The naming of streets is a difficult matter. It isn't just one of your holiday games.

The streets here are schitzophrenic. They can't quite decide who they are or how they prefer to be called. As I was walking today, the street I was in took four different names within four blocks. It introduced itself to me as Rue Erasme, but apparently Erasmus was too ancient and scholarly a person to emulate, and it changed to Rue Pierre Brossolette. Sensing that I was warming up to the liberation hero, the street immediately changed name, epoch, and personality, and became Rue Jean Calvin. Jean, as you know, is the equivalent of what we call John, though Calvin was, in fact, French. Though why the French use the Latin derivation of his last name instead of his birth name, Chauvin, is beyond me. Fortunately I didn't have long to ponder this, since the street was through with personnifying itself and decided that it would much rather be an Epee de Bois (a wooden sword). Curious as I was to see what it would morph into next, I did not get the opportunity; my wooden sword street ended as it thrust itself into Rue Monge, though I cannot see why the mathematically-minded Count deserved to be run through with such a weapon. (All biographies are available on Wikipedia, by the way, and I recomend them as highly interesting, if you're into that sort of thing. Which I am. Clearly.)

The sudden existance/non-existance of streets presents another navigation problem. When streets exist for only one block, as they often do here, it's hard to place them or create a mental map of the city. One can never assume that a street extends out until it reaches another street, or that two streets that should intersect will. Most of the streets are set at awkward angles as well, making a direct route a rarity. All of these factors make a map absolutely essential when visiting Paris--far more so than in New York or any city so logically laid out. Manhattan streets continue in a straight line, perpendicular to their counterparts, and they maintain the same name block after block after block, with relatively few exceptions. When I have finished with Paris, I will make my way to New York and laugh with mocking condescension at the simplicity of their street plans, then secretly breathe a sigh of relief and gratitude for the beautiful grid of clarity before me.

The nice thing about having a one block street, however, is that it makes locating the space for which you search fairly easy. For example, it's pretty easy to find the Art History building of Paris 4 if you know what street it's in, since Rue Michelet exists for about 100 yards and has only two imposing looking University buildings (if a building in Paris looks imposing, chances are it's a government building, a museum, a historic landmark, or a university).

But I am proud to say that I am managing exceptionally well, so long as I have my maps handy in unfamiliar regions, and even without my maps in the familiar zones. Though I adventured in many an unfamiliar territory today, not once was I lost. Today.

One day at a time, eh?