Le Parisien reports that the French are buying fewer yoghurts, luxury chocolate bars and lignettes, those disgusting use-it-once-and-throw-it-away wipes. There’s a new magazine for comsum’acteurs* called Tips, selling at the introductory price of 0.9 Euros and containing coupons to clip as well as, of course, tips: the French are enjoying their crise.
I eat, un-crise-ingly, at Mamashelter Restaurant, where I'm staying, in hipster Belleville. In the lobby, French women air-kiss making an inward suck of air sounding like a crackle of electric static. The hotel sells La Crise m'a volé mes Pépitos (The Credit Crunch stole my comic books?) kids’ T-shirts. Naturally they cost 35 Euros. We smoke on the restaurant's external terrace overhanging the railway lines. Later, we miss something across the street at ex-railway station club, La Flèche d’Or.
From the terasse in the spring dusk, I can see the Belleville skyline. Someone (perhaps planning a crise-time mariage?) has set a mini-marquee on a roofgarden. A minute bus called la traverse de charonne, about the size of a people carrier, turns a corner by the Casque d'Or historical sign. I've seen these buses in Montmartre, where they wind through the tiny streets unserved by other public transport, but never in Belleville. I guess it's here for the same reason.
Next morning, I leave the expensive candy in the hotel lobby to look for a café. I glance into the hotel restaurant and see the banks of breakfast lying unattended. Hotel breakfasts always a) too expensive, b) too filling, and c) too depressing. The sadness of Hotel life is particularly apparent at in daylight. I just had to look once at the glum American family who were the only people eating to leave. Too much food plus too few people is always a depressing equation. Gimme a destination populaire...
I find a local café, l’Abribus* on rue de Bagnolet, which I immedately adopt as my temporary café de coin. They play 60s Rolling Stones at 9am. Cool. "Non, Madamoiselle." says the waiter - note the '-oiselle': must be my new leather jacket - "Nous n'avons plus des croissants".
So no croissants: so much money saved. I order a crise crème. Possibly the cheapest crème I've ever ordered in Paris. At least in a bar I'd like to sit in.
comsum’acteurs* - consumer activists. I found this in the Parisien. Has anyone heard it elsewhere or did they coin it?
L'Abribus - the bus shelter.
Pepitos are chocolate biscuits for kids I think, but why the crise stole them is anyone's guess.
Posted by: Adam | May 14, 2009 at 01:11 PM
I could only think of the comic book guy. Is he named after the biscuits or are they named after him..?
Posted by: badaude | May 14, 2009 at 01:47 PM
I don't know the comic book guy, but it looks like the biscuit boy has his own website!
http://www.pepito.fr/
Posted by: Adam | May 14, 2009 at 03:29 PM
Adam is right, in this context, "Pepito" would definitely refer to the biscuits. As far as I know, there is no relationship to the comic book - I was born and raised in France and was not even aware that there was a character named Pepito.
I hear that these T-shirts are all the rage in Paris at the moment - other slogans include "The credit crunch and I are friends on Facebook" and "Have you seen the credit crunch recently? It's put on a tonne of weight!"
I guess that is what the French call "Mieux vaut en rire qu'en pleurer"... (better to laugh than cry about it)
Posted by: Emmanuelle | May 14, 2009 at 09:33 PM
duh. I had no idea what they were. I guess I should just eat more biscuits...
Posted by: badaude | May 15, 2009 at 09:37 AM