Tightest Security Ever Seen For Heritage Days In Paris

September is one of my favourite months in Paris, in part because of les Journées du Patrimoine, or Heritage Days.  Yesterday was the tightest security ever seen for a historical visit: sadly needed but very much welcomed!

One weekend out of the year, all of over France, historical monuments, governmental buildings, châteaux and all sorts of magnificent  gems, some rarely open to the public, such as hidden gardens, convents, archeological digs, artistic treasures, etc, open their doors for free.

I generally head to the places that are only open exceptionally for the event, rather than those you can pay to get in anytime.

Yesterday, the lovely palatial headquarters of the Ministère de L’Agriculture opened their gates and garden on Rue Varenne in the 7th arrondissement of Paris.

Rue Varenne is richly dotted with gorgeous mansions, called hôtels, mostly built in the early 1700’s.

These beautiful houses were constructed for the wealthy Parisians of the time.  The word hôtel in French can refer to a urban luxurious mansion, as well as a place to house vacationers.

Some have become governmental headquarters such as Hôtel Matignon, the Prime Minister’s home and the Hotel de Villeroy, now the agricultural headquarters of France.

This lovely dwelling and gardens was built for a Swiss banker and his actress girlfriend.  They only lived in it for around two years before the banker went bankrupt and it was eventually sold to the Duke of Villeroy.

Others were turned in museums, like the Rodin Musée, which has its entry on Rue Varenne, or have become embassies.  Walking down the street, you would never know  all of this beauty exists as they are  hidden behind tall walls along narrow sidewalks.

As soon as I turned the corner after exiting metro Varenne, I saw the long line of people waiting to get into the Musée Rodin and noticed there was practically any traffic.

That was because there was a barrage of police cars and wagons further down blocking off the street, to prevent car bombers through.  The lines were long on both sides, one to Matignon and the other to where I was going, with policeman milling around.

Midway through the line, a guard started checking purses and belongings and as I neared the entrance, there was another guard check, but that wasn’t all.  Before I could enter, I was hand scanned to be cleared, as if for a flight!

A military band was playing to greet us all, and on each side of the courtyard were little booths hawking  a few of the glories of French agriculture.

I thought they probably must have had some difficulties getting producers to display, as the agriculture minister is not very popular at all, given all the strikes and manifestations of angry farmers, except those in the  wine and beer industries.

I did not bother with any wine tastings, as I had no intention of buying any wines there, especially in light of all the wine fairs going along now.

Instead, I opted to taste a free cup of figs in mascarpone offered, topped with a bulb  of berry juice.

They were also passing out some cheese samples, but noticed some were refusing as it was Maroille, which can claim as being one of the most odorous of French cheeses

. Produced in northern France close to the Belgium border, since the 7 century,  it is made of cow’s milk with a smelly orange crust.

Beyond the expected unpleasant smell, I found the insides buttery and nutty, as a good Maroille should be.

Inside the mansion, now turned in part into offices, the chandeliers and some tapestries were magnificent as well as the stunning gilded wrought iron staircase.

The reception and dinning rooms were likewise beautiful.  The plates used were Sevres porcelain representing different regions of France, an appropriate reminder that each region is famous for various delicious specialities.

Outside in the lovely gardens were a gaggle of geese, surely foie gras geese being herded by one of the shepard dogs, who proudly displayed his expertise in rounding up his charges.

Bordering along the walkways were various vegetable plants, all in pristine condition.

There was only one display to promote the renown regional chickens of France.  The famous Coucou de Rennes from Brittany, who some consider an equal or better than Bresse chickens, were out , with an unidentified pretty white one quietly allowing constant petting from  kids.

The only other live animals in the gardens were a Gascon Noir mamma pig and her piglets, all sunk in the hay taking a Sunday snooze.

The gardens have their own beehives and were offering samples of the honey inside.  I pondered if some of their bees, along with those of Luxembourg gardens, which is much closer, like to frequent my own flowers and fruit.

After leaving, I turned on Rue Bourgogne, heading north towards the Seine and the National Assembly. The street and Square in back were all blocked off as well, again with many policeman behind barriers.

Even though it was only a little before 4:30, and it was said to be open till 6:30, I was told it was too late to made it inside, given the long line and as consequence of security measures and screenings.

Disappointed, I tried to find another place nearby to visit, but figured the same fate would happen, by the time I presented myself to the gates.

Frankly, I felt lucky that I have been able to see a lot of these wonderful treasures in the past and that officials did not cancel the whole event in light of today’s constant risk of terrorism.

Instead, I was pleased to see so much security today in an effort to protect the public, though it meant less offerings and planning on earlier visits.

Parisians no longer have the freedom  to carelessly stroll about anymore, without being mindful of their surroundings and vigilant of others or any suspicious activity. The world has changed and we are all living in difficult times, where violence can erupt regardless of where we live.

I refuse to be a fear monger, yet I am more mindful and observant than before as I walk along the sidewalks or in public transport.

Europe has been through worse times of famine, epidemics, wars and occupation.  I wonder how people dealt with the lurking dangers of those times and if they were more guarded than city folks today.

I can imagine that they, like the rest of us tried to live their lives as normally as they could, despite their fears.   Life is fragile and we all need to be grateful for our lives each day!