2 – Paris & Ile de France
Day 1
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Day 1, 29th May 2018,
Dep. 08:40 Edinburgh,
Arr. 20:20 Paris Accomodation
Train 955km
It could be accomplished
A week after mailing the majority of my belongings home, I leave my apartment for the last time and set off from Edinburgh with bike luggage totalling about 30kg. I just had a few things too many. A few days later I would realise perhaps I didn’t need that 2 kg laptop, those bundles of winter clothing, cooking herbs, and a second pair of shoes. I reorganised myself and sent 7kg of stuff crammed into a grocery box through a post office service only costing 100€.
Two train journey’s and some 8 hours from Edinburgh, I arrive in: PARIS
I would spend three nights in which I’d organised with the wonderful Fleur through Warmshowers. This would be the perfect welcome into Paris – which I truly believe is also a perfect city. Not the France you might expect to hear from literature of a past long ago – but I was conditioned for it. I’d spent a year living in London prior. Paris they say is less multicultural, and a smaller centre. But it is more unified, and yet the epicentre of a very diverse country. People who move to London under the promise of a paycheck may struggle to grasp the language, but in Paris the only people struggling are the tourists. Many who are in a position to choose to migrate are from a French colony, and therefore already French citizens. Maybe this is an idyllic assumption, but for a country which promotes liberté, égalité, and fraternité I can’t be far off the mark.
Upon my welcome, she had made exceptional rice paper rolls, and later our company was joined by someone who claimed to have no room for food as he’d already claimed two dinners. Max was Kiwi, and had a ripper attitude. They were friends who’d met while cycling the Pyrenees (I didn’t subject myself to any intense climbs this round). He was by the side of the road, looking a bit down, actually he’d just lost an expensive bike and was riding a cheap replacement. But together they’d undergone the rest of the tour together. And ultimately it had been a great experience for them – they remained great friends, and he was back to commence another trip which would last three months. She would participate too in August, when Paris shuts down and everyone’s on holidays. I’m sure on one of my next adventures I’ll find someone along the way too. It’s important for the banter, the times, the encouragement.
Max also had a saying somewhere on the lines of “10km a day is ok”, not that it suggests laziness but rather the propensity to enjoy your surrounds if the place is right. As my old man put “enjoyment of the trip is more important than how many kms”. I was wanting to cover a lot of track, thinking I had to see each prepared destination, but as time went on I was more prone to leaving a place out if I didn’t feel up to it. That first day I arrived it was muggy, and we were just about to experience a violent thunderstorm. I had experienced the extreme weather from London earlier. I managed to get drenched just from crossing the short 50 metres between Kings Cross and St. Pancras. (When I first lived in London I thought it was St Pancreas). Well now the thunderstorms engulfed Paris and all of France actually. I kind of felt like a drink though, and luckily they were game. We made out way downstairs and just a few buildings to the end of the street. Basically cafe corners DO exist, and how it enriches the life. We stayed on the terrace narrowly missing the rain, enjoying a sound and light show. The bar staff were super approachable and friendly.
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Day 2
I had two full days to explore Paris. I had made an itinerary of some of the places I already wished to go. The of some famous persons like Oscar Wilde and James Morrison. But I’m much more interested in the theme of the cemetery rather than any one monument to some decayed corpse barely resembling an idolised star. Everyone who lived was once known, and this is their final way of showing how they’d like to be remembered. The architecture used is sometimes like that of a Roman citadel, plus I find statues alluring. They are one of our earliest forms of theatre. There was one of a lady in mourning at the cemetery, in such an elegant poise. If she were real I would have approached her.
I took a short train outside of Paris, taking the bike with me. I wanted to escape the city for a bit, hit the road for exercise and fresh air albeit without my luggage just a camera. I cycled to Moret-Sur-Loing, a charming preserved village, and found many of the rich estates along the way equally charming – although I couldn’t always tell if they were built in this style or born naturally. There was a fascinating house museum I would have loved to attend, musée Rosa Bonheur, but it was shut this time of year so I only captured the exterior.
Upon my way back along a footpath, entering the gardens of Château de Fontainebleau, there was purpose built woods, something I’d never quite seen before – in between a garden and a forest. The trees were perfectly aligned the same distance apart, but towered at over 20 metres high. The effect was quite profound. I got to see some of the gardens and the exterior of the palace, but unfortunately I’d arrived too late to see the interior. Historically, it has more significance that Versailles. Alas one day I’ll return.
We had news that Fleur had passed her driving test – the process is more involved than in Australia and costs an arm and a leg. I dropped my bags off at her apartment, set up my laptop to upload some photos. Meanwhile they were already celebrating in the corner bar. I got there and they had bowls of pomme de frites and red wine. Then came the champagne and more frites and a cheese board, wow! I don’t know why but Fleur ended up paying for the drinks. But I got the feeling we all felt like kings. Beyond the canal we overlooked a bridge and on the top of its frame high up someone had expertly mounted a stationary ‘exercise’ bike. On some nights someone had been spotted using it. We joked about one of us scaling it, and recording the experience with a drone. Beyond there was warehouses for lots of dope parties. I think La Villette would have been an exciting region to live.
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Day 3
The next day I took my bike again and explored around the centre. I went to see the Gustav Klimt exhibition where his works were seamlessly projected inside an old smelting plant. I was invited to a nice, somewhat sophisticated aperitif. We were celebrating two occasions. Fleur’s license, and one of her friend/co-worker’s break up from her boyfriend. He had failed an attempt to win her back with a case of champagne. We were drinking it that night!
A few places I would really have liked to have seen on the outskirts of Paris are the ultramodern brutalist apartment complexes built in the 60s looking out of a dystopia. Such as Les Espaces d’Abraxas. And Jardin d’Agronomie Tropicale a human zoo, a remnant of a dark history 120 years ago where inhabitants from each of the colonies were brought to Paris with promise of a job, only to be set up in mock villages for the public to see. The dilapidated structures linger, unable to be preserved which would be considered as glorifying the past, and unable to be removed which could be considered as burying it.
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Day 15
Upon my return to Paris about two weeks later – necessary for changing regions by train, I finally went to see the tour de Eiffel. It was simply a detour as I needed to travel west. I didn’t feel the need to take photos, but I was happy to witness it, the iron archway greatly impressed me. In terms of the structure as a whole, there’s no real need to visit, it pervades the landscape for many of the districts. I reached Saint-Cloud where a friend and his family was able to host me. The name has no reference whatsoever to the high climb involved, almost overlooking all of Paris. It does however happen to be the site of the first ever bike race, in 1868.
We had a taste of a few wines with a delicious meal, from different regions, and I got to see Ivan’s private wine cellar. We tasted wine from Loire region, although I don’t remember which others. He recommended tasting red in Cahors, which isn’t so far from Bordeaux but greatly differs in price. (In Bordeaux, 3 square acres sold for He runs a retailer business Les Raisins de la Joie. A family business The name a slant on the Steinbeck novel Grapes of Wrath, a reference I believe given by Eloi who was known as the ‘poet’ of the family. Anyone interested can check out their business specialising in excellent biological wine (a process which is becoming the norm). Not sure how expensive import is to Australia, however they conduct business throughout the world. The wine is stored in concrete vanguards which allow it to breathe during the ageing process. It is generally considered detrimental to obtain the perfumed harsh scent of wood, from oak barrels.
, who was at the time yet to start a teaching position working in an area of disadvantaged youths where there’d always be more than one character playing up. He proved however that he had developed the mechanical spirit, being able to assist in a number of areas – on the old style 10 gear bike, it’s hard to imagine that after a year owning the bike I still wasn’t using the gear levers correctly! But I had suspected it and felt comfortable asking and sounding a complete idiot. One sprocket had 5 gears, the other had two, but once shifted to the larger front you had to shift down on the back to repeat the process. It meant that I had been pedalling harder uphill, and not reaching the maximum speed either, sitting around 3rd to 6th gears instead of utilising all increments.
