Brushstrokes

Our hotel street is canyon-like with six-story buildings lining each side of the street. About 5 in the afternoon we heard what appeared to be a brass band coming up the street. Turns out it was three men, two had trumpets, one had a type of harmonica....pulling a boom box. The boom box had the background music for a "Tijuana Brass Type" song. The three trumpeters and the harmonica guy played along. They were quite good. Their music resonated as it bounced among the buildings.
I opened our fourth story windows for a better look and sound. They looked up at the apartments and hotel rooms for people and many tossed out coins.
I knew that if I tossed them a 20 Euro note they would bemoan their fate.
I tossed a 2 Euro coin from the fourth floor window....narrowly missing the parked Jag below. The street musicians acknowledged the contribution and continued playing as they wandered up the street.
You gotta be creative to be a street artist in Paris.


We were pleased to see that the neighborhood street fair/second-hand flea market was still on for Sunday. It did pose a problem when walking the four blocks to get out of our area but it was great to be in on a typical Parisian event, one that tourists would not know about.

But about six blocks away as we got closer to the Saint Madeleine area we hit another street side flea market. They are pretty much like any flea market you would find in the States. Granted, they were a bit heavy with old French lanuage magazines and perhaps a few more copies of Josephine Baker at the Follies than one would find in the Short North, but otherwise, lots of fun.

My eyes glaze over when I try to find or buy something at an auction or flea market. I love being there and being among the people but I am not a buyer....a looker is all. But, Makaila went to work.

After a while, she found THE old necklace to remember her week in Paris. The seller was a young man who switched to English quickly and said it was 25 Euros...."best price....20 Euros." Sold. Wrap it up. He didn't even have to moan about being handed a 20 Euro note since it WAS 20 Eruos.

Down the block Makaila found a small key that would go great on a small necklace chain. The older couple knew little English but everyone knows 5 fingers or 7 fingers and with that, Makaila had a 7 Euro small-key necklace and we were off to the Eiffel Tower.

Have you ever seen a movie where the beautiful woman or the high school prom goer slowly and grandly makes an entrance into the room with her gorgeous gown. The music swells and all eyes are focus on the stars beauty (yes, yes, this scenario goes both ways....sometimes we see the gorgeous man slowly enter the casino where he will soon wreak havoc on the international villans but before that we have to see him in his Tux with Cartier cuff links). Anyway.....I, like you have seen photos of the Eiffel Tower since I was three. And since then we have known it was in Paris. At age 60 I am finally there. I am not about to appoach it via a crowded nearby neighborhood street.

So we head for the Louvre Area. Cross the Seine and begin to see the Tower make its "entance" in the distance.

We keep walking so that we can walk strait towards it along whatever boulevard goes to it and....we get closer.

We are getting more and more impressed as we near the structure but are baffled by the stone/dirt/dust all the way to the Tower. Back in the state of Washington where we lived in the extreme NE Corner of that state, we would get a lot of snow up there near the Canadian border. The road department, in order to keep the roads passable, would plow and "sand" the highways with this pebble and dust concoction. It was great for winter time driving. By some odd stroke of fate, I find that the boulevard gardens leading up to the Eiffel Tower in Paris has this same road mixture. But this is Paris.

When the wind kicked up...so did the dust. Both in Metaline Falls, Washington and in Paris France. Is Paris behind the times or is Metaline Falls a trend setter? I was expecting cobble stones and maybe mosaic tiled sidewalks. Lisbon has those....everywhere. But Paris.....in front of the Eiffel Tower.....has had the road crew of Pend O' Rey County Washington level and grade and distribute road pebbles for the Eiffel Tower. Metaline Falls had a huge cement plant in town and it left klinker dust all over the town....the same stuff blowing around near the Eiffel Tower.

I was the only one at the Eiffel Tower on Sunday thinking of the road clearing effects of sand and cement dust. Most everyone else was focused on the Tower. We soon were too.

It was startlingly beautiful. And the crowds were not bad. We got in line and within 20 minutes were on the second level (the top was closed, but would open later.) I think level two gave us all the sights we needed. It was great fun. I am not certain how crowded the railings could get on an August day and the railings were all pretty much occupied, but we could easily shift from one side of the Tower to the other. Each time marvelling at the view of Paris and the Seine.

How many views does one need? I had to take in enough to last me for the rest of my life. I tip my hat to Paris for such a marvelous structure, even as I try to clear the cement dust from my eyeballs. We decided to walk the stairs down from the second level. It was easy and enjoyable...especially passing the tourists who had started at the first level and then walked to the second. They were puffing.

And once back down on the ground, I decided I had seen enough men selling Eiffel Tower models to last me a life time. But we headed across the Seine and found a park bench and sat and marveled at the Tower as we ate lunch. It does not even appear to be made of steel. It's like someone took a brush and painted it delicately on the landscape. The most impressive human-made structure that I have seen. It was hard to leave it. We kept taking photos from this and that angle.

We took in as much of the Eiffel Tower as we could and then turned our backs on it and slowly walked the neighborhoods over to the Champs Elysee.

Peace,  Bob