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Review: Footprints in Paris, a Few Streets, a Few Lives by Gillian Tindall

A few months ago I blogged about Gillian Tindall and I was pleased to say that I got quite a good response. While not strictly being a travel writer, Tindall is one of the best ’sense of place’ writers there is at the moment. I mentioned that I was eagerly awaiting Tindall’s next book on Paris. Well, I’ve now read it and I wasn’t disappointed.

This book focuses on the history of the Latin Quarter and on the people who have lived and worked there. The style here is similar to that of Celestine, a history informed by a particularly human story.

‘Footprints’ was set off by the discovery of a long ago relative who had lived, work and studied in Paris. This chance discovery caught the attention of Tindall who, herself, spent a couple of long stretches in Paris during her teens and twenties.

The relative in question was a young Irish Doctor who travelled from Edinburgh to Paris, in the years immediately following the end of the Napoleonic Wars, to work in what were then the leading hospitals in the world. Dr. Jacob eventually became a major figure in the Dublin medical world and there is an archive to his work in that city. But Tindall was fascinated by the life he would have lead in Paris.

Not much exists by way of a record of Jacob’s life in Paris but that hardly stops Tindall. Her technique is to throw herself in the area she is studying. She researches the world of the left bank and draws on contemporary accounts of life there to reconstruct the kind of life that Jacob would have had in Paris.

This is fine stuff that anyone with an interest in Paris will love. There is something really magical in concentrating on such a small, defined, area. The book’s maps are particularly fascinating as you are able to place the ‘action’ in a modern day context if you know the area well. Some of the places here still exist today and still retain something of the flavour of their ancient character.

Having made this one discovery Tindall then made others. Family connections grew through medicine into the world of medical publishing, the family retaining links with the same Parisian publishers for a number of generations. She un-earths a series of previously unknown relatives who would have — or did — stay in the same area in Paris. All of these characters lived and worked in the Latin Quarter Tindall uses this story to describe the changing nature of the city of the Left Bank in particular.

The family includes a self made business man who graduated from working on the coach routes of SE England and his son who sought refuge in Paris from a strict family but who’s life in Paris didn’t quite live up to a similar stint in Germany.

As Tindall works away on these histories more discoveries are made, the best of whom is her Aunt Maud. Maud was an English spinster who seems to have developed an alternative and less restrictive life in Paris. As we get nearer modern day there is more source material to be worked on but still figures like Maud remain something of an enigma. Maud probably worked as a nurse during the First World War. Tindall, again used contemporary data to recollect the kind of life that Maud would have led in Paris during that time.

And then there is Tindall herself, growing up with her mother who always promised her that one day they would both go to Paris as she had herself when she was young. Tindall’s mother was pretty mush estranged from much of the family and the young Gillian and no knowledge at all of these long standing Parisian connections.

The story is in no way contrived. One discovery leads to another and Tindall is quite amazed that her own love of Paris was part of such a long line of connections with that city.

The majority of the stories here are of young people and could also be seen as ‘rite of passage’ pieces. It may seem odd to write a history of the Latin Quarter in such personal terms but there’s no doubt that the stories of these English young people brings alive the history in a thoroughly riveting way.

Tindall must be now in her lid to late seventies but is writing at the top of her game. In Celestine she ended up giving the local community of a small town back their history. To a great extent she has done the same with the Latin Quarter.

If you know this area you will love this book. If you’ve ever walked from Notre Dame through to the Luxembourg Gardens then you’ll appreciate the richness of the history and the narrative here. If you’ve not visited these parts yet, read this book and I guarantee that you will!

Myself, I can’t wait to get back to the Latin Quarter and to take this book with me. Gillian Tindall has the very rare gift of bringing places — and people — back to life. She is a very special writer.

posted by andy on 06.29.09 @ 2:09 pm | 0 Comments

Glorious England

On the idle hill of summer,
Sleepy with the flow of streams,

A.E. Housman

There’s no doubt about it, the English Countryside is looking glorious at the moment. I was grateful for this weekend’s trip to the Cairngorms had to be cancelled but I did manage to get out overnight for one glorious walk in Shropshire.

Warm air, sunshine and rain have all combined to make this the most lush, verdant and vibrant summer than I can remember in years. I walked on along country lanes shaded by the canopies of aged, spendid, trees and through secretive paths, hidden from view by hedgerows ripe with summer blooms. Streams and rivulets sparkled in the late afternoon sun. I set up camp just before evening storms but the bouncing of rain on fabric seemed the perfect soundtrack against which to finish the novel that was stashed in the pack. It was a gentler rain that fell during the night, the kind of rain that soothes the soul and lulls the camper off to sleep.

An early morning stroll across high moors was just as splendid. Others had not yet risen for the day. The views were long and the vistas wide, seen through the shimmering haze so characteristic of the English summer. The moorland was alive with fresh, green, foilage and the air filled with a happy chorus of bird song.

Mid morning found me at the high point of my walk. I set up my shelter to dry in the now fierce sun. It was still too early for the first ramblers to have reached my spot from the car parks below but I chatted to a local mountain biker out to shake away the cobwebs of the weekend. Had I camped at this point? He’d always wanted to. We discussed bivy spots, lower down in secluded valleys. I have bivyed here once, many years ago. Water had to be carried up from below but I was rewarded for the effort by a stunning sunset descending in the general direction of Ofar’s Dyke. My companion and I reckoned that this summer might just be the time to revisit a night here in a bivy.

I had wondered about a mammoth walk, joining together all of the high points here in a kind of giant circle. But the day began to get busier and company put me in a more mellow frame of mind. Suddenly it seemed preferable to amble down to a quiet village and to sit in the pub garden with a pint of fine ale and a Sunday newspaper.

The pub is in a fine location. Familes with small children had made their way from the campsite up the road. The play of the children was a charming and as carefree as the birdsong on the moor.

I doubt that there was a better place than this — and a better time to be there. But the newspaper spoke of other places, of strife, struggle and war; of soldiers dying in far off lands. I recalled Housman’s poem. I imagine him sitting in a place like this on a day like this, delighting in the wonder of a Shropshire summer’s day but dwelling on the horrors of places far away.

On the idle hill of summer,
Sleepy with the flow of streams,
Far I hear the steady drummer
Drumming like a noise in dreams.
Far and near and low and louder
On the roads of earth go by,
Dear to friends and food for powder,
Soldiers marching, all to die.

East and west on fields forgotten
Bleach the bones of comrades slain,
Lovely lads and dead and rotten;
None that go return again.
Far the calling bugles hollo,
High the screaming fife replies,
Gay the files of scarlet follow:
Woman bore me, I will rise.

A.E. Housman (1859-1936)

posted by andy on 06.29.09 @ 8:25 am | 7 Comments

Podcast Edits Finally Out of the Way

What a relief, I’ve finally managed to finish the edits for this year’s TGO podcast interviews. Cartwright will be relieved as he can now get on a finish the final edits.

Listening to these pieces they’re better than I thought they would be although the daily entries are a bit samey. There’s a bit of a gap during the middle section when I was feeling grotty, but some good interviews as well.

For all of you Ibbo fans out there we have a whopping 20 minutes chat about ultra lightweight gear and Rob Hausam from the States joins in as well.

There are also some interviews with ‘new’ lightweight characters. Phil Turner comes over well and Jon Hancock talks sensibly choosing kit that is both lightweight and affordable.

Now back to the diary. I’ve now almost finished the proof reading — I just hope you folks don’t find it as boring as I do!

posted by andy on 06.25.09 @ 9:20 am | 4 Comments

Northern Meet Anyone?

John Manning’s (typical) last minute entry to the mammoth Lightweight thread has prompted me to do something I’ve been meaning to do for ages.

John is involved in co-ordinating a whole series of walking activities for the Walkers are Welcome Weekend in Hebden Bridge, which is to be held on the 12th and 13th of September. John is doing a talk on the 12th (about 5.45 pm) on his Pacific Crest Trail Walk.

I’ve friends in Hebden Bridge and this seems like a good excuse to go and see them. I wondered whether anyone else was up for a trip to Calderdale? We can support John, have a few drinks and maybe even have a little stroll around the hills.

I’ve attached a copy of the PDF/flyer for the festival

WaW WeekendLeaflet.pdf

posted by andy on 06.23.09 @ 12:45 pm | 6 Comments

The Truth is Out There: The Phantom Lives …

Just to cheer Shirl up.

It has been suggested in these pages that the phantom backpacker was nothing else other than a stash of grain for grouse. Such cynics.

I notice though that the photo of the Phantom on my Flickr site has been looked at more than twice as often as any other photo from this year’s Challenge — and that’s including the snaps of Colin’s tarps.

Shirl, I reckon there are other believers out there.

Here, once again, is the phantom, HUMP3 says that ghouls don’t do lunch. Perhaps, he was just tightening the laces on his trail shoes …

The Phantom Backpacker

posted by andy on 06.18.09 @ 9:03 am | 6 Comments

Thinking About Your Will?

I see (thanks to Darren) that the latest fuss in the outdoor world is about the proposed closure of the Rambler’s Association offices in Scotland.

I don’t mean to get involved in this as there will be people who know far more about it than me but even the Ramblers will be having a hard time in this current economic climate.

According to the Ramblers they’re suffering from a kind of double whammy, a drop in membership and a drop in bequests.

This kind of prompts me to rejoin but it has also made me think about wills. A generation or two ago it was quite usual for people to make bequests in their wills. In this way many outdoor charities benefited greatly, indeed, for many independent charities bequests have always been an important part of heir income.

If I fall off a mountain anytime soon I’m afraid the Ramblers can’t expect to gain much from me. But if there are any of you out there that have a bob or two, well, you might want to think about it!

posted by andy on 06.17.09 @ 12:58 pm | 4 Comments

The Phantom Backpacker

The big, wide, open spaces can always get to you. But on several occasions this year — especially over the Monalidth — we encountered a phantom backpacker. We’d see the backpacker, get closer, and then find they’d disappeared.

Bearing in mind Shirley was looking for ghosts and ghouls we wondered whether this was due to her physic sensitivities (something that neither I not Colin suffer from).

Here is the only picture I got when we seemed to see the phantom having a lunch break. There was a suggestion that this could be Humphrey, king of the Monalidth, but he didn’t go that way this year.

The Phantom Backpacker

We saw the phantom again on a few occasions. I’m sure Shirl will elaborate.

posted by andy on 06.12.09 @ 3:25 pm | 7 Comments

More Challenge Photos

You can see some more of my photos (proof of progress with the journal) in this Flickr set.

posted by andy on 06.11.09 @ 4:32 pm | 5 Comments

Braemar Blog

I’ve had a quick message from Andrew Braidwood who is a member of the legendary Braemar band Bingo Wings.

Andrew may also be well known as he proprietor of the Braemar Gallery. The gallery has its own website which includes Andrew’s blog and photos of local walks. Worth a look and a subscription to his RSS feed I reckon.

The Braemar Gallery
Blog

posted by andy on 06.11.09 @ 9:02 am | 0 Comments

Challenge People II

Ready for the Off!
Ready for the Off! Kate Foley, Liz and Tom Forest, Koos Schekkevis.

Peewiglet and Mr Grumpy
Shirley Worrall and Mr Grumpy (aka Pete Goddard)

Daredevil Shirl
Shirley the daredevil crosses a wire bridge

Phil Turner and Peter Molenaar (seen through a raindrop)
Phil Turner and Peter Molenaar (seen through a raindrop)

??? with Jonathan Smith on right
Bob Tucker on the left and Jonathan Smith on right: crossing Loch Ness

Assault on the Monaliadth
Assault on the Monaliadth: left to right: Ali Ashton, Sue Oxley, Colin Ibbotson, Phil Turner, Shirley Worrall and Kate Foley

The Kitchen Table at Tarfside
Tarfside: around the kitchen table

Russ Manion and Humphrey Weightman
Russ Manion and Humphrey Weightman sharing a crafty fag to celebrate the finish!

Bernie and Paulie Marshall
Bernie “Super Legend” Marshall and Pauline Marshall

Joke and Jeff Cracknell
Joke and Jeff Cracknell: it’s not that bad Jeff!

Stan, or Bill?
Stan or Bill from Callater Lodge — I can never remember which is which

Cameron MacNeish and Russ Manion
Cameron MacNeish and Russ Manion

Ursula Woodhouse and Russ Manion
Ursula Woodhouse and that man Manion again

John "The Squire" Dodwell and Sall Dodwell
John “Squire” Dodwell and the long suffering Sally Dodwell

Cameron Macneish and Peter Goodwin
Cameron MacNeish and Peter Goodwin

Barbara Johnson and Cameron MacNeish
Barbara Johnson and Cameron MacNeish

Nick Roggen
Nick Roggen

Jon Hancock, Judith Barnes and ???
Jon Hancock, Judith Barnes and ???

Lio Lil
Lilo Lil (don’t ask) — I think this one is just about OK before the watershed!

Leaving Montrose
The Challenge goes home

Chris Townsend
Chris Townsend

You can tell there’s something special about this event. Notice how happy everyone is!

posted by andy on 06.11.09 @ 8:42 am | 6 Comments

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