Belleville

I've been scoping out new neighborhoods in Paris - new for me, at least - beyond the well-trod historic and museum-filled center - where I'm told the "vrai parisien" lives.  Because a novel I'm currently reading is set in Belleville (a neighborhood in the northeastern part of Paris) in the post-World War II years, I decided it was time to check out the Parc de Belleville, which is situated on one side of a hill, facing towards Paris' center and, as could be expected, has wonderful views of the city.  

It's not a very big park and not much of place for a run (unless you're into hill work, which I'm definitely not); it's rather more for a slow stroll, and preferably downhill rather than up.  It's also lovely, of course, for a picnic or reading a book or taking in the rare Paris sun.

The best way to start, then, is to take the métro to the Pyrénées station.  Coming out of the métro, head in the downhill direction and turn left on rue Piat.  It's just a bit further down that street, also downhill.  

The walk itself through the park is lovely and leisurely because the path winds and turns down the hill with views so spectacular that you can't help stopping to gaze into the distance to try to pinpoint landmarks.

As for the neighborhood itself, it is much like it was in those post-war years - a melting pot of newcomers to France.  At the same time, though, it has become very popular with younger Parisians who are seeking affordable apartments and so are turning it into one of the more trendy parts of town, as has been occurring through much of the northeastern quadrant of Paris in recent years.

Irene, and post-Irene

Others will say more, and better, about Hurricane Irene and its impact.  I can only speak to my little world of the Upper West Side of Manhattan, especially since the subways have been shut down since yesterday and are likely to stay that way for at least another 24 hours.  Perhaps if the winds that are still whipping die down by tomorrow, I will do my moving about as a bike commuter to travel to other parts of town.

But, first yesterday.  Much was closed, including Joe, my regular coffee source on Columbus.  It seemed a good time to try MUD, which opened up right across the street from Joe, and perhaps would have been a Caffeinated Weekends post, which I am behind on.  It was not to be.  I got in this line, and then a sweet smiling young lady informed me that they were going to close and that the man in front of me was going to be the final customer.  Who can argue with hurricane-panic logic?

So I took a walk over to Riverside Park to see how the Hudson River was doing.  I did a double-take to see a cruise ship pulling out of its midtown pier to start an Atlantic Ocean cruise.  Wait, what?!?  My stomach was churning at the thought of being on that ship, tossing my way into the hurricane.  Wonder how that worked out.

After that, one more trip to the supermarket somehow seemed in order, heeding all media advice and marching in the steps of the other Manhattan lemmings.  I found that the beer aisle had been hit hard.

 So, too, the meat case.

However, herring was plentiful.  (I'm surprised Bloomberg didn't remind us all to stock up on pickled fish, too.)

On the way home, I noticed a number of picture-takers in front of Town Shop.  Again, I wondered?  I'd already gotten my photo op yesterday, I thought.  But, no!  A new sign had been added, echoing the sentiment most Manhattan residents wish their neighborhood cafés, restaurants and bars had also felt. 

Because, man, were we bored yesterday, just wandering up and down Broadway with that glazed look in our eyes.  What would be next?  Were we really ready?  Or was this just busy work for the main event over which we knew we had absolutely no control?

Today, after Irene passed through us, there was more walking, and again, today I was back at Riverside Park, to see what nature can do, as a result of my first hurricane in New York City.  Here is a bit of what I saw:

A watery visitor far from home

A youthful, yet succinct, viewpoint shared by most

Hudson River with actual waves

Dramatic tree damage

Those in other parts of New York City and within the rest of the path of Irene did not fare as well as we did here on the Upper West Side.  And, even so, it was a scary night, filled with pounding rain, loud winds and frightening televised warnings.  I'm grateful for the relative calm of a more typical Sunday evening.

Quelle experience!