When future historians of architecture look back to the twentieth and twenty-first centuries, what will they think? What will they see? Buildings of substance and beauty? Or a mash of inconsistent, uncoordinated plans and designs?
Of course, the answer to that question presupposes that many of these buildings will still be standing. Unlike their predecessors that have proven to stand the test of time.
Yesterday’s bus, plus tram trip is a no can do. No buses on Sunday. We either pay €21.60 to Bolt, or leg it. We leg it. 2K. Jump on tram 15 again. A morning stroll plus €3.60. We’re quids in.
Today’s first stop on our walking tour list is the forty-three metre high Monument aux Girodins. Situated at one end of Place des Quinconces, one of the largest squares in Europe. [currently occupied by a massive ferris wheel and its accompanying fairground attractions]
We edge closer towards le centre ville and ouir next ‘tick’. Very few cars. The pace is calm. Quiet. Mainly pedestrianised. Trams rule. It feels civilised. Maybe because it’s Sunday. People always behave better on a Sunday, don’t they?
We’re on a roll. So we roll on to La Place de la Bourse with its Miroir d’Eau. A modern feature that keeps the granite slabs watered and misted from April to October.
It’s impossible to visit a city without checking out its cathedral. Walking towards it, a queue comes into view. Three or four deep. Is there a show on? An upcoming concert maybe, needing tickets? It rounds the corner. So do we. They’re patiently waiting to get into the three storey Restaurant L’Entrecote. An extraordinary ‘steak and chips’ rendezvous.
We’re not anywhere near Paris. No sign of a beret. Or string of onions. But France isn’t France without the sound of an accordion – though we’ve not heard it played quite in this jazz-funk way before.