Pantheon, 1

We'd never been to the Pantheon before. I suspect few non-French tourists visit it, since it's an entirely and intensively French thing, originally a neo-classical church commissioned by Louis XV, converted to a "temple" to the greats of French culture and history by the Revolution, then see-sawing back and forth between Catholic church and national temple through a variety of empires, restorations, republics, and more revolutions, empires and republics. French history is tres dificile. It wasn't until the death of Victor Hugo, in the 1880s, that the nation finally decided it was to be the Pantheon of (some) French greats. One suspects each succeeding regime and administration uses it for its own political purposes. Perhaps the one most noteworthy feature of the Pantheon is the nearly total absence of women...just Marie Curie. New honorees get disinterred from elsewhere and re-planted in the Pantheon every now and then, and ones hope this great injustice will be addressed.

It's a huge neoclassical building; the dome is under wraps now
since some significant structural problems have come to light;
the repair work will continue for some years

Under the gigantic porch

Nave view

Looking upwards from what would be the nave

The main floor has a good many colossal
paintings, mostly religious subjects; here's
St. Denis finding his head (he'd lost it...)

Mostly about Paris' patron saint, St.
Genevieve, here urging Parisians to keep
calm and carry on, despite the approach
of Attila

The entire port transept was given over to an impressive
display on the life, work, and influence of Jean Jaures, the
great socialist political leader who was assassinated on the
eve of WWI 

A selection of books on Jaures; he still looms large in French
political thought, and the exhibit was largely about his
continuing influence

L'Humanite was Jaures' newspaper; he was
working desperately to avoid the violence
that would become WWI, but was shot by
a nationalist

Jaures' induction to the Pantheon in 1924; one of the major
icons of French politics is a photo of Francois Mitterand
placing a wreath at the tomb of Jaures in 1980, just before
he was sworn in as head of the first socialist government
since WWII

Angela Davis presumably paying homage to
Jaures

Leon Blum, who evenutally replaced Jaures as socialist leader

Much of the main floor, apart from heroic paintings of St.
Genevieve doing miracles, features some similarly colossal
scultpure, mostly along nationalist themes

This one an homage to Rousseau

Viaduc des arts

The weather moderated Saturday, and we felt like a walk. Our stay in Paris was down to two weeks, and we were beginning to feel anxiety about seeing everything we originally had wanted to see. So we decided to walk from the apartment through Place de la Nation and along the Boulevard Diderot to the Avenue Daumesnil, along which runs, for a mile, the Viaduc des Arts. This is the underside of the Promenade des Plantes, which we walked a bit back in June. It's all part of a disused 1860s elevated railway, redesigned and up-cycled at the same time the Place de la Bastille was re-developed and the Opera Bastille was built. From there we would walk to Bercy for a look at the federal complex there, and then, near there, see Frank Gehry's Cinematheque Francaise, cross the river to the national library and then loop back to the Metro and a ride home. The heat hadn't moderated all that much, actually, and we were tired and hot puppies by the end of it. (I can never use the term "viaduct" without thinking of the classic Groucho/Chico "why a duck?" sketch from The Cocoanuts: http://www.metacafe.com/watch/4493024/the_cocoanuts_why_a_duck/; you have to watch about half of the extract here to get to "why a duck?", but the puns along way are well worth the wait).

The Viaduc des arts from Boulevard Diderot--looking toward
Bercy and then Vincennes; there are some 64 vaults, ranging in
size from 100 to more than 400 square meters--big shoppes,
cafes, etc.

Looking the other way toward Place de la Bastille

There are many high-end retails shops, cafes, and a few
restaurants; what really interested was the high-end artisan
shops--here, metal work

Thus

Here in a pretty incredible furniture-making
shop; there is also an umbrella/parasol shop,
making of musical instruments, restoration of
books and art works, jewelry, and much
more

Along the Avenue Daumesnil, other side, all
kinds of beautiful Belle Epoche buildings

Thus

And thus

Near Gare de Lyon, another bit of French flair--a simple
arch or something squared-off would be unthinkable

OK, maybe it is thinkable; here now in the federal district,
which reminded me a bit of  L'Enfant Plaza in DC

Still dramatic if only in size; this, and the previous, are parts
of the Ministry of Finance

Approaching Parc de Bercy

The Cinematheque Francaise

Thus

Sculpture in the Parc de Bercy, along the Seine

On the Simone de Beauvoir footbridge, crossing over to the
four open-book towers that encompass the Francois Mitterand
national library

Floating piscines used to be quite common--this, Vicki says,
is the last of them in Paris

Now on the Left Bank--fitting he should have a street so
close to the Cinematheque Francaise

I was cooking Thai the next night and needed a few
concombres; a street merchant was selling absolutely the
largest cukes we have ever seen; so we bought a couple

Finally, we arrived at our station for the ride back home,
a little more of Paris traversed and explored

Nous avons chaud

The weather turned hot--not warm--hot, upper 90s, which in Paris is ugly, since there is little air conditioning. So Vicki and I--after getting P and her parents off to the Gare du Nord and the train to the UK of GB--decided it might be good to spend the day visiting some of the (hopefully) air-conditioned newer department stores.

Interior of the Gare du Nord, one of the older stations still
standing

Surfing from AC shop to AC shop, we made
our way to the old Samaritaine, now defunct
and awaiting either destruction or resurrection,
one of Paris' great old department stores,
another Art Nouveau treasure

Humongous...one of the game-changers in retail

Thus

And thus

And then made our way back up-river on
the Rue Rivoli past the St. Jacques Tower

Appreciating Pascal's scientific researches

And past the Hotel de Ville

And finally to the BHV, where we spent the
afternoon, looking mostly at the cook-ware
(an entire floor: the French are serious about
a lot of things, but nothing more than cooking)

In the book department at BHV; "Le Faulkner de Louisiana"

Department store philosophy; at least the AC
was working

All over Paris we have been looking for a plastic
picnic table cover for use in the States,
something that said "Paris" or "France" or
somesuch; we have seen "welcome to England"
and "welcome to New York" and all kinds of
such things, but never Paris

Until searching an humble housewares shoppe on Diderot
Boulevard; I am not sure how it's going to look on a
National Forest Service campground picnic table; but Vicki
likes it

Septime

For a few years now, Septime has been on everyone's "must" list for Paris eating. "Must" if you're in the food fashion industry, or an international foodie, etc. I suppose it's partly the chef, another young food star, partly the contrarian nature of the place, partly the usual emphasis on freshness, season, innovation, etc. Reservations are impossible for dinner, even for lunch, until well into the fall, but if you get there early for lunch and ask politely, you can often score a table via cancellations. Jeremy and I, two of the five members of the extended family not suffering from selective eating disorder (look it up), indeed scored a lunch table Thursday (until 1:30). The wait-person (what do you call this in a contrarian French restaurant?) informed us we would have time enough only for the three course menu--just enough, actually), so that is what we did.

Septime is the blue thing; it's on Rue Charonne, a few blocks
from where we live; it's not nearly in the fashionable Bastille
area; these are working-stiff neighborhoods; the restaurant
is totally unadorned on the outside

Interior (off the web), from about where we sat; the kitchen
is completely open to view; the staff we saw were all under
30 (or so they looked), but good; very good; the two rooms
seat perhaps 50; there is no ornamentation on the walls;
actually, there is pealing paint all over the walls; it's like
they just rented a space and moved in the furniture and
cooking stuff, proclaiming, "this is about cuisine and nothing
else"

The menu; ditto...this is about cuisine and
nothing else; for the three course, you pick
three of the nine things listed; for the five
course...five; the wines are pretty much all
"natural," which is of course what you'd
expect, looking around; I had a natural beer

Well, I forgot to document the entree, which,
for both of us was the leeks (looked more like
scallions, but, whatever) and the aged/seasoned/
very thin-sliced beef, with snippets and traces
of other things (check the menu, preceding, if
you're really interested); above is my main
course, a grilled pork sliver, with onions and
other miniature accompaniments

Jeremy had the tuna with the assorted green
stuff

My dessert: apricots and other stuff with
vanilla ice cream

Jeremy had the cheese course (traditionally,
it's three items, but don't expect anything
traditional at this kind of restaurant; not
even a pastis); verdict, mine, solely: at least
it's not over-priced, at 28 euros for the
three-course, including tax and tip; you could
probably get this quality of food--freshness,
preparation, inventiveness, seasonal-
orientation, etc., at scores of restaurants in
California, maybe even just Middle California,
and not have to watch the paint pealing in
sweltering heat; and in English too; but, OK,
not in Paris, and probably not at a place quite
so notable nor memorable