Knock knock

A great weekend in Paris is behind us (a week ago now) and Bob, Rachel, Evelyn, and Sam (who we rendezvoused with in the City of Light) returned with us to Angers for the remainder of what's proven to be a solid week of early Spring sunshine. [Some Paris photos] [Also,  chateaux II photos I forgot to link to last time]

The gang at Notre Dame where we joined up with Elizabeth.
Evelyn and Sam were off exploring the oldest organ in Paris.

En route to Paris, despite our best efforts to replace the memories of our first harried adventure on the TGV with a pleasantly uneventful saunter to our seats, we only managed to solidify the notion that the TGV platform is where you go to be separated from your children by merciless hydraulic doors (we're all accounted for). Different twists produced similar experiences on both legs of our Anger-Paris-Angers rail travels. But I'm sure we are professional TGV passengers now. Next time will be perfect.

Hillary. Is that vous?

Our Saturday afternoon walks around the Ile de Cité, Louvre, and Jardin des Tuileries, were punctuated by long convoys of dark blue Gendarme vans, two-tone sirens blaring, pretending to drive quickly through Parisian gridlock--presumably shuttling dignitaries who were in town for Sarcozy's Libya kickoff meeting.
On the same street but a different planet, our group was headed to a meeting with pitchers of ludicrously rich hot chocolate (chocolat chaud) at Angelina (a very popular restaurant which specializes in sugar, chocolate, cream/butter, and enough flour to hold things together). Sam (who along with Evelyn was making an encore appearance at Angelina) accurately characterized the activity as "drinking a brownie."

If it was cold, it'd be on a plate.

 After the first sip, it was hard to know if it was really good or detrimentally excessive. Halfway through my first portion (there are four cups in the pitcher that is traditionally shared by two), I had to stop the waiter and ask for "un café." Not understanding how I could want two "beverages" at the same time, she was apparently going to ignore me.  But Kristin intervened and, in actual French (the kind that includes verbs), assured her that while I was a bit afflicted, I was still willing to pay for some coffee. The coffee wasn't good (go figure) so I deferred to our server's sensibilities and made my two beverages one. Voila: the "best chocolat chaud in Paris" just got better. Be warned though. This cocktail will cause temporary Tourette's (at least tics & giggles), compulsive stacking of small objects, and a thirteen hour nap.

In Paris: so many knockers, so little chime.

We stepped into a few churches in Paris but I must confess, we skipped museums entirely. The weather was great and our hotel's location on Ile Saint-Louis ensured that a short walk in any direction was interesting and beautiful. So, we mostly stayed outside. One thing that really caught my eye was all the great knockers. In today's Paris, they mostly just hang there, untouched. But they're still an obvious source of pride and flair.

Needed a segue here...

(You can't put on orange wigs and boas
and act all, like, annoyed when some
random guy takes your picture)

In soccer news, Paris is coming to Angers! I know this is big news but, in case you missed it, Angers SCO qualified for the first round of the the Coupe de France and will host Paris Saint Germaine right here at our modest Stade Jean Bouin. We are trying to get a couple of tickets to the April 20 match but schedules and rules for distribution are being made up and changed daily since, according to the SCO office (via Google Translate), "this is an event without precedent." If we don't end up being able to see the game, we will be even sadder that we missed our chance to view the cup itself.

Le bus de la Coupe de France.
L'occasion pour chaque supporter
d'approcher le trophée
de la compétition.

The actual Coupe de France is being driven about the country in a Pope-mobile which stops for several hours at a time in participating supermarket parking lots. It was in Angers on March 8 after 5pm at the Carrefour Saint Serge and we just let it happen.

You might think that the apparent connection between soccer and food-staples is nothing. But the evidence keeps mounting. Nothing is unconnected from soccer. (For those keeping score with predicate logic, don't think too hard about that last sentence). This coming Saturday is Jack's soccer team fundraiser -- a sausage sale (Saucissons: natures, sangliers, noisettes, chèvre, and chorizo pur porc -- all priced at 3,50€ /200g). An old-world umbilical transfer of resources from the village to the next generation of heros. No cupcakes here. Soccer is what's for dinner.

Train station bike station.

I still haven't set myself up with a Ville d'Angers free loaner bike bike but, until I do, Angers, much like Paris, has just launched a very cheap pay-bike program with the first setup over at the train station (the future is here and it's intermodal). At 1€ a day, the value of the pay-station bike system has leap frogged France's other pay-station amenity, the .40€ Sanisette, self-cleaning street toilet (actually, I think they're mostly free these days). But .40€ is still the going rate for most public bathrooms. The once commonplace free public urinals have almost disappeared (for obvious reasons I'd think). But one walk-up man-stall, or vespasienne, still survives in Angers. Since both it and I are short timers here, I figured I should visit.

Oh I can go here for free? Excuse me scooter boy. Hi mom.
Hey, yoga-mat girl. Namaste.

We walk by it often so by "visit," I mean step up to the plate. Luckily, Ella was willing to capture the moment on "film." I know what you're thinking--this is so much like NPR's Story Corps. And, indeed, like a journalist on a slow news day, this is where we are (okay, where I am). I mean, our days are full but what's left to be said about artisan bread? Actually, a mystery we keep meaning to ask about is what determines when a French boulangerie wraps a bread in a single sheet of paper with both ends sticking out as opposed to putting it in a bread bag.