Champs-Élysée, Nature Capitale

First, a reminder of how the Champs-Élysée normally looks, with traffic whizzing around on its six lanes which stretch from La Defense to the Louvre, passing the Arc de Triomphe at the midway point.

The Champs-Élysée is important to all biking enthusiasts because it invariably hosts the conclusion to the world's most famous bike race, the three-week Tour de France, which I follow faithfully from Canada.  I forget how many laps the riders take up and down this street, but they go flying at speeds which are absolutely frightening, particularly on those cobble stones.  Some exceptionally brave riders leading the pack may briefly ride in the gutter on the side of the street because those granite stones are more smooth, but if a right pedal should touch the curb, it's curtains.  My shoes (below) give a bit of perspective to the size of the gutter, likely no more than a foot wide--hardly the space one desires when biking at 50 km/h or more.  I forget what the red shells were, but they gave the sense of walking on soil rather than on a wide street paved with granite cobblestones.

We started at the eastern part so that we could walk with the sun to our backs rather than in our eyes.  We were greeted with an enormous pyramid of boxes of all sorts of fruits and vegetables.  In part, the display was advertising wooden crates.  By 10:30, the lettuce at the very top was already starting to get a bit limp in the hot sun, but the colours were wonderful against the blue sky. 

At this point in the exhibition, cars were still allowed on the road, but there seemed to be a hundred or more tents along the sidewalk with displays of all sorts, mostly food producers showing their wares, cheese, milks, meats or talking with people.  

I enjoyed a display of barley ready to be harvested.  This was actually a carefully constructed series of boxes with styrofoam in the bottoms, into which people had carefully inserted each and every dry stalk of barley.  It was a labour of love and gives one the impression of a field in late summer.

We eventually came to the final grand stretch which was devoted only to pedestrians.  Apparently the Champs Élysée was closed to traffic the previous night at 10 p.m., when untold numbers of trucks descended, with goodness knows how many workers, to set up everything by morning.  Possibly a km of the street was taken over by great big boxes of living vegetable plants and even cattle, sheep, goats, olive trees, vineyards from various regions in France.  Something like that happened 20 years ago, but that display was entirely devoted to wheat.  I remember seeing pictures of large combines harvesting wheat on the Champs Élysée and thought the photo was a fake.  I underestimated the French passion for excellent wheat.  This time, many more groups of producers of food were involved.  First, a quiet shot of people walking parallel to the Champs-Elysée, under the trees.  We often sought the shade.

I doubt that this was a working bee hive.

It does seem strange to see steers eating in the middle of the most famous street in all of France, but this is the only way most Parisian children (and adults) can come into any sort of contact with the source of their food.  Food is so important to the culture of France.  It is not uncommon to give a full three hours to a leisurely dinner, slowly going from course to course, with lots of conversation.  The French pay a much higher percentage of their earnings for food than we do, but then their food is really superior to ours. 

Heinichen's workers explained the importance of hops, barley, etc. for making beer.  I liked the intensity with which people listened.

Lest there be any doubt, this was a popular event.  One saw a sea of humanity enjoying the displays.

If you were willing to wait long enough, you could get a lift above the crowds and take photos.

The above lift, seen from a distance:

Alsatian vines

Couples in love in Paris

Champs Elysees and parks approaching the Louvre

Along the River Seine

Park on the hill as one approaches Sacre Coeur

St Maurice

Avignon's Papal Palace

Paris is obviously a wonderful setting for couples. For more than a century, photographers have been taking pictures which portray couples oblivious to the hundreds of people streaming by. Some of the most famous of those photos were of course staged, but anyone in central Paris soon discovers that staging is hardly necessary. I have wondered what it is about Paris that gives couples such a profound a sense of security and anonymity that they can be completely engrossed in each other while the citizens of one of the world's most busy cities scurry hither and yon. These scenes are so commonplace that Parisians, and eventually tourists, either hardly notice or do indeed notice--and smile, possibly being reminded of what it was like to be a student.

These pictures depict couples in love, yet they are at different stages in life or in their relationships: the younger couples generally appear to be discovering each other with an intensity that blocks out the rest of society, one couple could have been on a honeymoon, and the more mature couples seem to be satisfied by simply being together while reading, talking or watching their children.

Trees along the Avenue des Champs-Elysee in May

The Avenue des Champs-Elysee is perfectly oriented so that one has views of the Place de la Concorde when strolling southeast and the Arc de Triomphe Etoile when heading northwest. Millions of biking fans see this famous avenue at the conclusion of each year's Tour de France, and it is one of the favourite places for tourists year around. Created in 1670, this avenue of nearly 2 kms is considered one of the most beautiful in all of Paris. If you continue going southeast, you enter the Jardin des Tuilieries, which provides increasingly better views of the Louvre, the palace essentially abandoned by Louis XIV.

My interest in enjoying towering enclosed spaces in the city's churches prompted me to spend an afternoon strolling under the avenue's stately trees. They have been planted in perfectly aligned rows, at times three or four rows wide on each side of the avenue, with their lower branches pruned so that people can easily walk underneath and have unobstructed views in all directions. Some trees are allowed to grow naturally, their branches forming partial arches, reminding me of a cathedral's vaulted aisles. Other trees have been pruned so that they form an enormous hedge along the avenue, at times reminding me of cathedral naves. Although the trees look artificial when severely pruned, this was the type of human control over nature that French royalty imposed on their surroundings in the 1600s and 1700s, and one happy consequence is that people have excellent views of important buildings and a sense of open spaces which are grandly displayed.

This Pentecost Monday (a holiday in France) was a bit windy, so the compacted dirt and stones under the trees at times provided clouds of dust which precluded taking pictures. At other times, the weather was ideal and people could sit on the hundreds of green benches and catch their breath or watch the world pass by. I enjoyed observing families relaxing together, individuals contemplating or sunning (the city is populated with sun worshipers), children calling out happily while riding around on their small scooters or bikes, couples paying homage to the springtime rituals of mating season, and people casually strolling and taking in the marvelous views. If only more city streets could have trees like these . . . .