Paris Werewolves

  Sixth Arrondissement, actually. But I could have sworn this mascaron was supposed to represent Dr. Zaius  from the 1968 movie. Which makes no sense until you recall that the film was based on French author Pierre Boule's 1963 novel La planète des singes . Which still makes no sense. But then again, monkeys are not unheard of in Paris. A far away planet or the distant future?

Wandering from Parc Georges Brassens--which sits on the site of Paris's old horse meat slaughterhouses--to the now defunct railroad tracks where the viande chevaline was shipped out to wherever butcher shops were still selling it in the 1970s, we came across this mural on the side of a building that houses offices for maternal and child protective services. Sugar sits for scale. What looks like a tower with pink smokestacks is actually a long, narrow building that was seemingly squeezed onto an embankment overlooking the tracks. Office workers on the the left (north) side's higher floors should be able to see the small pinot noir vineyard in the park.

One of France's mighty rivers--represented in Horse form, Place de Terraux. Lyon bills itself as France's culinary capital--most restaurants per capita, most Michelin stars in France (excepting Paris itself), serving traditional fare such as saucisse lyonnaise and quenelles de brochet Nantu (baked pike dumplings in a creamy langoustine sauce). And without exception, the food quality and dining experiences were outstanding. The city had a harder time putting its best foot forward, though. We got off the high-speed rail at Gare Part-Dieu to quite a bit of street desperation--not quite East Oakland and nowhere near as desperate as downtown LA, but a bit surprising compared to most other places we've been in France so far. The Croix Rousse neighborhood, the historic center of the silk-making trade that was the source of Lyon's wealth for centuries, was covered in bad graffiti--and by bad, I mean random scrawlings, nothing that even attempted guerrilla art or murals and not

The eyes of Bowie are upon you.  

What I like best about this mascaron is how the eyes seem to follow you no matter which way you walk.

  Paris is not the only city where people make pilgrimages to the resting places of the great and the good. Luxor comes to mind. But Paris seems to have more than its fair share of "must-see" dead people who draw crowds year-in and year-out. There are of course the catacombs, the vast network of underground quarry tunnels where in the 1700s and 1800s skeletons from several overflowing Parisien cemeteries were relocated for hygienic reasons and structurally (and often touchingly) arranged. Oscar Wilde's tomb in Père Lachaise cemetery became so damaged from lipstick smooches that in 2011 officials erected a glass barrier around it. Sad old stoners still leave junk all over Jim Morrison's grave--a bust of the singer was defaced and eventually stolen by "fans" in the 1980s. And of course the Emperor Napoleon I reposes in the Dome of the Hôtel des Invalides at the bequest of King Louis-Phillipe. That's as close as Sugar will get to any Emperor, dead or alive.

I can't imagine owning a car in Paris--too much traffic, too little parking, too many strange intersections, and too many better public transit options. But tons of people do, usually newer, fuel-efficient or electric small- to mid-size models. I have noticed that electric options seem to be bumping up some vehicle sizes to near-US levels for minivan/crossover models (e.g., the massive Volvo XC90 will get a direct replacement in the EX90). If true, that will be a bummer for the supply chain of batteries and all the carbon-intensive rare-earth materials that go into making them--but still a better option than the swarms of cheap, dirty, leaf-blower-powered scooters that vastly outnumber passenger cars in Paris (in the streets and on the sidewalks) and that currently enable many Parisiens' order-on-demand lifestyles. But some gearheads (or cheapskates) over here are getting the most out of their older model cars. As long as I don't have to drive or ride in them, I can appreci

The Basilique Cathédrale de Saint-Denis is just a 45 minute metro ride from our apartment. It's notable mainly for two things: it's the first example of what is considered Gothic architecture (e.g. the rose window and lots of other glass to light the interior, vaulted ceilings with cross-ribs); it contains (or once contained) the remains of most of France's kings and queens going to back to the Frankish King Dagobert who died in 639. Exterior views of the Basilique Cathédral de Saint-Denis. I've been in some very old churches , but Saint-Denis--from the 12th and 13th century--showed none of the typical decay and gloom. The gargoyles and demons crawling around the exterior all seemed to have their snouts and horns mostly intact, and the interior was bright and free of mold and mildew. This is in spite of the fact that the church was sacked and abandoned during the Revolution, and by the time of Napoleon I's ascension birds and grasses had taken over in the nave. The