Evening star., 1960-06-26
GET UP AND GO!
French Take q HOLIDAY
By JACK JONAS
Star Travel Editor

SlaE 4IaNel EDITOR
We had abandoned the Paris
taxis, as any sane man is likely
to do after a few rides, to take
the subway to the Museum of
Old Montmartre.
For our money-eight cents
each time you go underground
the Paris Metro is the worlds
most convenient mass trans
portation system.
The stations are clean, well
lighted and well marked. There
is no need to squint anxiously
each time you arrive at a sta
tion-large signs spaced each
few feet tell you very efficiently
where you are.
And, for the convenience of
bumbling tourists such as we.
some Of the stations have elec-
trio maps. When you push a
button beside your final desti-
nation, the map lights up like
a pinball machine showing you
which line to take, where to
transfer if necessary, and where
to get of.
While we were there, a little
spice was added by the fact
that you never were sure the
subway train was going to come
along. A series of strikes had
been harrassing individual lines
never the entire system. Who
was being harrasSed and why
did not become clear to us.
Lost Museum
We never did find the Mu-
scum of Old Montmartre, but
it was not the fault of the
subway.
We got off, as instructed by
our little electric map, at the
Lamarck station and began to
toll upward.
Climbing, up steps and steep
narrow streets, is a necessary
sport in Montmartre. Ahead of
us, standing out in the bright
sunshine like a Utrillo painting.
was the dome of Sacre Occur,
high above all of Paris.
This is the section of the
artists, and they were busy all
along the narrow streets, OBJ
livious to the stares of the
visitors.
At the top, in the Place du
Tertre, around the corner from
Sacre Occur, we ran smack
into the French on holiday, en-
joying their Paris. This was a
three-day religious holiday.
And, even as back home, the
Paris newspapers were dis
cussing the holiday traffic
death toll.
The square was as full Of
people as Port au Prince on ,
market day. II
A band in the center of the ,
square played a desultory, in ;
harmonious concert, in COM I
petition with the not-too-
rhythmic click of coffee cups
and glasses.
DOnkeyS, Monkeys
A donkey, bearing placardS /;
advertising a wax museum,
roamed back and forth under '
the guidance of a man in dress
reminiscent of that of circus
barker. {
We saw the living image of
this years French Government
Tourist Office advertisement ]
a small boy with a wide grin s
clutching several of those long,
unwrapped loaves of French
bread.
Our vantage point was a
sidewalk cafe on the shady
side. Across the street, in an
other sidewalk cafe, a bearded
gentleman slipped his aperitif
while a black and white mon
key sat patiently on his lap.
At another table, similarly en-
gagged, was a woman with a
brilliantly plumed parrot
perched on one shoulder. !
Dogs - boxers, poodles and
dachshunds, in that order
were everything, but always On
leash.
When we tired of the me-
nagerie, we followed the lead of
the French tourists and en- ]
tered a small delicatessen just
off the square. There we bought
a large and tasty sandwich, a
healthy slice of cheese, and a
small bottle of red wine-total
cost, IS cents.
We took our meal into a
small park nearby, and sat on I
a bench enjoying a broad view
of Paris far below.
AS we said, we missed the
Museum of Old Montmartre.
But the museum of new Mont
martre" seemed more interest 7
ing.
Try it sometime.