Kim calls the metro here the “Floo network” (Harry Potter reference) because the train lurches and thrusts towards the next station at break-neck speed. All without a driver.
So we arrived at this cemetery on the outskirts of Paris in a jiffy. It sprawls over 44 hectares so requires a dedicated morning or afternoon. It’s very pretty with tall oak trees and their leaves doing their floating to the ground thing. Maps available at the funeral parlours surrounding the cemetery are vague and confusing so finding your Marcels Marceau and Proust become treasure hunts. We met quite a few people all with a view to discussing possible locations.
But it leaves me with so many questions…
What sort of superstition is it to build elaborate memorials to those that have turned to dust? This is a 17 year’s old grave followed by her parents.
Much speculation as to why this represents Oscar Wilde.
The glass screen was erected because removing the lipstick off the stone was getting too expensive for the family. It continues on the glass. Why?
Serge Gainsbourg, a popular but controversial French 60’s pop star, has metro tickets left everywhere. It was thought that this referred to a song of his about a lowly ticket seller, but then tickets are also showing up on other graves too.
What is this?
Why the two headed sculpture? Google offered no help.
The outpouring of affection for Jim Morrison, poet of a generation, I can understand.
But the tree in front of it for chewing gum?
I do know why the shiny bit, but this is a family blog so you will have to google Victor Noir yourself.
The poignant vert-de-gris pattern on this father and son – both professors of medicine.
Fabienne was 17 months old.
Then a jolt. Suzon was 21 when she was killed at the Bataclan terrorist attack in 2015.
It seemed to be important that no grave looked like any other. Elaborate or not, they seem to be just place holders for memories.
On a higher note, “Monsieur Mittens” , a black cat, will be in safe hands soon.
