On Saturday, Miles had a horse ride in the Luxembourg Gardens. It was his first time on horseback so we made a little video as the ponies were lead around the park. We've added it to his blog - hopefully it will inspire him to do some more blogging.
To watch the video, click on the link to Mileage on the column on the right. And the video is much better if you leave it small - it was made on the phone so the resolution isn't great.
Monday, November 26, 2012
Friday, November 23, 2012
The Love Locks of Paris
There are 37 bridges crossing the Seine. I don't have plans to try to cross all of them - although we have already managed to cross a number of them many times.
My favourite this week is Pont des Arts, which I hadn't crossed until Monday when we decided to visit the Louvre. It's a pedestrian bridge linking the Institut de France (located at the top end of Rue de Seine) and the Louvre's back end. And it twinkles like a disco ball.
It twinkles because it is covered in 'love locks', padlocks locked onto the bridge in honour of the one you love. According to Wikipedia, love locks began to appear on European bridges in the early 2000s. Some months ago, I read an article about their appearance on the Sydney Harbour Bridge. The Mayor of Paris would seem to have succumbed to the inevitable and, after trying to remove the locks in 2010, has let them stay. The bouquinistes (second-hand booksellers) on the banks of the Seine even sell padlocks.
The idea is that you write the name of your love on the lock, attach it to the bridge, and throw the key in the river below. Tres romantique! Miles, ever practical, wondered what happens if you stop loving the person on your lock. Well, many have got around that by using padlocks with combination locks. I suspect some people throw one key in the river and keep a spare.
Locks are now dedicated to families and are spreading up the lamp posts too.
And as we were crossing the bridge on Monday, there was more than one couple plighting their troth with yet another lock, and recording the moment on their cameras.
Ah, Paris, city of love!
My favourite this week is Pont des Arts, which I hadn't crossed until Monday when we decided to visit the Louvre. It's a pedestrian bridge linking the Institut de France (located at the top end of Rue de Seine) and the Louvre's back end. And it twinkles like a disco ball.
It twinkles because it is covered in 'love locks', padlocks locked onto the bridge in honour of the one you love. According to Wikipedia, love locks began to appear on European bridges in the early 2000s. Some months ago, I read an article about their appearance on the Sydney Harbour Bridge. The Mayor of Paris would seem to have succumbed to the inevitable and, after trying to remove the locks in 2010, has let them stay. The bouquinistes (second-hand booksellers) on the banks of the Seine even sell padlocks.
The idea is that you write the name of your love on the lock, attach it to the bridge, and throw the key in the river below. Tres romantique! Miles, ever practical, wondered what happens if you stop loving the person on your lock. Well, many have got around that by using padlocks with combination locks. I suspect some people throw one key in the river and keep a spare.
Locks are now dedicated to families and are spreading up the lamp posts too.
And as we were crossing the bridge on Monday, there was more than one couple plighting their troth with yet another lock, and recording the moment on their cameras.
Ah, Paris, city of love!
Sunday, November 18, 2012
Outside Our Door
This is our door - our blue door. The door is squashed between a spectacles shop (there are lots of those in the neighbourhood) and a menswear shop (lots of those too).
The three windows above our blue door belong to our apartment.
If you look out our windows, you can see the wonderful candle shop across the road, Cire Trudon. It's glorious ... but I'm a bit scared to go in. We are in a very expensive part of town and they have been making candles since the 17th century. But it's very tempting. Yesterday, they changed the windows to get ready for Christmas. But you can still see the candle rainbow in the back of the store.
If you stand on the street with your back to our door and look diagonally across the road to your right, you'll find our favourite boulangerie and patisserie in the whole of France - Gerard Mulot. The tarte citron is delicious but last night we ate 'sortileges' - a charm or spell or, in this case, a ball of chocolate-coated, chocolate mousse on a teeny tiny layer of vanilla sponge! The window display is also tres charmant!
Now, keeping your back to our door, turn your head to the left. Voila! C'est Senat - and behind that big building is the Luxembourg Gardens.
And if you walk towards the Senat, take the first street on your right, turning at the pharmacy. Voila! Saint Sulpice, whose church bells we can hear on Sunday mornings.
PS The pharmacy keeps us up-to-date with the temperature (see the green cross in the top right corner above). 10 degrees on Thursday, quite balmy. Yesterday it barely reached 7!
The three windows above our blue door belong to our apartment.
If you look out our windows, you can see the wonderful candle shop across the road, Cire Trudon. It's glorious ... but I'm a bit scared to go in. We are in a very expensive part of town and they have been making candles since the 17th century. But it's very tempting. Yesterday, they changed the windows to get ready for Christmas. But you can still see the candle rainbow in the back of the store.
If you stand on the street with your back to our door and look diagonally across the road to your right, you'll find our favourite boulangerie and patisserie in the whole of France - Gerard Mulot. The tarte citron is delicious but last night we ate 'sortileges' - a charm or spell or, in this case, a ball of chocolate-coated, chocolate mousse on a teeny tiny layer of vanilla sponge! The window display is also tres charmant!
Now, keeping your back to our door, turn your head to the left. Voila! C'est Senat - and behind that big building is the Luxembourg Gardens.
And if you walk towards the Senat, take the first street on your right, turning at the pharmacy. Voila! Saint Sulpice, whose church bells we can hear on Sunday mornings.
PS The pharmacy keeps us up-to-date with the temperature (see the green cross in the top right corner above). 10 degrees on Thursday, quite balmy. Yesterday it barely reached 7!
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
Rankin, Rebus and Irn-Bru
I'm feeling a little bit haunted by Ian Rankin and particularly by Inspector John Rebus, the character for which Rankin is most famous.
Rankin appeared at the Cheltenham Literary Festival (the one I missed - see earlier post) and was quoted in the papers talking about how comics are the most difficult form of literature to write (apparently he wrote one after 'retiring' Rebus). But when we reached Edinburgh, Rebus was everywhere. Well, more accurately, the places Rebus goes in Rankin's 'tartan noir' crime novels were everywhere.
'Hey, we're in the Grassmarket!' I said on our very foggy Edinburgh walk.
'What's the Grassmarket?'
'No idea - but Rebus used to go there.' Of course, I couldn't remember whether he went there to have a whisky at the end of the working day or to investigate a crime when he shouldn't have been. There are a lot of Rebus books to carry in your head.
As we drove through Paris from Gare du Nord to our apartment, the word 'Rankin' kept catching my eye. It was on advertising posters on the Left Bank, seemingly everywhere. For Ian Rankin has just released his new Rebus novel, Standing in Another Man's Grave - which brings Rebus together with Rankin's new character, Malcolm Fox (of whom I'm growing rather fond).
Nothing, though, inspired thoughts of Rebus as much as discovering Irn-Bru - pronounced 'Iron Brew' as I learned at Loch Leven, where I also discovered Irn-Bru gelato. Pale, pale apricot and tasting like sherbet.
Irn-Bru is the drink Rebus always turns to when he's had too much whisky the night before. So in the spirit of culinary adventure, I decided to try some (note that I also ate black pudding and mussels (for the first time in about 25 years)).
Here it is - it's hard to believe that this violently orange soft drink has been Scotland's number one soft drink for decades.
According to the label, it's been 'Bru'd in Scotland to a secret recipe for over 100 years'. The ingredients include: carbonated water, sugar, citric acid, flavourings (including caffeine and Quinine), preservative (E211), colours (Sunset Yellow and Ponceau 4R), Ammonium Ferric Citrate.
Sounds delicious, huh? But please note that 'Sunset Yellow and Ponceau 4R: may have an adverse effect on activity and attention in children'!
This picture doesn't quite convey how outrageously, artificially orange the drink is. It looks to me like something you'd find in the mad scientist's laboratory, so much so that I had to work myself up to drinking it. It took a couple of days before I convinced myself to buy it - we were in Arbroath by that time.
And when I did finally drink it, Irn-Bru reminded me of something. Not oranges, or Fanta or any other soft drink you've ever tasted. What could it be? Jim had a taste. Yep, reminded him of something too. I had a bit more, and a bit more, and then I got it.
Irn-Bru tastes like BEROCCA! Did you know that Australians were among the first to claim Berocca as a hangover cure (the things you learn on the web)? Seems the Scots may have got there first with Irn-Bru - no wonder Rebus drinks it the morning after.
PS I tried to get a photo of the Rankin posters but by the time I thought to do it, this was the face decorating Paris - and the back of this week's Hello magazine. Recognise him?
Rankin appeared at the Cheltenham Literary Festival (the one I missed - see earlier post) and was quoted in the papers talking about how comics are the most difficult form of literature to write (apparently he wrote one after 'retiring' Rebus). But when we reached Edinburgh, Rebus was everywhere. Well, more accurately, the places Rebus goes in Rankin's 'tartan noir' crime novels were everywhere.
'Hey, we're in the Grassmarket!' I said on our very foggy Edinburgh walk.
'What's the Grassmarket?'
'No idea - but Rebus used to go there.' Of course, I couldn't remember whether he went there to have a whisky at the end of the working day or to investigate a crime when he shouldn't have been. There are a lot of Rebus books to carry in your head.
As we drove through Paris from Gare du Nord to our apartment, the word 'Rankin' kept catching my eye. It was on advertising posters on the Left Bank, seemingly everywhere. For Ian Rankin has just released his new Rebus novel, Standing in Another Man's Grave - which brings Rebus together with Rankin's new character, Malcolm Fox (of whom I'm growing rather fond).
Nothing, though, inspired thoughts of Rebus as much as discovering Irn-Bru - pronounced 'Iron Brew' as I learned at Loch Leven, where I also discovered Irn-Bru gelato. Pale, pale apricot and tasting like sherbet.
Irn-Bru is the drink Rebus always turns to when he's had too much whisky the night before. So in the spirit of culinary adventure, I decided to try some (note that I also ate black pudding and mussels (for the first time in about 25 years)).
Here it is - it's hard to believe that this violently orange soft drink has been Scotland's number one soft drink for decades.
According to the label, it's been 'Bru'd in Scotland to a secret recipe for over 100 years'. The ingredients include: carbonated water, sugar, citric acid, flavourings (including caffeine and Quinine), preservative (E211), colours (Sunset Yellow and Ponceau 4R), Ammonium Ferric Citrate.
Sounds delicious, huh? But please note that 'Sunset Yellow and Ponceau 4R: may have an adverse effect on activity and attention in children'!
This picture doesn't quite convey how outrageously, artificially orange the drink is. It looks to me like something you'd find in the mad scientist's laboratory, so much so that I had to work myself up to drinking it. It took a couple of days before I convinced myself to buy it - we were in Arbroath by that time.
And when I did finally drink it, Irn-Bru reminded me of something. Not oranges, or Fanta or any other soft drink you've ever tasted. What could it be? Jim had a taste. Yep, reminded him of something too. I had a bit more, and a bit more, and then I got it.
Irn-Bru tastes like BEROCCA! Did you know that Australians were among the first to claim Berocca as a hangover cure (the things you learn on the web)? Seems the Scots may have got there first with Irn-Bru - no wonder Rebus drinks it the morning after.
PS I tried to get a photo of the Rankin posters but by the time I thought to do it, this was the face decorating Paris - and the back of this week's Hello magazine. Recognise him?
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