Walking without a donkey – travels in France

Walking without a donkey - travels in France

Walk Paris – Tuileries and the Seine

January 2023

A walk from the Tuileries Gardens (Louvre art gallery end) to the Pont Neuf, along the Seine, and back through the Tuileries Tunnel with art works. I aimed to walk through the tunnel in the other (west-east) direction, but couldn’t find the entrance. Google maps to the rescue! Note that it says ‘Closed’ though at the time of writing that means only to cars and lorries etc.

Come out of the Tuileries Gardens by the end of the Louvre (above) and instead of walking across the zebra crossing to the river, take a right on the same side (the barbed wire towering above you)

‘This is a Revolution’. Above the entrance to the Tuileries Tunnel

Tuileries Tunnel (Tuileries Gardens / Louvre) entrance

Walk along the Seine

The Seine river with the Pont des Arts in the distance. I was looking for some space and a more natural environment after many noisy walks across the city to and from work during the week.

A long row of luminous silver birches lines the River Seine

Look to your left for make-shift homes and art work. Signs indicating historical sites of interest and local history are on the walls too, including the story of the Washerwomen. During the18th century, more than 80 boats would have been moored along the banks of the Seine, each carrying 24 washerwomen (‘a gigantic laundry’). Others built a jetty, illegally, and stationed themselves there to hang out the washing to dry. Eventually the boats were condemned as a hindrance to river traffic, and ‘the smalls’ unseemly to be seen from the Louvre and the Tuileries Palace.

It looks like someone or some people are staying here under the bridge

Tuileries Tunnel

Details:

From the Tuileries Gardens (close to the Louvre art gallery) to half way between the Pont des Arts and the Pont Neuf on the north/right bank
800m long – once you’re in, there’s no escape
10 European street artists
Parallel to the Seine River
Open only to walkers and cyclists
Including Andrea Ravo Mattoni, Hydrane, Lek & Sowat, Bault, Ërell, Madame, Romain Froquet
Artistic direction: Nicolas Laugero Lasserre, with the support of the City of Paris

Text from the @m_a_d_a_m_e (below) ‘De l’obscur au clair ce n’est pas l’œil oui change mais la façon dont on Louvre’ meaning, approximately, ‘from dark to light, it’s not the eye that changes but the way we Louvre.’

The Tuileries Tunnel is a cross between a cold contemporary art gallery and a graffitied tunnel. With all the ambience of the Channel one (linking Dover and Calais), once you are in it you are only reminded of its Parisian location by occasional French texts. Overlaid now with random graffiti, it’s hard to distinguish between the original and later-added work.

Lighting changes colour like switching traffic beacons and affects the frescoes. Beam-me-up blue ones invite you to stand underneath, back to the sides – part interrogatory, part revelatory. Some works stretch along the walls, like the dancing figures or running wild animals, moving and flowing; others decorate with familiar blocks of primary coloured letters or the image of Frida Kahlo. All are constantly interacting with their audience, some concentrating only on running and others defacing them.

There isn’t one theme, though the fight for life and peace features strongly. The art works do not, collectively, tell a story, nor do they offer a message (unlike the Colinton Tunnel or No Birds Land in Edinburgh), though there is immense subtlety in some of them despite the conditions of the walls and the external temperature.

Half way through, I wasn’t sure I wanted to stay, but I had to either go back or on. There is a rawness in the air, a sense of disquiet, with none of the cosyness of a National Gallery or safety of a contemporary white box. Certainly there is impermanence – there are no guarantees that what you are witnessing will be there tomorrow.

Link to tourist website page about the Tuileries Tunnel

Nearest public toilets: Tuileries Gardens, Rue de Rivoli / Place des Pyramides entrance.

For a good takeaway try Aki Boulangerie, 16 Rue de Sainte-Anne, 75001 Paris (Japanese take-away meals: those works-of-art-cum-French-pâtisserie (cakes is too pedestrian a description), real delicacies. I had a briquette (I think it was called) sort of deep fried breadcrumbs outside with curried veg inside – delicious).

For the best, simple green tea served in the tiddliest teapot (there’s plenty – quality not quantity) in Paris (so far) try Atelier WM – 45 Rue de Richelieu, 75001 Paris, France

Have you been to the tunnel? What did you think? Please do leave a comment below.

Walking without a donkey - travels in France

Walking Paris with score #17

4 December 2021

The prompt came from Mathilda and Blake as part of the on-going series 52More. Mathilda walked in Paris and Blake in New York, connecting up in time and through the score – a faded green British Library card with random phrases pasted on it.

Before leaving London I visited the British Library. I forgot my card, though I had my Edinburgh City and National Library of Scotland cards on me.

I bought 3 presents, one for each of my hostesses in France’s capital city, put each in a scarlet paper bag with BL on them, and promptly left them all at St Pancras in my rush to board the Eurostar.

My moment of immediate excitement – the French flag flying above the Gare du Nord

I am here to teach Shiatsu, a form of Japanese / South East Asian bodywork. Shi means fingers, atsu, pressure. These hands spoke to me amongst the industrial units on my walk through Barbes.

On Linda’s table, were feathers in all shapes and sizes, not identical to the ones I have been collecting on my walks since the start of lockdown 1.

I walked on the Petite Ceinture with my friend, Alain. It’s an ex-railway, now used by walkers.

It’s not exactly the subway, but it passes below street level and tunnels are dotted along it, not unlike my Trinity Tunnel on the Edinburgh cycle path.

Shiatsu practitioner and teacher, Alain Tauch

At the Musée Cernuschi, I found more Cranes (I was with them at the National Museum of Scotland a few days ago), symbols of longevity and immortality because they were believed to live for 1000 years. Their feathers were SMALL BITS of beautiful sculpture from the Japanese Edo Period, 1603-1868.

Feathers and birds everywhere in Paris, France

I enjoyed the smile on the face of the qin zither player, an entertainer from the Han period (25-220).

This is the lid (in the form of a mountain) of a funerary object.

Sitting on the highest point, closest to heaven, he has transformed metaphysically, as depicted by his extended head, signalling that the energy of his crown chakra is so developed that he has achieved something akin to enlightenment.

Blake Morris @formerfresnan (twitter) @blakewalks (Insta)

Mathilda @thetravelingtype_ and https://www.wildlyidle.com/

Walking without a donkey - travels in France

Charenton-le-Pont to Richard – Lenoir: Paris walk

Charenton-le-Pont to Richard-Lenoir métro 5. 5 kms (Charenton-Ecoles metro, Place du Cardinal Lavigerie, Avenue Jean Jaurés, Rue Claude Decaen, Place Félix Eboué, Rue de Reuilly, Rue Faidherbe, Rue Godefroy Caraignac, Square Saint Aboise, Boulevard Voltaire, 11th arrondissement, Richard-Lenoir métro).

Parc Zoologique de Paris.

I was deposited by my bla bla car from Reims in an area I had never previously visited. I decided to walk the Maria Canal for my Seiki Shiatsu workshop with Catherine Dompas, but I dawdled so much, I had to take the tube the rest of the way!

Where people live – I have seen this all over London and Paris recently: more people made homeless by the rich-poor divide.

Circus Big top, Cirque Pinder, glimpsed through the fence.

Wherever you go in Paris there’s something lovely to see amidst the blocks of flats, supermarkets and cafés.

Beautiful sun throwing shadows.

Église de Saint-Esprit.

There is a garden in front of the Saint Aboise Church in memory of the Monks of Tibhirine (Algeria). They were horrifically murdered in their Abbey during the Algerian Civil War. A French film was made about it, Of Gods and Men, was awarded the Grand Prix at Cannes in 2010.

To get to Richard-Lenoir métro from Boulevard Voltaire you take a left and walk through a public gardens with vines and a playpark.

An impressive floral display for the end of October.

Other walks in Paris

Gare de Lyon to Villa Sainte Croix

Villa Sainte Croix to Musée Eugene Délacroix

Walking Paris with Score #17

Tuileries Gardens and Art Tunnel

Walking without a donkey - travels in France

Nature pleases – Picardy 4

End of October 2018

Wu Chi – undifferentiated timelessness, the un-manifest aspect of the Tao. In peacock feathers from garden birds.

I enjoyed teaching an introduction to Chi Gung for a group of Masters students (Greek, Dutch, American) from the Netherlands before I left. Their performances at Thursday’s showcase were stimulating: a two-hander addressing non-binary issues in an appropriately naïve style, and a quirky performed reading reminding me of the toymaker in Copélia.

View from the garden. It was colder in the final days, but I still did T’ai Chi there in the morning sun.

Delicate ivy ‘drawings’ on the wall.

Silver birch bark – surely the origin of the design of camouflage clothing!

Autumn leaf burning by E. I sat and watched the burning embers and the small flames lick as the sky darkened. The fire was still warm in the morning.

The walk back to the station took me past Halloween house decorations, the luminous sumac tree, and a village hall (last time the gate was shut and I couldn’t see in, so this time I crept up and peered in the window – they were all playing cards in there!) Then there were two furry friendly (hungry?) donkeys who I was instructed not to feed, and several people who kindly stopped to offer me a lift, which I declined so I could walk.

Sumac tree.

The WW1 memorial for the dead soldiers, significant given that the topic of my studies is death.

German troops occupied these small villages between 19 14-18. Britain helped out. There are information boards all along the roads of this area of Picardy with photos of these times.

Strips of roots growing across the bottom of the tree.

A whorl of bark.

Flowers found at ground level on the pavement.

Outside the old school is this lovely sundial with the inscription La grive aux raisins (thrush with grapes is a delicacy and also the name of the local newsletter) and on the gate of the village room.

View from the train to Reims.

Another sundial, a giant one in Reims lit up in the night. Cadrans Solaire de la Marne, also connected to WW1 as the River Marne, site of the battles of 1914 and 1918 where the German advancements were halted.

From the back of a toilet door at Le Maryland bar in Reims – not so very respectful of our monarch!

This bar is near the Cathedral and I do not recommend it as it was full of smokers and smoke, and with men making not so-funny remarks. I didn’t feel comfortable there on my own.

Sculpture by Armelle Blary https://armelleblary.com in a window in Reims – inspired by the work of Louise Bouregeois I would guess.

Les bunnies. At the home of Julie Martin who was my bla bla car driver 10 days before and who kindly invited me to stay on my return. Together with her lovely flatmate, Marie, I was cooked two sorts of crêpes which were delicious.

Many thanks to them for their hopitality. Check out their innovate business: Be Vegetal My Friend which offers all sorts of workshops with plants and flowers, plus you can see Julie demonstrating what she does, and go there to get designs for your wedding or event.

Julie Martin, Be Vegetal My Friend, in her element!

Reims Tourist Information

Walking without a donkey - travels in France

Quiet moments – Picardy 3

Nearing the end of October, Northern France

Yesterday I lay down on my back to do my exercises under a tree with my eyes closed. I was focusing on my breath and muscles, moving through my paces. I opened them on hearing a tweet and there, in the spreading branches (don’t they always spread?) and bright leaves, was one, no, two, a whole flock of little birds with long tails bobbing up and down, jutting their tiny heads and flitting fast from place to place. I couldn’t see their backs because I was underneath, but there were hints of pink adding to the brown and beige. They took no notice of me, which was nice.

As I watched, a beastie with many legs crawled up the edge of my arm and onto the top; another one went in and, thankfully, out of my ear; an ant went all round my knee.

When I went to the loo I sprayed soft moss fronds and scratchy bits of autumn twig on the floor!

Later sitting at my desk, writing, the lime greenery was only broken by the odd brown leaf and matching beech nuts opening their hard lips to the air. From the first floor I am half way up where the branches are thinner. It all shivers and sways gently, not much, almost settling, continuing its dialogue with the breeze.

Shadows on my bedroom wall from that same tree outside, like an old sepia shot.

This morning I stood beside another one to do my T’ai Chi. Just as I got to move 134 I found myself back at thirty something so I completed almost a whole second round (140 in total). I got slower and slower. In the fog I saw the tips of my fingers, covered in fine rain, shift in my peripheral vision and I felt myself sink a little.

A bit sun bleached, this photo, but it shows the thin horizontals between branches. I’ve not noticed them before.

It’s trunk was very quiet, half in, half out of the ground. I couldn’t see it move although I knew it was, inside. It stood there before I got here of course, and stands there now. I tried to emulate it. I thought of the tree, being in all weathers; watching people, animals and insects coming and going over the years. The wind rustled it. Then did the same to my hair. I stood, learning.

Then I stood still, ‘standing like a tree’ (it’s a chi gung exercise). It was lighter now (approaching 7am). I enjoyed it.

First in shoulder stand and then bottom in the air – the world looked lovely even upside down looking between my legs.

After I gave Shiatsu to a wood worker this morning, I left him on the mat and walked to the window. High on the second floor I was level with the top of the tree and there was a woodpecker. No, really. Right there. Black and white all down its back with a red top knot and knickers. The window was closed, but I saw it noiselessly tapping inbetween tilting its head to the right as if looking to see if anyone was coming.

When I looked back into the room and asked how L was doing, he said “floating” and then there was a wait. From inside himself with his eyes tight shut he added, “my body’s fizzing”.

I didn’t try to take a photo of the woodpecker in case I disturbed it. However this little critter, a ladybird, was on my last piece of apple (from the tree in the garden) when I came back in.

Walk along the Seine

Tuileries Tunnel

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