The Marais: Almost Lost (The Marais, Not Me)

Wednesday, March 26. Irene comes today (13 euros/hour).

I set forth to carry my recyclable trash to the nearest outdoor yellow trashcan. The closest one I've found is near the metro station for Les Halles, so henceforth I can drop it when I'm on my way to class. (This apartment building is so small that there is room on the ground floor for only one trash can, unlike the building last fall which had a separate yellow bin for recyclable stuff and a third bin for glass bottles.) Yellow is the color here for recycling. I cannot bring myself to put the recyclable stuff in with the other trash.

I spend the afternoon exploring more of the 3rd arrondisement. The Marais is a fascinating area, filled with lovely buildings from the 2nd half of the 14th century through the 17th century, which the French call "hotel particuliar." This basically means an aristocratic residence and is not to be confused with the "Hotel de Ville" (town hall), the "Hotel-Dieu" (hospital) or, to take just one example, the Hotel Georges V !! "Hotel" is a very adaptable word in French.

The Marais was at one time the most fashionable part of the city until the end of the 17th century (hence the Place des Vosges which used to be known as the Place Royale) when things started shifting to the west (and the faubourg Saint Honore). After the French Revolution, the residences were abandoned and the whole area fell into decline. Many of the mansions barely escaped demolition and some did not. Unbelieveably, it wasn't until the 1960s that Paris came to its senses (thanks to preservation organizations) and recognized that The Marais, in spite of its derelict condition, was an historic and architectural goldmine.

I head down the rue des Francs Bourgeous into an area I haven't explored before. But first I make a detour into the Hotel de Coulanges (home of the Maison de l'Europe) to see the Jardin des Rosiers. This little garden is really tucked away; you have to actually go into the offices of the Maison de l'Europe and go out another door to find it. I just saw a sign and followed it!

Many of the "hotels" now have government functions. The Hotel d'Albret is occupied by the City of Paris Culture Department (how fitting!) and the Hotel Lamoignon houses the City of Paris History Librayr, part of the Bibliotheque Nationale. The Hotel de Soubise and Hotel de Rohan belong to the National Archives.

On the rue Payenne, I discover a small house which was the final home of the architect, Francois Mansart (not to be confused with his more flamboyant (architecturally-speaking) great-nephew, Jules Hardouin-Mansart of Versailles and Les Invalides fame). Francois, considered the father of the Mansard roof, built this "little" house in 1642 and died there in 1666 (so says the plaque on the wall). Also in this small street, one can see the "back" or garden side of the Hotel Donon, home of the Musee Cognac-Jay and the Hotel de Marle which houses the Swedish Cultural Center. At the end of the street, the Square Georges Cain is a lovely little park with a statue by Maillol in the center.

Down the rue du Parc Royal and the rue St Gilles and into the Jardin d'Ilot-Saint-Gilles-Grand-Veneur. Basically this is a large residential complex with a little garden with rose trellises in the center. Continue to wind around little streets and come to the rue Saint Claude (didn't know there was a Saint Claude - take a picture for my brother!). This whole area is filled with little art galleries. I pop into one, the Galerie Frank Elbaz which has an interesting exhibit - Tout En Noir: 8 black squares on the wall, each with an English phrase about "time" (time after time, out of time, just in time, on time, etc) and some egg cartons with eggs (presumably blown-out) all painted black. I always am fascinated by what passes for art. Up tiny rue Debellayme and I run into rue Vieille du Temple.

I'm back in familiar territory now and decide to continue down to the BHV to pick up a notebook. I'm staggered by a stunning display in a flower shop window and stop to take a picture. An older couple is also gawking at the display (upon closer inspection, it turns out they are silk flowers so I am less impressed) and they start talking to me. (This comes about because the husband is telling his wife to move out of the way of my photo but I tell her not to move; I want her in the picture, looking in the window.) This turns into a very long conversation as the wife is a real chatterbox! Even the husband teases her about it. But they are very cute and sweet, they live in the 16th and also have a house in Haute-Savoie (where Paul Collomb is from). They have traveled a lot in the US and want to tell me all about it! I certainly don't understand why people think Parisians aren't friendly. Either that is a gross misconception or I only run into the nice ones. They are charmed and charming. She introduces herself and her husband as we are about to take leave of each other; I almost think if I had seemed eager to continue the relationship, I could have had myself two new best friends! :)

Down rue des Archives. I literally turn my head and glimpse a cloister through a doorway. Turns out it's called Les Billettes (I had read about it somewhere but had forgotten where it was). Apparently, it is the only remaining medieval cloister in Paris (15th century). There are piles of oriental rugs everywhere as there is a sale going on in this beautiful space. The church next door is called l'eglise des Billettes and, since 1812, has been a Lutheran Church.

On to BHV where I browse in the book section for awhile and see a couple of Laurie Colwin's books translated into French. Stop by the market and then home.