Under Paris

Under Paris: there’s something particular about staying the night on a boat. It’s the swaying of the body, of course, and the patter of the aqua. It’s not just that; it is also the feeling of being in some small room, like a cocoon, disconnected from the outside world. Not net here to discuss about cruise liners and petty luxury yachts.

This is a more of a small boat which has a light and not disturbing sway, just enough for a person to know she is not in a flat still land. If sailing is a form of transport that does not sit well with you, this may be a problem. As for me, whatever I may have or not, I have never slept better than on a boat.

Now assume this boat is moored in Paris. You open your eyes to a scene from a 1950s French movie and end your day gazing at a brilliant moon.

In June I got to experience that (all but the full moon, but more on that later).

This obsession of mine had not just developed lately. I had been looking at boats- particularly, péniches which are river boats that were initially used for trade – for over 30 years, in other words, the same period in which I had been coming to Paris.

Then, at a party in Paris last fall, my last night in the city before heading home to the United States, I met a Willem couple who asked me to join them in their apartment which happened to be built on a péniche for a drink.

The new friends’ péniche was moored on the Right Bank, between the pont de la concorde and the passerelle leopold-sedar-senghor, right in the heart of Paris which was my favorite harbor in the entire city, only that this one was away from all the hustle and bustle of cars and people. Just about as perfect a combination as I could conjure up in my imagination.

It was a warm evening. We were seated on the deck while Jan arranged the wine glasses and a champagne bottle. I could see the Eiffel Tower illuminated on the other side of the water.

“If you come across a person, you have any ideas or know someone who would be interested in renting out their péniche for a short time maybe a week or two,” I said, “please inform me.”

A certain pleasant level of funk

And in fact, Under Paris is accurate to say that a Péniche may also be rented through Airbnb and Vrbo websites about peniches (prices range from $100 a night for a houseboat two miles from Paris in Neuilly-sur-Seine area to more than $500 a night for a luxury péniche in the heart of Paris) as well as several rental agencies in the city including Paris Attitude and Bookahouseboat.com. However, before I could catch up with them on the Internet, all of them offered me something that I realized was rather cold – some wine.

“We would love to have you back and we will let you crash with us,” said Jan.

I visited Paris again in June. In the period that ensued after my initial visit to Jan and Lydia’s boat that fall evening, I had multiple occasions to talk myself through the pictures of warm evenings on the deck with a glass of Champagne in my hand.

But on that June day it was very cold and still heavy downpour when I reached the place and the wind seemed to blow from the water.

My Uber dropped me on a very busy street at the level above the quay where Jan and Lydia’s péniche was moored which made me struggle with dragging my suitcase down a flight of stairs to the water. I mean, I would say it was worth the trouble.

The péniche was one of many others to line the wall of the river, most of them being of about the same measurements of a little more than 100 ft –half of them had taken out deck space to include permanent seats and flowerpots, some toys for the children (there’s enough deck space for a tricycle or two), awnings, and once even a car that swam.

Nonetheless, a couple of the boats looked like they had been tastefully fixed up, the rest were quite attractively rough.

Beware of where you step

Not everybody longs to spend his or her holiday on a péniche as I do, and that is one aspect which sets me apart from other visitors to, or residents of, Under Paris. Very few Parisians rent a space on a péniche even though the cost of living on the boat is lesser than what it would cost to rent an apartment of equal square area in any of the affluent areas in Paris.

And it is true: To embrace that intense romance and character requires a certain open-mindedness, a certain level of being handy, a not-so-dodgy attitude towards the weather and a certain nimbleness so that a windy day will not frighten you away from the deck.

The mooring areas for the péniches in most circumstances also pose a problem. As for the one where my hosts were. There are a number of boats moored, one behind the other, that is in two rows if viewed from the side.

Hence when getting on to that the vessel on the extreme outside edge, one must first walk on to the deck of the inner vessel which is moored to the quay and only then take a jump to a wooden bridge. If what is on your mind is immersing into the Seine, I suggest you take note of where you place your foot. For me, all that formed part of the adventure.

Panic and waves of terror would assail a person not used to what obliterators consider small-and-cramped living spaces, but the vessel owned by my Dutch friends was almost as large as a fairly good New York loft which had a kitchen, where, together, some cooks could also work, extending into a sitting area with a dining room and living room, bedrooms at each end, two bathrooms, and an area where a captain could sit if this boat was indeed on the river where it used to be.

This was particularly true in the past, when boats of ezt, en péniches et barges the fonction de transport de la idee du portage et remorquage, etait, en amont et en aval du fleuve, les courtes ternes, ou phetes fusai le pelle et diminutaises toelle pullice use too one here.

Additional sitting room was available too seated me in siso, studying beam down gaze limited to the built bed arms sided instead of often the money to get stories. Is it fair to say that there was no preference given for the view from upstairs?

Let us focus on the deck, who is arguably the most essential component of a péniche experience. Some of these boat owners bury their heads in the dirt and grow lemon trees and roses and planters of vegetables, but what lures most on a péniche deck is the view…the view of the horizon of the ou verf py Mette in the city.

Throughout my visits to Paris I never saw what I saw from that particular boat in the middle of the Seine – the Eiffel tower in its full glory I might add, without any troubled hedges or billboards in the line of sight.

The next morning after I got there was rainy too, I got up and took a cup of coffee in the small captain’s cabin. The day after, it rained some more. Still, I went out to one of the many spans over the Seine for croissants and a baguette.

When I got back on the boat, there was a small gas advertisement stove located in the sitting area. It was in the midst of my host and myself that this stove was lit.

Luckily, it didn’t rain throughout the whole week of my stay. In fact, once I gave up the fantasy of being able to stay outdoors on the terrace, as a bell, in the pleasant warmth of the evenings, with good light over the water, I started warmly embracing the different vision of my time spent on the péniche.

As much as my little cocoon bed sheltered me from the harsh weather outside, there was something about me that needed to step out ontothe deck every night, even if the rains were the heaviest or the water was choppy and dark. This was also Paris. Only a ‘side’ picture.

I made it a point on every evening of my stay to step out on the boat after carefully getting inside through the front door and then go sit on the deck and Hayley why the Eiffel Tower HAST EVER AND FOREVER SCREENED THIS STIRRING TURBULENT WORLD OUT FROM NED.

One night the fog was indescribably thick, almost distracting the illuminated structures from towering above it, and yet some of them stood out to gauge as well as the last bateau mouche ferrying passengers from one end of Paris to the other.

Clasped inside my friend’s rain jacket, I thought of how privileged I was to be out under the open sky, rather than lying on the bed staring at the ceiling. I think that beneath those clouds, there were stars somewhere.

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