lining its banks. I'm a fan of anywhere with water, so I found it beguiling. Also, I didn't know this going in, but it's totally the place where Amélie goes to skip rocks and be sad in the movie! I had a happy little quiver of recognition. I also got to see the locks in action when a river cruise boat came through, and it made me feel like an old man to find it interesting, but it was, watching the lock-keeper open and close the gates and watching the boat rise, like an elevator.
I took one of the tour's side-trips, which involved visiting the Hôspital Saint-Louis. I didn't expect it to be an actual hospital, since words like that often don't mean what you'd think they would, but a hospital it was. I had some ethical qualms snapping pictures of its courtyards as people with IVs shuffled past, but oh well – it was beautiful and calm. Also, the hospital is celebrating its 400th anniversary this year. I can't even conceive of that much history....

:: We had an accidental adventure on Friday night, staying out until after sunrise! It felt very exciting and Lost Generation-y. The evening started because there was this bar we had heard about (and wanted to visit) near Place de la Bastille which was supposed to have Barbie dolls and religious icons stuck on the wall. Well, it certainly had colorful walls, but no Barbies -- the place turned out to be an enormous homage to porn, with various graphic collages hanging everywhere! It was a convivial place to have a drink, though. They closed around one, surprisingly, so we headed out to find something new. There was this bar down the street which looked lively and seductive, full of small tables and dancing candles and beautiful people, but as we walked past we saw the bouncer turning people away at the door. Well, we thought, that's probably a lost cause. And then we thought, well, why not try to get in? And somehow, we just breezed right through! I have rarely felt more like a celebrity. And the bouncer was definitely blocking other people behind us. We did get a surprise when we got the bill -- our drinks were 21.50 apiece! Zut alors! But that is the price one pays to mingle with the beautiful. Also, the drinks were enormous. We left happy.
By the time we left, it was pushing on three o'clock. Getting home on the bus would have probably taken two hours, so it dawned on us, well, why stop now? Let's stay out all night! (The Métro opens again at 5:30.) And so that became the new goal of the evening. It was surprisingly easy. Paris is usually fairly sleepy by two or three, but we managed to find stuff to do, and even found a crepe stand -- food after nine or ten is almost unheard of here. Let me tell you, those crepes were delicious, though. After that we got café at a bar, standing and feeling very suave that we were refueling for more fun at 4 in the morning, and then headed for the Marais, where our favorite bar was closed but thankfully another was open. We ended the night with a bottle of white wine (which seemed to horrify our waiter – "blanc?" he asked; apparently white wine is not the thing to drink at dawn) and then went to watch the sun rise over the Seine. Well, it didn't really rise, the sky just got less gray (it was kind of a grim weekend). But it was still fun to be out. And despite the fact that we were once called "petites salopes" -- little sluts -- on the streets it was a successful night.

:: I had a fun Saturday of sight-seeing. I took another walking tour, in fact the last, of an area which is actually quite near my dorm, a neighborhood called Le Butte aux Cailles. I've seen it called a village within Paris, or something like that; it's just a very un-Parisian neighborhood. The houses are short, the colors are pastel, the architecture provincial, and the streets narrow. I also stopped in the neighborhood church. Usually I'm not in the mood to visit places of worship, but it looked inviting, and was cool and quiet. All in all, a pleasant neighborhood to visit.
I also went to Parc Bercy, another one of Paris's modern parks. Because of its newness and riverside location it invites comparison with Parc André Citroën, the terrible park I visited (and wrote about) earlier. But it's a much more pleasant place. It's set up like a traditional French formal garden, with a grid of paths, but the paths are all slightly askew; nothing meets at right angles. And each little quadrant has amusing surprises -- duck ponds, fountains, rose gardens, earthen mounds, paths, etc. It's a fun place for a walk. I give it thumbs up.
Perhaps the most exciting part of the day was finding the Piscine Flotante, the floating swimming pool on the Seine! Unfortunately it was closed for repairs, but I was excited to stumble across it by accident -- I had read about it a long time ago.

:: On Sunday Vicky and I journeyed just outside of Paris to the Marché aux Puces, the world's original flea market. (Puce means flea, and it refers to the flea-ridden blankets that were sold there back in the 1700s.) It's a Paris institution, and I hoped it might be a good place to do some shopping for souvenirs. In essence, I was hoping to find an endless yard sale, booth after booth filled with buttons and tchotchkes and books and other junk. Well, it was quite different from what I was expecting. Endless it was, but it turns out this is a "classy" flea market. The stalls are all permanent, and they all deal in antiques and real collectibles -- not your average Goodwill junk! It's like a village of antiques, really. Anyhow, even though it wasn't at all what I wanted, it was still fun to poke around there. The highlights were a stall selling vintage Chanel jewelry, which was pretty cool to see (and surprisingly appealing, even by today's aesthetic standards), and a store selling old postcards with messages on them! Total voyeurism into the tourists of a century ago.... Anyhow, it was fun. We also had delicious pizza afterwards, which colors things happily in my book.

:: On Sunday night we finally had a dinner we've been hotly anticipating for months -- fondue! I think fondue might be the origin of the expression "cheesy" because it's such a delightfully tacky way to dine. Apparently real Parisians would never set foot in a fondue restaurant; we were surrounded by other tourists. But it sure was delicious. The fondue was just a big bubbling vat of cheese and wine and oil; the bread was good and crusty; the chocolate fondue for dessert was delicious. I'm really glad we did it! There's just something pleasing about such active food... eating and entertainment.

I think those were the main adventures since I last wrote. It might not seem like much; unfortunately, I've had to spend a lot of last week and this week with schoolwork. But as I write this, I'm almost done with academic obligations for the quarter -- just one research paper to finish. So things are good on that front. It must be said, though, I've had some stress over recent days. And it's ten thousand times worse to be stressed out about school here than it is to be stressed on home campus. I just... don't have any interest in schoolwork here. Why should I? There's Paris to see! So now I can start seeing it again.

I must also apologize for the long delay in between the last entry and this one. I know there are at least a few eager readers of my blog :) and I thank you all for reading it when you do. Updates had to stop for two reasons: the aforementioned schoolwork and the fact that my computer crashed earlier this week. Needless to say, I am not pleased about that, and it brings a number of new inconveniences to my life. Anyhow, that is neither here nor there. The point is... well, I guess the point is just, pity me and my technological problems. :)

With that I think I will sign off. This should be an exciting week -- there's a lot still to see, and a week and a half to do it all! Tomorrow my last burst of tourism begins in earnest, and I look forward to telling you all about it in some future entry. Until then, bisous! Au revoir!