Paris, France, Friday October 24th

Keith and Christine would love to hear from you with questions, comments, personal news and any news at all from Australia or wherever you are. We will reply to all emails! Please write to either windlechristine@gmail.com or windle.keith@gmail.com

I woke up feeling worried about the form that I needed to fill in for my preferences for teaching for next year. I had only had the form a day or two, due to not much internet access and not being able to open the attachment. We had just received the news that Kathryn had been given her first preference for her fourth year nursing placement at Barwon Health in Geelong, and we are very excited because she, Aidan and our little grandsons would be living with us in Inverleigh next year. So what should I do? What did I want to do and what did I need to do for the new family grouping to work well? I wanted to work and find my job creative and stimulating, but I would need people time too. I asked for a reduction to four days a week, working in any capacity that would allow that to happen. I rang through my response, but the message machine was on and I imagined that all my colleagues were enjoying happy hour and setting off for their weekends. For the first time in ages I saw myself back at school, and I had the same feelings of anticipation that beset us all when a new year is being planned.

Back in current reality, we caught the hotel shuttle back to the gigantic Charles de Gaulle Airport. Unfortunately we got off at a different terminal to the one the tourist information office was in and so began a series of walks and inquiries that left us feeling that we were in an airport version of Bunuel’s famous film, ‘The Exterminating Angel’. We were still hopeful of a couch surfing offer, but that was not to be and the Hostel World site was painfully slow on the airport internet computer that swallows money at the rate of 9 euros ($18) an hour.

I had a plan for what to do on the two days in Paris, and it involved areas near Vincennes. We phoned Joel to see if he could track down some cheap accommodation in Paris but many places had no rooms available. Time and money were disappearing fast so we went back to the tourist office and asked the lady there if she could help. In a matter of seconds she had used the internet to find us a hotel, had made us a reservation and circled the metro stations we needed to use. We were so happy to be out of there and on a train speeding towards the metro station of Porte de Vincennes. The Parisians around us were rugged up in coats and scarves and when I stepped onto the street in my summer skirt and t-shirt, it made sense. It was cold and we had to rummage around for jumpers, with mine not having been worn since before leaving Paris in September.

It was lunchtime when we arrived at our hotel. It was in an elegant old building and had the sweetest man on reception – a greater contrast to our previous night could not have been found. Keith went to a nearby supermarket and bought real food – bread, cheese and salad – and I rested on a bed with an ample sheet. It was a strange economy in Tanzanian hotels to have sheets that only covered the top of the mattress and which couldn’t be tucked in. I woke up when Keith returned.

Our afternoon plan was to sort out our tickets to Toulouse at the Gare d’Austerlitz, and to walk along the Seine. We were concerned at our lack of preparation for our two week walk which we would start in only a few days time. It had been so hot in Zanzibar and Dar es Salaam that we had walked less than five kilometres most days. We would walk fast and far to try to build up some fitness.

This plan had not taken into account the beautiful nature of Paris, and the need to stop and investigate and admire statues and views, and the feeling of elation at being there that can’t be expressed while marching. We hadn’t gone far when two great pillars, with Saint Louis on one and King Philipe on the other, stood each side of the road. They were sentinels for an ancient gate into Paris, which in former times had been a place where customs officers collected taxes for goods going in and out. Customs houses stood beside the columns on each side of the road.

Almost immediately we reached the enormous Place de Nation, where Jules Dalou’s magnificent 22 metre high bronze sculpture is set in a small park in the centre of the huge roundabout, with large shade trees circling it. The sculpture is called ‘La Triumphe de la Republique’ and was finished in 1899. It is in the classical style, with the figure at the front representing liberty, holding a torch and mounted on two lions. A blacksmith on one side and the bee hive link to the workforce, while the hand of justice is being held by a woman accompanied by a child with the scales of justice on the other side. At the back another woman and children hold a ‘horn of plenty,’ overflowing with food. Over all stands the figure of Marianne, who represents France. We learnt all this from a delightful French lady who had been given a book on the monuments of Paris and who was very happy to share its information with us. There is so much detail in this sculpture, from the fur and paws of the lions to the capsicum balanced on the edge of the horn. It could be my most favourite sculpture ever.

After this long pause, we did stride it out, only glancing at the magnificent Gare de Lyon station, which to untrained Australian eyes looked as good as a palace.Gare d’Austerlitz was similarly in the grand style, but inside was a monument to French efficiency and neatness, with ribbons to guide people in making endless queues.

At last we were out and away, but only for about 100 metres until we reached the next stop, the Jardin de Plantes. Like all things Parisian, it is on an enormous scale, with avenues of trees, walks between garden areas, buildings housing various natural history museums and the zoological gardens. The plants are named, with some in collections of families and others of environment. It was starting to drizzle but that did not deter us from a delightful hour, which could have been more in better weather.

The treed avenue had markers and information boards forming a time line and outlining ten major events in the biological history of the planet. Although in French, they were easy to read, and very interesting. The ten events were: the formation of the earth, the first oceans, the first traces of life, the production of oxygen, the development of sexual reproduction, the development of multi-cellular organisms, the ‘invention’ of the skeleton, vegetation, opportunities for mammals and the evolution of man. The last tree, with man on it, talked about how man has multiplied and is speeding up changes on the planet.

We had a quick look at the geological map of France, with a display of rocks to go with it, before we visited more gardens. Keith was cold and could not stand still, but instead did laps of the garden while I read and admired. Eventually we moved on to keep him warm.

We were walking into the heart of Paris, and towards Notre Dame Cathedral, where we had reached on our last Seine walk, seven weeks ago. Although we must have looked like tourists, or Keith did with his camera and backpack, I was approached twice by people representing ‘Medicins du Monde’, an organization that works against suffering throughout the world. I asked questions and at the end, I was thanked for listening and for my interest, even though it eventuated that, as Australians, we couldn’t support the current campaign financially.

The river path took us through the Paris Open Air sculpture displays, in parkland along the Seine, but on the whole we had been spoilt for small modern pieces, that we did not understand the thinking behind, by ‘La Triomphe de la Republique’.

The rest of the walk was one of amazement at the busy traffic and the neatness of the streets and parks. Our return trip on the other side of the Seine took us up Rue de Fauburg, a commercial street where the huge shop windows were lit up and full of every kind of furniture, clothing, jewellery and designer household item. The food shops had the most perfect examples of fruits, vegetables, breads and treat foods. The contrast was stark to the shops and possibilities for the people we knew in Tanzania, and even to many that we had seen in Dar es Salaam. The prices were enormous, and yet people must be paying them.

It was quite late when we returned, but we were warm from walking and feeling very secure and comfortable in the streets of Paris. It is amazing what a difference knowing a language makes. I felt a sleep wave coming on and went to bed, but Keith went out to the internet café, in his campaign to eventually catch up in our African section of the blog. Most of it is still unwritten, but I have decided to write in real time at the same time as attempting the catch up.