9 April, 2007 | Leave a Comment
This is my last post about my sister’s visit. Her final weekend à Paris was quite a whirlwind. We hit three cemeteries (Montparnasse, Montmartre and Père Lachaise) and toured sites from the movie Amélie in Montmartre. We both love this film. Like so many other kooky gals, we both recognize parts of ourselves in Amélie, one of the most fabulous movie characters ever created.
If you’ve ever set foot in Montmartre, you know it looks nothing like the world created in Amélie. Filmmakers — they’re such liars! But you can still imagine it. First stop, Café des Deux Moulins on rue Lepic. This is the café where Amélie worked in the film:
Inside, this café is surprisingly dumpy and very tiny. I don’t know how much of the film was actually shot inside this café and how much was shot on a soundstage. Because I have become very pushy since living in Paris (just like the locals), we managed to snag the booth where Nino Quincampoix (Amélie’s crush) sat in the film. If you visit Les Deux Moulins, perhaps the most crowded café in Paris, you are advised to bring an oxygen mask — that is, if you value breathing. The smoking ban can’t come soon enough. Ack!
Our next — and final — stop (this was a short tour) was the grocery owned by Collignon in the film, the brute that Amélie decided to drive slowly insane. The grocery was an integral part of the film:
The owners of the real grocery — Au Marche de la Butte — are decidedly unpretentious (unlike the café crowd) and bask in Amélie’s glow. There are photos and movie posters all over:
My sister purchased hazelnuts, just like Amélie did in the film. She’s going to put them in a jar at home:
Now on to dead celebrities. I love to take photos in cemeteries (and I have tons I’ve not even looked at yet). But someone I was hanging out with didn’t just want to take photos — no, she wanted to collect dirt from each of these cemeteries, which she shoveled into giant Zip-loc bags that weighed a ton. Don’t ask me what she’s going to do with this dirt (I heard mention of Ebay). Other debris from the ground was also collected — “debris,” as in “anything found on the ground is debris.” Ahem. Was I forced to look around Père Lachaise for CCTV cameras? No comment.
In fairness, it was my idea to enter a dilapidated crypt and lift a heavy cement slab in the hopes of seeing a coffin or a corpse. But then some busybody walked by and that plan was aborted.
Paris cemeteries are wonderlands. They’re filled with the graves of celebrities, which is an attraction for many. These graves can be quite difficult to locate, but many of them are covered in loads of crap, thus making them easier to identify. Behold the tackfest officially known as “Serge Gainsbourg’s grave”:
There were cigarette lighters, a coffee mug…cabbages.
Also in Montparnasse Cemetery, Jean Seberg’s grave always draws a crowd:
What is Jean Seberg famous for? Being dead. [Why can't Paris Hilton and Lindsay Lohan and the Olsen twins follow in her footsteps? Don't be like Anna Nicole Smith and kick it when you're almost 40, girls -- die now!]
A favorite Paris tradition is to place métro tickets on the graves of dead celebs. Behold the grave of François Truffaut in Montmartre Cemetery:
I gave François one of my expired métro tickets. And Émile Zola too. It’s a great way to honor the dead and clean out your pockets. But you know, whoever left a mint on Guy de Maupassant’s grave — that’s just tacky.
The most famous dead celeb grave in Paris belongs to Jim Morrison, of course. A grave that is behind barricades and has its own security guard:
And bravo to the person who left a whole bottle of whisky there. [Rolls eyes.] I don’t really care about Jim Morrison, though this is the second time I’ve posted about him since being here. Still, because I was in Père Lachaise, I couldn’t resist the spectacle of his grave. I hadn’t been there since I was in high school, when visiting Jim Morrison’s grave was like the coolest thing ever. It’s the same phenomenon as the Mona Lisa — it’s famous for being famous and people want to see it for that reason alone. They will travel all the way to the 20th arrondissement of Paris and trek around one of the world’s largest cemeteries just to stand in front of the grave of a man they could care less about, simply because everyone else does it.
“Why are you standing here?”
“Because everyone else is.”
“Yeah, me too.”
Go visit Oscar Wilde’s grave! He was more interesting.
After this, we left the cemetery and got lost in the métro system for quite a while. Oops. Then, continuing the theme of the day, we ate dinner at the Hard Rock Café:
Though the HRC is British in origin (right?), the HRC Paris is like a little slice of North America. Nearly everyone eating in there was American or Canadian and our waitress was Canadian too. It was like entering some grand American-Canadian Embassy. No French allowed! You want a hamburger well-done? No probs! We won’t make you eat a piece of meat that’s dripping with blood. Chocolate cake? Yes, we serve chocolate freakin’ cake! Plain yellow mustard? Mais oui!
And it’s called French’s! Ha! Bwahahahahaha!
[Good grief, it's time for me to go home. Or at least back to London...]
Tags: Amélie
Anglofille said @ 3:27 pm | paris sights + walks, pop culture |
- Comments RSS | TrackBack URI
-
I remember going to Paris when I was in my late teens. Jim Morrison’s grave was talked about in hushed tones throughout the course of the trip. I never went (not really a fan), but the others who did talked about it in almost romantic terms. They tried to make out that it was very daring as it was surrounded by various dodgy types who could ‘pull a knife’ at any moment. The things you believe when you are 16.
However, seeing the graves of Keats and Shelley in Rome three years ago was a big thrill. It was in such an serene spot in Rome - which is quite an achievement. And they had no tacky memorabilia spoiling the quiet contemplation.
-
I adore the film Amélie. Looks like you had a great time with your sister. I love your blog and look forward to reading more!
-
Korova: I missed the Keats and Shelley graves in Rome (though I did see the house from the outside). Sounds very nice. Next time!
Writer: Thank you so much!
-
What is Jean Seberg famous for?
“Noo York Herald Tribuuuuuune!”
-
Maitresse: Ah yes, I knew there was something else she was famous for.
-
Hi … I never was a fan of “The Doors,” even in the very beginning. Yeah, I’m that old. Kathleen Riddell, a Morrison scholar, just posted an item on grubstreet.ca, about TIM, which is 3 July ‘07, in Paris. It’s attracted a lot of attention. Still, I’m not sure I get Morrison, but I find the photographs, here and elsewhere, of the grave site, most compelling. Morrison is a complex icon.
Riddell has two other Morrison posting on grubstreet.ca,
http://grubstreet.ca/articles/katieriddell/iconjim+time2006.htm
and http://grubstreet.ca/articles/katieriddell/morrisonmeetsrimbaud2006.htmAgain, these items get a lot of attention, but I just can’t get it. In this one case, it ain’t my age. Must be my mind.
Keep posting, and I’ll get it, eventually, I hope. Seems I’m missing something big.
Thanks for letting me vent.
Sclick
