Porte des Allemands

Last Sunday was a bit drizzly, but I wanted to get out for my walk, so I headed to the Porte des Allemands, the last of the medieval fortifications, built around 1230. The Porte des Allemands gets its name from a hospital, Notre Dame des Allemands, founded by Teutonic knights, although I have no clue as to WHY they would name a fortification after a hospital. Again, Wikipedia seems to have the most information on it, and it is in French. The photos in this entry are from my Circuit des Remparts album on Picasa, and there are photos there I don't mention or post here, as well.
I approached the Porte from across the street, and it looked promising, with its four towers. I crossed the street, walked through the arched entrance, turned toward one of the towers to find the entrance into it... and it was blocked! I walked around to see if I had missed it somehow on the street, but no. There was no going up into the tower. Same for the other three. Actually, there was no going into any of the interior spaces other than the courtyard area, because everything had either been walled or gated off. Arrgh! I did notice that the floor tiles were patterned, which had to have been a laborious process when they were made, so I walked up to the gate to take a photo, and saw garbage thrown into the room, just as I had the previous day along the ramparts. And then, it hit me - the scent of urine that pervaded everything! In a town where trash is collected three days a week (four, if you count recycling), I am amazed at how much of it there is strewn about everywhere. Theoretically, you could leave a bag of rubbish in front of someone's house - it would certainly be picked up! As for restrooms, Metz has two McDonald's and several street toilets (which, granted, cost money, but not that much). People can be disgusting. Trying not to get any part of me to touch any part of the building other than the soles of my shoes on the ground, I crouched down to take the photo of the tiles.

[edit: Thank you, Caroline, for letting me know that the ancient monuments, such as the Porte, are maintained entirely by volunteers. This would explain why access is restricted and the difficulty in keeping up with litter that collects. Please, when you visit, be sure to clean up after yourself.]


On my way home, I passed a sandwich restaurant advertising Américain Frites. As I was taking the photo of the sign, I looked up into the window, and saw the owner staring at me in confusion. I wasn't sure if he was going to laugh or run me out of his town, so I gave him my best cheesy smile and waved. Luckily, he waved back. Feeling very much like a teenager caught thumbing through her parent's porn collection, I ran off down the street!

I felt a little guilty about not buying something there (I also feel compelled to buy something from places that let me use their restrooms), so after I cleaned off some of the ick of my day, I headed back to order the Américain. By this time, both owners were there, and curious as to why I would take a photo of their menu. And one of them wanted me to take his photo. His name is Mus (pronounced like moose), and he is in my Lorraine Fauna album striking a glamorous pose. Ceto, the one who caught me in the first place is also there, seated in an orange shirt.
I forgot to mention before that at the Market last Saturday, I bought a knock-off perfume for the first time ever. I actually don't know what brand of perfume it was supposed to smell like, but I needed something for the apartment to mask the cigarette smoke from my neighbors. I bought it from Mikael, who is young enough to be my son, and seems to like to flirt. As I was leaving, Mikael gave me his phone number, and said "I like women, not girls, if you know what I mean." Which I think means he wants a cougar. I am keeping it as my prize for still being able to have young men give me their numbers!