Today, Feb. 2 is Groundhog Day, the day we find out, or not, how much left of winter there is.
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February 02, 2009
I’m always on the lookout for fabric samples in Paris and one place I like to find them is in Montmartre. So following my matinal café au lait, I set off for the 18th arrondissement.
The name Montmartre comes from mons martyrium, the mount of martyrs, in this case the first Bishop of Paris, Saint Denis, and his two companions, Rusticus and Eleutherius.
For centuries, Montmartre was a rural village studded with windmills (moulins) that ground the flour for the capital. Today, only two of them remain.
In the 19th century, artists, writers and musicians discovered Montmartre’s bucolic charms and low rents. Lively bars, raucous cabarets, and garish bordellos soon followed, all the necessities for a Bohemian lifestyle.
I step off the train at Métro Abesses, one of the city’s few remaining Art Deco stations.
On the steady climb upward, I pass a souvenir shop, formerly the infamous cabaret, Le Chat Noir, where the bourgeoisie rubbed shoulders with the Bohemian demi-monde.
A few doors down at No.72, I recognize the Theatre Elysée-Montmartre, where the famous cancan dancer La Goulue made her debut before defecting to the Moulin Rouge.
Mildly out of breath, I climb the rue de Steinkerque, ducking in and out of fabric shops, collecting swatches as I go. I’m told a young Picasso visited the brothels on this street.
A familiar outline comes into view: the Basilica of Sacré Coeur. Do I have one more ascent in me? Puffing, I reach the summit of rue Foyatier, having covered all 266 steps.
How far would you climb to see one of the world's great sights?
still thinking about today...
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03/07/11
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03/08/11
The summer between my Sophmore and Junior year of high school my parents sent me on an EF tour of France and Switzerland with 2 other students from school and the french teacher M. Gohier (smelly, obnoxious little frenchman with a napoleanic complex...you know just for the real french experience).
One of the other students, Jack, decided he was going make a cool video and had the other boy from our school to use Jack's camcorder to film him sliding down a banister on the stairs of Monmartre. Jack made it down the first bannister ok and then decided to try sliding down on his belly, head first. He flew off the end of the second banister, hit the third banister, twisted and rolled down about 10 more steps. He broke his right arm and collar bone and a couple of ribs. It was shortly after that we learned to never get sick or hurt badly enough to go to a french hospital.
Ah, memories of a cold, rainy, winter's day. My friends and I trooped the fabric markets looking for the perfect drapes for the living room. I never knew that there could be so much fabric in one place.
We slogged from stall to stall but that perfect color illuded us.
We took the finicular up to Sacre Couer and then wandered Montmarte looking for the apartment of Van Gogh and Gaugin. I loved it!! To me this was Paris (well, if you looked past the hokey tourist stuff.)
Nachista... I used to take my students to France with EF. We had great times, especially when they got to go to the wineries and and visit the tasting room.
I was always glad we had a bus driver. I never knew who was more tipsy, the students or the adults.
Brothels? At that altitude? After endless flights of stairs? That Picasso! Such an 'outside of the box' kinda dude.
Should be an Olympic sport, right?
I have climed the stairs of Montmartre many times and it was well worth it every single time.
lol Missive, take the tram
*sigh* This page always gets me itching to pack my bags and fly off to France...or anywhere that's not here.