Tag Archives: street scenes

by

Paris and autumn’s lavish brush

As the days fall away, so too do the leaves of autumn.

Relaxing mornings spent with strong coffee and fresh, flaky, buttery croissants heated in the oven and pulled apart to top with marmalade have been our norm since arriving in Paris in early October. 

But on a day that’s destined to be the warmest so far (79F/26C), we venture out as the sun’s rays touch the white stone architecture of the city and Paris awakens. The streets are still damp from the coolness of the evening and the softness of the morning light creates a sense of newness. 

Thom, Eric and I are off to Le Pure Café in the 11th Arr. It’s a lovely morning for a walk and we find some wonderful cobblestone streets with interesting restaurants and shops that beg us to take short detours.

Restaurants and shops along a side street

Not too far from the Place de la Bastille at 14 Rue Jean-Macé, Le Pure Café is situated away from the hustle and bustle of traffic, yet well positioned on a corner between two side streets. 

Le Pure Café

A series of proprietors have maintained its 1930s vintage decor where you can sit at an outdoor table or find a cozy spot inside. The ambience, with its old-fashioned signboard, flare lamps and mosaic tiles pulls you back to a previous time in Paris. The rather distinguished zinc bar would be a nice place to sit with a glass of wine. 

Vintage zinc bar

On this day, we take a table inside and discover that they don’t actually serve breakfast. However, they have one croissant and one tartine that we’re able to purchase. We decide it was probably the breakfast set aside for the waiter, who may actually be the proprietor, as he appears to be the only worker in the café. The coffee is good and we’re thankful for the small bite that we share between the three of us.

A gentleman sits at the counter, his small, white Lasa sits atop, its head sticking out of a black carrying case as he closely watches the activity taking place around him. Other customers sip coffee and read newspapers, books, or chat amiably with their companions. 

Large windows encircle the room where the morning light adds to the ambiance. I pause for a moment and think, “My TimeWalker friend would love this place.”

The location and the café’s vibe has been a draw for the film industry as well. It’s been featured in the French films Le code a changé and Les Infidèles, but possibly the most famous example is Before Sunset, where Julie Delpy and Ethan Hawke’s Parisian time together is brought to an end.

At our end, we decide to wander the area around the Bastille. We had wanted to go underground into the Bastille’s crypt, however, as we’ve discovered on several occasions during this visit, it, too, is in the midst of renovation with a 2020 scheduled opening.

Side street near the Bastille

Meandering through the streets, we find some lovely back streets and come out in the 12th Arr near the Viaduc des Arts. 

Studios and shops dedicated to arts and crafts

The viaduct, located just east of the Opéra Bastille, was built in the 19th century to support the Paris / Bastille-Varenne railway line inaugurated in 1859 and closed a century later with the opening of the RER A. Between 1990 and 2000, the vaults of the viaduct were restored as arts and crafts studios and shops. There are more than 50 artisans located here creating and presenting their designs in support of innovation and creativity. You’ll find restaurants as well as workshops, showrooms, shops and galleries.

Above the Viaduc des Arts, along the old railway, sits the Promenade Plantée also known as the Coulée verte René-Dumont. This nearly three mile elevated park opened in 1993.

Bamboo archway along the Promenade Plantée

The Promenade Plantée also appears in the film Before Sunset.

Since breakfast was slight, after perusing the shops, we decide to stop at a boulangerie for sandwiches and an impromptu picnic above the city. The trees have grown substantially since our last visit here in 2014.

The park above Paris

It was a lovely day as the lavish brush of autumn continues to color the city. The weather has remained very warm for this October with only one day of rain. We’re taking advantage of this with long walks through the beautiful neighborhoods of Paris.

by

Ah India …

I wrote the piece below upon my return from India several months ago. I have been “readjusting” as I am now back in the US, and for some reason, have been putting off posting this. I believe it is because once posted, my adventure in India will not only FEEL over but BE over. And at this point, I can only say, until the next time …

______________________________________________

Dawn approaches with streaks of lightening. The rain comes down in waves as if the gods were dipping their buckets in a great cask of water and tossing out the contents on the world. It’s monsoon season in India; the air fresh and finally the heat subdued a bit. But wait … through my window, I see an airplane passing low, its landing gear at the ready, and clarity comes to my groggy early morning mind.

Ah, India … I’m gone from you now. This ache is real. I feel displaced as if a veil has been lowered muting the colors of my world.

View from my flat

View from my flat

I close my eyes. Fishermen are lined up in their small boats at the shore of the backwaters lowering their nets for the morning’s catch. Birds are calling hoping to snag a fish tossed back. Bolgatty Island is just visible through the mist, and on the other side, the Arabian Sea calls to the ships to take them to other exotic places. To the north, the Chinese Fishing Nets are lowered and raised again in hopes of a good morning.

Chinese fishing nets

Chinese fishing nets

Ah India … she calls to me, catching me off guard and I find myself drifting back, forgetting my current world in an attempt to hold on to the other.

Lake Erie is vast as I gaze out the window of the Cleveland office building. Sailboats dot the horizon, their sails billowing in the summer breeze.  The office is deathly quiet, as if I’m the only one working here.

I close my eyes. Sounds erupt; chatter, laughter, the noise of our teams working together.  The energy is palpable. I smile and the noise is replaced with a heaviness that is nearly tangible.

Ah India … the sights and sounds and colors. The uniqueness of it all will never leave me.

The colors of India

The colors of India

I smile at the memories … the cow with long blue horns riding in the back of the pick-up truck, the flashes of beautiful silk sarees adorning the lovely women as they walk quickly across the streets between the cars, autos, motorcycles, goats and other pedestrians. The trucks and buses of all colors imaginable.

Colorful truck

Colorful truck

Tea and spice shop

Tea and spice shop

Ah India … the cord that connects our worlds is strong but you are so very far away. A part of me was left behind while the part of me that remains has been forever altered.

I close my eyes. I see your beautiful faces, your eyes bright, your smiles engaging, your friendship and passion real. In the midst of tears, I laugh … my heart is full … my desire to see you presses upon me.

by

The man with a most unusual hat

About a week ago, I was traveling the typical route to work, my camera at the ready to get any interesting drive-by shots, when I saw him.

We had almost come to the by-pass and there he was, standing by the side of the road with what appeared to be a very large hat upon his head. As we got closer, I couldn’t quite make it out, but it was quite colorful and very grand indeed. Now, we were upon him and I could see that there were, in fact, chickens festooned upon his head. I raised my camera and just then, the shutter closed and I missed the shot.

I know, sounds rather astonishing, doesn’t it? Well, I can tell you it took me by surprise!

The man was tall and very thin, with a disproportionately thick mustache. He was dressed in a maroon shirt and was wearing a typical Indian ‘skirt’ (dhoti) pulled up above his knees and tied at his waist, as is the custom on very hot days. His ‘hat’ was brilliantly balanced on his head.

The chickens were laying in such a way as to appear sleeping, but clearly they were not, as they weren’t moving at all, and it would have been a fine trick indeed were they still living. I don’t know how they were tied together, but you couldn’t see their feet at all, only their bodies and heads.

They were plump with beautiful feathers in an array of colors; feathers the color of saffron with the ends tipped in India ink. Others followed in burnt sienna, burnished gold and a mottled coffee and cream. They were lying, with one head resting against the next one’s wing and so forth in a circle, like a big feathery wreath of chickens.

I wanted to ask him how he came to be wearing such a unique head dress, but he had disappeared into the crowd before I had the chance.

I look for him every day now at the same place hoping to catch sight of him so I can confirm my story, but I fear I shall never see the chicken man again.

I’ve seen so much here in India and most of the things I’ve seen, I see again. But I have told many people here about the man with the chicken hat and they seem astonished as well. So even though I continue to look for him, I believe that was one sight that will live only in my memory.

For now, I hope I’ve described this well enough for you to see it too, if you just close your eyes.

by

Upon arrival: Remembered first impressions of India

My flight from Singapore to the Cochin International Airport was an hour late and I arrived after 11:00 pm. I gathered my checked baggage … oh, my, I can hear you saying, “You actually checked baggage?” Yes, for my six months to a year, I needed to take too many liquids over three ounces. So, I decided since I was checking one bag, I’d go ahead and check two. So I didn’t carry much onto the plane this time, which was really nice! I can now see why people check bags! Except of course, when you get on the other end and have to wait … and wait … and wait! But arrive they did, for which I was truly grateful. (You all know how bad my baggage karma is!).

My driver was waiting and even though I got into the car totally exhausted, I spent the time looking through the darkness getting glimpses of things along the roadways I had forgotten.

For example, I was reminded of the buildings with rows of small lights draped over them, similar to Christmas lights, but not limited just to December.

I saw people, including children, walking at this very late hour, very close to the road, their backs to the oncoming traffic, completely oblivious and totally unconcerned about the cars passing very close by.

I remembered the billboards, all different sizes and shapes; really large ones with faces of people looming out of the night sky. And smaller rectangular ones, all colorful with messages in interesting and beautifully written languages that I couldn’t even begin to grasp the meaning of. Signage here overwhelms the senses, blocks the views and hangs from fences, poles and even trees. The environment is colored by flowers, greenery and overwhelmed with signs vying for your attention! There’s certainly no such thing as Post no bills here.

Fairly organized signs

Fairly organized signs

I recalled a time in the US when many more billboards and signs dotted the landscape, grabbing your attention and clouding the beauty of the land. It made me realize how grateful I am to Lady Bird Johnson for her Beautification Campaign.

I got to the hotel after midnight and went to bed about 2:30 am. I didn’t wake until 1:00 pm and I couldn’t believe my eyes when I looked at the clock and it read 1300. So, it was a really good thing I came on the weekend.

by

The crazy driving …

So, here I am winding down my initial India trip and wanted to fill you in on the driving madness here.

I can see why our firm doesn’t want us to drive. Jacob (a colleague in India) told us that the line in the middle of the road is “merely a suggestion.” People pass each other, using their horns frequently, while drivers are coming straight toward them. They squeak by, sometimes five abreast, four going one direction taking up most of the road and forcing the one coming the other direction to drive off the edge. Buses and trucks have writing on the backs of them that read: Sound Horn. I’m sure there’s a specific language associated with it; but I haven’t figured it out.

School bus in the middle

School bus in the middle

Our drivers have been VERY focused and so strangely enough, I haven’t been nervous when riding in this craziness.

‘Drivers’ can be driving camel carts, ox carts, horse carts, rickshaw-type carts, bicycle carts as well as just plain bicycles, buses, lorries, cars (mostly small), motorcycles (tons of these) and lots of Autos (Tuk Tuks), which are the small, three wheeled taxis (for those of you who saw The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, you know what I’m talking about). We saw one of them with 17 people in and on it (our driver counted). Several people were riding on top and we were amazed that they didn’t bounce right off given the road conditions.

Busy street

Busy street

We saw five people on a motorcycle – two small children up front, the driver (presumably the father) with the mother on the back riding side-saddle in her sari and holding a baby. We’ve seen many with three people onboard and some with four, but this one surprised both Tracy and I when our driver pointed it out. Oh, and most don’t wear helmets. Oh, and our driver said 70% of the motorcyclists don’t have licenses.

You might see buses with people riding on top and squashed inside. We saw trucks that are open in the back (like pick-up trucks with wooden slats on the sides) that will just stop and pick people up (apparently people pay a small fee to ride in these). We also saw a ‘handmade truck’ with the wooden slats on the back, but when we passed it, there was no cab in front, simply a wooden slab with a steering mechanism and an engine underneath.

Bus with roof travelers

Bus with roof travelers

Coming back from Agra, it got dark and then it was really scary with many trucks having no rear tail lights. We passed one such truck on the right only to get stopped by cows in the road. Or sometimes the cars will turn off their headlights in deference to the drivers heading toward them. I told the driver that it must be really difficult on the back roads in the dark.

At one point, we were stopped at one of the very few stop lights and police officers were walking by and having all the stopped drivers breathe into a device to check for alcohol levels. Apparently they can’t just stop you, but if you’re already stopped, they can just make you take this ‘test.’ Interesting!

As in England, they drive on the other side of the road. People are walking everywhere with motorized and other vehicles sort of crossing every which way. There are also motorcycles and Autos driving on the side of the road, generally trying to cross, but basically coming at you from the wrong direction.

Someone asked me where the traffic police were and when I asked my driver, Majesh, he just laughed. On the way to work the other morning, we saw a guy come out of a bar and get on his motorcycle. He was weaving all over the place and nearly collided with several oncoming vehicles before turning off the road. Majesh was just shaking his head and staying as far away as possible!

This morning there was a bright yellow Lamborghini parked in front of my hotel. Majesh said it would be very sad to drive a car like that in India with all the traffic, congestion and road conditions!

So after this, I can’t imagine you’d be wondering, but just in case you are, I will definitely NOT be driving while in India.