Pomme de Pain café, Gare St Roch - 230pm
Trip Start
Sep 24, 2010
1
13
19
Trip End
Oct 06, 2010
Waiting for the train to Paris, I am on the terrace, which is in the parapet of the old station building.
There's a crumbling stone wall between the seats and the road/tramway junction down below. There’s a pigeon parading up and down, touting for donations. Across the road are the old grand tall apartment buildings with balconies – some with stone balustrades, others with ornate swirly ironwork. The building on the corner is labelled "Grand Hôtel Prince" although there’s no evidence of a hotel being there today. Just the “Brasserie de la Gare” on the street level.
I can hear knocking and tapping, against a cement mixer churning. The men below are installing tramlines.
The pigeon’s coming past now, bobbing its head back and forth. And back it goes. It’s pecking at a tray on a table now. Around the wrappers, under the edge, opening and closing its beak as it dives in and out.
The sun is breaking through a cloudy sky and although the sun is not at full brightness, the air is only comfortable when a breeze picks up.
Trams’ bells go ding as pedestrians are warned of their approach.
People around me here, are reading, looking at mobiles, eating or sitting doing nothing. Wheeled suitcases trundle back and forth over the decking as people come and go.
Watching the building works below – the metal tracks are in place and now the workmen are laying arcs of paving stones rainbow-fashion, across the area. With tramlines intersecting there are a lot of little areas to fill with the stones. It looks very fiddly. It could be worse – they could be doing a mosaic.
There's a crumbling stone wall between the seats and the road/tramway junction down below. There’s a pigeon parading up and down, touting for donations. Across the road are the old grand tall apartment buildings with balconies – some with stone balustrades, others with ornate swirly ironwork. The building on the corner is labelled "Grand Hôtel Prince" although there’s no evidence of a hotel being there today. Just the “Brasserie de la Gare” on the street level.
I can hear knocking and tapping, against a cement mixer churning. The men below are installing tramlines.
The pigeon’s coming past now, bobbing its head back and forth. And back it goes. It’s pecking at a tray on a table now. Around the wrappers, under the edge, opening and closing its beak as it dives in and out.
The sun is breaking through a cloudy sky and although the sun is not at full brightness, the air is only comfortable when a breeze picks up.
Trams’ bells go ding as pedestrians are warned of their approach.
People around me here, are reading, looking at mobiles, eating or sitting doing nothing. Wheeled suitcases trundle back and forth over the decking as people come and go.
Watching the building works below – the metal tracks are in place and now the workmen are laying arcs of paving stones rainbow-fashion, across the area. With tramlines intersecting there are a lot of little areas to fill with the stones. It looks very fiddly. It could be worse – they could be doing a mosaic.


