On the Rive Gauche

After class on Tuesday, I had decided to do a couple of things that had been at the top of my priority list for a few days. Meg and Kenny both liked the sound of my plan, and so we all headed for the nearest suitable bus stop, my newly beloved mode of transport featuring heavily in my plan. We had agreed to meet at the girls’ place for a meal with a former St Andrews professor at 6, so we made the most of the intervening time.

Up at Saint-Michel (less rain this time), we ran into an interesting political rally, about the problem of visas for immigrant workers.

After a book shop stop (grammar book for Meg, Camille – the ballet we were just about to see – for me) and a food stop (we discovered a pleasant and cheap Greek/Turkish place, just off the tourist drag), we hit Saint-Severin, an appealing left-bank church. It was light and spacious, with a “forest” of pillars behind the altar and modern stained-glass windows representing the sacraments in colour!

Best of all, there was an American youth choir from Iowa rehearsing as we arrived, and they sounded great. As we considered leaving, they began the concert proper, so we spent a very pleasant half an hour to forty minutes listening to their variety of pieces. Here’s a brief clip or two.

See also Meg’s post for more on the choir.

Not far from St-Severin is the famous bookshop Shakespeare & Company – responsible for publishing in days gone by (such as James Joyce’s Ulyssees) and now an iconic left-bank centre for the literate, English-speaking Parisian.

We spent a bit of time there, with Meg and Kenny revelling in the children’s section upstairs.

Then, outside, we hunted for the oldest tree in Paris (identification uncertain) which is reputedly to be found in the garden of St-Julien-le-Pauvre. Sadly, the church was closed at that time of day, so we’ll have to return, and we decided to head over the Seine to the Île-St-Louis.

On the way, we walked across the eastern tip of the Ile de la Cité and saw the underground Memorial to the Deportation, commemorating the 200, 000 French people deported east during the war.

The Ile St-Louis was part of the original mediaeval centre of Paris, and still quite separate in character from the rest of the city. It is small, however, so we covered most of the island quite quickly, before finding the local church of St-Louis.

Inside, I decided that this was probably my favourite church so far, aesthetically. It was light and simply designed, with white and gold (I like that in a church) and vaguely modern side chapels.

After the church, we quit the island and after an absurdly long commute by bus and metro (which did, after all, involve a fair bit of hanging around at Place de la Bastille), we got to see the girls’ flat in the 18e, a former shop and generally quirky space, and had a good evening.