Paris – a Walk in The Park

            Second in a series exploring Europe’s diverse landscapes and gardens, from formal designs to wild, natural beauty…

            One of the greatest perks of traveling is enjoying beautiful gardens without any of the upkeep. You can love ’em and leave ’em so to speak.

            As we journeyed to Paris aboard the Eurostar, memories of London lingered like whispers in the air. Yet, before us lay fresh streets to wander, new skies to gaze upon, and the quiet allure of a city waiting to be compared, explored, and remembered anew.

            Like visiting any destination, you need a plan, but it’s often in spontaneous moments that the most memorable experiences happen. Such was our sojourn in Paris, where a stroll became an adventure at every turn – and also an opportunity for my eyes to relish this gem of a city once again.

            Paris on a Saturday evening met us with gorgeous views of summer in its splendor: people gathered along both sides of Canal Saint Martin, conjured a modern take on Georges Seurat’s painting “A Sunday on La Grande Jatte.” People seem to spill out from every direction in this lovely section of the city with cafes, boulangeries, shops, and the occasional kebabier.

            Trees line the rivers and boulevards everywhere in Paris, offering shade and relief to tourists in a world that’s steadily warming. The heat of early July took me back to my first visit to the city on a post-college trip abroad in 1980. My friend Suzanne, a few other college friends, and I went to Versailles, where we ended up napping in the gardens. The languor caused by the sweltering heat, coupled with the closure of the palace that day, gave us the perfect excuse to recharge. I still remember how satisfying the beer was at a little café that afternoon – super!

            Flash forward… this trip to Paris would be brief and light, with family arriving at different times. No grand plans but rather a relaxed prelude to the trip south, the location of our daughter’s wedding. Like proper Parisians, we visited the local Sunday open-air market, where vendors offered freshly picked produce, irresistible cheese, and assorted foods, spices and accoutrements. I opted for strawberries and a straw visor – perfect choices given the heat.

            My daughter, an adopted Parisian, led the way as we ventured to Île Saint-Louis, the serene island in the Seine River. Known for its elegant townhouses and upscale vibe, the island has long been home to Parisian nobility and wealthy businessmen since the 17th century. Today, it still exudes charm, with its quiet, residential streets offering a peaceful escape near some of the city’s most famous landmarks. We lunched at a lovely outdoor cafe watching the action of the street that included a photo shoot of a boy band – a sort of French-styled fabulous four – posing with instruments atop a Ford Mustang the same color as their suits: cafe creme.

            We walked along the Seine past book stalls. These booksellers, known as bouquinistes, primarily sell used and antique books, as well as vintage postcards and other paper goods. They also offer some tourist souvenirs, but the majority of their stock is literary. The stalls themselves are iconic, with their green boxes stretching for kilometers along the riverbanks where they have stood for centuries.

            In a short time, we reached the Holy Grail of monuments: the renovated Notre Dame, to which we stood and gazed (I’d visited that monumental structure way back in the day and would have to give it a miss until next time as the lines were just too long as I guess they always will be). Instead, we strode on stopping for pictures at the Louvre, my daughter in law Alisha smartly using a parasol against the sun’s rays like she’d stepped out of the Seurat painting. A year ago, I’d spent a day inside reacquainting myself with Winged Victory and Mona Lisa, among many other treasures. Now, we were content with the exterior view and avoiding crowds.

            Paris is widely known for its beautiful parks and gardens, and the city boasts a significant number of green spaces, from the grand formal types to the humbler neighborhood squares. It is wonderful to see people take pleasure in these spaces and the artful touches that are placed within – ranging from grandiose sculptures to gymnasiums for children.

            One of the most famous public parks here is Le Jardin des Tuileries between the Louvre and the Place de la Concorde. In 1564, Catherine de Medici commissioned the construction of the Tuileries Palace and its gardens near the Louvre. The palace was named for the tile factories (tuileries) that previously occupied the site. Renowned landscape architect Andre Le Notre redesigned the gardens in the 17th century, influenced by Italian formal gardens, including symmetrical paths, ponds, and sculptures, transforming the gardens into a grand, classical space. After the French Revolution, the gardens were opened to the public, making them one of the first royal gardens to be accessible to everyone.

            Today, the Jardin des Tuileries is a vibrant public space, a popular spot for walking, relaxing, and enjoying art. During the 2024 Summer Olympics and Paralympics, it was the site of the Olympic and Paralympic cauldron. The gardens are also home to the Orangerie Museum, known for Monet’s “Water Lilies.” The Tuileries Garden continues to be a place where history, art, and nature converge, welcoming millions of visitors each year.

            As we carried on our walk, we were stopped by a pair of hands. No! Not a pickpocket! But a pair of richly detailed bronze hands atop a granite stone. I later learned that French-American artist Louise Bourgeois created “The Welcoming Hands” to represent love and kindness. She created them for Ellis Island in New York Harbor, where millions of immigrants passed through. Beyond the statues and fountains and the distant view of the Eiffel Tower, people moved through the summer air. In the cool shade between two linden tree alleys, men played pétanque, tossing the boule with palm facing down giving it a little spin. These are some of the little moments that stay etched on the old memory.

            With all of the meandering and stopping to take photos and me wondering why Lindens are also called Lime trees, we came upon a fun fair (AKA, amusement park) known as the Fete des Tuileries. It happens every summer here and has all kinds of attractions. If you know me, you might guess what happened next. Handing our handbags over to my husband, Lori, Jane, and I promptly bought tickets to a flume ride named Konga and with a huge cutout of the giant gorilla. Forgetting our age and thinking only of a way to get cooled off, we belted up and took this fun ride up and up and up with a view of the gardens and then the restorative descent through the water. It made us feel ten times cooler (and younger).

            We made our way home, finally taking an uber ride but not before window shopping in the haute couture area of Place Vendome and Rue Saint-Honore. These streets are known for their luxury boutiques, designer flagship stores, and high-end fashion houses. In case you’re wondering, the price of a beer here is € 16 (Euro). A bit much, but totally refreshing!

            The next day we would again venture to the south of France and be a part of our daughter Olivia’s wedding. Again, we would experience a shift in temperature and environment aligned with the Mediterranean. I look forward to sharing that in a subsequent column.

            “We must cultivate our garden.” – from Voltaire’s Candide

The Seaside Gardener

By Laura McLean

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