I don't normally carry large lenses with me when I
travel. Between what the airlines will allow and what my back will tolerate,
I'm usually limited to something which is smaller and lighter. Now, that's not
altogether bad as it forces me to learn the strengths and limitations of what
are - in effect - my primary lenses. And it probably lends to some creative
decisions as well. But after a while, one gets tired of living between 16-105mm
and so, for my October 2012 trip to Paris, I had decided to break out the big
gun - the 70-200mm f/2.8L IS. Now, if you're into photography, you have some
idea of how big and heavy this thing is. For those of you who aren't, here's
how big and heavy this thing is - about a foot long and it weighs about 3.5
pounds (which is a lot when you're hanging that on an already heavy camera).
Oh, and like all big Canon lenses, it's off-white and not black - so it stands
out.
Which is what I was doing when I walked onto the Metro
platform at Cluny-La Sorbonne.
The plan was simple - head to the right bank of the Seine
vers Place de la Concorde and gets
some shots of the Eiffel Tower at
sunset/the blue hour. Then get down to the Veme
Arrondissement to meet some friends for dinner. Easy.
Now, one side effect - sometimes negative but usually
positive - with carrying heavy camera gear out and in the open is that you tend
to attract attention. And so it was in this case as an elderly Parisian
gentleman noticed my rig hanging off my shoulder and exclaimed, "Buh! C'est grande" with his hands
spread apart to indicate just how grande
he thought my lens was. I laughed (this
happens a lot) and said something to him in French - probably nothing more than
"oui" - and kept waiting
for the Metro, which soon came because this was Paris and not Washington D.C.
(seriously, terrible subway in DC). By the time the train arrived however, we had started conversing a little; nothing
substantive - he'd correctly identified me as tourist (though I always insist
on "guest" rather than "tourist" - je ne suis pas tourist, je suis invité) and was providing me some
suggestions on where to shoot. Now, it wasn't much more than what one could get
out of Lonely Planet, but I can't fault Parisian politeness (and, as an aside,
it's worth noting that in several trips to Paris, I've yet to meet a rude Parisian) and so we continued to
talk until the train arrived at the platform. When we got into the car, we
discovered it was quite full and so we pulled down the fold up seats next to
the doors and continued to talk.
Now, at this point, I should back up and describe this
gentleman so you'll understand why, the entire time I was talking to him, I was
thinking "I have to get a picture". He was an older man (seventies? eighties?)
wearing a black wool overcoat, over an oatmeal colored, wool sweater. Drooping
eyes and a neatly cropped salt-and-pepper mustache. And to top it all off, he
was wearing (of course), a beret. In other words: a Frenchman right out of central casting.
As we shot through the tunnels under the 6th and 7th Arrondissements all I could of was how
to ask this guy for a photo. Surely doing so would violate some unknown rule of
French etiquette? On ne doit pas etre mal
eleve. But finally, mine was the next stop and I broke down:
"Excusez-moi monsieur, mais est-ce que je
prends un photo?"
"Bien sur" he said with a slight smile.
I leaned back as far as I could (remember, I still had a
long lens on the camera and we were sitting about three feet away from one
another) and snapped off a shot. I looked at it on the back of my camera and
then showed it to the man as we pulled into my station.
His reaction? In French: "All I need is a
baguette."
I laughed all the way to Place de la Concorde.
