from Paris: traveling

The next twelve hours are in flight and so posting will be a touch delayed. But I'll come back to Sunday for sure, the minute I touch down in the States.

A hint -- on this day, I did what hundreds, nay, thousands of Parisians (and others) did. Picture it: a perfect, lightly sunny day in the Ile de France. Where might you go? What might you do? When might you eat?

Another hint: I kept seeing, intermittently, this:




More later.

from Paris: traveling

The next twelve hours are in flight and so posting will be a touch delayed. But I'll come back to Sunday for sure, the minute I touch down in the States.

A hint -- on this day, I did what hundreds, nay, thousands of Parisians (and others) did. Picture it: a perfect, lightly sunny day in the Ile de France. Where might you go? What might you do? When might you eat?

Another hint: I kept seeing, intermittently, this:




More later.

from Paris: different tastes

I never had the time to set the context for this trip. There’s the work part (trivial, consisting of one meeting, to the point that even IRS would not regard the hop over here as ‘work related’ and as far as I can figure out, the IRS is generous in its definitions). And then, there’s also the week-end part.

I’m not alone (no no, my occasional travelling companion regards this as a perfect occasion to stay home and do guy things – oh, like clearing barns and repairing crankshafts, so I am not here with him) and so I am looking at Paris through the eyes of others.

This is, by the way, an unusual time to be in Paris. France is hosting the World Rugby Tournament. It is a BIG DEAL event. I knew that when I booked a room way back in April. Prices are adjusted to reflect this golden moment in sports history. Uff! And there are banners and balloons and rugby t-shirts and special rugby menus in most places. And big screens showing the games.

So there’s that.

It is also fashion week. But I know very little about what’s at stake here. I have seen no model or designer of note and I say this in part because I would not really know how to spot one. All French women look to me like they have stepped out of a magazine page.

That’s the context.

A commenter asked for a photo of wine. I’m obliging. Here it is. Though not of our wine – this one is of a bottle shared by two, enamored with each other, on a quiet square in the middle of the island (Isle de la Cite) right there on the River Seine.




And, while we’re on the subject of lovers – at a distance, and on the river Seine, here’s another shot, reflecting the pink of adoration and of a perfectly beautiful late September evening:





These are unusual shots. They show off the quieter spaces of Paris. I’m going to flip over to the morning now, spent chasing one masterpiece after another. So, any idea why there’s a small crowd here?





Sure, it’s too see the Monalisa. I did not take a photo of her. And you know what she looks like anyway. Indeed, you were not permitted to take a photo of her, though not a single person followed that rule. The guards shrugged. The sign had said the photo ban was there for the most popular canvases, so that everyone could contemplate them in peace. Right.

In another museum, next to another small masterpiece, a solo visitor had a chance to take his own private photo.





And in the next room, a guard was listlessly staring into space. How much can you take of a waterlily canvas in a day?





Outside, the streets were filled with late Saturday shoppers. Nothing draws as big a crowd as a bakery with the afternoon allocation of baguettes, or a pastry shop where you can pick up something for le week-end. I regard Pierre Hermes as the best of the best. So do others.





A week-end in Paris. To be licked and savored and stored, so that on a more placid day back home, where it’s bike, work, bike, cook, work, sleep, I can think back to the taste of deep chocolate or cassis icecream.





Or to thoughts of dinner, across the table from other traveling companions…





…enjoying this gingered apple dish, with a crème brulee topping.

from Paris: different tastes

I never had the time to set the context for this trip. There’s the work part (trivial, consisting of one meeting, to the point that even IRS would not regard the hop over here as ‘work related’ and as far as I can figure out, the IRS is generous in its definitions). And then, there’s also the week-end part.

I’m not alone (no no, my occasional travelling companion regards this as a perfect occasion to stay home and do guy things – oh, like clearing barns and repairing crankshafts, so I am not here with him) and so I am looking at Paris through the eyes of others.

This is, by the way, an unusual time to be in Paris. France is hosting the World Rugby Tournament. It is a BIG DEAL event. I knew that when I booked a room way back in April. Prices are adjusted to reflect this golden moment in sports history. Uff! And there are banners and balloons and rugby t-shirts and special rugby menus in most places. And big screens showing the games.

So there’s that.

It is also fashion week. But I know very little about what’s at stake here. I have seen no model or designer of note and I say this in part because I would not really know how to spot one. All French women look to me like they have stepped out of a magazine page.

That’s the context.

A commenter asked for a photo of wine. I’m obliging. Here it is. Though not of our wine – this one is of a bottle shared by two, enamored with each other, on a quiet square in the middle of the island (Isle de la Cite) right there on the River Seine.




And, while we’re on the subject of lovers – at a distance, and on the river Seine, here’s another shot, reflecting the pink of adoration and of a perfectly beautiful late September evening:





These are unusual shots. They show off the quieter spaces of Paris. I’m going to flip over to the morning now, spent chasing one masterpiece after another. So, any idea why there’s a small crowd here?





Sure, it’s too see the Monalisa. I did not take a photo of her. And you know what she looks like anyway. Indeed, you were not permitted to take a photo of her, though not a single person followed that rule. The guards shrugged. The sign had said the photo ban was there for the most popular canvases, so that everyone could contemplate them in peace. Right.

In another museum, next to another small masterpiece, a solo visitor had a chance to take his own private photo.





And in the next room, a guard was listlessly staring into space. How much can you take of a waterlily canvas in a day?





Outside, the streets were filled with late Saturday shoppers. Nothing draws as big a crowd as a bakery with the afternoon allocation of baguettes, or a pastry shop where you can pick up something for le week-end. I regard Pierre Hermes as the best of the best. So do others.





A week-end in Paris. To be licked and savored and stored, so that on a more placid day back home, where it’s bike, work, bike, cook, work, sleep, I can think back to the taste of deep chocolate or cassis icecream.





Or to thoughts of dinner, across the table from other traveling companions…





…enjoying this gingered apple dish, with a crème brulee topping.

From Paris: how many ways? (with a post scriptum on wi-fi and coffee)

…do you say I love you? And how many ways can you say it rained today? Some possibilities (in reverse-chronological order, for a change):



dinner: dessert




evening: sent to the store




gray riverbank, turning leaves




empty chairs

A post scriptum: Paris Notes

Why are the mayors of New York and Chicago visiting Paris this week? To study the launching of free Wi-Fi in all the major Parisian parks and other public spaces (at noon today). The service, according to Le Figaro, will be available until the closing of the parks each evening, except on Le Champs du Mars, where it will be available round the clock.

And so the empty chairs will not remain empty today (it helps that the weather has improved).

But it leads me to wonder -- where are the great public spaces in Chicago? Or in Madison, for that matter, where the launching of WiFi has been a bust, both for technical reasons and, well, because it was never to be free.

In another unrelated piece of news, I read that Starbucks has been a complete failure in Paris. Dubbed here the McDonalds of coffee, it is mostly shunned, scorned and ignored. No comment. Or, okay, one comment: who the hell needs Starbucks in Paris?

From Paris: how many ways? (with a post scriptum on wi-fi and coffee)

…do you say I love you? And how many ways can you say it rained today? Some possibilities (in reverse-chronological order, for a change):



dinner: dessert




evening: sent to the store




gray riverbank, turning leaves




empty chairs

A post scriptum: Paris Notes

Why are the mayors of New York and Chicago visiting Paris this week? To study the launching of free Wi-Fi in all the major Parisian parks and other public spaces (at noon today). The service, according to Le Figaro, will be available until the closing of the parks each evening, except on Le Champs du Mars, where it will be available round the clock.

And so the empty chairs will not remain empty today (it helps that the weather has improved).

But it leads me to wonder -- where are the great public spaces in Chicago? Or in Madison, for that matter, where the launching of WiFi has been a bust, both for technical reasons and, well, because it was never to be free.

In another unrelated piece of news, I read that Starbucks has been a complete failure in Paris. Dubbed here the McDonalds of coffee, it is mostly shunned, scorned and ignored. No comment. Or, okay, one comment: who the hell needs Starbucks in Paris?

from Paris: landmarks

Too hard? The previous post was from the Luxembourg Gardens in Paris. And the sauce in the second photo is, in my opinion, a give-away. Mmmm.

But, for the traditionalists, I'll throw in the photos that tell all. [Just photos for now. My meeting is about to begin.]



fall trees




sea of cars on the Champs




bicycles tour and the Louvre




city bikes




in front of Les Deoux Magots




woman and dog




Paris metro

from Paris: landmarks

Too hard? The previous post was from the Luxembourg Gardens in Paris. And the sauce in the second photo is, in my opinion, a give-away. Mmmm.

But, for the traditionalists, I'll throw in the photos that tell all. [Just photos for now. My meeting is about to begin.]



fall trees




sea of cars on the Champs




bicycles tour and the Louvre




city bikes




in front of Les Deoux Magots




woman and dog




Paris metro

from ?

So where am I this week-end? (You can't show off your superior knowledge if I happen to have told you in advance).

A hint (no, it's not Madison, shot from the Olbrich Gardens):





Still too hard? Okay. For dinner, as a first course, I had this (it's a mushroom and eggs dish):





Give up? Come back later. I'm bound to spill all.

from ?

So where am I this week-end? (You can't show off your superior knowledge if I happen to have told you in advance).

A hint (no, it's not Madison, shot from the Olbrich Gardens):





Still too hard? Okay. For dinner, as a first course, I had this (it's a mushroom and eggs dish):





Give up? Come back later. I'm bound to spill all.

minimalism, continued

definition of minimalism: a style or technique (as in music, literature, or design) that is characterized by extreme spareness and simplicity.

See you tomorrow.

minimalism, continued

definition of minimalism: a style or technique (as in music, literature, or design) that is characterized by extreme spareness and simplicity.

See you tomorrow.

minimalism

Expect minimalism here, on Ocean. Today and tomorrow. I have a long week-end away ahead of me and an endless number of projects that need my gentle touch before I leave.

The reasons for this particular trip across the ocean are not of importance here. I will say that there is very little work involved and what work there is will be most pleasant indeed, as it will be conducted in a café.

I have been asked if I mind the long journey for such a short, short spell over there, you know, where I’m going. I should mind, I know I should, but I mind it no more than I mind a ride on a cold bus or a night with too little sleep and too much casebook reading. Besides, fewer nights there means less spent on hotels. So it’s a bargain! Of sorts.

But really, there isn’t a lot these days that bothers me. Rudeness, meanness – the usual culprits, typically coming from the usual suspects. Other than that, days are filled with a mixture of gentle inclines and downspurts, like an a bikeride across the hills of south-central Wisconsin. All you can hope for is good weather and a huge supply of energy and recently, I have had both.

[Though today, the weather turned on me. That’s okay, I was working. At home. Inside, looking out:]

minimalism

Expect minimalism here, on Ocean. Today and tomorrow. I have a long week-end away ahead of me and an endless number of projects that need my gentle touch before I leave.

The reasons for this particular trip across the ocean are not of importance here. I will say that there is very little work involved and what work there is will be most pleasant indeed, as it will be conducted in a café.

I have been asked if I mind the long journey for such a short, short spell over there, you know, where I’m going. I should mind, I know I should, but I mind it no more than I mind a ride on a cold bus or a night with too little sleep and too much casebook reading. Besides, fewer nights there means less spent on hotels. So it’s a bargain! Of sorts.

But really, there isn’t a lot these days that bothers me. Rudeness, meanness – the usual culprits, typically coming from the usual suspects. Other than that, days are filled with a mixture of gentle inclines and downspurts, like an a bikeride across the hills of south-central Wisconsin. All you can hope for is good weather and a huge supply of energy and recently, I have had both.

[Though today, the weather turned on me. That’s okay, I was working. At home. Inside, looking out:]

from UP to UW: warm weather thoughts

Yesterday, having in complete laziness taken multiple hours to cross a small lake by canoe, I began to think that this cottage by the lake thing wasn’t such a bad idea. I pictured week-ends “up north,” summer, fall, even winter breaks up around here, maybe with snow shoe hikes and midnight skating on the lake. Berry picking, too. This is Michigan – land of the blueberry, right?

It has been said of me that I fall for things with reckless abandon.

Ed burst that bubble fast enough. Vacation home? That’s rich people’s talk.

He is, of course, correct. No matter. I had only been daydreaming about how to treat the million I’m likely to get for publishing my book. The one that I need time to write. The one that crawls along at a sentence a day. That one.

But a few hours out on a lake, two lakes in fact, joined together by this stream…




… does funny things to the mind.

In the late afternoon, we turned off the electricity, the water, drained the pipes, locked the doors and turned south, following the long trail of cars home. With only an occasional pause, to let the important residents of this region get to the other side.





Today, it’s back to the books. And the routine of bike, work, bike, cook, work, sleep.

I did note that I’m not the only one especially attached to my bike routines. It seemed this day was “take your bike to Bascom Mall” day. Who needs a bike rack on a day like this…

[That’s Bascom Mall for you: to the left, to the right, looking up, looking down. The first photo includes, of course, the buildings of our Law School.]
















It’s the persistently hot weather, I tell you. Can’t get tight about anything. Ride, rest, read, rest, read, ride. The patterns of a late September summerlike day.