Paris - Parks and Gardens
I always admire people who wander around a city discovering something new all the time. Most of us have a tendency to take the same route and see the same things every time. Paris is a walking city. She can be crossed in two hours: north to south - east to west. I have done it often but that means no wandering - just getting to wherever I am going to. The pleasure of walks with Claude is that we wander.
Yesterday it was the Marais - the centre of Paris and the heart of history.
The latter is not my force as you know. Listening to the French listening to Claude I know how well my education is lacking in that area.
We started off right next to the Beaubourg centre (Pompidou on the map). The noise was deafening and yet just around the corner was a tiny garden which I have walked by so often - and never gone into. Anne-Frank’s garden inaugurated in 2007. Suddenly there is no noise and just a couple of people around. Reading or basking in the sun - the little there was of it. What is extremely touching is that there is a root of a chestnut tree which came from her house in Amsterdam.
For Anne Frank, the majestic chestnut tree she gazed on from the attic window was a source of comfort as she hid from the Nazis.The tree was inflicted with fungus in Amsterdam but saplings have been planted all over the world as a symbol of hope. This particular garden gives onto the Jewish Institute which is a museum today and one I love to visit.
Another charming point about this garden was the «shared garden» where children can learn to plant flowers, fruit and vegetables. It’s tiny but has a lot of love about it. How important too for children to know what the difference is between a weed and a runner bean....
We wandered from street to street. Rue Rambuteau, Temple, de Braque, des Archives, Franco-Bourgois, des Quatre fils, Claude commenting on the history of the hotels which seem to have been lived in by children who were illegitimate and mostly girls or mistresses of kings. It was the gardens which pleased me. Hidden and yet easy to find. One hotel did not have any garden at all. «Why?» I asked. Claude told me that there was the urban side and the garden side. Certainly in the 18th century (?) on the urban side there should be no flowers in window boxes or on balconies, let alone the front coutryard. I am glad we have moved on from there even if there is an industrial tower in one garden. A reminder of another era.
A suddenly out of the blue there is a tiny garden with what looked like water sprinklers. Then I discovered it was Veronique Joumard’s work. A young French artist who is fascinated by lighting systems. I saw her work in Macval some years ago. Quite uninteresting to look at in the garden as it seemed to mean nothing. «This is art» said Claude. The few remarks I overheard contradicted him in no uncertain terms. I tend to agree yet when those lights are lit in the evening - after having benn charged by solar power, they must be quite enchanting.
Yesterday it was the Marais - the centre of Paris and the heart of history.
The latter is not my force as you know. Listening to the French listening to Claude I know how well my education is lacking in that area.
We started off right next to the Beaubourg centre (Pompidou on the map). The noise was deafening and yet just around the corner was a tiny garden which I have walked by so often - and never gone into. Anne-Frank’s garden inaugurated in 2007. Suddenly there is no noise and just a couple of people around. Reading or basking in the sun - the little there was of it. What is extremely touching is that there is a root of a chestnut tree which came from her house in Amsterdam.
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| Anne Frank Garden |
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| The chestnut tree |
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| Jewish Institute |
Another charming point about this garden was the «shared garden» where children can learn to plant flowers, fruit and vegetables. It’s tiny but has a lot of love about it. How important too for children to know what the difference is between a weed and a runner bean....
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| Children's garden |
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| The Industrial tower |
We wandered from street to street. Rue Rambuteau, Temple, de Braque, des Archives, Franco-Bourgois, des Quatre fils, Claude commenting on the history of the hotels which seem to have been lived in by children who were illegitimate and mostly girls or mistresses of kings. It was the gardens which pleased me. Hidden and yet easy to find. One hotel did not have any garden at all. «Why?» I asked. Claude told me that there was the urban side and the garden side. Certainly in the 18th century (?) on the urban side there should be no flowers in window boxes or on balconies, let alone the front coutryard. I am glad we have moved on from there even if there is an industrial tower in one garden. A reminder of another era.
A suddenly out of the blue there is a tiny garden with what looked like water sprinklers. Then I discovered it was Veronique Joumard’s work. A young French artist who is fascinated by lighting systems. I saw her work in Macval some years ago. Quite uninteresting to look at in the garden as it seemed to mean nothing. «This is art» said Claude. The few remarks I overheard contradicted him in no uncertain terms. I tend to agree yet when those lights are lit in the evening - after having benn charged by solar power, they must be quite enchanting.
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| Water Sprinklers or Art? |
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| V.J.'s work lit up |
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