Secrètes de Paris

Okay, I admit the weather has been horrible: grey, cold, wet, windy, and -- sometimes -- snowy. Not the best conditions for dog walkies. They don't want to go, I don't want to go. There's the whole ritual of me bundling up, getting the mutts bundled up in their rain coats if necessary, finding a plastic bag for the inevitable ramassage ("I love my quartier, I pick up after my dogs"), the keys, the phone if I'm expecting a call, some change if I want to stop by the bakery...

When it's nice out or I'm feeling particularly energetic, we head up to the Butte-aux-Cailles, around the boules courts of the Boulevard Auguste Blanqui, and maybe even a stroll past our friendly neighborhood police station (it's been a year...I'm still waiting for one of them to say "hi"; they're not very friendly, in fact). Sometimes we stop at the supermarket, where they get tied to the railing by the carts while I'm shopping (sounds cruel, but they get pet by everyone who passes by). I take them into the bakery even though there's a "no dogs" sign (they'd freeze to death or get stolen if I left them outside), and they get to eat up all of the bread crumbs. The boulangère thinks they're cute. She didn't see that one time Lena managed to wiggle into a bottom cabinet, swallowing a few croissants whole before I yanked her out.

Lena's the smaller one, but she's a handful. And now that it's crappy outside and the walkies consist of a quick spin around the block, she's definitely showing signs of stir craziness. For the first time since she was a puppy (six years ago), she has been stealing my underwear out of the laundry bag. BAck when she was a pup and we had a garden, I'd find the undies in the grass or under the bushes, covered in dirt and dog saliva, but otherwise unadulterated. But now she brings them into her basket and shreds them to bits. I'm sure Freud would have a field day here, but whatever. I've begun hanging the laundry bag up on the draying rack in the bathroom.

So now that her "toys" are gone, she's just sitting here staring at me and giving off a little doggie huff every few minutes. If it was sunny out I could let her lie in the sunbeam on the bed (which usually keeps them quiet for hours), but there's no sun. Not even a little. She's not interesed in her bone. She's not even interested in terrorizing her brother, Pedro (who's doing his own passive-aggressive doggie routine of not eating his kibble for three days in a row).

So how to get the dogs out of their winter funk? When I'm in a funk a trip to the pastry shop is always nice, so I think we're going to have to take a trip to the dog bakery this weekend (scroll down to Doggie Services).

These won't help you find it, unless of course you swallowed Dan Brown's book whole. The film is coming out in May, so I expect a few more lost souls will be trying to follow these little round disks across town. They actually do follow the original Paris Meridien, used in France back before GMT was established. But these little bronze plaques are actually part of the largest "work of art" in Paris, created by an artist in 1995 to honor the French astronomer Arago, who mapped out the line at the Paris Observatory in the 17th century. The little disks can be found from Montmartre to the Parc Montsouris.



This one is at the Palais Royal: in the background is the Hotel du Louvre, and even further back on the left a peek of the Louvre Museum.

Sometimes a lack of proper management can work in your favor. Sometimes not. Take the Centre Pompidou, for example. I was showing some friends around town when the winter drizzle turned into a downpour, so we ducked inside the Pompidou for shelter. There's usually a line at the door (for security check; the ticket counter for the museum exhibits is inside), so we pretended we were going to the Georges restaurant on the top floor and got in the guarded red elevator just to the left of the main entrance. Quick and easy elevator to the top (well, you do have to switch on the first floor, no biggie) and I have a peek, as I usually do, to see if the glass doors for the fire escape have been left undone again. Of course they were. Why would anyone go out there in the rain? Duh, to get better photos!

On our way out we decide to freshen up in the restrooms, and I try the water fountain in the ladies room, as I usually do. And it's still broken. As far as I can tell, it's never worked. I'll bet there isn't even a water hose attached. It's probably some kind of contemporary art installation. After all, how often do you see drinking fountains indoors in France? Never! Still, I'm not going to give up hope that some day I can have a little sip for my parched throat. In the meantime I'll have to settle for drinking the rainwater I've wrung out of my beret.

This is art.

With Claire and Mika (center) at the SOMO Bar (Rue Montmartre, 2nd) to celebrate another February birthday. Doesn't look a day over 29, does she?! SOMO is owned by the same folks as the Lizard Lounge over in the Marais (Rue du Bourg-Tibourg), so there's a similar crowd of 25-35ish "trying to look casually snazzy" Parisians and Anglophones. Up in the oddly tiled tower is a DJ we can barely see, but the music is good so who cares? Being a holiday in Paris, most of the town is off skiing, so we could actually find seats at the bar and watch the girls make eyes at the cute Danish bartender (who was pounced on immediately by Claire's tall, blonde Danish friend...making the most of an unfair advantage!)

Every time I see this sign I think it's just so damned cool, I want to stroll inside and hire me a detective..."Go find me the real secrets!"

There was a good drizzle falling, but it didn't stop these kids from enjoying the little toboggan slide set up next to the ice-skating rink.

I was walking down the Rue Castiglione this week and noticed the big billboards covering the building at the corner of Rue de Rivoli. Up until January, this was the Paris InterContinental. Now it's called The Westin, although aside from a few signage changes, for the moment it still looks very much the same as it did when I stopped by in September. But I hear big renovations are planned for the massive 438-room conference hotel, so stay tuned.

I think the change is good. I never really liked this hotel despite its beautiful ballrooms and historic architecture. All conference hotels have a conference hotel atmosphere, no matter how pretty they look. The other weird thing was that it always confused the tourists because there were actually two InterContinental hotels, the remaining one, known as the InterContinental Paris Le Grand Hotel, located nearby across from the Opéra Garnier. This one was completely renovated two years ago, and while very impressive, is also a conference hotel (although it's nice to have a drink in their intimate bar just past the winter garden atrium).

I think it's funny that their website doesn't mention what happened to the other hotel, but rather has an oddly prominent quote in the center of the home page that says:


"There is only one Paris. There is only one InterContinental."

No mention of who this quote is from...maybe it's the endless refrain chanted into the phone by the receptionist feiliding calls from confused travelers looking for the "one near the Tuileries".

Omigod this is the cutest little penguin backpack! Couldn't help myself...

On February 8 the French rock group Astonvilla (not the soccer team) gave a surprise concert on the Esplanade of the Palais de Chaillot (Trocadéro).



It was recorded to be broadcast on the French TV channel France 4 on February 24 at 8:50pm. Look for me "stage right", wearing an olive hat and lavender scarf!



As the group started singing, a few curious tourists gathered around to listen, although they probably didn't guess that this is one of the most succesful rock bands in France! Fans who happened to catch the last-minute announcement on the band's website took photos and cheered (clapping and yelling also helped everyone stay warm...a frozen wind that day!)



As it got darker a chilly rain began to come down (see the crew in the back holding a tarp over the drummer), but the concert continue, even going 45 minutes over the scheduled time (the band had a concert later that night at the Trabendo). What troopers! (having the Eiffel Tower sparkling in the background doesn't hurt the mood, either)

Stay tuned for the location of the next "concert sauvage" by Louise Attaque scheduled to take place before the end of the month!