THE LOONS - THEIR CONCERT IN PARIS AS TOLD BY THEMSELVES !

 

Loons Paris L'Internationale

The Loons in Europe. Day 11: Paris.

We arrived in Paris yesterday morning, July 11, bleary-eyed and exhausted. It was too cold to fall asleep in the van as we traveled through the night from A Coruna to the airport in Porto, arriving there just before dawn, but as soon as the plane left the runway, we all lapsed into blissful unconsciousness. Maybe not blissful—we’re talking crooked neck, stiff legged, airplane seat sleep here—but it helped.

Sunny Laurent Mike Anja Paris

Our great friend, longtime Ugly Things writer Laurent Bigot, was there to meet us at Orly and guide us through the French subway system to the 13th Arrondissement where we’ll be staying for the next few days. Anja, Philip and I are at the apartment of Laurent and his wife, the fabulous artist Sunny Buick; the others scattered between two other apartments nearby. After more than a week on the road, we’re all running out of clean clothes so we repaired to a nearby laundromat, loaded up the machines, and then went out to explore the neighborhood. Located in the Left Bank of the Seine, the 13th Arrondissement is one of the coolest, most bohemian districts of Paris with a long tradition of street artists and left wing politics dating back to 1871 and the Commune de Paris. This spirit continues today. Street Art of all kinds adorns the walls of the 13th, including some really creative and accomplished work, some of it political, some of it decorative. Unlike most of Paris, there aren’t many tourists to be seen, just local people going about their daily business or socializing in the sidewalk cafes. By the time the drying cycle has been completed our eyes are heavy and our feet dragging so — in another thrilling turn of events for this travelogue — we return to the apartment for a long nap.

Feeling much restored, we’re ready for fun again. Our friends Jon Von and Poupee have invited us all over to their place for snacks and drinks. They live in a beautiful apartment in the 13th, tastefully decorated and furnished in the best mid-century style. It’s on the 23rd floor with a spectacular wide angle view of the city, including the Eiffel Tower. Wine, cheese, baguettes, Poupee’s excellent homemade guacamole (N.B. One of these things may not be French), good company—and the news just coming in that, despite all polls and predictions, the far right has been defeated in the elections here. What better way to end our first night in Paris?

The Loons in Europe. Day 12: Paris (still)

Loons Napoleon

History is a mysterious, impetuous beast. That’s why it’s so fascinating. A giant bronze statue of Napoleon I originally stood proudly atop the Vendome Column in Paris. Then Napoleon III decided it was “too trivial” and in 1863 ordered it be moved to Courbevoie. When the second French Empire fell in 1870 the statue was hauled down again and thrown into the Seine. From hero to zero. Eventually it was fished out and cleaned up, and in 1911 was installed in the famous Hotel Des Invalides where it imperiously overlooks the inner courtyard area. Heroic once more. We visited there today. His remains are there too (after being dug up from their original burial site and returned by the British), inside five coffins encased in a colossal marble sarcophagus in the vast central chamber of the Invalides, surrounded by gorgeously sculpted grieving angels beneath a huge, ornately decorated domed ceiling. It’s an awe-inspiring setting. There are others interred here too, including a few lesser Napoleons in significantly smaller tombs and sarcophagi. There’s even a marble tomb for one of the Napoleonesque wives—I forget which—but only her heart, behind a small, locked door. I didn’t find out what they did with the rest of her body. Maybe they threw it in the Seine.

It was our first visit to the Invalides — Anja, Philip and I accompanied by Laurent and Sunny — and we ended up spending most of the afternoon there, exploring most of the museums that are on site there, including a really interesting one covering the first and second World Wars. The artifacts from the Resistance (including the various tools and materials used for forging identity papers) and the Liberation of Paris are especially fascinating.

It was a packed day. Earlier we visited Notre Dame, now largely restored after the devastating fire of a few years ago. From there we explored the streets of the Left Bank, stopped by the famous book shop Shakespeare & Co, where I snared a couple of tasty finds from their bargain shelf, and enjoyed a truly delicious lunch at Cafe Metro.

MS Shakespeare & Co Paris

All of that walking, sightseeing and historical stimulation was a day in itself, but we also had a gig to play. Laurent and Cedric have booked us at L’Internationale so we all hop back onto the Metro and head for the 11th Arrondisement. Nick Wheeldon & the Living Paintings play before us, an original folk/rock group with piano and violin. They’re very good and get an enthusiastic response from the audience of about 100 people, a good draw for a Monday night. There’s no soundcheck for us, just a very quick line check right before we begin. We’re using very small, borrowed amps (5 or 10 watts, I think) and a scaled down drum kit with untuned, muffled heads. The PA and monitors are also small and underpowered. It’s adequate but not ideal. But the sound crew is helpful, and we do what we do. The audience is squeezed right up to the front of the stage, including some old friends. and they’re into it. It was especially good to see Jeroen and Petra, who came all the way from Rotterdam. Afterwards we sell and sign quite a lot of records, and a few t-shirts. It turns midnight while we’re all on the Metro so we wish a happy birthday to our Chris Cancelliere. We’ll celebrate properly tomorrow, our last day in this magical city

Anja Philip Versailles

The Loons in Europe. Day 13: Versailles/Paris.

It’s our last day in Paris and a day off, so naturally we decide to gorge ourselves on French art, history, culture, and, later, food. Marc, Chris M, birthday boy Chris C and Sarah have tickets for the Musee D’Orsay where there’s an exhibition on the Impressionist painters, Paris 1874: Inventing Impressionism. Meanwhile, Anja, Philip, Laurent, Sunny and I take the train west to the Palace of Versailles. It’s a place Anja in particular has always wanted to visit; the royal courts of Europe and their exploits, excesses and intrigues are one of her historical obsessions. Evidently many thousands of others are similarly obsessed, or at least curious, as the place is swarming with tourists. We spend a long, fascinating, exhausting day exploring as much of it as we can. There’s a lot to take in: the vast, ornately landscaped gardens with their lakes, ponds, elaborate fountains and water features, woodland areas, secret grottoes—the setting, no doubt, for numerous intimate, bodice-ripping liaisons back in the day—and of course statues. Lots and lots and lots of marble statues. We took a guided tour of the kings’ private apartments, then plunged onwards unattended, taking in a multitude of galleries crammed with paintings, mostly portraits of royalty and other long gone noblemen, dignitaries and court lackeys; we ogled the Royal Chapel, and gasped in awe as we elbowed our way through the magnificent Hall of Mirrors. According to Philip’s step counting app we walked about five miles grokking all of this very French history. On the return train we slumped, blank-eyed in our seats, our feet aching, our senses incapacitated.

Loons Metro

Back in Paris, we celebrate the birthday of Chris C, The Sun King of Drummers, at Chez Paul, a fabulous traditional French bistro on the Rue de Lappe in the 11th Arrondissement. Everyone is in great spirits having enjoyed a full day of excitement in this city of wonders. We toast Chris C, share stories from our day out and enjoy some of the most sumptuous dishes imaginable along with beer, champagne and some superb red wine. A truly unforgettable meal. Our senses restored and satiated, we drift back out into the narrow cobblestone street. Further down Rue de Lappe is the Balajo, a nightclub that showcased mostly French musicians as far back as the 1930s, including Django Reinhardt, Edith Piaf and Maurice Chevalier. It was once haunted by the likes of Marlene Dietrich and Louis Ferdinand Celine, who wrote (in Journey to the End of the Night): “An unfamiliar city is a fine thing. That's the time and place when you can suppose that all the people you meet are nice. It's dream time.” Although most of us have visited Paris before, it sums up our experience over the past three days rather well. There’s always more to discover. Dream time.

We pose for a photo outside the Balajo before heading for the Metro and our beds. We have to wake up before dawn to catch the 6:30 AM train to Stuttgart.

Mike Stax

Loons Balajo Paris