Bonnes
vacances à toutes et à tout
|
I returned to Paris on the 2nd of August after a short trip to
Scotland. When I popped out of the Metro at Alésia I thought I had taken
a wrong turn; caught the train to ghost town instead of my usual busy
little 14e Arrondissement. Cafe Zeyer, closed for refurbishment, set
the trend. All along the street shutters were down, cafe chairs and
tables stacked in corners, usually busy bar tabacs with handwritten signs hung on closed
doors, even our little corner boulangerie had its green blinds drawn and
buttoned. August in Paris means Fermeture Annuelle. The time when every small
business shuts up shop and goes on holiday for the month of August. How
would we survive? What would it be like living in a ghost town? It was easy.
Paris was hot and steamy but I wasn't
complaining. If I wanted crowds I need only go to the Seine in central Paris where a
horde of tourists hugged the river bank oblivious to the fact that outside that
enclave the city was virtually empty.
In the 14e the Monoprix was open so we
wouldn't starve and the market, although drastically cut, still had one of each type of stall and an abundance of fresh sunflowers for sale.
The biggest problem was finding an open boulangerie. Parisians take their bread very seriously and ever since 1789, when one
poor baker was hung for running out of bread, the annual holidays of boulangeries
have been regulated by La Préfecture de Police. Parisians should never
have to travel more than a couple of streets for their daily bread. The problem was
the trial and error of finding one that was open.
There are great advantages of being in
Paris in August. Shorter queues at museums, being able to sprint over the busy
junction at Porte d’Orléans without having to run the gauntlet of red light
blindness, no junk mail, no cold calls and being able to get a seat on
the bus.
Shut for a month |
It is now nearing the end of the month and
slowly the shops are cranking up the shutters and sweeping out the summer dust.
It feels like the end of summer. Although the streets are again filled with the
smell of baking bread, through that I can smell autumn's rapid approach. The leaves are falling
and the sun is falling too. It has been a good August.
The
Exception
Mosquitoes. According to the locals this
has been an exceptionally hot summer and the result is more mozzies. Some mornings I would wake with tracks of
bites across my shoulders and legs. I
tried tea-tree oil mixed with lavender oil, but that proved no deterrent. In the
end a new bedtime ritual of swot the mosquitoes was the only solution.