Today I joined the 9h (“neuf heure”) Sunday running crowd at Parc Monceau before venturing further afield for a friendly appointment in the Marais.

Though the weekday 9am scene at Parc Monceau had been quite populous, this morning’s resembled an organized 5K race! There seems to be a tacit understanding that diligent runners circle the Parc on its outer pathway and keep away from its inner orthogonals, moving constantly in a counter-clockwise direction. Those who wish to walk are few; perhaps they scrapped their running gear altogether and formed the also numerous contingent of finely-suited couples strolling down the main pathway, which bisects the elliptical outer ring lengthwise. It was an unfamiliar sight to see young families and older couples dressed quite formally for what appeared to be a habitual Sunday affair. Men who were not running wore long pants with nice leather shoes and blazers and the women wore heeled boots, skirts and long coats. It didn’t appear that these couples were walking anywhere in particular, just walking to enjoy the air and the sunlight. (To flåneur is, afterall, the French national pastime.) In addition to those on foot, there were even some young children hoofing it – atop ponies! As for other animals, there were a few dogs on leashes, but none accompanied any runners. There was a child’s birthday party on one of the lawns and nearby, a chi gong session. (I’d recognize those moves anywhere!) It was pretty chilly out, but not enough to require gloves or headgear.

That’s all I want to say about that.

Yesterday I became acquainted with a fellow Gen Art supporter who has also just relocated to Paris. As she does not speak French or know anyone in Paris, we decided immediately to meet today at Le Dôme, a café near where she lives with her boyfriend in the 4th arrondissement/le Marais. (Marais means “marsh” and is historically the Jewish center of town as well as the emerging gay neighborhood. I also believe it is where American burlesque star Dita von Teese bought an apartment recently.)

Anyway, I took the Metro to the Mº Saint-Paul (Marais) stop and waited for my new friend at an outdoor table. Over a double-pot of “thé vert avec sucre à la menthe” (green tea with sugar and mint leaves) we instantly bonded over the latest episode of Project Runway (grrr, that Gretchen!) and filled each other in on our grand Parisian schemes. Her boyfriend works in computer tech, so he was able to finagle their TV into showing American television shows (hence, Project Runway). As my apartment is equipped only with French TV and I can’t access Hulu or Netflix internationally, I content myself with blow-by-blow written recaps. (Though I might at least resort to MUBI for online film viewing, which is a great resource for classic, international and avant-garde films).

After parting from my new friend, I had some time to explore a little before heading back west. Just down the rue de Rivoli I happened upon what I imagine was the Church of Saint Paul. (It is actually called “Église Saint-Paul-Saint-Louis.”) As I stepped off the main drag onto a side street to get a better view for a photo, I spotted a familiar blonde woman: the mother of a high school-mate of mine! Though it was quite serendipidous to come across her, of all streets of Paris, of all times of day, I was not altogether surprised to find her in Paris; my friend, Tennessee, had been in Paris for a one-night show with her band before moving on to Rotterdam and Germany. (I didn’t learn of the show until it had passed, or I’d have gone). Anyway, I chased down Mrs. Thomas a bit and when she turned, I explained who I was. (I didn’t expect her to know me from 7 years ago!) She instantly warmed and in her British accent, asked me all about my being in Paris and we chatted for a good while about Tennessee’s band, the Marais, the bus system, and Paris in general. She advised me to walk down the street I had started on until I came upon rue des Francs-Bourgeois. She said it was a shopping district, and one of the only ones open on Sunday in Paris. I hadn’t realized shops were closed, but when I made it down a few streets toward it, I realized that this was quite a happening place on Sundays! I stopped and took photos of cool doors along the way, and warmed my hands with a hot crèpe of eggs and cheese to go. This area struck me as much more village-like than the area where I live in the 17th, with lots of narrow streets and enclosed gardens. There are even some prominent museums just off the rue des Francs-Bourgeois, including one that is currently featuring an exhibit on what appears to be the history of Louis Vuitton as it relates to the city of Paris. I didn’t have much time, or I’d have seen it then.

Unlike the really ritzy shopping areas with all the big brand names, the shops along this street were lesser-known and more specialty-like. Lots of fine woolens, perfumes and leather accessories. For the entertainment of the Sunday window-shoppers, a trio of players set up in the street to my exquisite delight. Listen to them below as you see some of the flåneurs and flåneuses of the Marais! (Though I must say, this crowd is not nearly as chic as the Parc Monceau strollers. I’ll have to capture them next week).

Music in the Marais, Paris from Nicole Garton on Vimeo.

More Music on rue des Francs-Bourgeois, Paris from Nicole Garton on Vimeo.