Château de malmaison

Two weeks ago, March 20th, was Naw-Ruz, the Baha'i New Year. I took the day off work and we decided to go on a short day trip to welcome in the new year. The weather was pleasant -- bright but cloudy, dry and reasonably warm. It was a welcome change from winter.

The château de malmaison.

We settled on visiting the Château de Malmaison, the former residence of Empress Josephine, Napoleon's first wife. This is in the suburb Rueil-Malmaison, a short train or bus ride west of Paris.

If you know some French, you probably realized that "Malmaison" sounds like "bad house": mal means bad or wrong (like in the English words maladjusted and malnutrition), and maison means house. Sometimes when you see curious expressions like this in place names, it's actually a coincidence, and the name originates with some other words, perhaps words which are now archaic or forgotten, or even from a different language. For example, the names of the English towns of Puddletown and Catbrain are actually derived from Middle English phrases meaning "farmstead on the marsh" and "soil mixed with clay and stones", respectively.

In the case of Malmaison, however, it really does have the meaning we think. In 846, a mansion in this area was burned to the ground by Viking invaders. The area was then dubbed malmaison, meaning "mansion of back luck". Looks like the name stuck!

On the way to the chateau, we bumped into the parc de l'amitié, the park of friendship, a local park with some Japanese gardens, a rose garden, and some other features. Given the name and the Japanese theme, I thought that perhaps it was a garden of international friendship -- perhaps the results of the town being twinned with somewhere in Japan, or something like that. But I was unable to find any evidence of that. As far as I can tell, the city planners just wanted to build a cool park. That's okay with me!

The Japanese garden featured a pond and a scenic bridge. And blossoms, lots of blossoms.

In the grounds of the chateau itself is an art collection of Daniel Iffla, a 19th-Century French financier and philanthropist who named himself Osiris (yes, the same name as the Egyptian god). It was a modest collection of various objets d'art from various cultures around the world -- China, Persia, Greece, Rome. It was also really dark inside (presumably to protect the art), and quiet. It doubled as a good place to quickly change and feed Maëlys, too.

Osiris himself!

It was lunchtime when we arrived, and the chateau closes for lunch! The gardens were still open, however, so that afforded us some time to enjoy our own lunch (we'd packed a little picnic) and look around. The gardens are home to a large rose garden, not in bloom at the time of our visit, and several statues and little streams dot the area. Attempts have been made to have the garden resemble how it was at the time of Empress Josephine, although in her day the gardens extended much further in all directions. Josephine grew up in Martinique, in the Caribbean, and so apparently having a well-tended, diverse garden was a particular source of joy for her. There used to be a greenhouse where she grew pineapples!

One of the garden paths, with the chateau in the distance.

As you can see in the picture at the beginning of this post, it is a nice building, but not particularly grand. That is, it is an excellent example of a stately home, but if you had asked me to guess who lived inside, I would not have imagined "empress". The reason for that is because Josephine purchased the mansion way back when Napoleon was just a general, busy invading Egypt. When Napoleon returned, apparently he was upset at her for purchasing such a run-down mansion that would require so much work to renovate! He didn't have much time to be angry, however, as he was busy planning a coup d'état to overthrow the unpopular government and install himself as emperor. They divorced in 1810 following acrimonious disputes about affairs and Josephine's infertility, although she remained Empress.

Anyway, the inside of the chateau was decked out as it was at the time of Josephine. There were lots of grand paintings, intricate timepieces, and fancy chairs. Absent was any kitchen or obvious servant's quarters, but apparently they were in other buildings in the grounds which have since been destroyed.

One of the receiving rooms inside the chateau.

There was a lot of Napoleon-themed pieces around, including the original version of the famous painting Napoleon Crosses the Alps, which depicts (in grand heroic style) Napoleon heading from France into Italy in 1800. Not pictured: his army!

Napoleon Crosses the Alps!

After we'd seen around the chateau, we hopped back on a bus and then a train and made our way home. It was a lovely trip outside of Paris for the day, and we're going to try to do more day trips like this as our move to Hawai'i gets closer and closer! As I looking back on the pictures from the chateau, it all looks a little drab and grey in comparison to the weather we've had here in the last week or so. It appears that we did a good job of welcoming in the spring!

Le printemps est arrivé

Spring is finally here! The weather has turned around, and after a few driech weeks of grey rain, it's sunny and warm. It's about 20C (68F) today, and this weekend it's supposed to get up to 25C (77F). That's summer weather as far as I'm concerned!

A view of the Seine from the Pont de Bercy. In the distance you can see the Pont Charles-de-Gaulle, beyond that the Viaduc d'Austerlitz (with a métro train on it), and behind that you can just make out the piers (the parts that descend into the water). of the Pont d'Austerlitz. There's a Wikipedia article on Paris bridges if you want to know more.

Nice weather means that the Parisians want to go out to enjoy it. Things get pretty busy!

The crowds at the Jardin de Luxembourg. In the distance is the Église Saint-Sulpice.

Last Sunday was May Day, which is a national holiday in France, although it was a Sunday so people were off work anyway. Talia and I decided to take a trip to the Parc de Sceaux. This is a large garden in the suburb of Sceaux (pronounced "so"), formerly the grounds of a stately home (and historically a castle). It's about 30 minutes by commuter train from the centre of Paris. The park was busy, but nowhere near as busy as anywhere in Paris!

There's a huge "canal" through the centre of the park.

And some really beautiful water features.

Us! I'm struggling to keep my eyes open in the sun. See the beautifully-tended gardens behind us!

The old country mansion at the centre of the park has a museum inside, but being a Sunday (and a public holiday), it was of course closed. No matter, as it was absolutely delightful being outside and strolling around in the sun with a gentle breeze blowing. I hope you're enjoying the weather wherever you're reading this from.

New Zealand-inspired writing

The calm and peaceful atmosphere I found in New Zealand made it easy for me to write, something that I've always enjoyed doing but have put off for many years because my life felt too harried and busy. So it was wonderful to be surrounded by nature with my notebook in hand, being able to examine my thoughts and reflect on the world and my experiences therein. Below are two short products of my time spent in parks in Christchurch. 

Not your average university park

I'm sitting on a tree-shaded bench, staring at a barely moving, bog-like stream. The warm sun is streaking through the leaves, but its heat is tempered by a mild spring breeze. Bird song swirls around me like surround sound, and in the not-too-far-off distance, I can hear cars and construction equipment. In front of me are huge globe-like ground plants that look like Albert Einstein's hair with static electricity running through it. On the other side of the stream, bright green dinosaur-sized kale-shaped leaves hang on thick stalks over the water. Fern trees and pale pink rhododendrons round out the menagerie of unfamiliar plants. Apart from the blackbird hopping about inquisitively near the water, I am entirely, gloriously alone.

If I could block out the sounds of the construction crews, it would be easy to forget that I am on a university campus. In fact, I would surely be unaware that I am in the most populous city on New Zealand's south island. Rather, I would be quickly convinced that I had stumbled upon my own peculiar, quasi-tropical island, and I would feel as though the rest of the world never existed. New Zealand does that. It has a way of kindly but dramatically introducing you to the glories of God's earth and persuading you that none of your petty concerns really matter. Even with all the madness in the world today, I find an unflappable sense of calm and contentment here. The world keeps turning.

Roses were out in full bloom. I made a point to stop and smell them frequently. They were divine.

This side of the earth
I'm sitting on a park bench in Christchurch
feeling the sun and the warm spring breeze.
I'm surrounded by birdsong and roses
and the leaves that are dancing on trees.

How incredibly lucky I must be
to experience two springs in one year,
when back in my hometown of Paris
a cold gray winter is near.

But it's not just the seasons that changed
when I came to this side of the earth.
A calm and serenity found me,
helped my soul to a joyous rebirth.

Not so for the people of Paris right now
whose grief and anger are clear
at the act of hatred and violence
that sowed seeds of terror and fear.

I admit I'm relieved to be sitting here,
to feel safe and protected and free,
but I ache for my friends in the city
who don't have such a luxury.

Yet the news shows us flowers and candles,
Parisians lending each other a hand.
Fighting violence with love and compassion
and showing kindness to their fellow man.

Quelle surprise! I quietly think to myself
as Paris is known for being rigid and cold.
When people don't smile or even look at you,
treating strangers with love is quite bold.

But that's the norm in New Zealand it seems.
Here they're generous and friendly and kind.
Being surrounded by nature will do that to you,
clear your spirit, your heart, and your mind,

So with a clean slate I'll go back to Paris,
which has changed in both bad ways and good.
And I'll try to hold onto this calm I've found
when passing soldiers in my neighborhood.

I hope we will help and support one another
to rebuild and find peace once more,
since it's unity that will heal the world's ills:
At last a cause worth fighting for.