Au revoir

Paris in the spring, to Winnipeg still suffering from winter’s last blast… My last day in France was indeed spent in Paris, wandering around Montmartre and attending an open-air concert on the steps of an art gallery. After much rushing around (cleaning, packing, and the like) and not much sleep, my responsable accompanied me to the RER station. So began a long day of travel, from Sceaux, to Paris, to Montréal, to Toronto, and finally Winnipeg: where I arrived one week ago.

Seven and a half months in France that on some days felt like a lifetime; other days, it felt as though no time had passed at all. One week back in Canada and I feel as though I’d never left… but of course, whilst so much is the same, so much has changed too. There’s still more to say, more to tell. But for now, I’m just resting, adjusting, acclimatising…

9e arrondissement

Boulevard Haussmann, in Paris’ 9th district, is one of my favourite areas in the city. Lining the boulevard are the grands magasins, the large department stores: Printemps, Galeries Lafayette, H&M. Also in this district is the Opéra, head offices of several major banks, and of course the stereotypical Parisian apartments. It is bustling, crowded, and difficult to navigate on foot at all hours of the day and night. Business people rushing to and from sidewalk cafés during lunch hour (which lasts for at least 2 hours, of course); tourists stopping to photograph the elaborate department store window displays, which chang with the seasons and are always designed and executed by world-class artists; sidewalk vendors hawking a wide variety of goods; restaurant delivery drivers speeding by on their scooters (on the sidewalk, of course). Hang on to your purse and walk quickly, lest you be knocked down in the mad rush. Parisians are always rushing everywhere; I sometimes wonder if even they know why they’re in such a hurry.

I forgot to tuck my camera in my purse before leaving, so I have no photos of my own to share. It was a beautiful sunny day. The large trees lining both sides of the boulevard were overflowing with bright green leaves, the sky was blue, and even the locals seemed to be in a good mood. Or maybe that’s just because it’s Thursday, and many people seem to take Friday off. (And when they do that, they often also take Thursday afternoon off. Don’t ask me how they get away with it, but it’s apparently a very common practice here.) So who knows? Maybe these happy Parisians weren’t on their lunch breaks after all – maybe they were smiling because their work week was already finished.

I went in the grands magasins, tried on fabulously stylish clothes I can’t afford, and perused the fabulously overpriced accessories that I likely wouldn’t buy even if I could afford to do so (250€ for a thin spring scarf? I think not. And don’t even get me started on the shoes, the cheapest pair of which was 300€…) Basically, I played dress-up, and that was fine with me. I did get one summer shirt dress that was within my budget, then made my way back to the station because my feet were too sore to continue walking.

I arrived back at the school in Sceaux just as the afternoon recess break was beginning. Several English teachers were waiting for me in the staff room, to say goodbye. They gave me a card, and 2 gifts – a photography book of Paris, and a bottle of perfume! I received several requests to keep in touch, and a number of offers of letters of reference or recommendation, should I require them. As the impromptu “party” broke up as the bell rang, the teachers went back to their classes, saying they only hope that next year’s assistant will be as pleasant to work with and as good with their students as I was. See, that’s the kind of thing that makes me regret having to leave… OK, it’s not the only thing, but it does count!

Photo: savills.fr

Le chocolatier

I’ve been meaning to post something about this for awhile. You may remember a photograph I posted to this blog a few months ago, around Christmas time, of a large chocolate bear in a shop window. It was the holiday window display of Patrick Roger, a local chocolatier. I didn’t know it at the time, but have since discovered that he is in fact an award-winning chocolate maker and chocolate sculptor, who has several upmarket shops in Paris. His one location outside of Paris is the one in my town – it was his first store.

Upon the advice of colleagues, I ventured into his little shop for the first time several weeks ago. He had a stunning springtime/Easter display that had caused quite a crowd to form around the door. There were hedgehogs, chickens, gardens, huts, mice, trees – all made almost exclusively out of Roger’s chocolate and candied fruits. (The “eggs” above? Chocolate and candy. And below, a chick made of fruit paste – perched on real moss.)

Photos are not allowed in the shop, so these images are taken from his website, patrickroger.com. (Flash-heavy and slow loading, be warned.)

People raved about his chocolate, saying that he created flavour combinations that no chocolatier had ever tried before. I was told that I must try some before leaving. I was also told that it was rather pricey… Though when I walked in the shop and saw that the chocolates were 3€ each, with the average price of a small box at around 68€, it was still a bit of a shock. I couldn’t bring myself to buy anything! (Chocolate hedgehog with candy egg, above; a chocolate vegetable garden beside a chocolate hut, below.)

But as you know, I’m leaving soon. And I just had my last payday. So I thought: why not? This afternoon I went back to the shop and bought the smallest box of his signature chocolate, le Pavé de Sceaux: plain and lime ganache, and cocoa nougatine. One box, 29€.

If I had chosen according to filling, this is not the flavour I would have picked for myself, but since it’s his signature chocolate, and he named it after my town, where he got his start, I thought it was appropriate. And I wasn’t disappointed!

The thin outer shell of dark chocolate is incredibly smooth and melts almost as soon as it hits your tongue; the ganache and nougatine crumbles and forms a kind of paté in your mouth that then disappears very quickly, leaving almost no aftertaste. It’s not very sweet, it fills your mouth with flavour, and then it’s gone. Very good.

9 days…

Still so much I haven’t seen, haven’t done… but I suppose that’s always the case. I could spend a lifetime here and still not see all that there is to see.

So much to do… The cleaning and packing is daunting; this may be a small space that I’ve occupied for only a few months but I’ve still managed to accumulate a lot of stuff. Some of it will follow me back to Canada, if only I can find the space! Some of it will have to be left behind.

I’ll spend the next week and a half savouring the baguettes, the cheese, the fresh cream, the cheap local produce, and saying goodbye to those who have been my colleagues for the past several months. The students have already bid me farewell – one class gave me a gift, another sang for me, several said they would miss me. I will miss them too – well, maybe not all of them…