39Vaugirard

April Fool’s day is said to have French origins. In 1564, France reformed the calendar, changing the beginning of the year from the end of March to January 1st. For those who resisted the new calendar and adhered to the old traditions, paper fish were playfully attached to their backs and they were fondly dubbed ‘poisson d’avril.’ or April fish. To this day, poisson d’avril is the French name for April Fool’s Day, and the tradition of hoaxes and tricks is alive and well.

From the New York Times…

Newly launched, The Paris Supper Club promises to replace both outdated guidebooks and raves from nostalgic friends when it comes to searching out some of the best and truest places to eat in the French capital.

The club is a project of former Gourmet European correspondent Alexander Lobrano, author of a book and blog called “Hungry for Paris” (hungryforparis.com), and Wendy Lyn, a “culinary concierge” whose blog, “The Paris Kitchen” (thepariskitchen.com), vows to have you eating and drinking like a local, not a tourist.

These all-inclusive, prix-fixe dinners are limited to eight guests, with Lyn and Lobrano acting as hosts. As Lyn puts it on her Web site, it’s about “sharing a meal and a conversation — where guests can ask us everything from the best restaurants, cafes, shops, markets, bakeries to living in Paris.”

Average cost is 100 euros (about $135) per person and includes a starter, main course, dessert and wine. Guests also will be sent a list of the duo’s six favorite bistros and restaurants before their visit. theparissupperclub@gmail.com

Our kids love Paris’ parks, and the splattering of manèges and play structures we find on our long walks across the city. But day in, day out, except when it rains, they want to go back to “Le Jardin,” as everyone, at least in the 6th and 7th, calls it. Aside from being classically beautiful, designed by architect Salomon de Brosse under Marie de Medici’s supervision (1615-1627), and a wonderful place for adult pursuits, like making out on the grass, playing tennis, or dozing by the bassin, this place is filled with stuff kids like. More below the quote.

Paris is a great place to take your children on holiday as there are many tourist attractions, museums and parks in the city that cater to children. Several of the parks scattered across Paris, are equipped with playgrounds, carousels, puppet shows and petting zoos that children are sure to love.

1. Jardins du Luxembourg (Rue de Médicis, Rue de Vaugirard) – This garden has a long history, it was established in the 17th century by Marie de Medicis from Italy. This is one of the most popular gardens in Paris and is especially full on weekends, when there are guignols, puppet shows and poneys! There are also a number of ponds where one can go boating, take a stroll, or simply relax while the children play in the sun.

Best parks for Kids in Paris, Family travel in France. Zoos, parks and games

Take your pick from the attractions below made for the under 12 set:

• Pony carrousel with “grab the ring” feature
• Zipline ride
• Immense play structure and sandboxes (n.b. pay for entry, even for parents)
• Cotton candy
• Rental sailboats in the fountain
• Pony and donkey rides
• Famous marionette theatre
• Flying two person swings

There is plenty to enjoy here without paying a cent, but go with kids, and expect to shell out plenty of 2 Euro coins to enjoy the full experience.

And here is has to do with the Enlightenment and the brilliant people living the city:

Paris has many nicknames, but its most famous is “La Ville-Lumière” (most often translated as “The City of Light”),[15] a name it owes first to its fame as a centre of education and ideas during the Age of Enlightenment, and later to its early adoption of street lighting.[16]

[From Paris - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia]

Ah, politics is so grand in France. Imagine a conservative President in the United States embracing a leftist intellectual figure (or several) in order to burnish his own intellectual credentials and position himself as a worthy heir to the 20th Century intellectual tradition of France. I’m afraid we Americans go the other way, with “Democrats” debasing themselves by honoring a B-movie star champion with disputable intellectual credentials.

Given the Panthéon’s function as the final repose for France’s greatest heroes, it’s perhaps not surprising that efforts are now afoot to relocate the ashes of writer and philosopher Albert Camus to a site beneath the 18th century Paris building’s cupola. But rather than earning plaudits from intellectuals and ordinary French people alike, the move to honor the man some call France’s most influential postwar thinker is sparking controversy. Some pundits and historians say that Camus’ legacy is being exploited for political gain, while others argue that glorification of the philosopher by the French government would make a mockery of Camus’ deeply individualist convictions.

President Nicolas Sarkozy said last week that he wanted to add Camus to the giants of French history who are buried at the Panthéon — figures like Voltaire, Jean-Jacques Rousseau, Victor Hugo, Emile Zola and Louis Pasteur — as a way of revering an author whose defense of the downtrodden and veneration of the individual over the oppressive forces of society earned him fame and respect around the globe. But the announcement outraged Camus’ son, Jean, who saw a motivation of a different sort — an attempt by Sarkozy to “requisition” the legacy of a ferociously independent thinker who has long been a hero of the intellectual left.

[From Reburying Albert Camus: A Political Ploy by Sarkozy? - TIME]

The debate goes on between Camus’ son, Jean, who says the ploy runs counter to everything his father stood for, and his daughter Catherine who could imagine her father in the Panthéon.

As for myself, as a long long time fan and student of Camus, I think anything that keeps the memory of this thinking and work alive in the minds of the French and foreigners is a good thing. If anything, those who read Camus would tend to be less “des moutons” in following the thinking of Sarkozy and others on the Right.

Our friend Patrick Mikla always surprises us with ‘inside’ discoveries of Paris and France. From the time we met him some 15 year ago, I can remember each and every one of our adventures. The latest is France Miniature.

He took the day off and took us Élancourt, a town about an hour drive outside of Paris, where this miniature park attraction featuring scale models of major French landmarks and monuments is located in an outdoor park. It’s absolutely delightful, for both adults and children. For architecture and history buffs like my husband and me, the park has about 160 scale models of major French monuments and landmarks. Many of the models are animated and all of the country’s best known landmarks are represented (Lourdes, Eiffel Tower, Dungeons, etc). We reminisced about many of our trips to certain regions of France as well as discussed monuments and churches that we had never heard of.

For our daughter and and our son, the system of model trains that runs through the park kept them consistently delighted, and the animated boats and planes over the Atlantic Ocean and the Mediterranean were very amusing. Half way through the park, there is even an old fashion amusement park/respite and a restaurant, where the kids and parents can go on slides and the parents can take in a nice tea.

My husband and I were just talking about ‘terroir,’ and why is it that we feel healthier, and more connected to the earth, when we’re in France, even though it seems we eat more cream, cheese, and desserts when we are here. Roger Cohen encapsulated my thoughts more perfectly, ‘TIme bows at the altar of gastronomy in France. In the U.S., time is the altar.’

From Op-Ed Columnist – Advantage France – NYTimes.com]

I never knew this but I’m glad I found out here, rather than at poolside. In French public pools, to avoid swimming suit-like attire (cut-offs, shorts or worse), men must wear Speedos.

So Alton Towers has banned embarrassingly titchy swimming trunks at its water park. But spare a thought for France, where the opposite is true: local authorities regularly force men to ditch their Bermudas and parade in skin-tight budgie-smugglers for the greater public good.

In French public pools, from the racing lanes of Paris to the open-air lidos and water parks of the south, anything bigger than Speedos is banned and you must hoist yourself into a posing pouch as a civic requirement. French changing rooms are littered with the broken dreams of prudish males abroad who thought they could sneak in a few lengths without showing their contours.

[From Why Speedos are still huge in France]

This sounds like another attempt to shore up French industry, but it does have a certain logic in a country trying to welcome differences, but at the heart, trying to make everyone into a Frenchman.

As we wander through our jetlagged first few days in Paris, we have been talking about why we are always so deliriously happy in this city. Here are our many different theories.

1. We are on vacation. Well, that used to be the case, back in the day when people took vacations where no one can reach you and you forget as much as you can about worklife for a week. Now, I can’t really say I’m on vacation. I’m away from my regular work pattern, but I’m still logging in and working. Otherwise, we couldn’t spend two weeks here. It’s not an absence of “work” that makes me feel happy, though I’d love to be able to take one of those old style vacations again.

2. It’s the wine. Yes, it certainly doesn’t hurt, but if anything, if I were drinking a glass of wine at lunch and dinner back at home, I’d feel lousy in the morning and grumpy all day between drinks. I just don’t drink as much back home, nor does it ever taste as good, or as “organic” as wine tastes in France along with a good meal.

3. It’s the quality of the food ingredients. I’ve long suspected that better food tampers less with the human body, and all the latest out Michael Pollan and his pals seems to support a public consensus on this point. If you choose correctly, you can still get good restaurant meals in France. There are no omnipresent SYSCO food service trucks pulling up to every restaurant to unload pre-made condiments, doughs, and powdered quick-made entrées.

4. It’s the walking. Only European cities make it easy for tourists to walk almost everywhere, while enjoying feasts for the eyes. Paris is no exception and we often walk five or more miles per day, tethered to one of two 50 pound weights we call children. The exercise is great and certainly lightens the load of the heavy servings of guilt and remorse we consume at the end of every meal.

5. It’s the natural beauty. Now, we may be getting somewhere. My wife remarked that she always feels close to nature while in Paris. “Close to nature” in a city of two million people? Yes. It’s the manicured parks and green space. The shady trees. The fountains. The bikes now everywhere. The river we have to cross on most journeys.

6. Finally, we think it might be largely the urban planning. I don’t think you can discount the long term effect of the Haussmann reconstruction of this city that made it into a fairly uniform, but beautiful composite that also reflects a golden light that is unique to Paris, at least among large cities. The French, despite obvious temptations, have mostly avoided ’60-style architecture and the pull of skyscraper within the Paris city limits after wake-up call that was the Tour Montparnasse. There are no mini-malls, now no above ground parking lots and a standardization of commercial signage. If this is what French socialism means, then give us more of it.

We come from San Francisco so we know what natural beauty is, but we’re always dismayed by urban San Francisco: the omnipresent work-live lofts which now dominate every neighborhood with an architectural style that no one would ever want to represent their city. The shoddy development of South of Market. The paucity of real world-class architecture outside of our newest museums. Even the dominance of Victorian houses, which we know are charming to some, but which we find sickly sweet after a few too many blocks. San Francisco, for us, is the GG bridge, the Marin Headlands. Fort Cronckite. The Presidio. The Ferry Building facing away from the city. The tree-lined streets of Pacific Heights — You can hate Pacific Heights if you want to, but there are peaceful alleys there where the mind can rest.

Whenever I’m here, I feel pounds lighter, years younger, and IQ points smarter. Name one other vacation spot that can do all that.