Having been to Paris about six times, I asked ChatGPT for some suggestions for quirky things to do in Paris when you’ve been before. One suggested place was Belleville Park, which I could walk to from my hotel.
This morning, I set off early. There was a good chance the baguette de campagne hadn’t sold out. On my way to the bakery I went to yesterday, I saw another bakery. So I decided to hedge my bets. It turned out that the bakery did have the baguette I wanted.
I continued walking and reached the Belleville Park in about 30 minutes. At first, this urban park, outside of the town centre, looked a bit shabby. But that was because of the entrance I took. After climbing the stairs to the top, I saw the view over the city that ChatGPT had mentioned. Alas, overgrown trees meant the view was restricted.
Instead of taking the stairs down, I walked along the winding (accessible) downward path. This revealed new aspects of the park, including lots of planting. This turned out to be a fine garden. I also managed to sit down and have my baguette with some Marmite I’d brought from home.
On the way to the park, I noticed a cluster of Chinese shops. In the park, there were some East Asian looking people playing table tennis. This reminded me of Japan, South Korea and Taiwan, where seniors were generally active hiking, using outdoor gyms, doing t’ai chi, or something else.
My next destination was the National Library, Bibliotheque Nationale. Again, I decided to walk there since it was a fine day and, hopefully, I’d come across interesting buildings.
I took a slightly circuitous route via the Jardin du Palias Royal. I sat for while to get out of the heat. There were single and double chairs. Some of the joined double chairs faced each other diagonally to allow you to see your companion!
Entrance to the Bibliotheque Nationale is free (apart from the museum). You could see the main study hall (without going in) if the attendant let you. I asked in my broken French for permission and he waved me through with a friendly smile.
The hall commemorates famous writers, including Shakespeare, with portrait medallions (sculpted bas-relief portraits). After having a look, I reversed out.
The attendant said something in French. Now I had to confess that I couldn’t speak French that well. He asked me which language I spoke and started speaking in English. He had been telling me in French that there is another fine hall but it’s closed today. On Mondays, many places are shut in France.
It was still warm so I sat in the library grounds. There were two types of single chairs. The first let you recline and the second kept you upright. I picked a reclining chair and read my book, The Housekeeper and the Professor by Yōko Ogawa. This is a lovely, gentle short novel about a maths professor who, after an accident, finds that his new memories lasts for 80 minutes. It’s like a video tape that can record only 80 minutes, after which it starts overwriting from the beginning.
After about an hour, I returned inside and saw a queue to the other hall, the one that was supposed to be closed on Mondays. I asked an attendant what was going on. She said that there was a classical music concert performance of a composer (Louise Farrenc). I asked if there were any tickets remaining. She said she thought there were some. I went to the ticket office ten metres away. There was a family in the queue. We were all waiting for a woman who seemed to be taking ages for everything, including repeatedly reaching into her bag. The elder of the family (possibly grandmother) looked at me and raised her eyebrows!
Once the woman had finished, we were told to wait. I, instead, asked the ticket seller how much the concert cost. She called an English speaker over and he said the tickets were €10 but all tickets were sold out. He said if I waited, there might be some no-shows.
By the time the concert was ten minutes away, there were just two of us waiting for spare tickets. Five minutes later, someone came over and told the ticket seller she could issue two tickets! This was an unexpected bonus.
The concert was in the library hall that I couldn’t see because it was closed. I now knew why: the musicians were rehearsing and the engineers were setting up the equipment. The hall was majestic — and I’d get to hear a concert in it!
There were no numbered seats. People were sitting by the study desks, the chairs having been rotated to face the front. Other chairs had been put out too. I found a free seat.
Before the concert started, the compère said a few words. The few words turned to many words. I had no idea what he was talking about (there was no English version or translation). Eventually, he finished and there was some polite applause. Then three musicians came on. They were the trio performing the first piece. One of them also delivered a pre-amble. She too went on and on. She looked young (they all did) but spoke with great confidence, varying her pace and stress. She was having a good time.
Twenty minutes after the start time, the concert started.
Many years ago, I used to go to a weekly classical concert at the Royal Festival hall in London. Having been raised on a diet of rock, pop and indie music, I started listening to classical music after university. A friend wrote me a letter recommending various pieces to listen to. I also bought a book that recommended new pieces based on what you like. So whilst working in Central London, I’d go to Charing Cross Library every week and borrow four CDs (the maximum allowed at the time). Whilst I don’t understand the technical elements of the music, I like some of the more melodic pieces.
Fortunately, the trio’s first piece was very listenable. The second piece required a string quintet. The piano player disappeared and three other people came on. However, it may have been that the pianist was a multi-instrumentalist and two more came on. I couldn’t recognise their faces from where I was sitting.
I enjoyed the second piece too but I missed the piano. Fortunately the pianist returned for the final piece, which I preferred.
By the time the concert finished, I was hungry. I looked for vegan restaurants near me and there were lots again! Fifteen minutes later, I was being served at the Adam and Eve Cafe.
The food was fine, a bit too much white rice for me.
I walked to the station via Jardin Nelson Mandela, close to Les Halles. I also saw another one of the (free) toilets scattered around Paris.