Friday: May 07

Parc Monceau: and Le Procope, the world's first coffee shop (and better than Starbucks!).

Parc Monceau:

Ah, very French, so I don't know a lot about it. I think the original garden was laid out around 1783 or so. In 1861, under Haussmann, the architect of Paris, the garden was transformed to the park and was inaugarated by Napoleon III. It's a beautiful park, kinda oblong, and is about 20.3 acres big. At one end is a wonderful collonade that is just so picturesque; and throughout there is statuary and a beautiful bridge. It is kept up by the Marie of Paris, not personnally of course, but they do a beautiful job. Yesterday, as we walked through it, they were planting new spring flowers; I'd say about 200 pallets worth! The lawns are well kept although except when they are being reseeded, you are allowed on the lawns for picnicing, relaxing, etc. Benches are arranged throughout; and the circumfrunce is a walking/jogging track which gets a lot of use.

Here's an oddity: the first parachute jump ever made was made here! And there is a plaque to commemorate it. Interesting.

Click here to see other pictures.

Click here to see other pictures.

Beautiful gates serve for entry to the park, and the huge mansions that surround the park have a wonderful, if not noisy view access from their rear. the local schools bring the kids here for playing, and many many local small tour groups come by to study, photograph and discuss the various plants and trees.

You'll love it....and even more when you walk through it and lunch on one of the lawns. if nothing else, grab a sandwocj at a local shop. In the park is a concession but I don't know how good it is. I guarantee though that it will be expensive. An iPod really goes well here!

The park is located about 1KM from the Chaps Elysee, right in the heard of Paris.

Le Procope: The world'sfirst coffee shop!

Café Procope, in rue de l'Ancienne Comédie, is one of the oldest restaurants. It was opened in 1686 by the Sicilian Francesco Procopio dei Coltelli, with a slyly subversive name adopted from the historian Procopius, whose Secret History, the Anekdota, long known of, had been discovered in the Vatican Library and published for the first time ever in 1623: it told the scandals of Emperor Justinian, his ex-dancer Empress, and his court.

Café Procope, in the street then known as rue des Fossés-Saint-Germain-des-Prés, started as a café where gentlemen of fashion might drink coffee, the exotic beverage that had previously been served in taverns, or eat a sorbet, served up in porcelain cups by waiters in exotic "Turkish" garb. The escorted ladies who appeared at Café Procope in its earliest days soon disappeared. In 1689 the Comédie française was established across the street— hence the street's modern name— and the Procope became known as the "theatrical" café, and remained so: it was to the Procope on 18 December 1752 that Rousseau retired before the performance of his last play Narcisse had even finished, all too aware, now that he had seen it mounted, he said publicly, how boring it all was on the stage.

At Café Procope: at rear, from left to right: Condorcet, La Harpe, Voltaire (with his arm raised) and Diderot.It was the unexampled mix of habitués that surprised visitors, though no one remarked on the absence of women. Louis, chevalier de Mailly, in Les Entretiens des caffés, 1702, remarked:
“The cafés are most agreeable places, and ones where one finds all sorts of people of different characters. There one sees fine young gentlemen, agreeably enjoying themselves; there one sees the savants who come to leave aside the laborious spirit of the study; there one sees others whose gravity and plumpness stand in for merit. Those, in a raised voice, often impose silence on the deftest wit, and rouse themselves to praise everything that is to be blamed, and blame everything that is worthy of praise. How entertaining for those of spirit to see originals setting themselves up as arbiters of good taste and deciding with an imperious tone what is over their depth!”

Throughout the eighteenth century, the brasserie Procope was the meeting place of the intellectual establishment, and of the nouvellistes of the scandal-gossip trade, whose remarks at Procope were repeated in the police reports. Not all the Encyclopédistes drank forty cups of coffee a day like Voltaire, who mixed his with chocolate, but they all met at Procope, as did Benjamin Franklin, John Paul Jones and Thomas Jefferson.

Click here to see other pictures.

Click here to see other pictures

Le Procope is in 18th century styleAlain-René Lesage described the hubbub at Procope in La Valise Trouvée (1772): "There is an ebb and flow of all conditions of men, nobles and cooks, wits and sots, pell mell, all chattering in full chorus to their heart's content." In the increasingly democratic mix it will be noted there were still no women. Writing a few years after the death of Voltaire, Louis-Sébastien Mercier[8] noted:“ All the works of this Paris-born writer seem to have been made for the capital. It was foremost in his mind when he wrote. While composing, he was looking towards the French Academy, the public of Comédie française, the Café Procope, and a circle of young musketeers. He hardly ever had anything else in sight. ”

During the Revolution, the Phrygian cap, soon to be the symbol of Liberty, was first displayed at the Procope; the Cordeliers, Robespierre, Danton and Marat all used the cafe as a meeting place. After the Restoration, another famous customer was Alexander von Humboldt, who lunched here during the 1820s every day from 11am to noon. The Procope retained its literary cachet: Alfred de Musset, George Sand, Gustave Planche, the philosopher Pierre Leroux, M. Coquille, editor of Le Monde, Anatole France were all regulars. Under the Second Empire, August Jean-Marie Vermorel of Le Reforme or Léon Gambetta would expound their plans for social reform.

Café Procope was refurbished in 1988 to 1989 in eighteenth-century style. It received Pompeian red walls, crystal chandeliers, eighteenth century oval portraits of famous people that have been patrons, and a tinkly piano. The waiters were dressed in quasi-revolutionary uniforms.