Harley-Davidson and Père Lachaise

On our fourth full day in Paris we awoke early, determined to make up for the previous day's rain and domesticity.  We began with a stop at our neighborhood croissant store.  I can't say enough about how handy these are in the mornings and so typically Parisian.  Walking down the street eating a croissant while taking in the sites and sounds of early morning Paris, that is a memory we won't soon forget.

The previous night I had researched and written directions in my little spiral notebook how to navigate ourselves to the local Harley-Davidson dealership.  We knew we had to visit as Betty and I both love to ride.  Our goal was not to just show up, buy t-shirts and say, "Hey, we visited an H-D store in Paris".   Here, in the States, several people we have known over the years collect Harley shirts from all over.  Naturally, we thought this was something done by almost everyone so, before we left home we packed a few Harley shirts from our local dealership with the intention of giving them to whomever collected shirts in Paris.  Easier said than done.

Making our way to Blvd de Beaumarchais we found ATS Bastille Harley-Davidson.

 Store fronts, as they are in Paris, are rather small.  Because of this, the Paris Harley-Davidson dealership is spread out between three addresses, which do not connect internally.  Meaning to move from one section to another requires you to leave one store, walk a few steps to the next store and enter.  While this was a tad odd to me, it is apparently commonplace in Paris.

Once we found our way to the motorclothes store we set out to find t-shirts for ourselves and our boys.  During the time we were shopping we attempted to strike a conversation with the sales ladies, not an easy process as they spoke only a small amount of English.  We were able to let them know we were from America but they had no idea where our city was.

After selecting t-shirts and a couple of patches for our jackets, we asked the sales ladies if anyone collected t-shirts as we had some we wanted to give them.  Neither sales lady understood we wanted to "give" the shirts to someone; they thought we were trying to sell them.  Finally, they told us we had to talk to the manager but he only just stepped out for a few minutes, but we could wait.

While waiting we made our way through the other store fronts, basically just enjoying the Paris pastime of window licking, window shopping for the rest of us.  It was in the last store front we entered that we felt we had our best chance of dropping off our shirts.  This last store front was the parts and service department and it was here we met Big Frank.  Big Frank let us know he spoke English, which he did very well.  After a few minutes of introductions and explaining where we are from, we told him about our shirts.  Again, he thought we were wanting to sell them.  Apparently, the idea of collecting Harley-Davidson t-shirts is not a practice in Paris.  We took some time explaining that, in the States, shirts are given or exchanged for a variety of reasons but central to it was the idea of fellowship and goodwill to fellow motorcycle enthusiasts.  Eventually, he understood and accepted our gift of shirts stating he would pass them on to any of his crew that wanted them.  Honestly though, by this point it wouldn't have surprised me if he dropped them in the trash as soon as we walked out.  Either way, we accomplished the two things we wanted to accomplish, a gift of shirts from our local dealership and extra room in our luggage going home.  There was no way I was going to pack those shirts for the return trip home.

Our Harley-Davidson experience took most of the morning which was fine as we had really only planned on doing two things today.  Since we were close to Père Lachaise cemetery, our goal was to pop in for a few minutes, visit some grave sites that had meaning to me and then just wander the area the rest of the day while making our way back to the studio.

As we headed to the cemetery I noticed something we had probably passed several times throughout the city but hadn't paid attention to, Paris' version of a drinking fountain.

At first I thought it was just a small decorative fountain but as we got closer I noticed the little signs attached.  Being able to read a little French, I was able to figure out it was actually a water dispenser for public use to refill water bottles.  How cool is that?

I later found out, depending on where you are in the city, there are water dispensers that dispense sparkling water.  Really!

When you think about it, what could be more naturally Parisian than a water fountain with sparking water.  I love it!

After refilling our water bottles, we pushed on.

We found the entrance to Père Lachaise at the end of the street, okay so we didn't really find it.  It was more like we reached the end of the street and I saw this decorative entrance in a wall and wondered what was behind the wall.  Naturally, being the male that I am, I announced I had found our destination and it was right where I knew it would be.  Betty, being the ever supportive wife, let me believe she was impressed with my navigational skills.

As I mentioned above, the original idea was just to spend a minutes, maybe an hour, visiting grave sites that held some meaning to me.  After just  few steps in, I knew the original plan was now null and void.  Père Lachaise cemetery is huge!  And it is gorgeous, the tombs are exquisite works of art.

 

Cobblestone roads crisscross the entire cemetery, each with their own street name.

And stairs, oh the stairs.  Whoever said Paris was flat had not walked through this cemetery.

After climbing a few sets of stairs it was time for a sit down to catch our breath.

 Moving on we captured more pictures of the cemetery.  As an added unexpected plus, inside almost every single mausoleum is a piece of stained glass.  Some of these were intact and very beautiful.

 Eventually, we made it to the grave sites of our original plan.  The first site we found was Oscar Wilde.

Followed by Proust

Balzac

And Frederic Chopin

 In all, we spent four or five hours exploring Père Lachaise cemetery.  It really is awe inspiring how decorative the tombs are and how well preserved most of them are.  There are several more historical figures buried there but these are the ones that, for me, hold special meaning.

Leaving Père Lachaise, we continued our day by walking to Place de la Bastille which, to quote Rick Steves, is a non-sight.  The Bastille was torn down after the French Revolution, nothing remains of the structure.  The only thing to mark the location is an obelisk with a golden figure on top.

 

It was now late in the day and although we had snacked during the day, we were now tired and hungry but far from the studio.  From Place de la Bastille we made for the Seine, knowing we could follow it back to Notre Dame, turn right, then just a few blocks north to our studio.  It was during this walk we discovered two things.  The first, never trust a map.  Looking at the map we were using, none of this day's excursion appeared that far from the studio.  Believe me, looks are deceiving, we walked over 7 miles that day, not including the distance walked inside Père Lachaise. So, never trust a map.

The second thing we discovered was the delicious, aromatic and juicy rotisserie chickens for sale throughout Paris.  Having passed two, by the time we reached the third Betty and I had decided chicken, it's what's for dinner.  We selected a nice plump chicken and a side of au gratin pomme de terres.  Between the size of the chicken and the ample portion of potatoes, we knew we had lunch for the following day as well.  Two meals for two people at a cost of €11, what a deal!

And thus, our day ended.  Exhausted but well fed.  We took in a lot this day but it was well worth it for the sites, the company and experience.