The oldest tree in Paris, a locust tree, stands only a stone’s throw from Notre Dame. In fact, you can see the cathedral from the tree, and presumably, the tree from the cathedral.
The species’ Latin name Robinia pseudoacacia, honors the royal French botanist Jean Robin, who introduced the tree in France. It was he who planted this particular specimen 400 years ago in what is now the Square René Viviani, a small city park in the 5tharrondissement, near the well-known bookshop Shakespeare and Company.
Ready for some history? When the tree was planted in 1602, Henri IV was king of France. He was the protestant king who converted to Catholicism and promulgated the Edict of Nantes, which gave Protestants religious liberties and effectively ending the bloody Wars of Religion.
Henri’s son and successor, the future Louis XIII, was one year old, and Henri himself was still nine years away from being assassinated. The tree’s next-door neighbor, Notre Dame cathedral, was already 250 years old.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the Atlantic, the Brit Bartholomew Gosnold, reached Cape Cod, Martha’s Vineyard, and Nantucket.
Every once in a while, and mostly in the winter months, Paris will get its feet wet. The city is cut into Left Bank and Right Bank (as I explain here) by the river Seine which has its source near Dijon and flows from there roughly northwest to reach the English Channel at Le Havre. Its drainage basin covers most of the north of France.
Despite the existence of several large storage reservoirs upriver of Paris built since 1950, the river has repeatedly risen to high levels in the city, especially in 1924, 1955, 1982, 1999-2000, June 2016 and January 2018.
flood markers at the river fighter-fighters – see 1910 at the very top?
The worst flood, however, dates back to 1910 and is often qualified as a 100-year flood. Contrary to popular belief, this doesn’t mean it occurs once in a hundred years, but has a one-in-a-hundred chance of occurring in any given year.
The 1910 flood resulted from a combination of high rainfall, snow and frozen ground, flooding of several tributaries of the Seine and the already saturated underground of the Paris Basin.
Over only ten days, the Seine rose to the 8,62m level (at Pont d’Austerlitz, the official point of reference) and took 35 days to go back down, peaking on January 28. All the neighborhoods along the river were under water, and people had to use boats and wooden walkways (like you see in Venice during Aqua Alta).
On January 20, ships could no longer navigate the river in Paris because they couldn’t pass under the bridges any longer.
photos from the 2016 and 2018 floods
On January 23, the Seine reached the quay walls which had been built to the height of the 1876 flood, and parts of the city were flooded. On January 28, peak day of the flood, some 22,000 basements and hundreds of streets were flooded with water and ice. The problem worsened as underground sewage pits that were not connected to the sewage network, polluted the water. The tankers that normally evacuate the sewage could no longer pass under the bridges, and the sanitary situation became worrying, with typhoid and scarlet fever cases.
The economy was hard hit, in particular bookstores and publishers whose entire stocks were destroyed. Some 20,000 buildings were flooded in Paris, as well as half of the existing métro network. The brand-new line 4, inaugurated only weeks earlier, is closed.
Flood marker in the Conciergerie on Cité Island
Today, the 1910 flood is the reference used for any rise of the river level. Throughout the city, you can find markers indicating the height of the 1910 flood.
The 2018 flood makes news headlines but remains well below the 1910 marker.
The latest two floods, in June 2016 and January 2018, made headlines around the world, and spectacular photos were posted on social networks, including by me.
riverbank in the 4th arrondissement during and after 2016 flood
The Louvre and the Musée d’Orsay, both located on the riverbanks, closed down and transferred their underground storage items to street level for safekeeping. Still, these floods remained well below that of 1910.
2018 flood at Pont de Rouelle – see the 1910 flood marker?
One important if unofficial reference for the level of the river is the stone statue of the Zouave on the Pont de l’Alma. It is the stone statue of a French soldier from the Zouaves, a former light infantry regiment of the French army which took their name from a North African tribe well-known for their bravery.
When the Seine is at its normal level, the Zouave remains completely dry. During the 1910 flood, the water reached its shoulders. When the bridge was rebuilt in the 1970s, the Zouave was moved to a lower position, making any direct comparisons impossible. However, it still remains a reference for Parisians, and it had crowds of visitors during the 2016 and 2018 floods, when the water reached up to its waist.
Zouave during the height of the 2018 flood
Paris flood 1910: flooded areas of the city in grey
When Paris decided it needed an underground train network, the Compagnie du Chemin de Fer Métropolitain de Paris, the metropolitan train company of Paris, was founded. It later bought up other smaller companies and incorporated their lines into its network, all under the name Métropolitain. Unlike other big cities which have a certain uniformity in their underground/subway signage, Paris has various different signs signalling an entrance to the below-ground transport network.
It all started with the Société Nord-Sud, whose initials can still be seen in the frames of some billboards on the platforms.
Nord-Sud built and ran three metro lines in the early 20th century before being bought up by the Compagnie du Chemin de Fer Métropolitain de Paris
The most famous entrance signs are those created by Hector Guimard in Art Nouveau style. There were two different types, with and without a glass roof. Of the former, only two remain today, at the stations Porte Dauphine and Abbesses.
The roof-less type is quite numerous and can be found all across town.
This type was given to other cities around the world, such as Mexico City, Chicago, Lisbon, or Moscow. These are all copies, though, the only original one was given to Montreal at the occasion of the World Fair in 1867. It can be found at the station Square Victoria.
The 1920s saw the introduction of totem sign, first more elaborate
then simpler:
At Madeleine station, the totem signals a metro entrance that doubles as an underground passage.
A few stations have particular entrances, such as Vaneau.
The most easily visible sign, however, might be the unadorned yellow M, dating from the 1070s. Not to be confused with another yellow M, it is surrounded by a steel circle and illuminated from the inside at night.
And would you believe that this is a métro entrance? It is indeed, at the station Palais Royal. The kiosque des noctambules, the night-owls’ booth, was created by an artist and set up in the year 2000.
Even if you’re only a little bit familiar with the French language, you’re bound to have noticed the slanting dashes the French put above certain vowels. At the very least you’ll know the one from café, right? There are three kinds, called “accents”, and you’ll see them mostly above the letter e but also sometimes with certain other vowels. However, do you know the catch (or hook) beneath the letter c?
This kind of c is called “c cédille” and like the accents above, it serves to indicate how the letter is pronounced. In French, the letter c can be pronounced “hard” like the C in Canada or “soft” like the C in Caesar (who is spelled César in French).
Normally, you pronounce a c the hard way when it is followed by the vowels a, o, or u or a consonant, and the soft way when it is followed by the vowels e or i or the letter y. However, sometimes you have a soft c before an a, o, or u, and in that case you add the catch to indicate the exceptional pronunciation. A very common example is the word ça (it/that), used all the time in the French equivalent of “How are you?”, namely “Ça va?” (the common answer to which is “Ça va”). It is also the French title of Stephen King’s novel “It”.
Another common occurrence is in the given name François, derived from “France”, also the French version of the current pope’s chosen name. France had two kings bearing that name in the 16th century. François II was the grandson of François 1er, with whom you might be familiar if you’ve been following me on Twitter, as he is an important character in my historic/time travel story.
Now that you know how to pronounce the name of two French kings and a French casual greeting, be advised that you might encounter the letter ç in other languages as well, where the pronunciation rule might be similar or different, for example in Turkish.
A final word: If you want to type the Ç or the ç on your non-French keyboard, hold down the ALT key and type on the number pad 128 for the upper-case and 135 for the lower-case “c cédille”.
Hidden away in a small street of the 11tharrondissement, but actually only a stone’s throw from Bastille, you can find the one and only Cat Café of Paris.
In this cozy place, where comfy armchairs sit alongside regular chairs, and homemade food is served, you might find your seat occupied by one of the four-legged residents if you leave it vacant. You can also see the cats balance on their overhead walkways or twisted like a pretzel in an old suitcase.
Signs remind you the cats have priority here, including on the piano.
Along with the menu, you can consult a notice bearing the profile of each cat.
If they consent, you can pet them. If you’re lucky, they take up residence in your lap. I’ve seen cats squatting seats, inspecting your food (they’re not supposed to taste it!), sitting in the window…
Please respect the rules for humans, and I’m sure you’ll have a lovely experience.
The construction of Notre Dame started in 1163 and concluded in 1345.
Do you remember where you were when you heard that Notre Dame was on fire? I do. It was a Monday night, I came home from swim practice, and when I opened the door, my husband greeted me with the words “Notre Dame is burning”. I stared at him, unable to process his words, so he switched on the TV, and sure enough, Notre Dame was burning. It was April 15, 2019. The moment that was probably most often shown in replay was when the spire over the crossing came crashing down into the roof. I took this photo a few years before the fire, while visiting the bell towers with out-of-town friends.
The first spire was built in that spot in the middle of the 13th century but, distorted by the winds over the centuries, eventually collapsed and was removed in 1786. The cathedral remained spireless until the restoration led by famous architect Viollet-le-Duc in the mid-19th century. The new spire was guarded by 16 statues, which were taken down for restoration on April 11, 2019 – four days before the fire.
After a few months’ interruption due to the strict lockdown, works on Notre Dame have picked up again. It is doubtful whether the whole rebuilding process will be concluded within five years, as the French president promised on the “morning after”. Given how long the initial construction of the cathedral took, what is a year or two more? At least, after some discussion, it was decided to rebuild the destroyed spire as it was before the fire.
Carpentry journeymen demonstrate the reconstruction of the nave
Tourists in Paris might be suspicious when they come across these historic water fountains. Can you really drink the water trickling down between those four statues?
Yes, you can. The water is perfectly safe. Just hold your water bottle underneath the trickle, and all you need a little patience because the flow isn’t very strong. But why have these old-fashioned fountains instead of modern ones which are more easily accessible and allow for a stronger flow? Oh, but we have those too.
These old-fashioned fountains have a long history behind them. Let me tell you.
Once upon a time, there was a rich Englishman with French roots, who saw the difficulty of supplying water to Paris following the 1870 siege of the capital. He offered to provide 50 drinking water fountains and asked the mayor to accept this donation. The name of this philanthropist was Sir Richard Wallace. His heritage is still visible in the urban landscape of Paris today, and the fountains are called Wallace fountains in his memory.
There are four different types of water fountains, and all four can still be found around town. They supply potable water from 15 March to 15 November but are turned off in the winter to prevent freezing and bursting pipes. The model you will see most is quite large, which was meant to help people spot it. On a pedestal stand four caryatids with their backs to each other, holding up a pointed dome. The water trickles down in the center non-stop day and night.
This model was inspired by the Fontaine des Innocents.
There used to be two tin-planted iron goblets on small chains but they were removed for hygiene reasons in 1952.
The second of Sir Wallace’s models was a wall-mounted fountain where the trickle of water falls from the mouth of a naiad into a basin. These were cheap to install and should have been mounted in large numbers on the walls of buildings such as hospitals. It didn’t happen, though, and today there remains only one of these, rue Geoffroy Saint-Hilaire near the Jardin des Plantes entrance.
There are also two small versions. One is very common in public parks, a simple push-button fountain, well-known to parents and nannies who bring their kids to play.
The last model is a small version of the caryatid fountain, with slender columns replacing the statues to reduce the production cost.
The fountains are all painted the same colour, a strong green, required by the city of Paris to match their other street furniture. Today, some of the fountains have been painted in different colours, but the majority is still green.
Many homeless people drink from the fountains even today, as they are one of the rare free points of access to water. So the legacy of Sir Richard Wallace lives on, 130 years after his death.
When you walk on Paris streets, you’re bound to notice the uniformity of the building facades. Almost everywhere you look, buildings will be the same height and in a similar style, with cream-colored stone facades.
These facades are called “Haussmann-style facades”. As I explained before, in the mid-1800s, Baron Haussmann, on orders from Emperor Napoléon III, transformed the city of Paris.
As part of the city’s transformation, the old houses were torn down, and new ones were built. The Immeuble de Rapport (Revenue House) and the Hôtel Particulier (Townhouse) became the reference for these buildings. They were meant to resemble each other, the esthetics of the rational. Now let’s have a closer look at these Haussmann buildings.
As you can see in the photo, then as now, the ground floor housed the shops opening onto the street. You’ll notice as well that the first floor just above the shops has a comparatively low ceiling. The rooms on this level were part of the shops or housed their back shops, workshops, or storage area. The second floor was the noble floor, with high ceilings and high windows that let in a lot of light. Wrought-iron balcony rails run along the façade. Can you see how the windows are smaller from one floor to the next as you go up? That’s because with each level you go up, the ceiling comes down. Accordingly, these levels were less expensive and people with slightly lower income than the rich second-floor people lived there. The wrought-iron rails running around the façade on the fifth floor mainly serve esthetic purposes.
The rooms under the roof were tiny and cramped servants’ rooms. Service staircases run down from their level directly to the kitchens of the second floor, so the servants could easily and discreetly access their workplaces. Today, many of these servants’ rooms have been reconfigured, often regrouped to form small apartments that are often rented to students. The second-floor apartments are still as they were in the old days, enormous rooms with high ceilings, stucco, giant fireplaces and big windows.
One thing that will strike you when you look at a map or a satellite view of Paris are those wide streets, called avenues and boulevards, that run through the city. They look like someone had drawn them with a ruler, which is somewhat unusual for an old European city. But they were drawn with a ruler, so to speak, by Baron George Eugène Haussmann. Let me tell you how and why he transformed Paris in the mid-1800s.
It was the time of the Second Empire, the reign of Napoléon III, nephew of Napoléon Bonaparte (who reigned during the First Empire). Napoléon III had lived in exile in London, and he had been impressed by the city that was rebuilt after the big fire of 1666, becoming a model for hygiene and modern urbanism. Made Prefect of the département Seine (Paris), Baron Haussmann was given the task by Napoléon III to transform Paris. The city was composed of crowded neighborhoods with narrow streets, dirt abounded, clean water and clean air were scarce.
Haussmann wanted to improve the flux of people, goods, air and water for the city. The name of his campaign was Paris embellie, Paris agrandie, Paris assainie – A more beautiful, bigger, and cleaner Paris. Another aim of his campaign was to prevent possible popular unrest, which was quite frequent in Paris: Following the 1789 French Revolution, there had been revolts notably in 1830 and 1848. (The 1830 uprising inspired the barricades in Victor Hugo’s Les Misérables). By demolishing the old center of Paris, Haussmann deconstructed the centers of unrest and scattered the working-class population throughout the new neighborhoods. The old crowded neighborhoods were destroyed, narrow streets made way for large avenues and boulevards. The new train stations are served by some of them, to facilitate the transport of goods arriving by train. In order to improve hygiene through better air quality, new parks were created (Parc Montsouris in the south of the city, Parc des Buttes Chaumont in the northeast) and existing ones improved (Bois de Vincennes, Bois de Boulogne). A square (small park) was set up in each of the 80 neighborhoods. (Four neighborhoods constitute one arrondissement.) Haussmann also transformed the Place Saint Michel and its fountain which had marked him in his student times by its dirtiness.
Saint Michel fountain at Place Saint Michel today
In order to showcase monuments both new and old, Haussmann organized vast perspectives by creating avenues (such as the Avenue de l’Opéra for the Opéra Garnier) or squares, such as the one in front of Notre Dame.
In parallel, working with engineer Eugène Belgrand, Haussmann created a water conveyance network as well as a modern sewer network, and launched the construction of theaters (Théâtre de la Ville and Théâtre du Châtelet) and two train stations (Gare de Lyon and Gare de l’Est).
It is estimated that the works of Baron Haussmann modified 60% of the city of Paris. The new buildings lining all those new avenues and boulevards are a story in themselves.
If you have ever visited Paris during the month of August, you’ll have noticed many businesses are closed with signs like the ones above. You wonder why they would close in prime tourist season? Let’s go back in time, and you will understand.
Paid annual leave was established in France after the “Front Populaire” won the 1936 elections. From two weeks per year the duration rose to four weeks in 1968. (It’s now five weeks.) Coupled with a reduced-price “annual leave” train ticket, this extended the possibility to vacation by the sea beyond the upper classes who’d enjoyed this privilege since the 19th century.
School holidays were originally meant to leave children free to help their parents with the harvest and the vintage. However, with more and more parents working salaried job instead of the fields, and the rising prosperity level following World War II, the dates were gradually moved forward to start at the beginning of July.
Factories got into the habit of slowing production in August, the hottest month of the year, often obliging their workers to take their paid leave during that time, with a domino effect on suppliers and other businesses, as well as the workers’ spouses.
The long and short of it, and despite a recent tendency to fragment the annual leave into smaller parcels, August remains the favorite time for the French to go on vacation.
A few years back, my friend Sarah Elzas (check out her work) who works for the radio, did a piece on the subject titled “France is fermée” for which she interviewed me among others. Listen to it here:
