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Published: August 19th 2019
Galeríes Lafayette
The most famous department store in France. It holds over 3500 different items, services the wealthy, and is amazing to visit.As a concession for the blister on Sue’s toe from being led around Paris all day yesterday, we caught the Number 38 at the bus stop near our hotel this morning. I’m all heart.
We walked everywhere yesterday, and Sue didn’t complain once; and that’s the problem with walking with Sue. She is so stoic it borders on foolhardy. I’m not going to get into the Camino we did; ask Tim.
No one likes a whinger, but I’d love to hear about someone I’m with suffering in silence. I don’t bite.
Anyway, I bought some bandages, taped up the toe, and we bussed the longest trips today. It did the trick.
Our first destination was the famously extravagant and expensive Galeríes Lafayette, a department store known for stocking high end, exclusive brands. I saw a watch that costs €89,000, I kid you not.
When we first entered the store. Sue started looking at tops and other items, and the prices didn’t seem too high. As we wandered towards the central area , I didn’t notice the leadlight dome and atrium, looked more closely at my surroundings, and yes, we were in H&M, over the road. A
quick exit, a 30 metre walk, and we had gone from chips to caviar.
Sues jaw dropped. As we made our way past all the little brand outlets, I spotted pens, watches, bags and most things that aren’t clothes - I don’t do clothes as an interest - that were priced to kill. This store caters for an international clientele and places like China and the Middle East are a growing market.
We headed straight to the top for our purchase of a cup of coffee but we didn’t skimp, we had one each. To hell with the expense.
Visually satisfied, with my second coffee stowed away, we made our way to the Pompidou Centre, via Rue du Poissonniere, a popular walking strip with many food options and boutique specialty food shops, with an even mix of cheap tourist joints blended in. We bought a baguette, meat, a knife, and the bluest cheese available , and sat down on a low concrete ledge in the gardens of Forum des Halles, and made delicious fresh rolls to enjoy in the sun.
Then the rats appeared. They were quiet large but, all in all, very respectful of our
space. As we ate, and kept an eye on them, they seemed to jump up onto the ledge, or gamely venture out to the rubbish bins, but only after you had finished eating; the pigeons, - the rats of the sky - could do well to learn some manners from their land locked cousins. I went closer for a better look and about 8 rats who were squabbling over something, stopped, stared at me for a second, and they took off together into the scrub as if a starters gun had fired.
I think there may be more rats in Paris than people.
Something else I’ve noticed in the last 3 days is that, like in many cities, including Melbourne, migrants ( particularly Africans) are the mainstay of the service and sanitation industries, that keep us all safe, satisfied, and happy as we move around. And it’s done with a smile. Thanks to you all.
Where I live there is a large lettuce industry, employing many locals, but the worst jobs, braving the elements to grow the crops, are done by Chinese workers. Locals wouldn’t do it. I know exploitation can occur in these industries, but these
people work hard. Then some people complain because they do well. They deserve everything they get and often leave disadvantaged countries to improve their family’s lot in life.
Ok, I hear you; I’m off the soapbox.
The Pompidou Centre, just a stones throw from our rodent infested lunch spot, is a bright, industrial looking landmark, smack in the centre of gentrified Paris. Originally it was considered an undesirable eyesore in great conflict with the feel of Paris, but is now a cultural destination that strengthens Paris‘ claim to being an innovator of the art scene.
I’m no art buff. I like what I like - keep digging Steve - but some of this is not really art. Now I’ll be accused of being ignorant, a Luddite, and why did I even bother going.
Well, I love the building for starters. It is big and bold, sticks out like a sore thumb, but I defy anyone to not enjoy a visit. Most of the art is interesting, it is always open to your opinion, no one is wrong, but a black square on a white background is a start, not a completed work. Similarly, Picasso , a
renowned ladies man, interpreted the female image in a way that most women would consider unflattering. Most women think their eyes are aligned, their head is attached to their neck, and their body has a better shape than out of control play dough. What was he thinking?
Having said that, I like his work, and his early works were very conventional.
After a trip to the outdoor viewing area, we walked back to the main road, our road, and hopped on a bus. Sue thinks the climb up the stairs to our room is much easier today. Dinner will be in the Latin Quarter, about a 15 minute walk from here, so I’ll check in again tomorrow.
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