Paris, day 1, guided by Khaldia's laughter

Dr. Khaldia, Belabbes, in front of her car, in front of her building, where her apartment is on the 7th floor.
Her view includes the Eiffel Tower, way in the distance, but it's there.  She has taken off a couple of days of work to give us the grand tour.  It will include everything from the Place de la Concorde to the Louvre, using every form of transportation from their beautiful big-windowed buses to their trams.

The view from Khaldia's window, of charming older style French townhouses.
The large street she lives near was the one that the American soldiers used to liberate Paris from the Nazis.  Lots of monuments.

 Djelloul arranges for a ticket home the next morning, as the family needs him.  He'll spend part of this first day with us, see a friend, then a walk down the Champs Elyse in the evening. We have a good night's rest after a late arrival the night before, then with a few crossants and a little juice it's  out the door, down the street,

 And about a mile later, here's the bus terminal.
We head for that tower, and I can't help take pictures of the intriguing architecture through the bus windows.

I love the whimsical turrets on this building, scrunched between romanesque and le Courbisier.

We cross the Seine.  Note th tined glass.

Ad on to the opera house.  It's so monumental, no cameral lens can take it in at one gulp.  You have to back into the Seine, see it from  a plane or take it in little bites.  I choose the little bites.

Irresistable joy in these frolicking dancers.  Clearly having a much better time than the musicians on the wall beside them.

 We hear raucous music and it takes awhile to figure out they're playing a beatles song.
They heard we were coming so they hired a band -- or, rather, this band showed up.  A small crowd of families appreciated their efforts, and the efforts of the girl brass band in pink wigs.  Especially a little boy.

These musicians do not like Beatles or pink wigs.  It  IS after all, an opera house.  

More of the opera house.  Monumental.

 Then it's on to Place de Lafayette, the big department store that looks like every other fancy one on the outside, kind of, until you get indoors and look up.  And up.   Wow.

 Djelloul and Khaldia do what they always do, and do well, pick out clothes for the family.
First Aicha, then Jess, then Emma Nour.  They're very good, very efficient.  I'm in awe.
The staff is warm, attentive, plentiful, and it doesn't hurt that it's sale days!

 We have lunch at the cafeteria on the roof, and then take pictures outside on the roof deck.  Here's Djelloul and the opera house.  See?  Even from here you can't take it all in.

We pass these wonderful book and print stalls  Easy to linger, but we hear the bells of Notre Dame.

 It's some special hour.  I run to the cathedral to hear the bells up close.
But it's too noisy with all the crowds.  The only way to hear the melodious harmonies and chords of the powerful chiming of scores of huge bells is to cup my hands and concentrate.

 It's amazing.

Khaldia and I have fond memories of going up in the high gargoyled balconies with the girls, and Emma Nour dangling her green rubber dragon before a gargoyle's open mouth.  We both had to smile.  But no time for that now.  Places to go. . .

 Bridges to cross.

A bubble artist.

And I think a train to take to get to the outsider art museum.  Khaldia said it had been the great fabric market that we'd shopped at before.  My yellow tablecloth came from there.  Now it's a museum, and a fabulous one.  Wonderful art from around the world -- including a special show of Saul Steinberg's drawings.  All in dark galleries, carefully lit.  Very tasteful, informative, illuminating museum.  No pictures allowed though.  Sigh.

Khaldia in the coffee shop.  We had a tasty snack.

And both admired this girl's style.

 And where is the museum?  In Montmarte!  And what does that mean?  Lots and lots of steps to climb.  We could have taken the tram but heck.  How else could we see the early spring flowers blooming?

The great Sacre Couer, and balancing act.

We follow the crowds inside to the mighty archways, past flickering candles, statuary, rows of pews lit by light through red stained  glass, exquisite window after window, and the song of a service. The crowd was constant and murmmuring,  but the people bent in prayer did not mind.  

Another church above the tram up the mountain.  You can never have too many churches, I guess.

We come to the square where all the artists display their artwork and scrunch over their notepads drawing portraits.  We find a lovely little painting for Paul.

I especially identified with this portrait artist.  The little girl was very still.  She was not about to smile.

And then we head down.  Khaldia has a special gelato place in mind.

 I have a photo of Aicha under this very same painting, only the store is an antique store.  Well, who could change such a charming painting?

 Delicious.  Just what we needed.

Intriguing merchandising.  

Who knew that fondus needed a refuge?

In front of the Moulin Rouge, and all for the sake of Toulous Latrec.  It is the seediest street,
and I couldn't wait to escape to the metro below.

Interesting theater life in Paris.

Don't remember what this building is, but we're happy to be there.

The famous Shakespeare bookstore.  Too mobbed to enjoy, but again Khaldia and I enjoyed memories of when Aicha took over the place, finding a book she needed to read. 

Good ole' Walt -- He's from Brooklyn, too!

Nothing friendlier than books.

A tourist spot for all kinds of food.

We pick up some for breakfast, I think.

Then it's back to her apartment.

 Are we ready to walk the Champs Elyse?
It's Djelloul's last night with us.  This time we take the car, and park in a huge underground parking lot that reminded me of the ones under Michigan avenue in Chicago.  Very efficient.
A cool, misty moisty night, but people were out.

Djelloul, Rock, Khaldia and I in front of the Arch de Triumphe.  It is way more huge than it looks.  Armies marched through it.
Now it's just us folk.

Djeloul loves the car showrooms -- he wants to show us the original Renault which he saw here the last time.  We saw one or two of the little cars puttering down the highways of Algeria.  Small?  Think of a sewing machine case on wheels.  But alas, it was no longer on exhibit.  Lots of other cars to see though.  It was the way cars were sold in the 50's.  You came into a fancy showroom, sat in the cars, pushed the buttons, then told the man what color and features you wanted on your car, and it was delivered to your home.  

Families loved it!

Sweets!

Very, very fancy sweets.  For the sweet.

And Djelloul returns to Jess and the girls with our heartfelt thanks for all his generosity, kindness, insight and friendship.
Tomorrow it's the Louvre and other museums with Khaldia.  And the next day the Eiffel Tower and the Pompideau Center, and then home.