I peered outside our apartment window and saw a thick cluster of clouds smothering a blue sky.
Today could be the day.
I recently decided that it was morally deplorable to live in Paris for six months and not have a picture of the Eiffel Tower at sunset. At 3:30pm, I packed up my camera and tripod and headed for the Trocadero metro stop. Located on the other side of the Seine, this location features two imposing buildings that form the sites on top of an old rifle, perfectly framing the Eiffel Tower at the end of the barrel.
I was set up by 4:20pm. Unfortunately, the anticipated sunset colors never materialized, but despite that and freezing temperatures, it was still worth my time.
The Eiffel Tower is arguably the most iconic landmark in the world and, surprisingly, it was widely derided after it was built for the 1889 Exposition Universelle. The Eiffel Tower was to be dismantled in the early 20th century but a radio antenna installed by its designer Gustav Eiffel in 1909 proved too valuable to the French Army. Two and a half million rivets hold together the “iron asparagus.”
Unfortunately, my battery died and I had forgotten my spare at home. Fortunately, I already had plans to meet Kristi at l’Opera. I walked from Trocadero to Opera, received my charged battery, and moved quickly to Place de la Concorde on the Seine. I was only able to snap a couple of photos of the Eiffel Tower during its hourly light show—consisting of hundreds of pulsating flashbulbs—before it returned to its normal nocturnal state.
Turning the camera directly across the Seine, I captured a photo of Assemblée Nationale with Pont de la Concorde to the left. I especially love how the tree shadow projects over the river.
Tasting unfamiliar foods, taking wild forms of transportation, or immersing yourself in an incomprehensible language are the types of experiences that drive most to travel. Some are locked away in travel journals, others are fodder at cocktail parties, but it’s those rare experiences that challenge a persons fervent beliefs of what’s right, what’s wrong, what’s normal, and what’s just plain weird.
Like sweet mayonnaise and canned corn on pizza (Japan); like a young teenager using his finger to plug the barrel of his aging Kalashnikov assault rifle as he boards your bus (Laos); like hearing someone loudly clear their throat on an airplane, and expel the contents on the carpeted floor (China). I like to categorize such experiences as “sh*t that wouldn’t fly back home.” While they can be mystifying, or even infuriating, at moment of exposure, I’d argue that they keep the soles of our walking shoes thin and our frequent flier portfolios plump.
Here’s my first installment: Shit That Wouldn’t Fly Back Home – Paris Edition. Neither wrong, nor right—just different.
Parking
As with most densely populated metropolises, parking in Paris is at a premium. Subterranean garages exist largely for day-tripping tourists, so if residents don’t want to pay $350 a month to park the cars, they need to duke it out on the streets to find a rare vacant piece of curbside real estate. And some are forced to get creative. A Smart Car, one of the smallest vehicles on the road, can wedge its sub-nine foot chassis nearly anywhere. But what if the parking spot is even smaller than that? How about backing your car up perpendicularly to the curb and gunning it?
Sidewalks are saved from parked cars through ample use of metal pillars, which are spaced close enough to both each other and the curb to dissuade even the smallest vehicles from blocking the pedestrian thoroughfare. But this “out-of-the-box” thinker found a solution: just park on the actual sidewalk.
On a recent walk near the Eiffel Tower, I watched a new Audi park at the apex of a corner, throw on his emergency flashers, get out to admire the fact that he was effectively obstructing both crosswalks, and tucked into a local café for dinner. These brazen infarctions are startling for a Seattleite who received a $75 ticket when six inches of his bumper was hanging over a yellow curb (thank you City of Bellevue).
Dog Sh*t on Street
I’ve explored this topic in another post ad naseum (literally, I almost threw up) but this ranks high in the “shit that wouldn’t fly back home.” I am well aware that plenty of dog excrement isn’t picked up in the U.S. but few owners would have the audacity to encourage it in broad daylight, on a sidewalk, in the direct line of sight—and smell—of numerous passerby. Fines for such infarctions may be relatively light in the U.S., but public scorn is strong enough to keep such activities in dark alleys and secluded parks.
The speed with which cars approach pedestrian crosswalks
Rules for pedestrians across the planet are generally the same: wait for the little red guy on the other side to turn green. Seems simple right? Well, wait until you are in the middle of a crosswalk and a car approaches your side at 80 miles an hour. The confidence that you are in the right-of-way will crack as quickly as your fibula when it meets the bumper of a Renault. French drivers don’t appear to be crazy, but place an occupied crosswalk in front of one and they suddenly turn into Michael Schumaker approaching his pit crew. The driver, of course, will stop but not until it is very clear to all parties that he or she decided to spare your life. To save face, reduce the size of your eyes, complete your crossing, and go find a clean pair of underwear.
Dogs, Cigarette Smoke, and $75 steaks
Fortunately for the few people who don’t regularly suck cigarettes in Paris, smoking isn’t allowed inside restaurants. Outside spaces, however, are free game, even if said space is the enclosed atrium of a five star hotel. Pardon my stubbornness, but if I purchased a $75 steak prepared by a culinary artist, it’s hard for my taste buds to appreciate the harmony of ground pepper and cumin when my nose is battling the Marlboro to my left, and Virginia Slim to my right. If any smoke is to be obscuring the view of my meal, especially an expensive one, it better be hickory.
But the dog sitting in the chair next to me, he can stay. Assuming he doesn’t growl and snip at anyone that passes the table, like the little shi-tzu (pun intended) pictured below.
Visa paperworks, a gluestick, and 738 euros in stamps
The long and arduous process to obtain French work visas is worthy of its own post (perhaps its own blog) but one step struck me as particularly absurd.
Kristi was instructed by her office to go buy stamps. Not postage stamps mind, but “fiscal stamps.” The reason for purchase was unclear, but she was given instructions to buy them from a Tabac, a bar that sells cigarettes (our local tabac also functions as a off-track betting facility to equally serve all vices). Handing over 738 euros, Kristi received a small stack of stamps of varying denominations, held together with a paper clip. I’ve never been so underwhelmed with what $1000 can buy you.
Fast forward a week until we were seated in front of a French bureaucrat, one meeting away from finally receiving our cartes sejours (French ID cards) and the freedom of being able to come and go from France as we pleased (our tourist visas were about to expire). When prompted, we handed over our stamps. He flipped over a piece of paper and took out an Elmer’s glue stick—the first I’d seen since the 1st grade. With a heavy hand, he applied three vertical lines of glue and neatly placed each stamp one over the other. It took several minutes for him to create a grid with all eighteen stamps before my incredulous eyes. Once they were all neatly in place, he took his large and shiny date stamper and cancelled each stamp. The definitive, rhythmic sound … ka-chunk ka-chunk … must be auditory porn to a bureaucrat.
In the day when technology allows you to deposit a check with your phone, it’s mystifying that any payment process, let alone one as important as a visa approval process, would still require a mediocre adhesive.
Closing business for entire month
Most Parisian shops are closed in August, some for a week or two, others for the whole month. An entrepreneurial mind would realize the opportunity to stay open and steal customers from their closed competitors but this urge is either suppressed or overridden by the healthy need for time off. If you need anything from a small neighborhood store better get it in July or you’ll have to wait until September. Most Parisians take vacation during this month as well, which may or may not be related to the fact that their local bakery is closed for several weeks (Lonely Planet states that 80% of Parisians eat bread three times a day).
Requiring three months notice to fire someone
I am not experienced in any sort of labor law (let alone French) but it is commonly understood that holders of certain work permits, especially civil servants, are impossible to fire. If your employer is somehow able to circumnavigate the quagmire that is Human Relations, they can give you no less than three months notice. While three months notice is certainly more humane than making an employee pack a box on the spot and be escorted out by security, I can’t imagine that said employee would be terribly effective at their job; the term “dead man walking” comes to mind. Similarly, if an employee wants to quit, they must give three months notice, six times the standard two weeks given in the states.
Getting hit on by your doctor
The penultimate step in our visa process was a perfunctory medical checkup. The efficient process took place in a corridor lined with doors. Chairs down the middle allowed applicants to wait, facing out, for their names to be called. Kristi got called up first and, because the chairs were only a couple feet away from the doors, I could hear most of her conversation with the middle-aged, male doctor.
“Wow, you are very beautiful. Why did you come to France?” “My company moved my husband and me to Paris.” “You are married? Oh, that’s too bad…”
His tone conveyed true disappointment, but neither her marital status, nor the fact that her husband was sitting within earshot, dissuaded him from continuing to flatter my wife. After a few minutes, their time was brought to a close and he was legally obligated to call my name. For some reason, he didn’t display half of the warmth during our interaction, but thankfully he didn’t refuse to stamp my paperwork or subject me to invasive tests out of disdain. He was a sweet soft-spoken man so the situation was more comical than anything, but I couldn’t help but think which of his statements to Kristi would be more indemnifying in front of a North American review board.
Moving your dinner table to sit down at a restaurant
Space is at a premium in Paris and fashionable eateries can be as tightly packed as a box of madelines. If a North American approaches a packed café, they may be dissuaded by the possible lengthy wait. But if you are a small party of two, you may be surprised at how quickly you’re waved forward: just expect to move some furniture. When we visited the popular Entrecote restaurant (which serves all you can eat steak and fries), the maître d simply gestured us to our table, as depicted by the illustration below, and walked away.
It was physically impossible for anyone to sit down on the other side of the table, save a Russian gymnast or the little Chinese guy from Oceans 11. Used to this now, Kristi and I moved the chair and the small table into the narrow aisle, moving it back once Kristi was seated. American eateries need to have aisles of a width mandated by the ADA and no one ever expects to move more than a chair, and in nice restaurants those are moved for you.
No stars at Thai restaurant
French people don’t like spicy food. Our first indication should have been when the waitress made no mention of stars when taking our order at a well-regarded Thai restaurant in Paris. Asking for sauce piquant (spicy sauce) at our local Korean restaurant yielded a small dish of garlic-infused ketchup. Unfortunately, the bill is the only thing that makes my brow sweat when visiting any Asian restaurants in Paris.
When presented with a four-day weekend, my wife and I made the decision to travel through Belgium–a short train ride from Paris. The cool-gray architecture and graffiti of Brussels had grabbed our attention on a train trip from Amsterdam several months prior. We selected three cities to visit—Brugge, Antwerp, and Brussels—and looked for a theme to tie the three popular tourist destinations. Whether from the French South or Flemish North, the Belgians are known for their beer, chocolate, and fries. Fearing the effects of continuous blood sugar spikes over four days, we quickly decided to avoid a chocolate tour of Belgium. And who wants to eat just fries?
Beer it was, and successful we were. We tallied a total of 34 different Belgian beers over four days—from sour ales, to native IPA’s, to seven Trappist monastery brews. We even had time for some fries and a chocolate or four.
We’ve assembled a beer-watchers field guide to help readers find their own Belgian suds: including measurements for each beer; a description of where that beer naturally occurs; tips to help users identify the beer, in bottle or glass, in the field; and notes on what they should expect when their quarry reaches the lips.
I should warn readers that, like the $8 million nose of Dutch wine-maker Ilja Gort, my taste buds are insured by Lloyd’s of London, albeit for a slightly smaller amount: $3.70 (coincidentally the cost of postage to mail my policy). Consequently, readers should take our tasting notes with a pinch of hops and, if more informed descriptions are required, readers should scan the comments at www.beeradvocate.com.
Many terms used in our field guide will be familiar to birdwatchers, but the content will hopefully be of interest to a wider population (although I read in the 2010 census that “beer drinking bird nerds” are a growing demographic). Here’s a glossary to help bridge the gap.
Abundant: widely available for purchase at a variety of venues, from trains to corner stores.
Common: likely to be encountered at least once on a long night out in an urban center.
Uncommon: findable in areas with a high density of beer drinkers, though may provide a challenge.
Rare: exists but will require specialized knowledge to find.
Accidental: confirmed sightings may be sporadic, finding requires considerable luck and skill.
A diverse family of beers, the ales vary in color from golden yellow to charcoal brown, and even one with pinkish plumage. These species represent a variety of tastes. For the purpose of identification in glass, these species have been arranged in order of coloration, light to dark.
Species: Delirium Tremens Genus/Family: Brouwerij Huyghe / Pale Ale Measurements: 9% ABV, 8€* Range: Widespread and common in Belgium. Locally uncommon in other parts of the world. Status: Population strong and increasing. Field ID Marks: Opaque white bottle is diagnostic for the genus. The pink elephant—another shared attribute—is unmistakable. Description: One of the more common of the four species in the Delirium family, the Tremens will delight the tongue with sweet hops with a finish of tart raspberry.
Species: Jupiler (blond) Genus/Family: Brasserie Piedboeuf / Pale Ale Measurements: 5.2% ABV, 2€* Range: Abundant throughout Belgium, especially train stations, corner stores, and domestic sporting events. Uncommon elsewhere. Status: Stable wherever students or down-and-out populations persist. Field ID Marks: Most commonly encountered with a shiny metallic exterior. Carcasses are frequently found amongst urban detritus. Expect bold red and black coloration; black bull diagnostic for the species. Description: A light European lager. Tastes like a sour Budweiser, perhaps a good choice for those who taste buds are overwhelmed by the more flavorful options in Belgium.
Species: Cuvee des Trolls Genus/Family: Brasserie Dubuisson / Belgian Strong Ale Measurements: 7% ABV, 4€* Range: Uncommon to common in Belgium. Rare in Europe, Asia, Australia, and North America. Status: Belgian population remains stable. International populations are increasing. Field ID Marks: Unremarkable brown bottle reveals gold details at close range. A rosy-faced leap-frogging troll is diagnostic for the genus, on bottle and in glass. Description: A sip should reveal a smooth mild fruit taste, with a bit of cantaloupe.
Species: Deca Papegaei Genus/Family: Deca Brouwerij / Strong Ale Measurements: 8% ABV, 3.80€* Range: Rare in Belgium. No international records for the species. Status: Little data but population apparently stable. Field ID Marks: Look for a green bottle with a sky blue label at the base of its slender profile. Black, backward peering parrot is a helpful fieldmark for the species, on both glass and bottle. Description: This beer is smooth and positively delicious ale with a smidge of light fruit.
Species: Palm Amber Genus/Family: Brouwerij Palm NV / Pale Ale Measurements: 5.4% ABV, 3.50€* Range: Distributed widely throughout Belgium. Abundant in transportation centers, corner stores, and sporting venues. Uncommon elsewhere. Status: Steady. Field ID Marks: In both glass and aluminum plumages, green body and gold horse are diagnostic. Description: Despite its pedestrian origins (train refreshment cart) taste was surprisingly refreshing: light malt with a hint of lime and honey.
Species: La Chouffe Ardens Blond
Genus/Family: Brasserie Duvel-Moortgat / Blond Ale
Measurements: 8% ABV, 4€* Range: International—mostly European—with smaller populations in North, Central, and South America, Middle East, Asia, and Australia. Status: Common in Belgium. Uncommon to rare elsewhere, but has increased since sold to the larger Duvel Brewery in 2006. Field ID Marks: From a distance, look for a small brown bottle with a short, squat neck. If visible on bottle or glass, a red-capped elf donning a whispy white beard is diagnostic for the genus. Description: Once in hand, expect a delightfully smooth and sweet beer, with hints of apricot.
Species: Brugse Zot Blond Genus/Family: Brouwerij De Halve Maan / Blond Ale Measurements: 6% ABV, 5€* Range: Limited distribution. Locally abundant in Brugge, Belgium; uncommon to rare elsewhere. Status: Steady. De Halve Maan is the last brewery within city limites in Brugge, a popular tourist destination. Field ID Marks: In glass or bottle, a jovial jester is a reliable fieldmark for this genus. Separated by the closely-related bruin by its consistently paler complexion. Description: Taste is clean, light, and refreshingly hoppy.
Species: De Koninck Genus/Family: Brouwerij De Koninck NV / Pale Ale Measurements: 5% ABV, 5.20€* Range: Locally abundant in Antwerp (where the population was first discovered in 1827). Common across Belgium and rare internationally. Status: Population large and stable. Field ID Marks: Most frequently encountered in draught, where a relatively low and wide profile is helpful. Bold white lettering will show well against its greenish brown body. Description: Despite its abundant popularity, taste is flat and relatively tasteless.
Species: Brugse Zot Bruin Genus/Family: Brouwerij De Halve Maan / Brown Ale Measurements: 7.5% ABV, 5€* Range: Limited distribution. Locally abundant in Brugges; uncommon to rare elsewhere. Status: Steady. Population sustained by tourists seeking a taste of the only brewery in the popular destination of Brugge. Field ID Marks: A jovial jester is a reliable fieldmark for this genus, on bottle or pint glass. Look for a light brown plumage, darker than the closely-related blond, though the two should be best separated in good light or side-by-side. Description: The beer is smooth with little aftertaste. Unfortunately, this smoothness also leaves the beer a little lackluster.
Species: Kwak Amber Genus/Family: Brouwerij Bosteels / Amber Measurements: 8.1% ABV, 5.60€* Range: Uncommon to common in Belgium, rare elsewhere. Status: Small but stable population. Field ID Marks: Amber brown body with thin white head detectable from medium range. Unmistakable in intended glass, a dramatic tall hourglass with robust wooden handle. Description: This amber beer tastes almost as if it has been sweetened with a pinch of candy sugar, but overall the impression is flat and aftertaste metallic.
Species: Rodenbach Genus/Family: Palm Brewery / Red Ale Measurements: 5.2% ABV, 3€* Range: Abundant in Belgium. Uncommon elsewhere. Status: Steady population is maintained by one of the largest breweries in Belgium. Field ID Marks: In the field, look for a brown bottle with a subdued red label. Reddish brown coloration apparent in glass, which is plain in shape and unadorned. Description: Strong sour cherry smell with an acidic fruit taste, owed to being 1/4 oak-aged by volume.
Species: Ciney Bruin Genus/Family: Brouwerijen Alken-Maes / Brown Ale Measurements: 7% ABV, 2.60€* Range: Uncommon in Belgium. Rare in Europe. Scattered international records. Status: Population small by stable; sustained by one of the largest breweries in Belgium. Field ID Marks: As a distance, subtle brown label blends with color of bottle; orange horizontal demarcation may be visible in ideal conditions. Description: Despite its brown coloration, this malty species tastes like a red beer with a bit of raspberry.
Species: Delirium Nocturnum Genus/Family: Brouwerij Huyghe / Dark Ale Measurements: 8.5% ABV, 6.80€* Range: Widespread and common in Belgium. Locally uncommon to rare internationally. Status: Population strong and increasing. Field ID Marks: The specked eggshell bottle should allow most to identify this bottle to genus, even from a distance. At closer range, a large pink elephant—largest in its genus—is a helpful identification tip. Pictured is the species in draught plumage, exceedingly rare to find outside of Delirium Café in Brussels. Description: This dark beer starts slightly sour but completes smoothly with a taste of barley.
Species: Alvinne Undressed Genus/Family: Brouwerij Alvinne / Sour Ale Measurements: 6.9% ABV, 3.50€* Range: Rare in Belgium. Only a handful of records outside Belgium borders. Status: Stable. Field ID Marks: Species is difficult to identify from distance but short greenish bottle with curvaceous neck can help distinguish it from other species. Glass is tall with a long, thin stem. Dark body when poured. Description: This dark ale is a surprise to drink: flat, acrid, sour apple. Not a pleasure.
Species: DeRanke Noir de Dottignies Genus/Family: Brouwerij De Ranke / Dark Ale Measurements: 9% ABV, 3.70€* Range: Locally uncommon in Belgium. Spotty distribution throughout Europe, North America, and East Asia. Status: Stable in Belgium. Increasing elsewhere. Field ID Marks: Green bottle is a helpful identification mark in the field. Label is black, much like the complexion of the species when poured. Description: This strong dark ale with please the tongue with a hint of bitter chocolate and a smooth finish.
Family Trappidae (Trappist)
This diverse family is not grouped by color, taste or style, but by a common supervisor: Trappist monks. The populations of all of these species are from one of eight Trappist monasteries (seven in Belgium, one in The Netherlands). Trappist beers must be brewed in a Trappist monastery where any profits beyond what is needed to maintain the monastery and the clergy is donated to charity.
Species: Achel Trappist Genus/Family: Brouwerij der Sint-Benedictusabdij de Achelse Kluis / Trappidae (Trapist) Measurements: 9.5% ABV, 4.30€* Range: Uncommon to rare in Belgium. Scarce in Europe. No reported sightings outside the continent, but vagrancy is possible. Status: Stable. Field ID Marks: Bottle is brown and medium build. Tan label with a black wave at the bottom is a helpful field mark from a distance. In alternate plumage, look for a red wave and a plentiful, frothy head. Description: As for taste, expect a hint of fruit with a slightly metallic aftertaste.
Species: Westhalle Tripel Genus/Family: Westhalle Brewery, Trappidae (Trappist) Measurements: 9.5% ABV, 8€* Range: Widespread and common in Belgium. Range has expanded to other parts of the world, but remains rare. Status: Population strong and increasing. Field ID Marks: The tall brown bottle will confuse the amateur beer hunter, but the diamond-shape label is indicative, and circular red label at top diagnostic, of this respected genus. Description: In glass, expect smooth, plentiful head, taste of apricot and honey, and a smidge of bitterness in a prolonged aftertaste.
Species: Orval Trappiste Genus/Family: Brasserie d’Orval / Trappidae (Trappist) Measurements: 6.9% ABV, 4€* Range: Common in Belgium. Rare to uncommon elsewhere. Status: Population, established in 1931 to support the rebuilding of the Orval Abbey, is steady throughout its range. Field ID Marks: The plain brown bottle can be separated from similar species by a white label located low on the neck. Glass has a wide mouth but tapers quickly to its strong base. Description: The peachy hops of this brew will please the taste buds with a pinch of spiced apple.
Species: Saint Sixtus of Westvleteren (1979) Genus/Family: Brouwerij St. Bernardus NV / Trappidae (Trappist) Measurements: 7.5% ABV, 9€* Range: Locally rare. Population centered at St Sixtus Monastery in western Belgium. Species population is limited to a handful of locations in urban centers. Status: Population of genus is steady. This species is considered accidental throughout its former range with only a handful of records annually, primarily in Belgium. Field ID Marks: Look for a brown bottle with faded red label. Jovial, and likely inebriated, monk is diagnostic for the genus. Beware that species this old may wear a light grayish coat of dust for camouflage. Smooth dark brown coloration in glass with no trace of a head. Description: For those lucky few whom can get close enough for a sip, expect a syrupy texture with no carbonation. The taste of light molasses and licorice will please the tongue.
Species: La Trappe Quadrupel (2010) Genus/Family: Bierbrouwerij de Koningshoeven / Trappidae (Trappist) Measurements: 10% ABV, 3€* Range: Population centered in the Netherlands—unique for this family. Uncommon in Belgium, rare elsewhere. Status: Stable and increasing. Field ID Marks: Brown bottle is tall and slender from a distance; label is yellowish and tapers to a subtle point. Glass is wide at the top; at closer range, decorative gold writing may be distinctive against the plentiful head. Description: Taste is smooth and malty (what can I say, this is the last of multiple beers this evening).
Species: Chimay Blauw (2010) Genus/Family: Bieres de Chimay / Trappidae (Trappist) Measurements: 9% ABV, 3.80€* Range: Abundant in Belgium. Common in Europe. Uncommon worldwide. Status: Steady, population increasing internationally. Field ID Marks: Short and brown in bottle form, with a tapered—almost concave—neck. In glass, look for a wide mouth, straight sides, and bold white logo outlined in red. Description: The smooth taste is fruit neutral with a hint of chocolate.
Species: Westmalle Dubbel Genus/Family: Westmalle Abbey / Trappidae (Trappist) Measurements: 7% ABV, 3.20€* Range: Locally common in Belgium. Rare to uncommon elsewhere. Status: After being established in 1836, it took two decades before this population was discovered and quickly increased in 1921. Population remains steady throughout its range. Field ID Marks: The tall, thin profile will do little to remove this species from a mixed flock of brown bottles, but the diamond shaped label is indicative of the genus, red label diagnostic. In glass, look for a wide mouth tapering softly to a rounded bottom with a dark complexion. Description: Tasting notes for this drinkable species include molasses and subtle fruit. Worth chasing.
Family Dubbelae (Belgian Dubbel)
Typified by somewhat strong, brown beers with a note of fruitiness, this family of beer was split by taxonomists from the Trappidae family as the population grew beyond the Trappist monasteries after World War II. “Abbey” or “Abbey-style” are helpful identification marks for this family in the field.
Species: Floreffe Dubbel Genus/Family: Brasserie Lefebvre / Dubbel Measurements: 6.3% ABV, 2.60€* Range: Established in 1916, the population is based in French-speaking Belgium, but the species remains uncommon throughout the country. Limited records outside the country. Status: Small but stable. Field ID Marks: Bottle an unremarkable brown with red labels on the base and neck. Glass is wide with a reddish-brown complexion. Blue/yellow logo is a helpful field mark, but requires closer study. Description: Supple apple and raisin, but metallic finish may surprise the more timid taste buds.
Family Tripelidae (Belgian Tripel)
A family of strong pale ales that have a common ancestor: Westmalle Trappist. Some taxonomists still lump species like Westmalle Tripel and St Bernardus Tripel with the Trappidae Family, as they’ve been done in this guide. Their more secular counterparts—which have proliferated throughout Belgium since World War II—are introduced below, from light to dark. Look for “Abbey” or “Abbey-style” in the field.
Species: Bersalis Tripel Genus/Family: Brouwerij Oud Beersel / Blonde Tripel Measurements: 9.5% ABV, 6€* Range: While old (discovered in 1882), this small population has not expanded beyond the borders of Beligum. Uncommon. Status: Steady, but poised to increased (hired its first sales staff in 2010). Field ID Marks: Brown bottle has an iridescent golden neck and black base with a clear golden band in all plumages. The species is pictured in draught plumage, rare to find even in its home range. Description: Smooth, almost savory, flavors of caramel cookie await lucky hunters.
Species: Brugge Tripel Genus/Family: Brouwerij De Halve Maan / Abbey Tripel Measurements: 8.7% ABV, 5€* Range: Limited distribution. Locally abundant in Brugge, Belgium; uncommon to rare elsewhere. Status: Steady, supported by the influx of tourists to De Halve Maan brewery, the last brewery within Brugge. Field ID Marks: Look for a tall brown bottle with highlighted with blue and gold on its neck and base. Equal height in glass with a wide top and narrower bottom: may be difficult to separate from similar species from a distance. Description: Wheaty flavor with a hint of honey, but not terribly smooth.
Species: De Proef Reinaert Tripel Genus/Family: De Proef Brouwerij / Abbey Tripel Measurements: 9% ABV, 3.70€* Range: Locally rare in Belgium. Records from outside the country are few. Status: Limited observations suggest population is stable, but vulnerable. Field ID Marks: Short brown bottle and green label my be visible from a distance. A poised fox—black on bottle, gold on glass—is diagnostic. Description: Taste is smooth with strong apricot and subtle peach.
Species: St Bernardus Watou Tripel Genus/Family: Brouwerij St. Bernardus NV / Trappist Tripel Measurements: 7.5% ABV, 3.50€* Range: Common in Belgium. Uncommon to rare in Europe. Rare outside Europe but small established populations exist. Status: Stable. Field ID Marks: Relatively nondescript in bottle, with tan label contrasting little with brown body. Glass is bowl-like with bold typeface. Description: Taste is a clean mix of citrus and peachy that lingers pleasantly on the palette.
Species: Maredsous Zwarte Stop 10 (2006) Genus/Family: Duvel Moortgat / Abbey Tripel Measurements: 9.5% ABV, 6€* Range: Genus (Maredsousii) is common in Belgium, rare to uncommon worldwide. Species (2006) is limited to small, isolated populations. Status: Population of genus is stable, perhaps increasing internationally. Population of this species is declining. Field ID Marks: When encountered in the wild, look for a short, squat profile in bottle; bulbous in glass with a honey-brown complexion. Description: Smooth on the palette with the subtle taste of a porter taste, with a dash of raspberry. Finishes light with a hint of fennel licorice.
Species: Straffe Hendrik Tripel Genus/Family: Brouwerij De Halve Maan / Abbey-style Measurements: 9% ABV, 5€* Range: Locally uncommon in Brugges, Belgium. Uncommon to rare elsewhere. Status: Steady. Population sustained by tourists visiting the only brewery in popular Brugges. Field ID Marks: Gold-trimmed green label separate this species from other brown bottles. Stern, left-facing half-moon is diagnostic for the species, on bottle and in glass. Description: Expect less fruity hops with a frothy head.
Exotic/Introduced Species
Populations for the following species are established in Belgium (and therefore countable to listers) but belong to families found outside Belgian borders, namely from the U.K. and Germany.
Species: La Chouffe IPA Genus/Family: Brasserie Duvel-Moortgat / India Pale Ale Measurements: 10% ABV, 6€* Range: Genus has the highest density in Europe but small populations are established on every continent, minus Antarctica. Status: Common in Belgium. Uncommon to rare elsewhere, but has increased since sold to the larger Duvel Brewery in 2006. Field ID Marks: Short, brown bottle with a squat neck. A bearded elf with a red cap is diagnostic for the genus. Note: this species is pictured in plain plumage during the draught season. Hard to find but worth the search. Description: Seekers will be delighted with a hoppy, almost wheaty brew: smooth with tastes of honeycomb and lemon.
Species: Viven Imperial IPA Genus/Family: Brouwerij van Viven / India Pale Ale Measurements: 8% ABV, 3.50€* Range: Rare and local in the Flemish region of Belgium. No international records. Status: The genus is relatively young (1999) but new species have been discovered as recently as 2010. Population poised to increase. Field ID Marks: Similar to Viven Porter in bottle, but in glass plumage is a much lighter chestnut brown. Best distinguished in the bottle by its red label details. Description: This Belgian interpretation of a North American staple is hoppy with a nice finish of grapefruit.
Species: Viven Porter Genus/Family: Brouwerij van Viven / Porter Measurements: 7% ABV, 4€* Range: Rare and local in the Flemish region of Belgium. No international records. Status: The genus is relatively young (1999) but new species have been discovered as recently as 2010. Population poised to increase. Field ID Marks: Bottle relatively non-descript, save a tan label on its body with black details. In glass, red writing contrasts greatly with its chocolate brown plumage. Description: Those lucky enough to taste it will notice a flavorful porter with strong tastes of coffee and dark chocolate.
Species: Maes Pils (malt) Genus/Family: Brouwerij Alken-Maes / German Pilsner Measurements: 5.2% ABV, 2€* Range: Abundant in Belgium, especially in population pockets that demand inexpensive beer with relatively high alcohol content. Status: Stable. Considered a nuisance species, though poses little threat to native Belgian beers with flavor. Field ID Marks: Look for a blue can with bold white lettering, then move the other direction. Description: Strong malt flavor with little to no redeeming qualities. Stronger than Jupiler. Should be avoided.
Species: Floris Pomme Genus/Family: Brouwerij Huyghe / Wheat Beer Measurements: 3% ABV, 6€* Range: Widespread and uncommon in Belgium; accidental outside country borders. Locally common at Delirium Café in Brussels. Status: Stable. Field ID Marks: This species is vibrantly colored in bottle and could be mistaken for superficially-similar fruit sodas. In glass, expect a light golden coloration with small to medium head. Description: A refreshing, low-alcohol brew with strong apple flavor and a hint of honey rose.
Beerwatching Hotspots in Belgium
We worked with local beerwatching experts to bring you a list of favorite bars and pubs where you can expect to tally quite a few different species.
Brussels
Delirium Cafe (Impasse de la fidélité 4. 1000 Bruxelles) MAP – WEBSITE
I’m a birdwatcher. I get out of a perfectly good bed well before normal people. I drive long distances to visit locations as inviting as sewage treatment plants. I seek birds that are a range of sizes (most often small) and a flurry of colors (most often brown). Set my iPod to shuffle and you’ll find songs by Tool and Jurassic 5 intermixed with short interludes by Clay-colored Sparrow and Virginia Rail.
As a birdwatcher, I am intrigued by other hobbies that are a little off of center. On a train trip to London for the Olympics, my friend Mike and I sat with a gentleman from Quebec who collected Olympic postmarks. Not just stamps mind, nor Olympic stamps, but the circular cancelation stamps post office employees place over postage stamps. He showed us a binder—one of twenty-four in his collection—bulging with envelopes and postcards with postmarks for every Olympic competition since 1896.
On a weekend trip to Zurich Switzerland in late October, I met a gentleman who was well respected amongst followers of another esoteric hobby: plane-spotting.
I first learned of plane spotters several years ago; how they positioned their long lensed cameras near airports to capture images of commercial airliners of different makes, models, and carriers.
I periodically thought of my fellow peripheral hobbyists whenever I watched an airplane fly overhead. While I’ve trained myself to identify the subtle differences in flight profiles of Sharp-shinned and Cooper’s Hawks, I couldn’t tell you what separates a Boeing 747 from the equivalent Airbus though I know it must be obvious to the trained eye. The parallels with my beloved hobby birdwatching, including similar tools and techniques, nonetheless intrigue me.
[Editor’s Note: Adam promises to all his friends and family to not pursue another hobby that will alienate him even further from mainstream society.]
None of this was on my mind when I stumbled across Buch Air Center, a model plane store across the street from our hotel near the Zurich airport. I was drawn through the doors because I had never seen anything like it: hundreds if not thousands of model planes of different makes, models, carriers, and sizes. A pocket-sized Thai Air Boeing 737 to a four-foot long Airbus A340 donning the Swiss Air logo.
I asked the nice Swiss store owner behind the counter who’d collect such models. Some people only collect models of a certain size, he said, while some collect every make and model flown by a specific carrier. Some people just want a personal memento, for example the exact plane a couple flew on their honeymoon. Model companies are mostly British and German with some emerging from China, where he estimated 98.5% of the models are already manufactured. Carriers, like Lufthansa and Singapore Airlines, will allow companies to use their logo if they are able to give one to each of their employees for free.
I asked if he had many customers who were plane spotters. “Of course!” he responded, “I am one as well.”
This was a rare opportunity to better understand what drives the plane spotter so I identified myself as a fellow fringe hobbyist and proceeded to ask a bunch of questions. It turns out plane-spotting and birdwatching are quite similar.
Spot planes, helicopters, gliders, balloons …
No two birdwatchers are the same: some prefer scoping open water for birds while others specialize in birding by ear. Some only keep a list of birds they’ve seen in their backyard while others fly to each corner of the continent to build their “ABA list” (the American Birding Association list for continental United States and Canada). In plane spotting, some enthusiasts chase only commercial airliners, while others prefer military aircraft. A smaller and more … umm, enthusiastic subset chase any manmade object in the sky, including helicopters and business aircraft as well as gliders, drones, and even hot-air balloons. It is believed that plane spotting started in England and, like birding, the British have a reputation for producing the most manic participants.
Plane spotters keep life-lists
Armed with digital cameras and telephoto lenses, plane spotters grow their life-lists by successfully capturing images of their quarry, whether it be World War I German aircraft, or every make and model flown by a specific carrier. To an even greater extreme, some plane spotters collect images of every plane flown by a carrier (identified by unique serial numbers on their fuselage). The Swiss gentlemen with whom I spoke hadn’t tallied his list recently, but he estimated to have images for around 35,000 different commercial, military, and business aircraft in his collection.
Plane spotters employ similar strategies to birdwatchers
Every spring, birdwatchers flock to birdwatching hotspots like the Texas coast and the Florida Keys to tally scores of songbird species as they are migrating north from their tropical wintering grounds. These coastal areas are the first opportunities for birds to land after long flights over the Caribbean, thus serving as bottlenecks for dense flocks of birds you’d otherwise have to travel great distances to see. For example, a fortuitous bush could host both a Swainson’s Warbler and a Blackpoll Warbler, two species that, to see just weeks later, would require travel between the floodplains of southeastern United States and the boreal forests of Canada, respectively.
Similarly, plane spotters make efficient use of bottlenecks in the distribution of planes. Large airports that serve as hubs for multiple international carriers are effective targets as well as production facilities where planes can be “captured” as they come off the assembly line before they are delivered to more distance locations like Germany and Singapore. This Swiss gentleman had just returned from a trip to the Seattle where he visited Sea-Tac, Boeing Field in south Seattle, the Boeing production facility in Renton, and Payne Field in Everett.
Plane spotters have specialized field guides
No self-respecting birder goes in to the field without their trusty field guide, whether it be Sibley, Audubon, National Geographic, Peterson, Kauffman, or any combination thereof. Claudio Müller’s Airplanes of the World is an illustrated publication that provides short profiles on over 150 types of planes, including illustrations of its profile from above, side, and head-on. It is published annually to include all the most recent models, but with each addition, an older model is dropped, thus requiring a multiple volumes if a comprehensive reference is desired.
Every year, the World Economic Forum is held in Zurich and financial leaders arrive from all over the world to attend. This summer, the local chapter of plane spotters requested permission to access the tarmac where the planes were parked. Far from a small event, buses were used to transport well over a thousand international plane spotters to and from the airfield.
A recent field trip that made waves in the international plane-spotting community was a chartered flight into Pyongyang North Korea. Different from birdwatching, they are no professional guiding companies. Plane-spotting field trips are typically organized by individual hobbyists (perhaps inspired with the incentive of having their expenses covered by the group). Need help organizing a trip? You can purchase up-to-date catalogs of aircraft manufacturers, including detailed information on models names and serial numbers.
Our conversation was broken by the sound of the door opening. A gentleman with a spectacularly curled moustache entered the store and the two made a quick friendly exchange in German. A friend from a nearby plane-spotting chapter, the owner confided.
After monopolizing the storeowner’s time for nearly thirty minutes, I was happy to purchase the 2012 airplane field guide in my hand, even though it was in German. He threw in a small desktop calendar of commercial airliners for free.
Provided with free time, I’ll still opt to visit a verdant wetland over, say, Payne Field, unless the grassy perimeter holds a Sprague’s Pipit.
But I may learn the flight profiles of a few jetliners … and maybe a jet or two. Just a couple.
Rental car perched on the drivable breakwater at Dunkerque, France.
I am not sure if the seas were angry, but they certainly weren’t pleased about me setting up my spotting scope. My optics were pleading not to be led from the warm rental car to the fierce winds and sputters of driving rain outside.
I was in my last hours of my much-anticipated day of bird-watching in northern France. I had awoken in Paris before dawn to drive my rental Fiat 500 two hours north to the famous Parc Marquenterre, where flocks of migrating shorebirds awaited.
After careful research, I’d decided to spend the rest of the day looking out over the ocean towards the British Isles in hopes of spotting a passing murre, eider, or shearwater. My original plan was to check out several locations along the coast before pointing the car inland to Lille—on the Belgian borer—where I would rendezvous with Kristi to spend the weekend.
I glanced at my watch. As always, my original plan was ambitious. I really only had time for one stop. I decided to head straight for coastal city of Dunkerque, tempted by the pair of drivable breakwaters that jet out into the water I’d seen on Google Maps.
Without GPS, I was forced to use a less-detailed paper map and the position of the sun, which was fortunately prominent in the sky. After a few missed turns and multiple trips to the same roundabout, I found the jetty and unfortunately a seawatchers worst adversary: wind. While not as bad as its nefarious cousin, heavy rainfall, hard wind makes it difficult to hold a spotting scope steady, rendering impossible the already difficult task of identifying dark winged dots on the horizon.
I scanned the beach and the turbulent waters beyond from the comfort of the rental car. Fortunately, positioning the car was easy: the cement jetty was almost entirely drivable, save the last precipitous pitch as it met the beach.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t find much. I drove down to several more locations on the jetty: nothing.
As I approached a small group of empty cars, I was startled to see a man, perched on top of coastal boulders with a shotgun resting on his shoulder. Quite different from the beach tools I am used to seeing, the most insidious being a shovel or clam rake.
Shorebird hunter perched on a pile of cement slabs. Dunkerque, France.
There’s no way he could get a decent shot at a seaduck. Was it target practice? His similarly-armed friend approached with a limp gray body dangling from his left hand. Still at a distance, I had to use my binoculars to identify their quarry: Black-tailed Godwit, a large sandpiper.
I was shocked. Certainly they can’t hunt shorebirds in France, can they? It did explain the lack of birds on this beach. Seeing similar clusters of cars down the jetty confirmed that the sport was at least popular, if not also legal.
I drove further down the jetty and stopped just short of vividly patterned flock of black and white Eurasian Oystercatchers. I quickly brought my binoculars to my eyes, excited to study a species I hadn’t ever seen before that morning. Hmph. Hunting decoys. A man paced the waterline near the decoys, shotgun on one side, dog on the other.
Hunter and hunting dog with oystercatcher decoys.
Tactically, the location was perfect. This wide amalgam of sand, cement, and rocks was the first land migrating shorebirds would see after leaving the tip of Scandinavia 500 miles to the north.
In the United States, we are used to hunting waterfowl and gamebirds like quail and pheasant; all other species are protected by the International Migratory Bird Treaty. It was a surprise to see some of the longest distance avian migrants in the crosshairs.
Hunters waiting near their decoys: Eurasian Oystercatchers on the left and Black-tailed Godwits on the right.
Despite a more generous target list, hunting is tightly regulated in France. Every hunter must have a valid license. Applicants must pass a written exam to test their knowledge of wildlife, hunting, hunting regulations, arms and munitions, and firearm safety. After passing, the applicant must take a practical exam which involves simulated hunting (with blanks) as well as live target practice with black targets representing legally hunted wildlife and red targets representing protected species. In addition to failing the above tests, applicants can be denied for medical reasons, or by having a criminal record within the past five years.
Once they pass, they can join the hunting community in France, which is well over a million strong. Following hunting seasons set by local prefectures, people can hunt any of the 62 bird species below.
Nestled in the Champagne region 80 miles northeast of Paris, visitors flock to Reims for two reasons: centuries-old cathedrals and decades-old bubbly. Kristi, our friend Anne, and I rented a car and took an overnight trip to experience both.
Notre-Dame de Reims is the flagship cathedral in this city of 188,000. Over the course of a thousand years (9th to 19th centuries), 34 coronations of French monarchs took place at this location. This gothic cathedral, which celebrated its 800th anniversary in 2011, was built to replace the previous church that was burned to the ground. These images were taken at night.
The following morning, we stumbled across the champagne house of G.H. Martel, founded in 1869. We quickly signed up for a tour (with tasting) of the Gallo-Roman chalk cellars that burrow nearly 70 feet underneath the building and date to as early as the 4th century. While this was mostly a museum demonstrating how champagne was once made, bottled champagne is aged in subterranean cellars to maintain constant cool temperatures; nearly 200 million bottles are aging in over 60 miles of underground cellars underneath the nearby town of Épernay.
Above ground, we drove through miles of vineyards during harvest on our way to Épernay.
If a way to man’s heart is through his stomach, then perhaps the best way to understand the essence of a city is through its bowels.
Or maybe it’s just an interesting way to spend € 4.50.
Either way, The Paris Sewer Museum (Musée Égouts de Paris) is just a baguette’s toss from the Eiffel Tower and, surprisingly, has a much shorter line. When I first learned of this attraction, I vowed to visit it before I set foot on the iron steps of the Eiffel Tower; a promise that I have kept, twice (I forgot my camera on my first visit).
If you have a strong stomach—the most interesting educational signage can only be read by standing on a grate over a slow river of pungent wastewater—and an interest in how engineering evolved with an expanding Paris, then Musée Égouts de Paris is worth a visit. Much of what you’ll learn can provide insight on the difficulty of supplying freshwater while safely disposing of wastewater, an issue that has become increasingly relevant on both a metropolitan and global scale.
But I can’t help but wonder if there’s an official at the tourism bureau who said: “See, I told you guys that tourists will pay to go see anything!”
Fun Facts:
The sewer network evacuates 1.2 million cubic meters of wastewater a day, the equivalent of 35,000 milk trucks stretched for 250 miles.
Every year, enough trash is removed from sewers to cover a football field, nine feet deep.
They periodically send large wooden balls—just smaller than the diameter of the pipe—through sewer lines to clean out accumulated crud and sand.
Toilets account for 39% of water used in Paris, followed by dishes and laundry (22%), showering (20%), and cooking (6%). One percent is used for drinking.
There are 26,000 sewer inspection covers located throughout Paris, every 50 meters.
If you drop something down a storm drain, you can call 44-75-22-75 and have a cheerful civic employee climb down through the sewer to find your lost item—free of charge.
Now, for a little more history.
1st – 4th centuries A.D. – Paris had a populations of 6,000 people and water was drawn from the Seine or tributaries. Wastewater was dumped into the earth streets and fields where it eventually met the Seine. Romans did respect their personal hygiene and built an aqueduct to bring fresh spring water into the homes of dignitaries and public baths.
5th – 15th centuries A.D. – During the Middle Ages, the city Paris spread out and, with a population of 200,000, it became the most populous city in Europe. The contents of chamber pots were thrown from windows onto the streets below; shouts of regardez l’eau! (“Watch out for the water!”) is a theory for the derivation of loo, British slang for toilet. Wastewater would collect on earthen streets, greasing the skids for epidemics like the plague. The overwhelming stench prompted engineers to build “split streets,” paved roads with a central gutter in the 13th century, and later building the first covered sewer in 1370—just 300 meters in length. Drinking water still came from the Seine and public fountains fed by aqueducts; demand gave birth to the profession of “water fetcher.”
15th – 18th centuries A.D. – During the Renaissance, the population of Paris increased slightly to 250,000 by the 16th century, but the population doubled to 500,000 during the 17th. To deal with the exploding amount of waste, Francois 1 (early 16th century) made it mandatory that cesspits be built underneath all buildings. Waste was transported to nearby moats and garbage bins by sewage collectors. King Lois XIV started construction of the main sewer system in the late 17th century. Water supply was the same as during the Middle Ages: fountains, wells, and the Seine. New aqueducts were built and several new pumps, powered by the flow the river, were installed on the Seine. The number of “water fetchers” grew to 20,000.
1850 – 1914 – The population of Paris hits 1 million in 1845. Baron Haussmann—civic planner under Napoleon III who sculpted the grand avenues and ubiquitous apartment blocks of “modern” Paris—appointed Eugene Belgrand to head the Water Board. Over the next 50 years, Belgrand oversaw the building of 600 km of aqueducts that brought fresh spring water from the Seine Valley. Still not able to meet demand, water from the Seine was run through large filters filled with sand. Water that Parisians used to drink was relegated to cleaning streets. The profession of “water fetchers” was eliminated with the creation of the General Water Company, which would provide water to private homes with a fee. Sewers were built to collect waste directly from buildings and empty it into the Seine, downriver from Paris. As pollution built, and clouds of methane caused people to move away from the river, Paris constructed 19 square miles of fields outside the city across which the city’s raw sewage was spread to be filtered naturally. Vegetable gardens hosted at the site grew vegetables of unnatural size.
Routes in the sewer system have signs for the corresponding street or landmark above it
(Bruneseau, however, was the man commissioned by Napoleon to map the sewer network in the early 19th century and this section was dedicated to him—what an honor).
The underground flow of urban runoff.
The educational signage, located over a slowly moving river of brown wastewater.
I have never been more fearful of anything falling from my pockets.
One the sewer pipes viewable from the walkways.
A sword recovered from construction work in the sewer.
A pair of recovered swords.
An example of a wooden ball used to clean smaller pipes. As water pressure builds behind it,
the ball scrapes the sides of the pipe and pushes the accumulated sand and urban detritus out the other side.
An example of a much larger ball used to clean out the main pipes, which are about 8′ in diameter.
A sewer employee uses a bugle to warn his coworkers of heavy rains, which cause floods underground.
Go. Enjoy the bowels of Paris at Musée Égouts. But don’t bring a picnic lunch.
No one comes to Paris for the birds. But because many European travel itineraries loop through the City of Light, birders would be well served to bring their binoculars. After perusing paintings at the Louvre and consuming sweets at the corner patisserie, take a morning and explore one of the locations outlined below. You may be surprised about what species you can find.
Look at an aerial map of Paris and, amidst the tangle of streets, you’ll note that one is never more than a couple metro stops away from a patch of green. Unfortunately for birders, most are gardens that for centures have been subjected to French landscape architects who value order and symmetry over ecology. Ultimately, avian diversity suffers.
After living in southwestern Paris for eight months, I found a handful of gems that are worth a visit.
Bois de Boulogne**
Parc de l’Ile St Germain**
Ile de Seguin
Parc du Beaumonts
Jardin des Plantes
Cimetiere du Pere Lachaise
Bois de Vincennes** Parks listed in no particular order. (**) Denotes the most rewarding locations if time is at a premium.
Helpful Resources:
Check out eBird.org to get an idea of what species are likely when (this bar chart is for all of Île de France, the prefect where Paris is located). To search to see where specific species have been reported in Paris, visit this page (currently Crested Tit) and type the species name in the top left. NOTE: resident eBirders in Paris are extremely rare so the eBird database is almost entirely dependent on visiting birders like you—please input your sightings to make this bar chart as accurate as possible.
Fauna – Île de France is where sightings are reported by French birdwatchers. Click on one of the Les __ derniers jours links in the left nav to select reports from the last two, five, or fifteen days. Select “Lieu 75” on the next page to only display reports from Paris (Paris is located in postal district 75). Species names are in French but you can translate the page automatically if you use Google Chrome, or copy and paste the names into translate.google.com. If a report interests you, use Google or Bing Maps to find the location, but be sure to search the French version of the place name.
Bois de Boulogne
If you have the time, a morning at Bois de Boulogne (literally “Boulogne Forest”) will provide a nice slice of European specialties. Located to the west of Paris, Bois de Boulogne is located just outside the circular peripherique highway that defines the borders of Paris. It’s 2.5 times the size of New York’s Central Park and offers unmanaged habitat complete with undergrowth, mature trees and snags—a refreshing change from the manicured gardens located on the inside of the highway.
Best opportunities exist in the Parcours Sportif, a 3km exercise trail in the southeast corner of the park. Habitat is relatively open—especially the eastern half—allowing easy viewing of the mature deciduous tree canopy. Check snags for Greater Spotted or Green Woodpeckers—the more numerous woodpecker species—but keep an eye out Middle-Spotted and Lesser-Spotted Woodpeckers as well. Chasing down a pecking sound revealed a Black Woodpecker on one August morning. Early spring is the best time to chase woodpeckers as territorial males start to drum on still leafless trees.
While looking for woodpeckers, listen for Common Chiffchaff, Eurasian Nuthatches, and Short-toed Treecreepers. Mixed flocks of tits are likely throughout the park, including—in order of abundance—Great, Eurasian Blue, Long-tailed, and Marsh. Crested Tits can be found in the conifer trees that line carless Avenue de Saint-Cloud that runs north-south down the middle of Parcours Sportif. This is also a good spot for Goldcrests.
The ample undergrowth hold many of the likely suspects, including European Robin, Eurasian Wren, Song Thrush, Eurasian Blackbird, Blackcap, Common Chiffchaff, and Willow Warbler. Firecrest are possible during migration; check blackbird flocks for Redwing in winter as well as tree tops for Mistle Thrush and Fieldfare.
Scan the skies for passing raptors like Eurasian Sparrowhawk and Eurasian Kestrel, but chances are passing silhouettes will belong to the ubiquitous Common Wood-Pigeon (but check for the smaller Stock Doves).
Birding doesn’t get your pulse racing? Stop at one of the numerous exercise stations to do some quick chin-ups or dips. In addition to joggers, this area is also popular with dog owners. Most dogs are off-leash and wander freely—sometimes in large spirited packs—but, like their owners, nearly all will choose to ignore you.
From the Parcours Sportif, walk north to Lac Inferior and Lac Superior. The water’s edge is neatly manicured so don’t expect too many marsh birds, but Eurasian Coot, Mallard, Mute Swan, and Eurasian Moorhen are easily spotted. Scan out over the open water for Common House-Martin and Barn Swallow in spring and summer.
Still not ready to go back to the city? The Bois de Boulogne offers hundreds of miles of trails into largely forested habitat and will increase your chances of spotting species mentioned above and others, especially during migration. Réserve Ornithologique at the intersection Allée de Longchamp and Route de la Grande Cascade offers intriguing habitat with a blind complete with educational signage, but several late morning visits yielded little. The nearby lakes and surrounding habitat are worth a wander; an off-trail stand of conifer trees provided great studies of a flock of Goldcrests and a pair or Eurasian Bullfinches in June.
Be forewarned that it is quite easy to get turned around in this labyrinth of trails. A GPS-enabled smartphone will be the biggest help but if you don’t have access to data. The widely used Paris Pratiqué street map has a page dedicated to Bois de Boulogne but for a more detailed view, take a picture of one of the large maps with your phone that greets visitors as they enter the park. This image will help orient you when you come across one of the many thoroughfares that criss-cross the park, many of which are well-marked. A compass is also a big help.
As you explore the trails, be mindful that visiting the edge of any major drivable thoroughfare may bring you face-to-face with the less reputable side of this natural area: prostitutes. Lone men wandering the woods may attract attention, but a quick flash of your binoculars should dispel any questions about the intention of your visit. Visit during the daytime and your safety won’t be an issue.
Directions: Take the Line 10 Metro to the Porte d’Auteuil stop. Walk west on Avenue de la Porte d’Auteuil. You can cut in to the park at numerous locations, but to get to the parcours de sportif, continue on Avenue de la Porte d’Auteuil, passing Roland Garros (home of the French Open) on your left. Upon arriving at the large traffic circle, take a sharp right up the carless Avenue de Saint-Cloud. Good habitat exists on either side of the road, but the parcours trail run parallel to the road after about 0.25 mile on the right side of the road. For easy access, continue on Avenue de Saint-Cloud until the six way intersection, and take a 90 degree right to access the trail(s).
Parc de l’Ile St Germain If you find yourself in the south—and maybe slightly west—of Paris, it’s worth a stroll over the bridge to Parc de l’Ile St Germain, even for non-birders. Surrounded by the river Seine, Ile de St. Germaine (“St Germain Island”) is almost entirely public park. The eastern half of the park contains an equestrian center, a restaurant, and an oddly painted monolith—the unlikely lovechild of a nascent Picasso and an overzealous cement mixer—perched on top of a hill overlooking some playfields.
If you seek birds, make tracks to the western end of the park, also accessible from Boulevard des l’Iles from Pont de Billancourt (“Billancourt Bridge”) to the west. The secret gardens nestled amongst stone ruins are worth a few photos, but the nearby grasslands—and possibility for goldfinches and serins—may distract birders. That natural habitat will improve as you continue west to a very small wetland at the far western edge of the park—the most productive area for birding in the entire park, especially during migration. Eurasian Blue, Great, and Long-tailed Tits, Eurasian Nuthatch, Short-toed Treecreeper, Eurasian Magpie, Common Chafffinch, Eurasian Jay, and Eurasian Blackbird are possible year-round; look for Greater Whitethroat, Spotted Flycatcher, and Pied Flycatcher in migration. Scanning the skies can yield Common Wood-Pigeon, Black-headed Gull, and Great Cormorant.
One November morning, a small stand of alders about 50 meters east of the ponds brought one Lesser Redpoll in with a small flock of European Goldfinches to feed. In winter, also look for European Serin and Eurasian Siskin in this area. Mistle Thrush, Redwing, Song Thrush, and Fieldfare are all possible amidst the swelling winter population of Eurasian Blackbirds. Eurasian Bullfinches can be found in the fruiting trees nearby.
As with most bird-watching, morning is best.
Directions: Take Line 9 Metro to Pont de Sevres, exiting at Porte de St-Cloud. Walk south on Georges Lafont for about 0.5 mile. Take a right on Bd de la Republique. After a few blocks, you will cross the Seine on Pont d’Issy (be sure to be on the south side of the road). The park entrance will be on the right. The best birding habitat is on the far side of the park.
Ile de Seguin Another island on a southwestern stretch of the Seine, Ile de Seguin is a newly-constructed park reclaimed from the remnants of a defunct Renault factory. Busted windows near the water’s edge and reinforced cement entryways are vestiges of the islands industrial past, built in 1934 with the last car rolling off the production line in 1992. The buildings were finally demolished in 2005. Don’t expect a diversity of habitat at Ile de Sequin: it’s covered by a thick shrub that, I suspect, was planted because of its tolerance for industrial toxics that likely remain in the soil. Bring your binoculars, however, just in case the Little Ringed Plovers seen during construction in 2012 remain. European Goldfinches and European Serins are possible year-round and outlying trees and shrubs should attract migrants in spring and fall. Black-headed Gulls are reliable on the river: Common Terns possible in migration.
Directions: Take Line 9 to the last stop: Pont de Sevres. The island is visible from the Pont de Sevres bridge but you need to walk south and east along the river to access the new (modern-looking) passenger footbridge. The path continues to the left to exit the island via an older bridge on the other side (which a birder needn’t explore).
Parc du Beaumonts Parc du Beaumonts is a small hill on the outskirts of NE Paris (Montreuil) with a deciduous forest at its base and overgrown habitat with scrub and grass—even a pond—at its modest summit, the highest point in the area. It may be a bit out of the way, but this raised forest—in a sea of apartment buildings—is a magnet for passing migrants in August/September and April/May. Visit in the morning to scour the treetops and the summit for a slough of possible passerines otherwise difficult to find in Paris. Return in the afternoon to perch on the parks berm to scan the skies for passing raptors, with Eurasian Hobby and Honey Buzzard possible.
Parc du Beaumonts is the stomping grounds of British expat birder, David Thorns, who, with a regular cadre of birders, tally 120+ species a year. Check his blog for recent sightings.
Directions: Take Line 9 all the way to the end, Marie de Montreuil. Follow Avenue Walwein east for several blocks before it takes a soft right and continues as Rue Galilée. At the T-intersection, take a right onto Avenue Jean Moulin. After two blocks, the entrance to the park will be on your left.
Jardin des Plantes
Located in the fifth arrondissement across Gare d’Austerlitz, the Jardin des Plantes is the flagship botanical garden in France. For the plant enthusiast, there are numerous demonstration gardens, a rose garden, separate greenhouses for both Mexican and Australian plant species, and an alpine garden with 3000 species from around the world. Nature enthusiasts will enjoy the four museums on site (Paleontology, Entomology, Mineralogy, and the Grand Gallery of Evolution) as well as the world’s oldest zoo, created in 1795 with animals brought from the royal menagerie at Versailles.
For the birdwatcher, much of the gardens are maintained in the traditional French style—a symmetrical statement of man’s ability to control nature. Wander the gardens and you’ll quickly find Eurasian Magpie, Eurasian Jay, Common Wood-Pigeon, Carrion Crow, European Starling, Great Tit, and Eurasian Blue Tit.
The Jardin Ecologique offers the most promising habitat within the park with trees of varying heights, snags, and undergrowth. This area is only accessible 11:00am-12:30pm by guided tour (€4) but almost all of it is viewable from the perimeter (although this path is packed with joggers in the morning). Look and listen for Eurasian Nuthatch, Short-toed Treecreeper, Eurasian Wren, Blackcap, European Robin, Dunnock, Common Chiffchaff, Long-tailed Tit, and Eurasian Blackbird.
As you move west in the park, you may be able to see a (captive) Eurasian Eagle-Owl in a zoo enclosure to your right. Keep on eye out for European Greenfinch and Eurasian Moorhen in the gardens to your left and listen for Rose-ringed Parakeet, a recent addition to the park list whose population is increasing in Paris.
Finally, the evergreen forest is tall and lacks an understory but it should yield additional opportunities for treecreepers, blackbirds, and the aforementioned tits, as well as Goldcrest, and possible Song Thrush.
Cimetiere du Pere Lachaise Cimetiere du Pere Lachaise (“Pere Lachaise Cemetery”) is a popular tourist attraction located in the 20th arrondisement on the east side of Paris. Over 100 acres of beautiful old trees greets visitors to this historic landmark, but birders shouldn’t expect the undergrowth that makes ideal bird habitat: that area is occupied by thousands and thousands of gravestones and crypts dating back to the early 19th century. That doesn’t mean you should keep your binoculars in the hotel room; the trees can get quite thick in some sections and the raised hill at the south end of the park can attract passerines in migration.
The more common species in Paris abound, including: Common Wood-Pigeon, Great Tit, Eurasian Blue Tit, Eurasian Jay, Eurasian Magpie, Carrion Crow, Short-toed Treecreeper, Eurasian Blackbird, and European Starling.
The call of a Great Spotted Woodpecker could be heard anywhere, as well as Eurasian Nuthatch. Scour the numerous flocks of tits for less numerous Coal Tit. Look for flocks of European Greenfinch feeding on seeds of conifer trees. To find some of the only underbrush in the cemetery, head to the roundabout with the tomb of Casimir Perier (1777-1832) and find the small trails uphill to the north, paralleling Avenue des Accacias. Listen for Eurasian Wren and European Robin.
Work your way up the trails to scour the trees for passerines during migration. A trip in mid-October yielded a large flock of Firecrest, numerous Common Chiffchaff, several Song Thrush on the fruiting conifers, a handful of Blackcap, a European Pied Flycatcher, and a fly-by Eurasian Hobby.
Once you’ve packed away the binoculars, return to the entrance to look at the map of famous residents, including Oscar Wilde, Frederic Chopin, and Jim Morrison.
Bois de Vincennes
The 2,500 acre Bois de Vincennes comprises the eastern half of the “green lungs of Paris.” If the pace of the city and the noise of its urban arteries have grown tiresome, retreat to this tangle of trails threading through this impressive expanse of untamed deciduous forest. Prefer stylized greenscapes and the sightlines of a dramatic park avenue? Bois de Vincennes will also satisfy; it even has a lake or two.
Enter from the Port Doree Metro station and walk the edge of Lac Daumesnil. Joggers will be present at every hour of the day, more so on the weekends. Move west and the packs of aerobic junkies—and the urban din—will fall from memory.
The lake hosts a large gaggle of Canada Geese. Sort through the flocks to find a resident Barnacle or Bar-headed Goose or a flock of Ruddy Shelducks. All are introduced and therefore uncountable to listing purists, but still worth a study. The lake also supports Black-headed Gull, Gray Heron, Great Cormorant, Mute Swan, and Mallard but also check for migrating waterfowl. The island, accessed from a bridge near the Buddhist temple, can be a good place to find migrants like Song Thrush and Firecrest in migration and Rose-ringed Parakeet year round.
The brushy area south of the lake is a good place to scan for Dunnock, Eurasian Greenfinch, and Common Chaffinch. In winter, look for increasingly scarce Eurasian Tree Sparrow and Cirl Bunting. Keep an eye open for patrolling Eurasian Kestrels. As you move further east, you’ll find more deciduous trees and a greater likelihood of seeing forest birds like Eurasian Jay, Eurasian Wren, European Magpie, Goldcrest, Short-toed Treecreeper, Common Chiffchaff, Eurasian Nuthatch, European Robin, European Blackbird, and Song Thrush. Expect passerine numbers and diversity to increase during migration throughout the park. Nearly all the tit species are possible, including Great, Eurasian Blue, Long-tailed, Willow, and Crested (with Coal in migration and winter). Great Spotted, Lesser Spotted, and Green are the most likely woodpeckers, but keep an eye out for Middle Spotted and Black Woodpeckers, which you’ll be hard-pressed to find within city limits. Mistle Thrush is possible year round, but look for wintering Redwing and Fieldfare in open areas.
Access the park from Fountenay sous Bois RER station to walk around Lac des Minimes for a chance of Common Pochard in addition to many of the water birds mentioned previously. There are numerous trails in the area, but stick near a couple of the streams for a chance at Common Kingfisher.
Your chances to see any or all of the above species will increase as you cover more ground, but take care not to get too lost. A rudimentary map is a must if your smartphone doesn’t have a roaming data plan—a compass is also helpful. If and when you find a map display board, take a picture for future reference on the trail. All trails are flat and neatly maintained.
The so-called Reserve Ornithologie (located near the intersection of Allee Royale and Route Royale de Beaute) is worth a stop but don’t expect different habitat, just a fenced perimeter that, while impeding access for careful observers, protects valuable underbrush.
To depart, head north to visit Chateau de Vincennes, a hunting lodge for numerous French kings dating back to Louis VII in the 12th century.
As I continue to explore and discover vegetated Parisian nooks worthy of your binoculars, I will report them to this page. If you have any additional suggestions, please let me know by leaving a comment!
