Graz 3

Graz 2: Dreaming in colour

At a certain point, attempting to take a picture of every charmingly colourful building in Graz was hopeless, since they're all charming and colourful. Even worse, I started to discover this city's wonderful courtyards today. Believe it or not, this post's photos represent a (painfully-made) selection.

Seeing so many painted buildings here is amazingly inspiring, all the more so that it's in a "northern" culture. Why don't we build colourful cities back in Canada? Even if our buildings were still formally plain and technically dull, at least they'd be more cheerful throughout the year.

I'm also really digging the contemporary architecture in Graz. It ranges from the curiously surreal to the outright dreamlike, as though drawing from an architectural subconscious (Austria is, after all, the land of Sigmund Freud). True to reputation, Austrian construction and detailing are of VERY high quality.

Graz 1

I took the overnight train, with a few connections, to Graz, Austria, for a conference this week. I can't say I know much about Graz yet, but so far I can say that it is a gorgeous Baroque city painted in happy colours. Even though my first day wandering its impeccable streets was cold and rainy, I hardly noticed for all of Graz's pastel charm. There's also a good deal of interesting modern architecture here, too, which is playful enough to nicely complement the old city.

22-07-2011

Gothenburg

Not quite Paris, but I'm allowed to travel...

Gothenburg is an industrial port amongst rocky hills near the mouth of a river on Sweden's west coast. It has a Dutch-built 17th-century core, some handsome 19th- and early 20th-century architecture along wide avenues, and breezy "suburbs" on an archipelago accessible by ferry. 

And shrimp. It has so much good shrimp they use it as a relish for other food.

Provins

Provins is a town east of Paris which was once an important centre for medieval trade fairs. I read a little post praising its charms on a website describing day trips from Paris, and when I went myself I was pleasantly surprised. 

It's located around a hill with an upper and lower town, the lower town crossed by a canal. The town is full of lovely stone and half-timbered buildings, all covered in old red roof tiles. At times, grass paths and stone steps cut between houses, and a few streets at the edges of the old town are lined with stone garden walls. There are some interesting old churches, while up the hill are ramparts and the Tour César, a curious defensive tower built by the region's historic rulers, the Counts of Champagne. 

As you can see, I took a lot of photos. I quite liked Provins; I think it gave me something I'd been missing so far in and around Paris, which was the picturesque quality of a sizeable medieval hill town like those I fondly remember from Italy. Paris is beautiful, but I guess I have a stronger preference for a fine-scaled and particular architecture over rational, structures built to the size of kings' ambitions. 

CAUTION! Holiday Time! CAUTION!

So as I was heading out this morning, I saw that the bakery near my place was closed, which was unusual. Moreover, duct-taped on the side window was a menacing-looking official sign. Did the landlord lock them out for non-payment of rent, I thought? Has the building been re-zoned and expropriated? Were they closed for a health violation, or has the place been cordoned off by the police as a crime scene?

As I got closer, I realized: No! They're on vacation!

I guess this sign is from the bakery syndicate, informing (enforcing?) the annual time off, even helpfully informing customers of other fellow syndicated bakeries nearby. 

Although the contrast between my North American assumptions and the French reality was funny enough, I was still a bit puzzled. All the time I hear about how French standards and regulations are meant to uphold quality of life, whether it be delicious bread baked according to tradition or plenty of annual vacation for the employed. I certainly don't oppose either, but shouldn't a syndicate run by the most aesthetically-minded of bakers (this shop was where I first saw and then purchased my delicious pig, after all) provide notices informing of the staff's rest and recuperation that are a little less, um, scary?

That wasn't the only scary thing I saw in a shop window this morning:

The French Game of Life

I saw a cute, abbreviated interview on the Globe and Mail website with Elaine Sciolino about seduction in French everyday life. Sciolino is an American journalist who has worked as a correspondent in France, and recently published La Seduction: How the French Play the Game of Life.


Sciolino makes a good point about the French taking more pleasure out of playing "the game" itself than in attaining a goal. Having had a frustrating week here (without going into details), this was a good reminder to try to readjust my approach.


And so, dear reader, I kiss your hand, and I hope you know how much I look forward to seeing you again... with the next post!

Sewer Tour

My friend Gabrielle was in town for a few days, and as she'll be back in Paris eventually doing research on a project on the égouts (the city's sewers), I suggested that we check out the part of the sewers open to the public.

There were indeed displays and some special lighting (and a gift shop!), but make no mistake: It was still an operational sewer. Which means it STANK! It made for some interesting photos, though.