This morning, not long after Rebecca headed out to work, Thora and I decided to take out the recycling. The bins for everything but glass are in our courtyard. I like the way someone tried to make them less of an eyesore by planting vines, trees, plants around the space for the bins.
You can see that one of the bin lids is deformed. Either someone unknowingly put something very hot in or purposely set fire to the bin. This happened before Josiah and Rebecca moved in so there is no interesting story to tell about the Great Recycling Bin Fire.
Thora and I deposited our recycling and then headed off for the glass recycle bin up on boulevard Arago. It was a gorgeous day in Paris. Sunny and warm. But not too hot because the chestnut trees gave us shade.
About 2 blocks up Arago we came to the glass recycling bin. You'll see them all over Paris on the sidewalks.
Once the glass had been disposed of, we headed another block up the street to rue de la Sante which leads to the hospital, Hopital Cochin, where Thora was born. The hospital is within easy walking distance of our apartment.
The walk along rue de la Sante is not very beautiful, but up ahead there is a lovely dome that rises above the trees. We think it may be part of a private hospital.
I turned right when we reached boulevard de Port-Royal and started toward home. Port-Royal is a very wide tree-lined street. We passed a gas station that is very different from those in the US. The gas pumps are literally on the curb and the cars pull up right in the lane of traffic to fill their cars. I was surprised to see that the cars did not pull out of the traffic to buy their gas. In the picture with the red car you can see the gas station with the pumps on the sidewalk next to the curb.
On Port-Royal we passed a fire station all decorated for Bastille Day.
We turned right again onto rue de la Glaciere where I admired these wrought iron balconies. So far I have found that even the not so picturesque streets often have lovely balconies above the street level, many with bright window boxes.
Now to head home, we turned left onto rue Saint-Hippelyte. I love the name of this street because of its connection to ancient Greek mythology.
At the intersection of Hippelyte and Broca is a branch of the Sorbonne. We call it the "ghetto Sorbonne" for obvious reasons. I thought it was an abandoned building, but Josiah says he's seen people coming and going.
The recycling walk was nearly over. We turned left on Broca and in a few steps were home again in time for a short nap before momma came home for lunch.
PS. It may look from these pictures that we live in a bad part of town. Don't worry-we don't. In our immediate neighborhood we have old, new, charming, and uninteresting buildings because this is a big and growing city.
