Les rues des Paris - I

It is the day after 17/05 and, as promised, here is my Paris post!

Being native to an island, the term "holiday" by default implies catching a plane and flying off to another land. Now that I am based in London, the scenario has not changed much, since, although the UK is by far much larger than Malta, it is an island nonetheless. This definition of "holiday" does not apply to my most recent trip: my first visit to France. A visit to its capital Paris, to be precise. Getting the usual northbound Piccadilly line from Earl's Court up to King's Cross and simply changing from the Tube to a Eurostar train made the journey to Paris far less painful than usual trips: no need for uncomfortable coach journeys to Stansted or Luton, the endless waiting at the departure lounge and another coach or train trip from the terminal to the city centre. The engineering marvel that is the Euro Tunnel exceeded comfort expectations. And so the journey began last Friday morning with the 7.22am train, which in almost commuter style, brought us to the Parisian Gare de Nord before mid-day.

I was amazed at the station to see that the arrival/departure boards were not digital (London-style) ones but the old-school flap models, which reminded me of my first trip ever (back in 1989) and of the opening scenes from "The terminal". Classic flick, but right then I hoped not to get stuck in the station, Hanks style. We got a carnet of 10 tickets and got the Metropolitain to the hotel. My first impression of the Parisian equivalent of 'our' Tube was that, despite being quite "younger", it looked shabbier and dirtier. Not exactly an environment which pleases someone with a slight trace of OCD like myself. Thank God for the handy alcohol gel I carried! We dropped our luggage at the unassuming yet cosy hotel in a convenient location between Montmartre and Beleville and off we went to explore Paris!

The first stop was the Canal St. Martin. En-route (excuse me for the heavy usage of French jargon, but after 5 days of not hearing/speaking English, I cannot help it!) I was amazed to see so many boulangeries and boucheries, which soon started to trigger hunger. It was also striking to see fresh water flowing out of culverts along many of the streets, presumably to clean away dirt. The French are clean, after all, I thought, but I suppose this was a case of judging a book by its cover. More later. We walked right up to the Parc des Buttes Chamont. Not the cliché tourist spot, but it was great to walk around in a green space and, thinking about it, it was the only bit of proper green which I saw, except for Versailles. We walked right up to another Parc, Belleville, which was worth visiting simply because it provided the first real Parisian view: an overall skyline boasting the twin Notre Dame towers, the Pantheon and Les Invalides domes, the unmissable coloured Pompidou and the equally unmissable Eiffel Tower. So much to see in the next 5 days!

It was a pleasant downhill walk down Rue de Belleville, for many reasons. It was getting hot and I had had enough of hills, for now. More importantly, it was like stepping outside of Europe for a while and savouring so many different cultures, all in one road. By the end of it, it was time to get a 70cm baguette from one of so many boulangeries there and French saucisson and brie to go with it. My idea of a perfect lunch.

The next stop was to pay tribute to the foremost Parisian landmark: the Eiffel Tower. Having had an interest in structures before I could probably write properly, this was one of the first engineering marvels I got to know about and I was finally about to see it, for real! Ascending from the bowels of the station, we found ourselves into a massive symmetric esplande embracing the start of a kilometre long axis from the Trocadero across the Seine to the tower itself and beyond through the Champ de Mars up to the Ecole Militaire and the end of it with another symmetrical pair near the UNESCO building. The French planners loved their axes and symmetry! I was tormented to see how many 'mute' and 'deaf' French gather in this (and other touristic areas), asking for donations. Luckily, I soon classified them as scams.

The descent down to the tower proper made me wonder what Eiffel would be thinking if he returned to see that his temporary 1889 structure is still standing and drawing so many 100s or 1000s daily. The sheer scale and yet grace of the structure is perhaps the epitome of a marriage between aesthetics and practicality, design and engineering. If only I could achieve a fraction of this in the years to come...

It was quite disappointing, though, to see that the massive fountain along the axis was not working and not even filled with water. And it was rather more disappointing to find that the Parc du Champ de Mars, which on my map featured as a massive stretch of green at the foot of the Eiffel Tower was largely patches of turf and green but with loose fill and dusty paths. An even larger expanse of dusty ground awaited at the end of the trail in front of the Ecole Militaire. This, however, took none of the glory of the Baroque masterpiece that the facade of the Military School is. French pomposity at its best. Until our trip to Versailles, that is...

A brief homage to the UNESCO building was followed by another short stop at the Musee de Quai Branly, that massive red masterpiece by Jean Nouvel, whom I had encountered a few months back in Hyde Park, when he launched his (red!) Serpentine Pavilion 2010. A short walk along the river then led to another massive Parisian landmark: Les Invalides. The distinct axiality was again evident here, with one long sightline starting with an avenue on the south, running through the complex and finishing off across the river with the Grand and Petite Palais-es. The shining golden dome of the Eglise, resting place of the little great French self-crowned Emperor who changed the world in the late 18th century, was, as expected, simply splendid.

Being so close to the Louvre, it was too tempting not to pay homage to the great glass pyramid of I.M. Pei. The route I chose was along the Seine, past the Musee D'Orsay and across the Pont Royal to the Jardin des Tuileries. The latter proved to be yet another surprise: the main approach to the grand Louvre was nothing but a wide expanse of dusty ground. How could the French not realise that it is not that expensive to pave the area?! Being intrinsically an optimist, I decided to focus more on the surrounding buildings and the happy marriage of Baroque and contemporary symmetry took away all my blues.

By this time, we had walked well over 5 hours non-stop and, in as much as I prefer to see a city on foot, we had been up since 5am and quite hungry at this point. So we took a metro up to Belleville and put down our anchors in one of the Thai places there - great food! It was then unanimously decided to head back to the hotel and get recharged for another long day tomorrow...

An eventful week!

It was quite a colourful week indeed!

Probably the biggest event was the killing of the world's most wanted man, the leader of the group Al Qaeda. Osama Bin Laden, regarded by many as the mastermind behind 9/11, was shot dead after a raid in an unassuming house in Pakistan. It is beyond the space of this post to discuss whether it was justified or right or whatever, but it brought to an end a decade-long quest by the Americans and, quite conveniently, at the start of President Obama's preparations for the 2012 elections. Am I the only one thinking of Macchiavelli?

Back home, besides all the nauseating tit-tatting in the pro/anti divorce camps, the main occurrence was the pulling down of that horrendous hole which from 1964 till 02/05/2011 served as the main entrance to our capital city. A historic moment indeed. It was a shame that I was not at home to take a snap or two to preserve the image of that monstrosity for posterity, but in this day and age, one can find 100s of images online. I am putting one here too, for the sake of completeness. I am now anxious to see the final product: the realisation of the dream of a visionary architect who will not replace the gate but will leave an open (albeit narrow) doorway inviting people to enter magical Valletta rather than keep them out.

Another demise, this time not pleasant, took place this week too. Maltese author Frans Sammut passed away, sadly. I never met the man personally (I only managed to talk to him accidentally once on the phone when I called the Sammut residence intending to contact his son) but I am sure that his legacy will live long. Rest in peace, Frans.

Oh yes, on the 1st of May I recalled when I hit a truck a stone's throw away from home and nearly died on the spot. Not a nice memory, at all.

Here in London, the weather persisted with plenty of sun and mid to high 20s, although it did rain one night. What a funny micro climate! Other than that, I was quite busy modelling 400x400x3.8mm (mild and armour) steel plates subjected to close-in blasts...bla, bla, bla...but that is my work these days. With an upcoming progress meeting next week, I have to make sure that I have new stuff to present to the funding body, rather than show them the same material again; otherwise they would have seen it so many times that they would be able to present it themselves to me.

This weekend I started my most enjoyable task of researching, studying and planning the upcoming Paris trip. Yes, Paris! By now, I almost know the map by heart and have a good grasp of the main attractions and the not-so-well-known ones which however are a must for 2 architects to visit. More on that after the 17/05!

And finally, now that AC Milan how won, they can claim this year's scudetto, which means that my dear Inter have to settle for 2nd place after winning 5 consecutive titles. Forza Inter, nonetheless!

1 kiloNewton

I have never been much of a skinny person. The only time I remember I was "thin" was when I was 4 or 5 years old, when I suffered from tonsillitis and, at times, my throat was so badly swollen that I could not eat much. Happily my tonsils were removed and from that fateful day onwards, I have gladly devoured all that was in my way...

There were a few times when I had quite a decent weight for my height, probably due to healthy eating and regular exercise. Once in the UK, I left behind my good 75kg weight to some 85kg or 90kg over 2 years, thanks to the wonderful British cuisine. Many a time I tried to say, "That's it!" and started jogging again. Post-M.Sc. times were encouraging, for I did not need to stay at home all evening, sitting down at my desk and revising and working but I could go jogging daily. So far, so good.

All changed after the wedding. I tried to illude myself that my sudden gain in weight was the often-mentioned post-marriage male surge in weight and persisted with my bad eating habits. I had made an attempt to start exercising until winter kicked in and all came to a halt. During my Christmas trip home, I found out that I weight 90kg, which was alarming. Since I do not have a scales here in London, I had to wait till Easter to weigh myself again. Thus, last week I found out that I am now 100kg. Oh my God! 1000N. 1kN. 0.1t.

Back in London, I am now strictly avoiding all English breakfasts, all puddings, all soft drinks and beer, all massive portions and all greasy SCR lunches. I am now (as of a few days ago) eating regularly small and healthy portions and jogging everyday. I started off with 2km and I hope to increase the distance and/or speed gradually.

My great hope is that my next health-related post will be my announcement of being at least back to a 2 digit weight. And being able to fit into most of my currently unusable clothing. So help me, God.

A royal wedding

Earlier today, I was one of the 2 billion or so worldwide who followed the royal wedding between William and Kate (now known as Catherine), now both known as the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge. The last royal wedding was that between his parents, Charles and Diana, and, although everyone on the planet knows of that ill-fated wedding, I was not "involved" since I was not born yet. This time round, not only was I born but I was actually in London at the time of the wedding.

The engagement came around last November as far as I remember and since then all of London burst into the sale of 1001 items related to the royal couple: cards, mugs, plates, T shirts, masks, flags and, erm, condoms. It is unbelievable how much people try to make money out of, literally, everything. Probably people made £1000s by betting on how the weather will be; after 2 or 3 weeks of sun, there were predictions of light showers on the day (these failed to appear, much to the relief of the organisers!)

The day of the wedding was declared a bank holiday, quite convenient after the Monday bank holiday after Easter and the bank holiday next Monday. Initially, I was very tempted to go to the heart of the event around Westminster Abbey and/or Buckingham Palace, but I soon changed my mind. Thankfully. Around 1,000,000 people crowded the streets where the procession took place on the day and another 300,000 flooded Hyde Park to watch the event on big screens. I hate crowds! Two London New Year's Eves were sufficient and this time I preferred to watch the do on TV, like the other 2,000,000,000 worldwide. The only bit I could hear live were the planes passing over Buckingham Palace when the couple came out in the balcony; it would have been impossible not to hear that magnificent roaring sound!

What was impressive during the whole thing was the sheer precision of the whole affair. With impeccable British timing, all maneuvers were spot on, with carriages and cars and all departing and arriving exactly as planned, following a schedule depicting ridiculous times such as 10:51 for the departure of the car of so-and-so and the arrival of the same at 10:57. The whole escort and later the horse-drawn drive was an example of British pageantry at its best. These people really love all the pomp and ceremony! I doubt that there will ever be a time when the monarchy will cease to exist.

It was also remarkable how traditional and contemporary schools of thought merged: the new Duchess herself is not of royal blood, her dress not of the 8m length Diana had wore but a mere 2m, the less important guests escorted in mini vans and the Abbey was decorated with trees, transforming it into a forest-like venue and Kate did not vow to obey the future monarch and so on. Simplicity and sophistication, the royal and the ordinary, the magical and the practical.

Although I have no ardent personal affection for the royalists and the British royal family, I sincerely trust that the new couple may find happiness in their new life and the pressures which the Prince's mother succumbed to may be a thing of the past.

I may not have been there but, nonetheless, in some 30 odd years, when another royal wedding takes place, I would be glad to say that I was in London on the previous royal wedding, on the day when King William and Queen Catherine got married, on 29th April 2011.

Holy week et al.

The sunshine in London persisted and at some point the temperature here exceeded that at Malta; we had 25 and even 27 degrees in the first few days of the Holy Week 2011. I was more excited about a set of forthcoming activities rather than having to bear with the high temperatures in the office and sometimes the incomprehensible occasional resort to switching on heaters by some of my fellow co-workers. Let's not get started on that...

Last Friday was the last day when most of us in #223 were still in London and thus we all decided to head off for a decent lunch off Oxford Street in one of the best revelations of early 2011: a steak house. The food there was great: medium steak with fresh frittes, preceded by a fresh salad and the main served in 2 equal helpings to keep the meat warm. It was a very lazy afternoon (Friday fever at its best) and followed by an equally lazy weekend before my Easter break. The Sunday was particularly sunny and beautiful and I ventured to take a few snaps of the latest Rogers building in Knightsbridge. What a privilege to be living in the playground of the great architects of the 21st century!

The Monday was characterised by a 2 hour long lunch break in Hyde Park, enjoying the sunshine and with occasional freshening "dips" in the Diana fountain. If only London is as sunny all year long! Tuesday was then my last proper working day for April and on Wednesday I only turned up at the office briefly to clear a minor pending job, clean up my desk and switch off the PC to avoid any temptation of working remotely from home. Come Wednesday night and I met up with one of my Maltese mates who came down to London for the evening to join me for a concert in the Royal Albert Hall: a Pink Floyd tribute concert.

Anyone who knows me will be aware of my PF obsession. I will not diverge from the proper content of this post, but I still think PF are one of the greatest bands ever. Although I had been to a concert of Roger Waters, the Brit Floyd concert sounded too good to miss, especially since the band is voted as the best tribute band so far. The venue was great as always and from the opening Shine on you crazy diamond right down to the closing Run like hell, the concert was simply amazing. The music and the projections were impeccable and the 3 hour long gig was worth every penny. Back home, my mate and I had a quick nap from 1am to 2am, when I had to get up and commence my long journey home (he eventually left at 4am to get the 6am train back to Nottingham).

I operated on auto-pilot as I got the 74 bus to Marble Arch and then 757 coach to Luton (I slept throughout all of the latter journey and thankfully the airport was the last stop; if it was not, I would have kept going on and on!) The flight was on time and after a quick breakfast and coffee in the terminal, I found myself a good seat on the good old Ryanair plane and slept from 6.30am after departure right till we were flying over Sicily. And 30 minutes later, we landed in Malta, my first trip since December.

I was surprised to find that the island greeted me with a grey cloudy sky, but I reckoned this was the usual "Good Friday" weather (alas, the bad weather persisted with consistence throughout all of my stay while London was venturing in the high 20s!) Once home, I started my marathon of good home meals. Easter has always been my favourite time of the year, on many levels: culturally, spiritually and gastronomically.

Thursday night was characterised by the usual Maundy Thursday ceremony in church and Friday morning we went up to Mdina and Rabat to visit the churches there (a first for me) and do the traditional Maltese visti. Lunch was invariably devoid of meat, but was replaced by one of my favourite foods: rikotta pie, cooked to perfection by mum. Friday afternoon and evening was then a visit to Valletta and its procession, another first. I also took a picture with the well-loved personality Il-pampalun and met also an ex-teacher and ex-classmate from secondary school! I did not fail to get a decent supply of karamelli tal-harrub, which I look forward to every year!

As much as I love London and its eccentricity and vibrant life, I still think our own capital is a gem and I am so thrilled simply to walk throughout the straight longitudinal streets, up and down the stepped side streets and admiring all of their Baroque splendour. I found that much of the capital is really being revived, with the new Palace Square, the restored National Library, the works on the Palace and Castille and numerous pavings works everywhere. Besides the City Gate/Opera House project. I cannot wait to see the city in 5-10 years' time...

Saturday was generally relaxed and in the evening headed off to an Irish pub in St Julian's for a surprise birthday do and a gathering with my friends. Good fun. Easter Sunday was then another day of eating and food, this time at the in-laws' and then at home in the evening. The unusual event on the Sunday was the 7 tremors felt over Malta, with the largest at M4.1 felt at 3pm. Personally, I felt nothing...

On Monday, I headed to Valletta again with dad, with hopes of seeing some sun and taking some good pictures, but had to endure nothing but humid, foggy and cloudy conditions. Albeit the uncooperative weather, I enjoyed the trip very much and my thoughts were a re-iteration of those on Friday. Finally, on Monday evening, we headed off to Mgarr and had a massive celebration of Maltese food: snails to start off and then a mix of rabbit, horse and quail. And Kinnie. And wine. Good fun, again!

On Tuesday morning, we made our way to the airport and, in grey and foggy weather, took off to land back in London, welcomed by the sun. It was indeed a very short break and did not enjoy a single hour of Mediterranean sun in 5 days but I swear I will go back in summer for 2 weeks and not return back to London until I am fully tanned!

Summer!

I think that the world has really gone crazy! It has been 18-21 degrees all week in London and blue cloudless skies from sunrise to sunset. Which makes it much tempting to leave the damn office and head off to Hyde Park and chill (well, sunbath really). This morning I woke up (late, as I do on most Saturdays) and after a good session on the piano and a quick lunch, headed off to the City and River Walk with a colleague till the late afternoon. I think I got back with a tan!

The biggest shame was that as soon as I took out my camera to capture a few London shots sporting (rare) sunlight scenes and blue sky backgrounds, I found out that the batteries are dead. And soon after my phone battery was on the verge of death, too. Not amusing at all, especially considering that the Shard has grown by a good handful (or two?) of new floors since I last saw it 2 weeks ago and it is always good to have photographic records of the construction of such landmarks.

And once by the Globe, I got tickets to watch Hamlet in the very theatre of Shakespeare, but not until July. It is embarrassing that after 3 years in London I have not been to the Globe yet, but this is will soon be another thing off the list!

Although I am generally very optimistic, I am more than sure that this blissful summery weather will not last that long and thus I want to exploit it to the full and intend to head out tomorrow...again!

An excursion to Bath and Cardiff

I am not sure if I had mentioned it earlier, but I am back on my own, sadly enough. No, no, I am not a prototype of the highly-debated new divorce legislation back in Malta, but the wife headed back to the sunny rock since the term is over and there is not much point staying alone for most of the day while studying for the upcoming exams. Thus, I needed to devise new ways to keep myself entertained. Last weekend's trip to Bath and Cardiff was the first such event...

On the Friday evening, I took the train to Bath and landed there at around 10pm, where I met my good Maltese friend waiting for me. How lovely the city is! This was my fourth visit to the ancient Roman settlement but I am nonetheless enchanted each time I pass by the Avon, the Pulteney Bridge and the Abbey. This was my first time to see the city lit at night and the view was fantastic.

Once at his abode, I got rid of my belongings and headed off to the union on campus with a bottle of his favourite wine and over 1,000 words or more emptied it in no time. The temperature was comfortable, the setting peaceful (all the undergrads were gone) and it was good to catch up with a friend outside Skype/MSN/Facebook/email. At around 12 we decided to head back and get some sleep for a long day awaited us. We did not sleep until well after 1 due to more and more talking, ranging from work, buildings, music, Malta, people, divorce, food and (did I mention it?) buildings.

The damn alarm rang at 7am and miraculously we got up and one coffee and only a few essential words later we headed down to the station and got the 8.30am train to Cardiff. It was my first time to Wales and I was looking forward for the day trip. By the way, the idea was this: my team Inter was playing against his team Milan on the Sunday and being the hottest game of the season, we decided to go to Cardiff on Saturday and then watch the game on Sunday. Luckily (or otherwise!) Inter qualified for the Champions League quarter finals and the Inter-Milan game was re-scheduled for Saturday, which meant we were going to miss it! This did not take away any of the excitement for our visit to Cardiff and we still managed to get a sneak of the game at a Welsh pub there and we were kept up to date with SMS texts from our friends. I am postponing this last detail not to re-open any wounds, but sadly "we" lost 3-0. Embarrassing. Anyway.

Once at Cardiff, we started roaming around the city centre. The weather was rubbish at first, but in the next half an hour it cleared up and was sunny and very pleasant throughout the rest of the day. We strolled about and headed to the Cardiff Castle, which kept us entertained till lunchtime. It was a fine example of motte and bailey medieval architecture and it was very well preserved and documented. By 1.00pm we were starving and headed off to the first pub and had a decent pub lunch which kept us going till the evening. After lunch we slowly headed down to the Cardiff Bay area and its former docks which were modernised and now boast some fine examples of contemporary architecture, much to our liking. A pit stop at the Starbucks there fuelled us with much needed caffeine and we strolled for a few hours in the area, taking some 300 pictures and, needless to say, the omnipresent Maltese talk on 101 topics. Dinner was at a Chinese buffet place which we spotted and immediately grabbed our attention. It was not bad but had better, though it did fill me up till lunchtime the next day...

We got the 8.30pm train to Bath and landed back home at 10pm. We watched the dreadful game highlights and a shower and change of clothes later went back to the Bath centre and to a local club. This venue and its antics kept us entertained till 2am or so, by which time it was time to retire.

No alarms were set and we got up at 11am or so and off to the city centre, beautiful Georgian Bath. By now, hunger was becoming an urgent matter and given the considerable munchies, we unanimously decided to go to another Chinese buffet place. This was way better than the Welsh equivalent and we stayed there for 2 hours or more, eating, pausing, talking, drinking and many cycles thereof. I did not eat till lunchtime the next day and to make up for the enormous intake of food, I seriously considered to fast in a Ramadan fashion (this did not work out).

Back home, I packed my few belongings and headed back down to the centre and after a few more roaming around, I was on the 9pm train to Paddington. I got home considerably tired and after a decent power shower and one final glass of wine to round up the weekend, I slept till 9.30am.

What a good start for April! And this was no April fool.