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“London is a riddle, Paris is an explanation.”

G.K. Chesterton

High time to put to bed – once and for all – the trickle of images that I have been slowly posting of our trip across the pond back in July.

On our last full day in Paris we visited the Musée de Montmartre, the which is located – as you might expect – in Montmartre, a little to the north of the Basilica of the Sacré-Cœur. The museum was founded in 1960 and was classified as a “Museum of France” in 2003. The buildings in which it is housed were formerly the home of several famous artists, including Pierre-Auguste Renoir and Suzanne Valadon.

Here are some photographs of our day:

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson Reid

In the late 19th century, the lower section of Montmartre was home to many cabarets, such as le Chat Noir, le Lapin Agile and le Moulin Rouge. Many posters, stage designs and the reknown Shadow Theatre at le Chat Noir were created by the artists who lived in this Bohemian quarter of the city.

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson Reid

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I have been completely remiss in leaving unfinished my posting of images from our wanderings abroad during the summer – for which I heartily apologise. I shall remedy immediately…

Whilst in Paris we took a day trip to Fontainebleau to visit the Château, a residence for French monarchs from Louis VII to Napoleon III. Neither I nor The Girl had previously visited Fontainebleau but – given that I have a long-standing interest with Bonaparte – we were both very pleased to be able to rectify that situation. The palace is spectacular!

Anyway – here be pictures:

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson Reid

 

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Image from PixabayThe transitory nature of human existence is a familiar enough concept in all of its many guises (as a metaphysical notion – as a motivation to live a better life – as an unwanted burden – as a drive to spirituality) that we are all – in one way or another – already well versed in its contemplation and consideration.

Though we may tend in later years to an unexpected and (for some) unwelcome conservatism we more or less accept that all things must change – that decay and decline are inevitable – that entropy is the norm and that the steady churn of the seasons inevitably involves death and loss, if only so that things might be reborn once again come springtime.

Most of us wish, to be sure, to be able to get through our lives with the bare minimum of grieving (certainly of the kind that should just never happen, such as parents burying their children) whilst at the same time rather admiring the fact that we have acquired such an effective mechanism for ensuring survival and sustainability. If we were dishonest enough with ourselves to take any credit for this evolutionary strategy we might even feel rather smug about it. Though the shocks that accompany such major life events are always unwelcome (even should such a loss be anticipated) we, are at the end of the day, quite accomplished at dealing therewith.

There are – however – some occurrences of destruction, disaster and loss that render us speechless; a shock to the system that is felt almost viscerally. Such was the feeling I had the other day at the spectacle of the Notre Dame burning in Paris; watching the steeple come cascading down in a torrent of fire. Was this – the destruction of something that we had all unthinkingly believed to be eternal, permanent – not shock enough to shake our firmly held convictions to the core. I found myself unable to think clearly for some time.

A day later we can finally stop holding our breath with the news that it looks as though the structure of the cathedral itself is largely intact, protected in the greater part by the vault itself and, of course, by the heroic efforts of the Parisian Sapeurs/Pompiers. Had the wooden structures in the west towers – those that carry the enormous bells – caught light the story might have ended differently.

We know – not just from the pronouncements of Monsieur Macron – but also from past experiences at York Minster, Windsor Castle and Hampton Court Palace that the Notre Dame will be rebuilt. One might question the dedication of the requisite vast sums of money to such a cause; I for one would make the case in favour thereof…

…but that should in any case wait until another day.

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Photo by Andy Dawson Reid“In Paris they just simply opened their eyes and stared when we spoke to them in French! We never did succeed in making those idiots understand their own language.”

Mark Twain – The Innocents Abroad

Let it be said at once that in Montreal there is no need at all to try to make anyone understand their own language. The locals will – in a nanosecond – detect that French is not your native tongue, from which point on they simply abjure its use – effortlessly showing up your linguistic shortcomings and contriving so to do without effecting the distainful air that one so often encounters in Paris.

Should you, like us, have transported your existence to the paradise that is the west coast of Canada (some five and a half thousand miles distant from the European continent) but still on occasion find yourself assailed by yearnings for the sophistication and epicurean delights of the French capital… then Montreal is the perfect halfway house in which just such a fix may be obtained.

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidThis is specifically so of the old town, in which we are currently staying in a perfectly decent Air-B’n’B apartment. Unlike much else in Canada Vieux Montreal is properly old and has a strong European heritage. On our first day here we ventured forth looking for a suitable bistro. In the ‘Modavie’ we found one that was so French that we might easily have been in the backstreets of Paris itself.

The fare was excellent French bistro cooking, with a truly authentic Soupe a l’Oignon followed by a lamb burger made with pulled lamb for me and sea bass (really hard to find on the west coast) for The Girl. We wrapped up with a Pouding Chômeur which reminded The Girl of her childhood.

The evening was made, however, by the wonderful hospitality of our server – Caroline – and the larger than life maître d’ – Lorenzo Baldassarre – who went out of his way to make the occasion memorable.

Now – Canadians (and those who have visited) will need no convincing of the ‘Frenchness’ of Montreal. To others, have a look at the photos in this (and subsequent) posts and see what you think.

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson Reid

 

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…on our recent sojourn on the continent!

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson Reid

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A good photograph is knowing where to stand
Ansell Adams

I do not claim for a moment to know where to stand… but I cannot in any case resist posting some more random images from France.

This is La Rochelle – which we had not previously visited.

Photo by Andy Dawson Reid

These are random passing sights that took my fancy:

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson Reid

And this is from the Chateau de Tennessus:

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I must also at this point express hearty congratulations to the English ladies who triumphed against the Canadians in the Women’s Rugby World Cup on Sunday evening last in Paris. The Canadians were not by any means disgraced, having put up a really strong performance. They will certainly feature strongly in future competitions. The Kickass Canada Girl is just about speaking to me again!

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On our way to the charming region of the Poitou Charente that is to be our home for the next week we spent a couple of nights in what might best be described as a fairytale medieval castle – the Chateau de Tennessus. This twenty five year labour of love on the part of its English owners is a testament to what can be achieved if one is prepared to invest a simply extraordinary amount of work, art and money into what is quite clearly an overarching passion.

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson Reid

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england canadaAvid followers of these obscure obita dicta may well recognise the image at the top of this post. I used it for the occasion last year on which the Kickass Canada Girl and I ventured to the Twickenham Stoop to see the English ladies take on their Canadian counterparts at the ‘gentlemanly’ pastime of ‘rugger’. In that instance – to the Girl’s chagrin – the home team proved too strong for the visitors.

I re-use the image now because the two sides meet again this coming Sunday – but this time in Paris for the final of the Women’s Rugby World Cup! How exciting!

The English ladies have made a number of appearances in World Cup finals and have indeed once lifted the trophy. On the last few occasions, however, they have been well beaten by New Zealand – who were indeed favourites again for this tournament. Canada have not previously finished higher than seventh – so really are entering uncharted territory. The two sides have already met in the pool stages this time around – the result being a tantalising 13 all draw.

The Irish ladies did everyone a favour by knocking out the All Blacks but seemed by yesterday’s semi-final against England to have exhausted themselves in the process – the English romping home 40 – 7. The Canadians then opened up a good lead against the hosts – France – but had to endure sustained pressure in the closing 20 minutes – just holding on to go through 18 – 16.

We wish the very best of luck to both sides for Sunday.

As it happens we will be in France over the weekend – though not particularly close to Paris. This is probably a good thing since we would be very tempted to try to get to the game in spite of it already being a sell-out – the which itself is a fantastic result for the women’s game.

We are taking a brief break from the rigours of work and spending a week in the company of the good friends whose wedding we attended in Hong Kong a couple of years back. They have rented a gite in the Poitou Charente for three weeks and we will spend the first of those with them. We leave this very evening!

Expect photographs…

 

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The great beauty of the Fuji X10 is that it is small enough and light enough that it can simply be carried over my shoulder pretty much everywhere I go. It is also at the same time both versatile and yet simple to use. As a result I can quickly fire off shots whenever I see anything that tickles my fancy. The great step forward that digital represents, of course, is that one can execute as many such as one desires – with no cost implications and the ability to rapidly lose any results to which it is just too embarrassing to admit. Goodness knows how we managed in the days of film!

Herewith a few more snaps from our recent travels.

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson Reid Photo by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson Reid

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For our recently (and most sadly!) concluded sojourn in the Perigord we stayed in a beautiful apartment at a wonderful old manor house not far from Périgueux. Our hosts there – Catherine and Maxence – go out of their way to make their guests feel welcome, to the extent of introducing them to – and involving them in – the delights of life in the small village that is their home.  The house is called Le Maine and I encourage anyone seeking a tranquil and delightful stay in the region to investigate. We were in ‘La Cuisine d’Alice’ and we loved it! I can’t recommend it highly enough…

Herewith some images – although those on the site above (taken by Catherine – a professional photographer!) do the house and grounds considerably greater justice than ever I could.

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidIn addition to being a professional illustrator, Maxence (who teaches art and who also curated a splendid exhibition of Perigordine artists – to the opening of which we were invited) plays a mean harmonica! On our first night in the village he enticed us to the tiny but ‘happening’ local bar – Le Cube – where a completely splendid Anglo-French duo called Buckshee entertained us to a wild evening of French, Irish, Cajun, bluegrass, swing, rock and roll, calypso and soca musics. Great and sweaty fun!

The band’s website gives some idea as to their multi-instrumental capabilities. Not content simply to display their own array of talents they invited a local English lad (who is blessed with a great swing voice!) and Maxence onto the tiny ‘stage’ area to belt out a stomping version of Van Morrison’s ‘Moondance’. No photo could do this justice. This is a close as I could get…

Photo by Andy Dawson Reid

 

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