December 14, 2016, Wednesday: London
My Last Day in London Dawned:
Hard to believe that almost five whole months had passed since I had arrived to make London my home. And yet, it seemed to me like an eternity. The things I had done (moving into Bethnal Green) and the places I had visited (Victoria Park, the Museum of Childhood, the Ragged School Museum) seemed such a long time ago to me! And now finally, it was all over. I would be flying to India on the morrow, spending five weeks with my Dad in his home in Bombay, then one more week in the UK and at the end of January, I would wing my way back home to the USA after exactly six months away!
So how exactly did I spend my last day?
More Packing, More Clearing and Saying my Goodbyes:
After leaving my place in Maida Vale, I took the Tube to the Burger King at Tottenham Court Road for breakfast. Feeling strengthened, I made my way across Bedford Square to my office and set straight off to the task of finalizing my packing. With all that done and one suitcase closed up and locked, I took it downstairs to the office of my colleague who offered to hold it for me until my return from India--which was very kind of her indeed.
I then set out to say my goodbyes to the many folk who had made my Fellowship so fruitful--administrative and support staff, a couple of faculty members who had been such a source of friendship and support during my time. The sudden death of our beloved site director at NYU-London had put such a damper on everyone's spirits but with the end-of-semester around the corner, holiday parties were still being held on schedule. I would be missing our holiday party which is tomorrow evening as I fly out tomorrow morning. As I went from one office to the next saying goodbye and thank-you to my colleagues, I felt an unfamiliar mixture of feelings--sadness at parting from them, but relief that time had passed and I would soon be seeing (first) my Dad and brother Russel in Bombay and later Llew, my other brother Roger and his family in the States.
Lunch was the last bits and bobs from my stash of office snacks--mainly cookies which I had with a cup of hot chocolate from the kitchen. Then, I set about preparing for my evening's lecture at the School of Oriental and African Studies at the University of London as I had been invited to conduct a seminar there. I had already sent them the Powerpoint presentation I intended to make and all I needed to do was to focus on my invited talk and put myself in a calm frame of mind to take questions.
Giving an Invited Lecture at the Seminar at SOAS:
My talk at the Center for Migration and Diasporic Studies at SOAS was scheduled for 5.00pm, but I had been invited by Prof. Parvati Raman to meet her at 4.00 pm in the main Reception area. It was good to meet her and at her invitation, we set out for a coffee in one of the lounges. It is a good thing that SOAS is just behind our NYU-London premises. I know the building well and have used its library on a couple of occasions in the past.
Paru had invited a couple of her colleagues to join us and before long, we were a spirited few at the table discussing all things--from the situation regarding academic hiring in the UK (dismal, as it is everywhere) to the kind of students who would be attending my talk (interdisciplinary ones). It was very interesting and time flew by.
At 4. 50 pm, we made our way to the classroom in which the seminar was to be held. My Powerpoint Presentation was up and running on the screen and in a very short space of time, Paru introduced me to an almost full classroom and I began to talk about my forthcoming book on Britain's Anglo-Indians: The Invisibility of Assimilation. I spoke for about 45 minutes in a talk that was recorded. It was followed by a very interesting Question and Answer session as the students asked many questions that I found a lot of fun to answer.
By 6.45 pm, it was all over and I had finished my last professional commitment in London and was free to think about winging it homewards to India. I said Bye and Thanks to Paru and returned to my office at NYU.
Getting an Uber Cab to Maida Vale:
I had called for a mini cab to take me to Maida Vale as I had a large suitcase I needed to transport there--it would go with me to India early tomorrow morning.
However, the cab simply did not show. While waiting downstairs in the lobby for it, I ran into an Indian woman, the mother of one of our students from Chandigarh, India, who suggested I use Uber. I had never used it before and had always meant to download the app on to my phone. Well, I had no choice. She guided me on how to download the app, how to hail the cab and how to go about tracking its arrival. That was it! I am now sold on Uber and hope that I can continue to use it in India.
The Uber cabbie turned up soon enough and, within ten minutes, I was in a cab and on my way to Maida Vale where I reached about 25 minutes later. Then began the difficult haul of my case up Raquel's stairs--she has no elevator--to the third floor where I stashed it for the night. I spent most of the rest of the evening organizing and repacking the last of my bits and pieces that were in the room I had occupied and then I was ready to say goodbye to everyone and get to bed on my last night in T'Smoke.
Early tomorrow morning at 6.00 am, I have a cabbie coming to pick me up to take me to Heathrow airport for my 10.00 am flight to Bombay.
I will not be blogging again until I return to the UK on January 20, 2017. Thanks a million for following me and for being such faithful readers of my blog. It has been a wild ride--a crazy five months. Oftentimes I awoke actually wondering where I was. But, in the end, although I missed my family members far more than I have ever done while away from home and although I am convinced that I will not take any more professional gigs that keep Llew and me apart, I am grateful for every one of the opportunities that came my way, every single experience I had and every person I met. I wish you all a Very Happy Holiday Season, a Christmas that's Merry and Bright and a Healthy and Fulfilling New Year.
Until 2017 comes around, cheerio...
Friday, December 30, 2016
A Visit to Holland Park and the new Museum of Design
December 13, 2016, Tuesday: London
A Visit to Holland Park and the New Museum of Design
Another Early Start:
It has become routine for me to get no more than six hours of sleep per night. Accordingly, I awoke in Maida Vale as the rest of the household bustled around getting ready for their day. Taking things back and forth between my office and my home takes some organization and I am trying to keep my wits clearly about me as I go about the task of basically closing shop in London.
My aim today was to view the new Museum of Design that used to be at Shad Thames where I had once met a friend for a coffee. After deciding to re-locate, thanks to Terence Conran who seems to have poured moolah into the project, the museum has a new home. During my absence, it re-opened with much fanfare in Holland Park at Kensington and had I spent more time googling its exact location, I would have taken the Tube to Kensington High Street and found my way from there. As it turned out, I got off at Holland Park--which meant a really long walk to get to the other (Kensington) side of the park before I found the building.
Visiting the Museum of Design:
I did not have a lot of time to spare for the museum, so I had to hurry through it. Besides, Holland Park is one of my favorite parts of London and walking through it always gives me a high. I tended to linger there--which left me less time for the museum. I associate the Park, in my mind, with the TV series As Times Goes By (my favorite British TV series of all time!) Lionel and Jean, the protagonists, first meet in Holland Park when young. Almost forty years later, Holland Park is the setting for a lot of their meetings when they reinstate contact and re-ignite interest in one another. I have taken many pictures, over the years, in the exact spots where the shooting of the TV series occurred--yes, I am that keen on it! I have also visited the street and the house that was their TV home for many years while the series was shot--at St. James' Gardens. not far from Holland Park. Hence, I lingered in the park on a cold morning when so few people were about.
Eventually, a good half hour after I emerged from the Tube station, I found the Museum in its spiffy new home--all glass and sharp angles. The architect is John Pawson with whose work I am unfamiliar. I was fortunate enough to get free entry into the Museum with my Met ID card, but I have to make clear that while there were no 'free' bits in the former location, in this new avatar, the Museum has left its top most floor 'free'. You only pay for the special exhibits that keep changing frequently.
The top floor, in my opinion, was the best part of the it all. On walls that are hung with interesting objects from the beginning of the twentieth century, you can trace the history and development of everyday things that we use while taking their design for granted. There are some museum pieces, for instance, that we did actually once use. For instance, there are brick-size and brick-heavy cell phones that I can clearly remember Llew possessing! I went rapidly through them and really do wish I had more time to take it all in.
Going swiftly from one floor to the next, I found that the best part of the museum for me was its internal design. I loved the concept of assessing each floor through stairs and elevators on opposite banks of the building. The Modernist vision is very obvious and I enjoyed it all.
Off to Waitrose for a Coffee:
I cannot pass Waitrose without going in for a few goodies and since I was starving by this point, I got my free café latte and delicious freshly-baked pecan rolls and ate them at the counter overlooking Kensington High Street. Then, I popped my head into the Oxfam thrift store to look for vintage jewelry and finding none, I hopped into a bus that took me to my office at NYU.
More Packing:
I had a big chore to undertake for my office still needed to be cleared out. I finally finished packing one suitcase that I could carry to India and tried to cram everything else into the other suitcase that I would leave behind in London. The snacks and foods I had left in my office over five months needed to be consumed--and so lunch was rather a mishmash of soup, Border's Chocolate Hazelnut Cookies, M&S Pistachio and Almond Cookies and Prawn Crackers from Waitrose! Although it sounds an easy task, I have to tell you that I was mentally and physically exhausted by the time I finished stashing all my things away.
Off to Buy Shoes:
Since I would be in Bombay for Christmas and New Year and since I had a rather shabby pair of black court shoes that needed replacement, I set off for Oxford Street to buy myself a pair. I took the Tube to Marble Arch and set off for the large M&S there, when lo and behold, I passed by Next and saw the perfect pair right in the window. Now what are the odds that such a thing would happen? I marched right in and decided that, if the price was right and they were comfortable, I would buy them right away.
How lucky was I? The shoes were very reasonably priced, fit me like a glove (although I did not know my size in British measurements and merely gave the salesman my American size) and actually looked good on my feet. So, without a whole lot of fuss and minimal time, I found exactly what I wanted and was out.
I did, however, get eventually to Marks and Sparks as I wanted to buy a rich fruit cake to carry to India for Christmas. I found the cake too without too much wastage of time and armed with my purchases, I got back on the Tube towards home.
Finishing the Gingerbread House:
Jonas and I spent some time working on the gingerbread house that we had started constructing two days ago. This was the fun day as it involved decorating the house with candy. Jonas had a field day and as we continued our hard work on the project, his mother got dinner organized.
We sat down to eat a simple but delicious salad with bread, cheese and crackers and were ready to call it a night soon enough as it was a school night for Jonas.
Hard to believe that my long stint in London is coming to a swift end.
Until tomorrow, cheerio...
A Visit to Holland Park and the New Museum of Design
Another Early Start:
It has become routine for me to get no more than six hours of sleep per night. Accordingly, I awoke in Maida Vale as the rest of the household bustled around getting ready for their day. Taking things back and forth between my office and my home takes some organization and I am trying to keep my wits clearly about me as I go about the task of basically closing shop in London.
My aim today was to view the new Museum of Design that used to be at Shad Thames where I had once met a friend for a coffee. After deciding to re-locate, thanks to Terence Conran who seems to have poured moolah into the project, the museum has a new home. During my absence, it re-opened with much fanfare in Holland Park at Kensington and had I spent more time googling its exact location, I would have taken the Tube to Kensington High Street and found my way from there. As it turned out, I got off at Holland Park--which meant a really long walk to get to the other (Kensington) side of the park before I found the building.
Visiting the Museum of Design:
I did not have a lot of time to spare for the museum, so I had to hurry through it. Besides, Holland Park is one of my favorite parts of London and walking through it always gives me a high. I tended to linger there--which left me less time for the museum. I associate the Park, in my mind, with the TV series As Times Goes By (my favorite British TV series of all time!) Lionel and Jean, the protagonists, first meet in Holland Park when young. Almost forty years later, Holland Park is the setting for a lot of their meetings when they reinstate contact and re-ignite interest in one another. I have taken many pictures, over the years, in the exact spots where the shooting of the TV series occurred--yes, I am that keen on it! I have also visited the street and the house that was their TV home for many years while the series was shot--at St. James' Gardens. not far from Holland Park. Hence, I lingered in the park on a cold morning when so few people were about.
Eventually, a good half hour after I emerged from the Tube station, I found the Museum in its spiffy new home--all glass and sharp angles. The architect is John Pawson with whose work I am unfamiliar. I was fortunate enough to get free entry into the Museum with my Met ID card, but I have to make clear that while there were no 'free' bits in the former location, in this new avatar, the Museum has left its top most floor 'free'. You only pay for the special exhibits that keep changing frequently.
The top floor, in my opinion, was the best part of the it all. On walls that are hung with interesting objects from the beginning of the twentieth century, you can trace the history and development of everyday things that we use while taking their design for granted. There are some museum pieces, for instance, that we did actually once use. For instance, there are brick-size and brick-heavy cell phones that I can clearly remember Llew possessing! I went rapidly through them and really do wish I had more time to take it all in.
Going swiftly from one floor to the next, I found that the best part of the museum for me was its internal design. I loved the concept of assessing each floor through stairs and elevators on opposite banks of the building. The Modernist vision is very obvious and I enjoyed it all.
Off to Waitrose for a Coffee:
I cannot pass Waitrose without going in for a few goodies and since I was starving by this point, I got my free café latte and delicious freshly-baked pecan rolls and ate them at the counter overlooking Kensington High Street. Then, I popped my head into the Oxfam thrift store to look for vintage jewelry and finding none, I hopped into a bus that took me to my office at NYU.
More Packing:
I had a big chore to undertake for my office still needed to be cleared out. I finally finished packing one suitcase that I could carry to India and tried to cram everything else into the other suitcase that I would leave behind in London. The snacks and foods I had left in my office over five months needed to be consumed--and so lunch was rather a mishmash of soup, Border's Chocolate Hazelnut Cookies, M&S Pistachio and Almond Cookies and Prawn Crackers from Waitrose! Although it sounds an easy task, I have to tell you that I was mentally and physically exhausted by the time I finished stashing all my things away.
Off to Buy Shoes:
Since I would be in Bombay for Christmas and New Year and since I had a rather shabby pair of black court shoes that needed replacement, I set off for Oxford Street to buy myself a pair. I took the Tube to Marble Arch and set off for the large M&S there, when lo and behold, I passed by Next and saw the perfect pair right in the window. Now what are the odds that such a thing would happen? I marched right in and decided that, if the price was right and they were comfortable, I would buy them right away.
How lucky was I? The shoes were very reasonably priced, fit me like a glove (although I did not know my size in British measurements and merely gave the salesman my American size) and actually looked good on my feet. So, without a whole lot of fuss and minimal time, I found exactly what I wanted and was out.
I did, however, get eventually to Marks and Sparks as I wanted to buy a rich fruit cake to carry to India for Christmas. I found the cake too without too much wastage of time and armed with my purchases, I got back on the Tube towards home.
Finishing the Gingerbread House:
Jonas and I spent some time working on the gingerbread house that we had started constructing two days ago. This was the fun day as it involved decorating the house with candy. Jonas had a field day and as we continued our hard work on the project, his mother got dinner organized.
We sat down to eat a simple but delicious salad with bread, cheese and crackers and were ready to call it a night soon enough as it was a school night for Jonas.
Hard to believe that my long stint in London is coming to a swift end.
Until tomorrow, cheerio...
Packing, Posting and Meeting Friends for Lunch and Tea
December 12, 2016, Monday: London
A Day Spent Mainly Packing:
Awaking by 7. 30 am in Maida Vale I used my phone to catch up with Twitter and email. It was not long before I washed, showered, got dressed and left to spend the entire morning at my office at NYU. I stopped at Burger King at Tottenham Court Road to pick up a breakfast sandwich and coffee and fortifying myself with this meal, I made my way to my office at Bedford Square.
In four days, I would be leaving for India where I would be spending 5 weeks. I was uncertain exactly what I should pack as the cool season (I cannot call it winter) is so mild that the kind of clothes one would wear in the UK in the summer would be just fine. On the other hand, the evenings can be cool and a couple of cardigans would not be out of place. I also had a bunch of shopping to do and since I had checked on the net and found out that I could take only one suitcase to India, I had such a hard time moving things from one suitcase to the next and weighing as I went along. My intention was to leave one suitcase in the premises of NYU and carry one of my suitcases to India. With Christmas shopping for family members, goodies such as Christmas puddings, Quality Street and Celebrations chocolates, lots of packets of powdered soups, a large fruit cake from M&S, packets of biscuits and other goodies taking space among my clothing, it took a great deal of ingenuity for me to try to finesse my packing in the most practical way.
Off for Lunch with a New Friend:
At 1.00 pm, I had a lunch appointment with a new friend I have made, Devika. She had suggested we meet at a South Indian restaurant called Chettinad that was right off Tottenham Court Road. It took me five minutes to walk from my office to the restaurant and I reached about ten minutes before Devika arrived.
We decided to have the Lunch Special which provided rice, a non-vegetarian (chicken) curry, a dal, a dry vegetable, a dosa stuffed with potatoes and a serving of raita. Everything was delicious and Devika and I had a lovely long catch-up on a number of aspects about our lives as we got to know each other better.
It was about 3.00 pm when Devika and I left the restaurant and made our way to Victoria where I had to keep my next appointment. We hopped into a bus as I intended to get to M&S to pick up a pair of shoes before my appointment...but as the bus crept along Oxford Street that was jammed with holiday shoppers, I changed my mind and decided to keep shoe-shopping for the next day.
Tea with a Friend at Victoria:
I had made plans to meet my friend Reshma at the lobby of the Grosvenor Hotel in Victoria as the station is too crowded. It had also begun drizzling...so Reshma was grateful to have to wait indoors. I arrived at the scheduled hour and we had a very affectionate reunion. She is the mother of a student I once taught--and, funnily enough, we have become good friends. Reshma had spent quite a long time in India and was not around in London for most of my stay. It was, therefore, a pleasure to be able to spend an evening with her.
We returned to Café Rouge which was the same place in which we had tea the last time we had met. Over decaff tea and a caffe latte, we had a long catch-up and had a lot to discuss.
But a couple of hours later, it was time for us to part company. Reshma saw me into a bus that took me to the Tube stop and from there, I went home after a day filled with practicalities and the company of good friends.
Until tomorrow, cheerio...
A Day Spent Mainly Packing:
Awaking by 7. 30 am in Maida Vale I used my phone to catch up with Twitter and email. It was not long before I washed, showered, got dressed and left to spend the entire morning at my office at NYU. I stopped at Burger King at Tottenham Court Road to pick up a breakfast sandwich and coffee and fortifying myself with this meal, I made my way to my office at Bedford Square.
In four days, I would be leaving for India where I would be spending 5 weeks. I was uncertain exactly what I should pack as the cool season (I cannot call it winter) is so mild that the kind of clothes one would wear in the UK in the summer would be just fine. On the other hand, the evenings can be cool and a couple of cardigans would not be out of place. I also had a bunch of shopping to do and since I had checked on the net and found out that I could take only one suitcase to India, I had such a hard time moving things from one suitcase to the next and weighing as I went along. My intention was to leave one suitcase in the premises of NYU and carry one of my suitcases to India. With Christmas shopping for family members, goodies such as Christmas puddings, Quality Street and Celebrations chocolates, lots of packets of powdered soups, a large fruit cake from M&S, packets of biscuits and other goodies taking space among my clothing, it took a great deal of ingenuity for me to try to finesse my packing in the most practical way.
Off for Lunch with a New Friend:
At 1.00 pm, I had a lunch appointment with a new friend I have made, Devika. She had suggested we meet at a South Indian restaurant called Chettinad that was right off Tottenham Court Road. It took me five minutes to walk from my office to the restaurant and I reached about ten minutes before Devika arrived.
We decided to have the Lunch Special which provided rice, a non-vegetarian (chicken) curry, a dal, a dry vegetable, a dosa stuffed with potatoes and a serving of raita. Everything was delicious and Devika and I had a lovely long catch-up on a number of aspects about our lives as we got to know each other better.
It was about 3.00 pm when Devika and I left the restaurant and made our way to Victoria where I had to keep my next appointment. We hopped into a bus as I intended to get to M&S to pick up a pair of shoes before my appointment...but as the bus crept along Oxford Street that was jammed with holiday shoppers, I changed my mind and decided to keep shoe-shopping for the next day.
Tea with a Friend at Victoria:
I had made plans to meet my friend Reshma at the lobby of the Grosvenor Hotel in Victoria as the station is too crowded. It had also begun drizzling...so Reshma was grateful to have to wait indoors. I arrived at the scheduled hour and we had a very affectionate reunion. She is the mother of a student I once taught--and, funnily enough, we have become good friends. Reshma had spent quite a long time in India and was not around in London for most of my stay. It was, therefore, a pleasure to be able to spend an evening with her.
We returned to Café Rouge which was the same place in which we had tea the last time we had met. Over decaff tea and a caffe latte, we had a long catch-up and had a lot to discuss.
But a couple of hours later, it was time for us to part company. Reshma saw me into a bus that took me to the Tube stop and from there, I went home after a day filled with practicalities and the company of good friends.
Until tomorrow, cheerio...
Westminster Cathedral, Breakfast at Dominique Ansel's Bakery and the Museum of London
December 11, Sunday: London
An Early Start:
Ever since I had arrived in London in late-July, I had been promising myself that I would attend Sunday Mass at Westminster Cathedral--the Catholic Church on Victoria Road (not to be confused with the more-famous Anglican Westminster Abbey). This would be the day I would go to the 9.00 am Mass--which involved leaving my friend Raquel's place at 8.15 to make it in time.
Mass and Christmas Market at Westminster Cathedral:
Mass was wonderful. There was a visiting delegation of people from Italy and a bunch of Filipinos who conduct the services. I received Communion and at the end of Mass left, quite unexpectedly, to poke my head into the Christmas Market that they said was on in a Hall behind the church. I ended up finding about four DVDs of the British TV shows I have been collecting as well as two scented candles and with those items in a bag, I hurried off to meet my friend Roz for breakfast.
Breakfast at Dominique Ansel Bakery at Victoria:
My friend Roz and I had agreed that when I returned from my travels in Israel and France, we would meet for breakfast at Dominique Ansel's Bakery at Victoria. Raquel and Jonas also decided to join us there and as I stood waiting for a bus to get me there from Victoria Road, I hoped I would not be late. I called Roz to tell her that I was running late and then along came a bus. I was at the spot at 10.20 only to find that Raquel and Jonas had arrived there and that Roz was keeping our spot in the line.
As is pretty well-known by now, Dominique Ansel, the Parisien patisieur took New York by storm when he invented the Cronut--a cross between a croissant and a donut. I had eaten one of these the day I took the coach from Victoria to Leeds and I had loved every last crumb of it. This time, with a Hazelnut Croissant in my hand, I have to admit that it was not quite as good as I expected. Roz and Raquel were also quite disappointed. Raquel found (as I did) that the hazelnut flavor was much too mild and Roz simply felt that there was too much going on with the concoction. With hot chocolate and coffee to wash our treats down, we had a lovely chat and then left. Roz said goodbye to us as she left for her next appointment after wishing us both Very Happy Holidays.
Off to Jo Loves:
Being on Elizabeth Street, I had decided that I would pop into Jo Loves, the perfume store on the same street and that I would take Raquel there with me and introduce her to the place. It was packed. I could barely get a foot in but somehow Raquel, Jonas and I managed to squeeze our way in and try out some of their offerings. I finally left with their ten perfume spritz sampler which would allow me to try them all and then buy a bottle of the perfume of my choice. It was a lovely idea and a delightful way to enable patrons to choose the fragrance that worked for them. I resolved to try the ten fragrances over the holidays and then buy the bottle of my choice when I returned to London again.
Off with Jonas to the Museum of London:
The next stop on my agenda was a quick nip into the Museum of London in order to see the golden coach of the Mayor of London before it disappears for the next four years for renovation. Jonas, Raquel's 10-year old son, was keen to go with me and it was with him for company, that we bid goodbye to his mother and set off by bus and then Tube for the Museum.
We arrived at the Barbican soon enough and walked the short distance to the Museum of London. We had a very nice time getting there and after inquiring exactly where the coach was, we set off to find it. While there, I had the most bizarre experience. I requested a 20-Something to take a picture of Jonas and me standing by the coach. She told me that she was busy (she had been gazing at a display and doing nothing else!) and could not. I thanked her and said that I would try to find someone else. She replied that she did not like my attitude! I should have realized then that there was probably something wrong with her (mental illness being such a silent affliction!). I responded, "My attitude? I'm not sure I know what you mean." To which she suddenly flared up and said, "You're flirting with me! Stop flirting with me!" Okay, that was it. I had caught a nut job in full throttle. "Flirting with you?" I laughed. "Don't kid yourself." To which, she let out a stream of foul language despite that fact that I had a little boy with me. "Mind your language." I said. "You are in the company of a child." And with that, we walked away and found another sweet family whom we then requested to take our picture. Poor Jonas, the most timid little boy in the world, was shaking and it was all I could do to calm him down and tell him to try to overlook an unhappy woman who was probably having a bad day.
Off to NYU:
From the Museum, we took the Tube and made our way together to Tottenham Court Road so that I could get to my office at NYU where my suitcase and other belongings had been stashed. I was keen to get a hold of my computer and I carried it back with me to Raquel's home to which I was then headed. Jonas, by then, had grown deeply exhausted and adamant about going back home. The entire morning had been too much for him to take and our encounter with the crazy lady, had ruined his mood.
So back on the Tube we went to Maida Vale and by 3.00 pm, the exhausted Jonas just flopped on the sofa with the telly while I sat with Raquel and chatted.
Making a Gingerbread House:
I was quite content to spend the evening at home with my friends and when Jonas invited me to make a Gingerbread House with him from the kit that his mother had bought him, I was delighted to comply. Not only would it allow me to continue to spend time with a kid I love, but it was the first-ever gingerbread house I would ever make and I was keen to give it a go. The next couple of hours flew by as Raquel got a spot of dinner together for us in the dining room. We sat down to eat pasta, meatballs, a delicious salad and cheese and crackers while having a nice chat with the entire family in attendance. And before we knew it, the day had ended and it was time to hit the sack.
Until tomorrow, cheerio...
An Early Start:
Ever since I had arrived in London in late-July, I had been promising myself that I would attend Sunday Mass at Westminster Cathedral--the Catholic Church on Victoria Road (not to be confused with the more-famous Anglican Westminster Abbey). This would be the day I would go to the 9.00 am Mass--which involved leaving my friend Raquel's place at 8.15 to make it in time.
Mass and Christmas Market at Westminster Cathedral:
Mass was wonderful. There was a visiting delegation of people from Italy and a bunch of Filipinos who conduct the services. I received Communion and at the end of Mass left, quite unexpectedly, to poke my head into the Christmas Market that they said was on in a Hall behind the church. I ended up finding about four DVDs of the British TV shows I have been collecting as well as two scented candles and with those items in a bag, I hurried off to meet my friend Roz for breakfast.
Breakfast at Dominique Ansel Bakery at Victoria:
My friend Roz and I had agreed that when I returned from my travels in Israel and France, we would meet for breakfast at Dominique Ansel's Bakery at Victoria. Raquel and Jonas also decided to join us there and as I stood waiting for a bus to get me there from Victoria Road, I hoped I would not be late. I called Roz to tell her that I was running late and then along came a bus. I was at the spot at 10.20 only to find that Raquel and Jonas had arrived there and that Roz was keeping our spot in the line.
As is pretty well-known by now, Dominique Ansel, the Parisien patisieur took New York by storm when he invented the Cronut--a cross between a croissant and a donut. I had eaten one of these the day I took the coach from Victoria to Leeds and I had loved every last crumb of it. This time, with a Hazelnut Croissant in my hand, I have to admit that it was not quite as good as I expected. Roz and Raquel were also quite disappointed. Raquel found (as I did) that the hazelnut flavor was much too mild and Roz simply felt that there was too much going on with the concoction. With hot chocolate and coffee to wash our treats down, we had a lovely chat and then left. Roz said goodbye to us as she left for her next appointment after wishing us both Very Happy Holidays.
Off to Jo Loves:
Being on Elizabeth Street, I had decided that I would pop into Jo Loves, the perfume store on the same street and that I would take Raquel there with me and introduce her to the place. It was packed. I could barely get a foot in but somehow Raquel, Jonas and I managed to squeeze our way in and try out some of their offerings. I finally left with their ten perfume spritz sampler which would allow me to try them all and then buy a bottle of the perfume of my choice. It was a lovely idea and a delightful way to enable patrons to choose the fragrance that worked for them. I resolved to try the ten fragrances over the holidays and then buy the bottle of my choice when I returned to London again.
Off with Jonas to the Museum of London:
The next stop on my agenda was a quick nip into the Museum of London in order to see the golden coach of the Mayor of London before it disappears for the next four years for renovation. Jonas, Raquel's 10-year old son, was keen to go with me and it was with him for company, that we bid goodbye to his mother and set off by bus and then Tube for the Museum.
We arrived at the Barbican soon enough and walked the short distance to the Museum of London. We had a very nice time getting there and after inquiring exactly where the coach was, we set off to find it. While there, I had the most bizarre experience. I requested a 20-Something to take a picture of Jonas and me standing by the coach. She told me that she was busy (she had been gazing at a display and doing nothing else!) and could not. I thanked her and said that I would try to find someone else. She replied that she did not like my attitude! I should have realized then that there was probably something wrong with her (mental illness being such a silent affliction!). I responded, "My attitude? I'm not sure I know what you mean." To which she suddenly flared up and said, "You're flirting with me! Stop flirting with me!" Okay, that was it. I had caught a nut job in full throttle. "Flirting with you?" I laughed. "Don't kid yourself." To which, she let out a stream of foul language despite that fact that I had a little boy with me. "Mind your language." I said. "You are in the company of a child." And with that, we walked away and found another sweet family whom we then requested to take our picture. Poor Jonas, the most timid little boy in the world, was shaking and it was all I could do to calm him down and tell him to try to overlook an unhappy woman who was probably having a bad day.
Off to NYU:
From the Museum, we took the Tube and made our way together to Tottenham Court Road so that I could get to my office at NYU where my suitcase and other belongings had been stashed. I was keen to get a hold of my computer and I carried it back with me to Raquel's home to which I was then headed. Jonas, by then, had grown deeply exhausted and adamant about going back home. The entire morning had been too much for him to take and our encounter with the crazy lady, had ruined his mood.
So back on the Tube we went to Maida Vale and by 3.00 pm, the exhausted Jonas just flopped on the sofa with the telly while I sat with Raquel and chatted.
Making a Gingerbread House:
I was quite content to spend the evening at home with my friends and when Jonas invited me to make a Gingerbread House with him from the kit that his mother had bought him, I was delighted to comply. Not only would it allow me to continue to spend time with a kid I love, but it was the first-ever gingerbread house I would ever make and I was keen to give it a go. The next couple of hours flew by as Raquel got a spot of dinner together for us in the dining room. We sat down to eat pasta, meatballs, a delicious salad and cheese and crackers while having a nice chat with the entire family in attendance. And before we knew it, the day had ended and it was time to hit the sack.
Until tomorrow, cheerio...
Final Day in Paris and Return to London.
December 10, 2016, Saturday: Paris-London
Final Day in Paris and Return to
London.
And so the day finally dawned when I
would leave the City of Lights and get back to London. I awoke at 6.30 am,
spent an hour catching up through wifi on email and Twitter and at 7.30 am, I
began to look for breakfast. For the last couple of days, I had been trying to
finish up all the food in my fridge and so I ate bits and bobs and went down to
the vending machine for a mocha latte. I began packing right after as my flight
from Charles de Gaulle airport was at 6.05 pm. This basically left me with the
whole day to go where I pleased when my packing was done. But I was really so
exhausted after all the walking I had done for the past week, that I simply
stayed local. After accomplishing a great deal of packing, I took a break for a
shower and then left my place to take the tram to Stade Charlety, the next
stop, to get some chocolate from Franprix for the friends with whom I would be
staying in London for a few days. Takign the tram ticked off the last To-Do
item on my Paris List!
Back in my place with my boxes of
chocolates, I continued packing, got rid of my garbage, emptied my fridge and
put the last bits of my food together in a makeshift lunch that included the
last of my smoked salmon, salad leaves, salad dressing, blue cheese and mixed
nuts with honey-ginger yoghurt and macarons for dessert. By 1.30 pm, I washed
up my lunch things and returned them to the kitchen (plate, bowl, glass, cutlery).
I cleaned up, took pictures of my room and by 1.45, I was down at the Reception
and returning my keys and saying goodbye to the place I have now called home
twice in my life. I thanked them profusely downstairs for providing such a safe,
comfortable and reasonably-priced space.
From the metro station, I took the
RER (B) directly to Charles de Gaulle airport where I arrived at exactly 3.00pm
for my 6.00 pm Air France flight to London. I arrived at Heathrow at 7.30 pm
local time and taking the Tube, I alighted at Warwick Avenue where I reached at
about 10.00 pm. I walked to my friend Raquel’s dupleix flat where her husband
Chris came to give me a hand with my baggage expecting me to have an outsized
case after three weeks away from London. As it turned out, it amazed them all
to realize that I had traveled with just a small backpack.
Raquel very kindly fixed me a bowl
of her pasta and meatballs and after a long free-wheeling chinwag, I gave them
the gifts I had brought for them (Fragonard perfume for Raquel, chocolates for
Chris and Jonas) and then called it a night.
It was great to be back in London (which is
like a second home to me) and to feel that easy sense of familiarity—although,
to be perfectly fair, within a day of being in Paris, it had felt like home to
be as well!
Until
tomorrow, cheerio…
Exhausting Second-Last Day in Paris: Parc Montsourris, Eiffel Tower, La Defence, Sacre-Coeur, the Louvre.
December 9, 2016, Friday: Paris
An Exhausting Second-Last Day in
Paris—Eiffel Tower, La Defence, Sacre-Coeur and The Louvre
Awaking at Cite-Universitaire to the
sound of the tram bell on Boulevarde Jourdan, I showered, dressed and decided
to try to find a coffee nearer at hand than the café of the complex (which was
a five minute walk away in the adjoining building). The Receptionist on duty,
the lovely Morgane, showed me how to use the vending machine and for 65 cents,
I got myself a café latte and walked with it and my Pierre Herme croissant
Poire William across the street into Parc Montsourris. This venture ticked
another item off my To-Do List as I had promised myself that I would try to
find the time for a ramble in this park in which I have spent many a lazy hour
in past years.
Breakfast in Parc Montsourris:
There are not a lot of visitors in
Parc Montsourris at 8.30 am on a late autumn morning. The decidedly nippy
weather does not attract too many—and not on a working morning. However, there
were a few dog-walkers around, a few energetic joggers and a couple of Asian
men doing tai chi exercises! I munched on my croissant and sipped my coffee
while my ankles were sniffed by curious dogs. It was great to start the day in
this serene fashion as it grew frenzied as it progressed for I was trying too
hard to fit in a whole lot of major sights into my second-last day—in order to
leave tomorrow free for re-packing and closing shop in my room at
Cite-Universitaire.
On the Metro to Climb the Eiffel
Tower:
My main aim of the day was to make
it to the summit of the Eiffel Tower—another first-time experience for me.
Every time I have been to Paris in the past, the serpentine lines have put me
off trying to get to the top. Since it was winter, I presumed there’d be fewer
tourists and that the wait would be shorter.
I rode the No. 6 metro train towards
Charles de Gaulle/L’Etoile and got off at Bir-Hakeim. If the name sounds
familiar, it is the spot in Afro-French history notorious for one of the most
important French battles ever fought during World War II. There is information
about this battle on the platform of the metro station (which is overground).
Viewing the Jewish Memorials of the
Velodrome d’Hiver (the Vel d’Hiv):
The metro stop of Bir-Hakeim is where
you get off to see the Eiffel Tower. But it is also where the notorious
Velodrome d’Hiver once stood. It was a stadium for cycling tournaments and it
had once attracted thousands of Parisians to its crowded stands. During World
War II, after Paris was occupied by the Nazis and the Jewish purge began,
Parisian police began rounding up Jews from the Marais and bussing them to the
Vel d’Hiv where they were held for five days with barely any food or water. A
number of children and elderly Jews perished here even before they were further
bussed to Drancy or Beaune from where they were deported to the concentration
camps. I had become aware of the Vel d’Hiv and its association with World War
II history after reading the wonderful novel by Tatiana de Rosney called Sarah’s Key—of which a rather wonderful
movie has also been made. (It is, in fact, a text in the course I teach on ‘Migration,
Marginalization and Partition’ at NYU).
Descending from the metro platform
in the elevator to ground level, I asked the staff at the ticket window where I
could find the memorials. I had already visited one of them before—it was then
a large marble slab crowned with wreaths on the main road. But when I got there
this time, I found the entire area cordoned off behind construction partitions.
On reading the information available around it, I discovered that a major
renovation project is currently on and that the small memorial is going to
become a most impressive spot with a visitor center and other such monuments
added to it. It will probably be finished in the next couple of years.
However, the ticketing clerk also
directed me across the main road to the Quai de Grenelle where another monument
to the fallen Jews is to be found. I followed his instructions, crossed the
street and found myself in a small strip of garden—rather forlorn at this time
of year—with a very large and impressive sculpture at the end of the pathway on
the Isle de Grenelle (the third island in Paris about which not many people
know. It is the same island that also contains a miniature version of the
Statue of Liberty). I walked along the pathway and reached the sculpture which
depicts a Jewish family of varied ages sitting in despair around their meagre
belongings with little knowledge of the fact that they were being moved towards
their deaths. I found the monument deeply moving.
Off to the Eiffel Tower:
Having ticked another item off my To-Do
List, I walked quickly for another ten minutes towards the Eiffel Tower. As I
had expected, the line was barely there. I reached at about 10.30 and stood in
line to get a ticket for about 15 minutes and for another five minutes to get
into the high-speed elevators that whisk you to the top for 17 euros. Had I
come in the summer, I would have waited in line for at least two hours!
I have to say that I was excited about getting to the top of the Eiffel
Tower. I have always loved this monument, the strange vision of Charles Eiffel
who thought it okay to create a great wrought-iron tower on the banks of the
Seine that would rival every other building in height and prominence. Its wonderful design fascinates me and I love
the decorative work around its various tiers. Going up, however, is altogether
another experience and I loved every second of it.
The ride up in the elevator is
itself quite chest-heaving for you rise to unbelievable heights so quickly that
you are likely to feel a twinge of vertigo—I certainly did—until you adjust to
the sudden difference. You will also find your ears popping at the difference
in air pressure. There are also stairs, of course, and you can climb up all the
way to the top—but I was not built of such stern stuff (at least not after
having climbed to the top of Notre-Dame and the Arc de Triomphe on this
visit!). When you get off at the first level, you are amazed at the sights you
see. Sadly, although there was no rain, the air pollution in Paris had caused a
hazy smog to settle over the city. The pictures I got were, therefore, not the
best. But as I circumnavigated the city, I saw every monument and could pick it
out so clearly: the Dome of Les Invalides Church, the mountain (Montmartre)
topped by the Church of Sacre-Coeur, the many bridges over the Seine, etc.
There are restaurants and souvenir stores and all sorts of attractions to keep
the visitor busy in addition to the thrill of taking pictures or posing for
selfies against the backdrop of Baron Haussmann’s glorious city.
When you are done on this floor, you
take the elevator again to another level which allows you to climb to the
summit. Here you can see the office that Charles Eiffel used when the tower was
under construction. It is the same office in which he entertained a visitor in
the form of a fellow-inventor Thomas Alva Edison of the USA who used the tower
and its height to test his own wireless and radio inventions. The view from
this level is even more scintillating for the mountain on which Sacre-Coeur
stands is dwarfed. You also can see the Arc de Triomphe very clearly as well as
the avenues that radiate from out of it to form a star (the Etoile) after which
the entire square (or circle) is named. You can see the island of Grenelle and
Lady Liberty holding aloft her torch. You can see the Palais de Chaillot with
its lovely classical semi-circular design. You can see the Musee de Quai Blanly
designed again by the famed Jean Nouvel only a few blocks away with its
interesting glass walls and its lovely landscaped garden. Basically, from this
height, you can see everything and you can see it from an entirely novel and
quite incredible perspective. So, in every respect, I was completely floored by
my first-time rising to the Eiffel Tower’s summit and it was with difficulty that
I dragged myself away after using the facilities on the lower level again. It
was 12.30 pm by the time I left the premises after taking a few pictures.
Off to La Defence:
Instead of walking towards the metro
station at Bir-Hakeim, I decided to cross the river Seine just in front of the
Eiffel Tower and walk past the gardens of the Palais de Chaillot towards the
metro station at Trocadero. From there, I took the metro to La Defence, a
rather longish journey (but free today as a result of Paris’ continued
pollution) as I wanted to see the gigantic contemporary arch that has been
built there, up close and personal. It was very easy to get there and,
basically, all I expected was to see the Arch and to take a few pictures.
What I did not expect to find and what
I did see was a huge Christmas Market that had sprouted up in the courtyard
that is surrounded by a concrete jungle—for La Defence is similar to London’s
Canary Wharf or New York’s Financial District. It is a glass and concrete
jungle filled with banks and other financial institutions and surrounded by
upscale stores that cater to the heavy-walleted. Naturally, I cannot pass by a
Christmas Market without browsing through it and since it was lunch-time, I was
fortunate to be offered a lot of tasters—cheese, honey, nougat, sausages. It
was lovely to nibble as I had begun to feel hunger pangs. After I had spent
about half an hour taking in the sight of all these edible goodies and having
passers-by take my picture against the towering arch, I got on to the metro
again and set off for my next destination: the Church of Sacre-Coeur at
Montmartre.
Visiting Montmartre:
On past visits to Paris, I have
thoroughly scoured Montmartre which is rich in artistic history—many
Impressionist painters had either made their homes in the area of had hung out
here (as Picasso did at the Lapin Agile,
a local bar). On this occasion, with less time to linger, I made it quickly out
of the metro station at Abbesse (which I always admire for its original Art
Nouveau-style arched iron-work at the metro stairwell) and followed signs along
Rue Yvonne Le Tac to the funicular train. Indeed, on past visits, I have
actually climbed up and down the lovely set of stairs that leads to the top of
the mountain. This time, I was content to do it the easier way.
The funicular train, which is
ordinarily accessible by a metro ticket, was also free today. Luckily, there
were not a lot of people and although one of the trains was out of service
(annoying!), the ride to the top did not involve a wait of longer than 20
minutes. They were, however, 20 minutes on my feet—so my fatigue levels were
also growing consistently as the day progressed.
Visiting The Church of Sacre-Coeur:
Once I got off the funicular train,
I made my way towards the main entrance of the church as that was my first
priority. There were lots of people milling around the steps that provide
strategic picture ops as the entire city of Paris seems to lie at your feet. I
had my own picture taken and then began the ascent to the church entrance.
Mass was going on when I entered the
church—so I crept around as quietly as I could, stayed on the last pew and said
a prayer. The altar is remarkable for its mosaic work and its lovely sculptures
of Christ. There was a crib up already—even though it was only early December.
A few minutes later, I was out of the church and making a right out of the exit
towards the Place du Tertre.
The Place du Tertre is the biggest
attraction of the area. It is a cobbled square in which artists take up
residence to paint portraits, do caricatures or present you with pen and ink
drawings of your likeness. Through the years, almost all members of our family
have had their likeness sketched here and I have framed versions of them in our
home in Connecticut. The square is surrounded by restaurants and eateries that
spill on to the pavement during the summer in the typical French concept of the
café-trottoir. However, in winter the
entire atmosphere is different. The large trees have lost their foliage and
rise bare towards the skies. There are fewer artists, fewer people and the
pavement chairs and tables were nowhere to be seen. I walked around the area
and felt somewhat forlorn by its emptiness. There was no reason to linger any
longer although the souvenir shops were tempting. A few minutes later, I walked
as briskly as I could across the cobbled streets and arrived at the stop for
the funicular train from where I made my way down quite easily.
Since there was a Fragonard shop right at the funicular
train stop, I popped into it to try to find a particular item I was seeking: a
small set of ten perfumes. Alas, it has been discontinued—all they carry now
are the ten eau de toilettes (much lighter versions) of their signature
fragrances.
Off to the Louvre:
With three major items ticked off my
To-Do List for the day, it was only left for me to make a visit to the Musee
Louvre. It was about 4.30 pm and I knew that since the museum is open on
Fridays until 9.45 pm, I had several hours ahead of me to view its treasures. I
have, of course, been to the Louvre several times—and I do have my favorite
canvasses to which I say Hello each time I am there. I also adore the building
itself—the gorgeous confection of a Palace that the Bourbon kings added to as
they multiplied their wealth and their desire for luxury. The galleries
themselves are so splendidly decorated that most of the time I am taking in
their treasures rather than the stacks of paintings, sculpture and decorative
arts that actually make up this diverse and quite overwhelming collection.
Emerging out of the metro through a
quite different way this time (underground, through a large upscale mall), I
arrived at the base under the marvelous glass triangular canopy created by the
Chinese-American architect I.M. Pei. I headed straight for the cloak room, left
my bag there, then headed to the ticket office where my Met ID card got me free
entry into the museum—a huge bonus! With the museum’s floor plan in my hands, I
tried to find my way through the three wings that comprise this humongous
space: the Denton, Sully and Richelieu wings.
So here is what I managed to cover
on this trip, beginning my wandering at 5.00 pm.
1. Winged Victory of Samotrace
(classical sculpture believed to be figurehead on ship’s prow).
2.
The
Borghese Athlete.
3. The Battle of Romano
by Paolo Ucello
4. Portrait of Grandfather and
Grandson by Ghiurlandaio.
5. The Visitation
by Sandro Botticelli
6. St. John the Baptist
by Leonardo da Vince.
7. Madonna of the Rocks
by L da Vini.
8. Portrait of Italian Female
Aristocrat by L da Vinci
9. Madonna with St. Anne and Jesus
by L da Vinci
10. Wedding Feast at Cana
by Paolo Veroneze
11. Mona Lisa
by Leonardo da Vinci
12. Odalisque by
Titian
13. Coronation of Napoleon
by Jacque-Louis David
14. Portrait of Female French
Aristocrat by J.L David
15. Murder of Horatio
by J.L. David
16. Rape of the Sabines
by J.L. David
17. Crown of St. Louis
(This is a replica). I adore the gallery in which this is displayed as it is
stacked with portraits of French worthies from the Baroque period.
18. Crown of Josephine
19. Michelangelo Showing the Pope his
Plan for St. Peter’s Basilica.
20. The Seated Scribe
21. Venus da Milo
22. One
of the Parthenon Marbles
23. Dying Slave
by Michelangelo
24. Liberty Leading the People
by Delacroix
25. Raft of the Medusa
by Gericault
26. Two Sisters Readings
by Renoir
27. The Astronomer
by Vermeer
28. Lace Maker
by Vermeer
29. Lute Player
by Franz Hals
30. Self-Portrait
by Rembrandt
31. Bathsheba
by Rembrandt
Needless
to say, in addition to seeing all these highlights and more, I took loads of
pictures of the interiors, especially the ceilings as their decoration is quite
lavish. Also as darkness fell over the city, the Louvre was illuminated with the
loveliest, softest lighting, I took many pictures of the courtyards of the
Palace of the Louvre—but none did justice to their beauty.
I
was ready to collapse with fatigue by the time I finished at 8. 30 pm. I also
had the good fortune of meeting an Indian art scholar called Usha Sharma who
told me that she teaches courses on Indian Art in Paris. I hastened out of the
museum and took the metro to get myself back to my place where I reached at
9.30 and went straight to bed.
My
second-last day in Paris had been chocobloc—but what a blast I had! As it turned
out, every item of my To-Do and To-Taste List had been covered! I could pay
myself on the back as I fell asleep for tomorrow, all I have to do is pack and clear
up his room and check out.
A demain…
Thursday, December 29, 2016
First-Time Forays into Islamic Paris...and Other Attractions
December 8, 2016, Thursday: Paris
First-Time Forays into Islamic Paris…and
other Attractions
For some odd reason, I had a rather
late start today—probably was not woken up by the tram bell outside my window.
A 7.45 am rising is late by my standards. I had a Pierre Herme Ispahan
croissant for brekkie with orange juice, showered and got dressed. I left my
place at 10. 45 after carefully drawing up a route that would take me to parts
of Paris into which I had never before ventured.
My first stop of the day was at the Jardin des Plantes (Botanical Garden)
and the reason for my visit was the magnificent novel by Anthony Doerr called All The Light You Cannot See, winner of
the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction and the best novel I had read in 2014. The
initial section of the novel is set here in the Botanical Garden in general and
the Museum of Natural History in particular as it is where the museum is
located. The father of the female protagonist of the novel, Marie-Laure, is one
of the curators of the museum and his task is to keep the keys of the museum
safe as well as a fictional stone that is usually on view at the Museum of
Natural History. As an old woman and a survivor of World War II, Marie-Laure
returns to Paris and makes her home close to the Museum and to the Botanical
Garden where she passes most evenings in the company of her grand-son.
Because I had been so taken by this
splendid novel and because I had never been to the Botanical Garden, I decided
that I would visit it this time round as well as check out the Museum of
Natural History. I was completely floored by the Botanical Garden. It was
huge—extensive and well-manicured. There are alles of linden trees (which, because it was nearly winter, were
stripped of their foliage) that provide wonderful walking paths through the
garden. The alles are lined on both
sides by glass conservatories and by a number of buildings. I soon discovered
that those buildings comprise the Museum of Natural History as it is not one
building but about 12—scattered all over Paris, although about six of them surround
the alles. I took several pictures of
the garden and the conservatories and then made my way into the Museum of
Paleontology where a number of dinosaur skeletons attract large numbers of
children. Unfortunately, each of the museums has a different entry fee—there is
no single fee to cover them all. By the time one sees them all, one has spent a
small fortune. They would not recognize my Met ID card and I did not wish to
spend too much time in any one of them. I decided, therefore, to merely poke my
head into the Museum of Mineralogy where the fictitious stone would have been
stored and to take a couple of pictures there.
Then, I left the museum and the
Botanical Garden and went on to the next attraction on my list—the
rarely-visited Grand Mosque of Paris.
To
enter the Grand Mosque in Paris is to enter into an altogether different world.
It is hard to believe that you are in Europe—you would think you were somewhere
in Northern Africa: in Algeria, Tunisia or Morocco (artisans from these
countries had been specially commissioned to undertake the job). The mosque is
large and beautiful. It has all the characteristics of Islamic architecture
plus gorgeous decorative tile-work that is reminiscent of the Al-Hambra in
Granada, Spain. The central courtyard concept is in force with rooms radiating
out from a very lovely garden that fills one with a sense of spiritual
serenity. There is a towering minaret in the North African style. Visitors are
free to wander around anywhere—there is a really large hall with a central
fountain with all sorts of decorative tile work. The only room you that
non-Muslims cannot enter is the Prayer Room itself which contains the Mihrab.
Since it was not a Friday, it was rather quiet at the mosque but a few worshippers
were around, both in the corridors and in the Prayer Room (you can get a quick
glimpse from the main door). I took so many pictures as I was completely
enthralled by this unusual structure right in the middle of Paris—it was so
hard for me to believe that right across the street was the 19th
century Botanical Gardens. It really is a quite distinctive place to visit and
I am glad I went.
The mosque has a restaurant attached
that offers Middle Eastern and North African cuisine such as mezzes and tagines. It is set in a lovely shady garden (if you prefer to sit
outdoors) or inside in a space that resembles a souk or a casbah. As I
said, everything about this place is enchanting—even if you are not a Muslim
(perhaps especially if you are not a Muslim).
Co-incidentally, although I had not
actually planned for it, I went from one Islamic space to the next—but from the
sacred to the secular. When I lived in Paris, a few years ago, I used to pass
in the bus by this striking building that I realized was designed by the
renowned French architect, Jean Nouvel. It is on most tourist maps of Paris,
but somehow I had never found the time to explore it. This visit would remedy
the omission.
It was a twenty minute walk from the
Mosque to the Institute which is sweetly located on the banks of the Seine. It
is a nine-story structure that looks like a cube. It has a huge Omani dhow
right outside it—a gift from Oman whose government has sponsored the special
exhibition on right now called ‘Sea-farers of the Mediterranean.’ I was
fortunate that my Met ID was recognized here. I was handed different ticket
stubs to get to the different floors, on each of which they was a different
exhibition. Two floors contain objects that remain permanently in place—they
range from illuminated Korans to ancient pottery. I also saw a special
exhibition on the Bhiksha Oasis which is in the North African country of
Algeria. The ‘Sea-Farers of the Mediterranean’ exhibition was splendid. It
carried vast amounts of material on a number of countries, explorers and
navigators from the Islamic world whose courage and vision opened up the area
to the rest of the world.
In-between seeing the floors, I sat
on a bench and ate my smoked salmon baguette. I stayed for another hour as I
rode up and down the glass elevators inside the building which allowed me to
admire the wonderful architectural work of Nouvel with its emphasis on
thousands of pipes that form sharp angles in the interior or the building. The
top-most floor is an empty viewing terrace with a small café attached to it. It
does, of course, offer lovely views of Paris and of the Seine and I took them
all in with deep pleasure. When I was done, I walked out of the Institute,
quire pleased that I have covered yet another item on my To-Do List.
From this point on, I decided to go
out in search of a French beret together with one of the woolen caps that are
now sporting fur pom-poms. My idea was to detach one of the pompoms and sew it
on to one of the berets in imitation of a favorite hat I had once owned but
which I had lost, much to my sorrow. This specific need involved getting to the
side streets around the Cathedral of Notre-Dame where the inexpensive souvenir
stores sell the sort of item I was seeking. It took me absolute ages and a
great deal of sweat equity to track down the hats I wanted at the right price.
After scouring at least half a dozen stores, I found exactly what I wanted and
couldn’t have been happier.
Since I was so close to the Ile de Saint
Louis, I had to go in search of some ice-cream at Berthillon. And after I had my treat, I stepped into a cookie store
where I received a few more goodies for sampling. Then, on passing a candy
shop, I stepped in, on impulse, to buy myself a marron glace (glazed chestnut) as this is a French specialty that
is very popular at Christmastime and which I had never tasted. Keen to see what
all the fuss was about and wondering why these little confections are so
expensive, I bought myself one and was completely surprised—both at the taste
and the texture of it—it was spongy, not hard (and I am still wondering what
all the fuss is about!). But then there you have it! Another item ticked off my
To-Taste List!
Off to the Bastille for a Croque Monsieur:
Also on my To-Eat List before I left
Paris was a really good Croque Monsieur—which,
as most people know, is a ham and cheese sandwich that is dipped in a Mornay
sauce and grilled. I have loved Croque Monsieurs
since I first tasted them, about thirty years ago. And on every trip to France,
I make sure I eat at least one. When I lived in Paris, I made them at home very
frequently for it is the wonderful. combination of smoked ham and Swiss cheese
(found most flavorfully in France) that make the best Croques.
Well, having done my research on the
internet (to find the best Croque
Monsieur in Paris), I was directed to the Cafe des Phares which is right at the Place de la Bastille. So I
went on the metro from ‘St. Mich’ (as St. Michel is known) to Bastille and as
soon as I emerged from the metro, I spied the restaurant across the wide
circle. I made a beeline for it and
settled myself down at a table and gave my order for a Croque Monsieur and a café au
lait—it would be a very early dinner.
My Croque was wonderful. It was best when it was freshly served to me
and since I love eating my food piping hot, I did not wait too long for it to
cool down. As it cooled, it got less and less succulent—in fact, it started to
get rubbery as the melted fondue-like cheese hardened. Served with a salad and
my coffee, it was a great meal. As you can see, I seem to have lost my
inhibitions altogether about dining alone in restaurants. The French seem to
have no problem with it at all and seem not in the slightest bit surprised when
I request a table for one and place a single order. As it turned out, at the
next table was seated an African-American couple who, lost little time in
getting friendly with me. We had a very nice conversation. He happened to be a
former restauranteur who has lived in Paris for the past forty years and she,
his friend, turned out to someone in international finance who was taking a
year off to travel and had made Paris a temporary base. One of the best things
about being a solo sojourner is that you make friends with all types of people
who reach out and include you in conversation—so that you are never really completely
or uncomfortably alone.
A little while later, after clearing
my bill, I took the metro from Bastille and got back home. As I had a very
early dinner and had sat up communicating on my computer to so many people, I
had myself a late-night snack of salad and yoghurt and then fell asleep just
past midnight.
A demain...
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