The Paris Blog: Paris, France Expat Tips & Resources » Quiet Time

Knit Wits

Colleens Paris — Fri, 27 Jan 2012 17:06:08 +0000

Grab your knitting needles, embroidery threads, patchwork and hoops. The Paris Needlework Fair (l’Aiguille en Fête) takes place in February (February 9 and 12, 2012). The fair is not restricted to age or gender. The men are knitting along side the women and there is even a sporting event: Speed Knitting! The annual Paris needlework fair began in 2004, and continues to grow and attract talent from around the world. Susan O’Connor is flying in from Australia giving special classes in English. Her classes (January 31, February 1, 2 and 3) are being held at the famous Au Ver à Soie. The cornflower pinball and scissor sheath class is being held on Wednesday February 1 and the stumpwork class is on Friday, February 3.

>more

RIP Shakespeare & Co’s George Whitman

Secrets of Paris — Wed, 21 Dec 2011 01:56:26 +0000

George Whitman, the founder of the famous Shakespeare & Company Bookshop, passed away at the age of 98 on December 14th. Originally from America, he opened Le Mistral Bookshop in the Latin Quarter in 1951, changing the name to Shakespeare & Company to honor of Sylvia Beach’s original shop near Odéon, which closed during WWII. Most people know it as the historic home of the Beat Generation poets and writers, or for today’s annual literary festival attracting notable writers from around the world. Or for the free bed in the library upstairs that so many backpackers occupied over the decades. I met one of my best friends at this bookshop. But it’s not a time to be sad. Now under the careful and dedicated management of his daughter, Sylvia Beach Whitman, George Whitman’s legacy will continue. The funeral will be held at Père Lachaise Cemetery this Thursday (December 22) at 3pm in the Crematorium, followed by a Champagne reception at the bookshop at 6pm, where “everyone is welcome to share their stories.”

>more

An Expat Writer in Paris

Paris Imperfect — Sun, 02 Oct 2011 20:18:18 +0000

Originally from Montreal, Lisa Pasold is a writer and journalist who now divides her time between Paris and Toronto.

She’s published two books of poetry (with a third forthcoming), a novel (with a second in the works), and written for numerous newspapers, magazines, and guidebooks including Time Out, Fodor’s, The Globe and Mail, and more.

In advance of her October 4 talk on travel writing at the American Library in Paris, I caught up with Lisa to get the inside scoop on writing, revising, and her many adventures abroad.

How does the city of Paris itself influence you as a writer?
Paris is a good city for writers. People care about literature here and support wonderful independent bookshops. And the media actually discusses serious books as well as the bestseller airplane ones! I love the uproar Sarkozy caused by criticizing Mme de Lafayette’s 1678 novel La Princesse de Clèves—considered one of the first psychological novels, a great very readable classic. I can’t imagine another country where people would immediately organize public readings of the novel to protest their president’s ignorance! I didn’t move to Paris to become Ernest Hemingway—I think I’d rather be Colette, she seems to have had more fun—but the legacy of expat writers has inspired me and given me a sense of possibility.

Can you talk about how you approach deep revisions? Is it in this phase that you learn in fact what it is that you have created – and how to strengthen that vision?
Revising lets me get further into the world I’m trying to create in the work. Journalism has been a great discipline, because it taught me to get on with the job, to not be precious about the work, to believe in the process of revision. I’m someone who rarely gets it right the first time, and I’m constantly fascinated by how much a piece of writing can change.

>more

DIY Studio Space

Secrets of Paris — Sun, 04 Sep 2011 16:50:19 +0000

Parisians tend to have small apartments which aren’t conducive to most DIY projects that require space to work, store tools, and make lots of noise (although most of my neighbors drill and hammer away at 9am anyway). But now there’s a place you can go in Paris to learn, create and work independently to your heart’s content. The fully-stocked workshop spaces at L’Etablisienne are free to use for members for an annual membership feeof €15 plus an hourly fee of €7, up to €450 for unlimited access for a month. The center is run by expert cabinet makers, iron smiths, woodworkers, stained glass makers, basket weavers and other artisans from the prestigious Ecole Boulle who also give short workshops or long-term classes on everything from making an inlaid wooden box to a Tiffany-style glass lamp. The setting itself, in an old industrial plumbing factory near Nation, is a steampunk dream world. Worth a visit! And for ladies who want to learn how to fix the toilet, install a light fixture, or use the drill correctly to put up shelves, there are classes just for you through Lilibricole.

Open daily, L’Etablisienne, 88 Blvd de Picpus, 75012

>more great insider tips from the Secrets of Paris September newsletter

Regretting the Long Walk Home

The Girl Who Stole the Eiffel Tower — Sun, 05 Jun 2011 09:07:10 +0000

So…new lesson learned this weekend. Do NOT miss the last metro and do NOT walk across Paris in your bare feet at 3AM. Sounds pretty obvious.

I got invited to a party over near the Eiffel Tower and knowing that there would be a pool, I really had to check this out. I went, and was one of the early (or, on-time) ones who waited outside for a half hour while they finished setting up. I learned once in there, that the place is actually a residence. Upon entering, there was a raised pool to the right and above the pool was a net, hanging from a huge hole in the second floor. It was filled with pillows, and a rope that you could swing on. There were bars upstairs and downstairs serving champagne, and also on the second floor was a jacuzzi. Nice place to live.

I met a couple nice people I ended up spending most of the evening with, and when 1AM rolled around I was debating if I should go. I hadn’t even gotten in the pool yet! I was convinced to stay by someone telling me that I could crash on their couch since they lived nearby. After learning how much my bank was stealing from me whenever I got cash out of the ATM, I’ve decided to be extra careful about how much I spent, and I didn’t want to get a taxi. Wasn’t even sure how much that would cost or if I had enough with me. So anyway, I stayed, figuring I’d have a couch to crash on. Well, after getting in the pool for a while, my litte group was ready to go. I had to get my coat, and change out of my bathing suit. But I wasn’t quick enough. They left.

I stood at the entrance wondering what my options were. I could walk… my iPhone said it would be an hour and a half. I could look for a cab… but which ones are real cabs, and how much would it cost? Would I have enough? In hindsight, I should have held up 10€ and said, “take me as far as you can.” Would have been worth it. I started walking. In heels. After a half an hour I realized that my iPhone was barely registering the change in time it would take. So I made the decision to take off my shoes. I’d just watch where I stepped. Surprisingly, I didn’t have to dodge any dog poo, but there were little streams from where people or dogs had peed on walls. Actually stepped over a stream in the progress of being created – by a dude in a corner.

>more

Encountering Randolf Westphal

Why Travel to France — Sun, 05 Jun 2011 08:52:59 +0000

We were on our way to Lyon when we almost ran over this guy and his two Siberian huskies pulling him on his bike. Instead of running into him, we rode next to him to hand him a donation. He’s Randolf Westphal and he’s been biking all over the world with his dogs for more than 14 years (around the world 4 times!) on a mission to share his experience as a cancer survivor visiting hospitals, hospices and clinics. More than two decades ago, his doctor’s told him he had about a year left to live because of his cancer but he’s still here 20 years later!
>more

Sunday Morning

Eye Prefer Paris — Sun, 24 Apr 2011 00:13:22 +0000

Sunday spring mornings in Paris are too perfect to miss. Most of the city is asleep after those wild Saturday nights. The light is soft, and the places that will soon be overrun with footsteps … are empty. Pure and quiet.

I love to photograph during these “magic hours.” The light feels as if it’s warming the earth, and the few people who are out all seem to be characters from some bohemian novel. Some are still living Saturday night, stopped in time wherever they were when their body or mind hit that invisible wall. (Some never even saw the wall. They drank their way through it.) Some are the “early birds,” catching those worms … or collecting those coins in the fountain. And some are just so darn perky (singing out loud as their jogging feet make a gravel rhythm in the gardens) that they make you thankful you’re noctilien.
>more Meredith Mullins photographs

Why I Can’t Go Home

Lost in Cheeseland — Tue, 19 Apr 2011 14:46:40 +0000

Each time I field the question, “do you think you’ll move back to the States?”, I hesitate. I think it’s because I feel guilty about my answer and verbalizing it gives it more weight; makes it more real. No, I don’t think we will. My reasons are numerous but one of the factors, aside from wanting to stay where I can speak French at all times, is transportation. The only time I ever get behind the wheel these days is during annual trips stateside but surprisingly the skill (along with parallel parking-induced anxiety) returns the instant my key enters the ignition. My hands and feet know just what to do despite months of inactivity.

While I enjoy a good drive with the windows down, the music turned up and a fresh smoothie positioned snuggly in the cup holder, I’d much rather take public transportation for its ease, efficiency and eco-friendliness (note: did you know that body heat generated in the Paris metro will to be used to warm a public housing project near Beaubourg this year?). Aside from cities like San Francisco, New York, Chicago and D.C. which boast widely used subway systems, most of America is behind when it comes to public transportation that is accessible, affordable and well maintained. After five years of getting around by foot, metro, bus, train or bike, owning or being forced to rely on a car does not fall into my life plan.

Despite its frequent strikes and time displays that occasionally malfunction, the Paris metro and bus systems are undeniably efficient and reliable for navigating the city and its surroundings. For travel within France and much of Europe, high-speed trains, like the revolutionary TGV, offer a greener, relatively hassle-free way to travel in record time. It would appear that we’ll have more than just France’s SNCF trains to choose from in the near future with a Europe-wide network in development. The EU challenged France’s railway monopoly, forcing them to open existing lines to competition, primarily from Germany and China.
>more

Ancient Decor

Why Travel to France — Sat, 16 Apr 2011 13:29:17 +0000

The meeting I had last week was one of those strange but entertaining days where what would appear to be a boring hour or two, was instead, filled with some appeal. The actual content of the meeting was not interesting at all, but if not for the office’s medieval armor and weapon collection, which took up a good half of the office, I would’ve zoned out like I’d do in my high school history class. (Not history’s fault, the teacher’s!)
The medieval collection of armor, weapons and war paraphenalia was authentic, the real deal that a medieval soldier supposedly sported as he battled it out with medieval enemies. There’s a mace resting on the shelf of the radiator but I was hoping there’d be a different kind of mace; you know, the club with a spiked ball on a chain! (I know, I’m complaining!) In any case, the display was unexpected, weird and cool, just like my France.
>more

The Long Goodbye

Just Another American in Paris — Fri, 15 Apr 2011 16:38:55 +0000

I hate it that even though we won’t be leaving Paris until the beginning of July, the “lasts” are already coming fast furious — the last time at my gym (because I’m too cheap to pay the exorbitant short term membership rate now that my normal subscription has expired), my last trip with the French ladies to their favorite chateaux, my last French lesson. Some of these are not so definitive. Was that the last shopping trip to Tang Freres? The last time I’ll stroll past Notre Dame? Either way, each one of these experiences feels like a chink in my protective Paris armor.

Of course there’s nothing to do about it but keep on keeping on. As much as I’m trying to cram in the expos, pastry shops, dinners out, and time with friends, I’m also trying my best to soak in the intangibles that are Paris, the little sights, sounds, and smells in the landscape that can’t be bottled or pasted in my memory book. Although truthfully with all the logistics of moving house and family, it’s hard to stay completely in the present. It’s hard not to wonder about where I’ll be emotionally and what I’ll be doing next year at this time — will Paris seem fuzzy and far away as if it never happened? My kids have their own questions and fears about the future which I’m doing my best to allay without having any clear idea myself of what it will be like to be back. I know we’ve all changed, them probably more than me given the share of their young lives that have passed in Paris. But just how? It’s impossible to know now.

>more