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maelicia.livejournal.comHello there, Revolution-lovers. I am living in Paris for the next four months (oh, yes) in the 17e arr., and for now I got the time to partially see the Parc Monceau, and on my way there, the famous Lycée Carnot in front of which Pierre Chaunu needs to spit every time he passes in front of it -- or so he says.
Today, I ventured to discover the Rue Saint-Just of Paris:
Here comes the joke about it -- prepare to laugh: I really love how it's a tiny, ridiculously tiny street almost out of the "walls" of Paris, that there's nothing worth seeing, and not even actual houses, and that it also happens to be connected to the "Avenue du cimetière des Battignoles". Oh, yes, because not only is it a dead-end, but it leads to a cemetary and all the addresses at the street are thus cemetary-related businesses:
No kidding.
Flowers for the dead, undertakers, marble for the tombstones and vaults, burial maintenance. Oh, the joke. Saint-Just appreciates the macabre humour, guys. It's really subtle. Subtler than that, you're called Simon Schama. Someone lol'ed himself to death when he gave him that street. Seriously. I'd like to see the minutes of the council that decided to attribute him that street... At least Robespierre's got a métro station, even if it's technically outside the 'walls' of Paris! Still better a métro station in a communist commune than a macabre intramuros street...
I think I stayed just two minutes on the actual street, because it was really almost, well, like they say la zone. It was really lost, and there were random people staring at me oddly or angrily or wtf-y, probably wondering why I was taking photos of the entrance of the cemetary, of the tiny businesses, and of the street panels, because none of them probably know who poor Saint-Just is.
--And, erm, because it just had to happen, as I was walking back the Avenue de Clichy to get the farthest from there, that's what I found:
Ooooooooooooooh dear. Now that's more of that same humour, isn't it? Oh dear.
Today, I ventured to discover the Rue Saint-Just of Paris:
Here comes the joke about it -- prepare to laugh: I really love how it's a tiny, ridiculously tiny street almost out of the "walls" of Paris, that there's nothing worth seeing, and not even actual houses, and that it also happens to be connected to the "Avenue du cimetière des Battignoles". Oh, yes, because not only is it a dead-end, but it leads to a cemetary and all the addresses at the street are thus cemetary-related businesses:
No kidding.
Flowers for the dead, undertakers, marble for the tombstones and vaults, burial maintenance. Oh, the joke. Saint-Just appreciates the macabre humour, guys. It's really subtle. Subtler than that, you're called Simon Schama. Someone lol'ed himself to death when he gave him that street. Seriously. I'd like to see the minutes of the council that decided to attribute him that street... At least Robespierre's got a métro station, even if it's technically outside the 'walls' of Paris! Still better a métro station in a communist commune than a macabre intramuros street...
I think I stayed just two minutes on the actual street, because it was really almost, well, like they say la zone. It was really lost, and there were random people staring at me oddly or angrily or wtf-y, probably wondering why I was taking photos of the entrance of the cemetary, of the tiny businesses, and of the street panels, because none of them probably know who poor Saint-Just is.
--And, erm, because it just had to happen, as I was walking back the Avenue de Clichy to get the farthest from there, that's what I found:
Ooooooooooooooh dear. Now that's more of that same humour, isn't it? Oh dear.
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