Paddington is like Paris

One of the first things I noticed about Paddington is how much it is like (what I know about) Paris.

I am a self-confessed Francophile. I love the language, the country, the cheese, the wine and the food. (Well, most of the food - when eating in France it does help to know enough "menu French" to stop oneself ordering tête de veau and other traditional French dishes that the typical 21st century Australian palate finds, frankly, unpalatable.)

Some of the things I do know about Paris are some things I've noticed that Paddington shares. For a start, the housing is medium density and people live in beautiful, old, multi-storeyed homes.

Admittedly, our definition of "old" is a little different than a Parisian's, but old for Australia anyway. 

There are narrow streets and laneways, with cars parked very close together.  Despite parking being sometimes difficult here, Paddington drivers haven't yet resorted to the Parisian habit of touch parking, for which our car bumper bars are daily grateful.

People have dogs who, like Parisian dogs, have learnt to relieve themselves on footpaths. Since I walk to do my grocery shopping (like many Parisians), that Paddington dog owners tend to clean up after their dogs more often than Parisians means that I only have to navigate the tree root lumpy footpaths, without also having to constantly dodge doggy done-it. My feet and the wheels of my beautiful orange granny trolley say "Dog owners, thank you!".

Like Parisians, people in Paddington ride bikes.  Even though this bike was parked outside Thomas Dux while its rider was inside, quite possibly buying bread, I haven't yet seen anyone in Paddington riding a bike with a fresh baguette under their arm. And Paddington cyclists tend to wear bike helmets, which are unheard of in Paris (or at least they were when I was there, scaring myself by cycling around the very busy Place de la Bastille). A bike helmet would ruin one's coiffure, after all!

There are stylish women (think Oxford Street), French restaurants (think L'Etoile

and Vamps at the Five Ways) and lots of cafes. Paddington definitely shares Paris' coffee culture. At those cafes, people eat outside, on the footpaths, sometimes even sitting on cute wicker chairs at white linen tableclothed tables!

 

Like Paris, the shops in Paddington are small, interesting and open on to the streets, not housed in large, bland, homogenous shopping centres.

People speak French.

Ok, some of us are learning to; those who actually speak French are probably not Paddington Francophiles like me, but actually French. I have a tradesman called Jean-Claude, with a delicious French accent.








There's even a shop called Paris in Paddington!

Can any of my followers suggest other examples of how Paddington is like Paris?

On a final note, this Paddington Francophile is actually taking herself off to France (and one or two other parts of Europe) for two months. I will look for things in Europe that remind me of Paddington so that I can blog about those. Otherwise, I look forward to being back blogging in and about Paddington in mid-October.

So, where do you do your shopping?

Most Sydneysiders would probably think of Paddington as synonymous with shopping. Picture women in "street style" fashion, wandering along Oxford Street, arms laden with glossy carrier bags.

With that image in mind, you might wonder why, since I moved to Paddington, every single one of my female friends has asked me "So, where do you do your shopping?". Of course, they're not picturing glossy carrier bags containing the latest designer fashion. No, they're picturing something a little more mundane - plastic or "green" bags filled with groceries. Think shallots not shoes; sweet potato not sweaters; detergent not dresses; carrots not carats. Indeed, this necessary shopping question was one I asked myself before moving here.

Since, everyone (well the women, anyway) has asked, I'll give you all an answer. As I say in my profile one of the pre-moving-here things I knew about Paddington was that parking is difficult. With that in mind, I decided I would want to do as many as possible of my regular chores on foot. That way I get the triple benefits of not stressing myself out looking for a park, adding some incidental exercise into my day, and getting to see more of my new suburb, all at the same time. So, to do (most of) my shopping I use this

and these .



When I told my daughter I was buying a "granny trolley" to do my groceries, she was horrified, saying "Oh mum, you can't possibly use a granny trolley in Paddington!", in her most derisive tone of voice. I know she was just concerned to make sure I didn't embarrass myself by being too daggy in front of my Paddington neighbours. But, she needn't have worried. While it wouldn't be fair to say that everyone has one, granny trolleys are nevertheless common, well-accepted shopping equipment in Paddington, and by no means daggy. They gain extra kudos by having the "green" benefit of allowing you to do your shopping without using a single grocery bag, plastic or otherwise.

I then had to decide where I would take my beautiful orange granny trolley. When we bought our terrace, we saw a building at the end of our street emblazoned with the words "IGA Opening Soon". Their definition of soon and mine must be a little different, because eight months later it's still not open. Never mind. There is an IGA on Oxford Street, but it's down the other end of Oxford Street to me and, truthfully, I haven't been inside it yet. Nor have I found a large grocery store in Paddington.

There is, however, a Thomas Dux at the Five Ways, about a seven minute walk for myself and my trolley.

Five Ways' Thomas Dux supplies most of my fruit, veg, dairy, bread, eggs, etc. Meat might come from Thomas Dux or the wholesale butcher conveniently located in my own street about two minutes' walk away. To date, fish has been lovingly hand caught in Darwin by my best friend and her husband, and brought down for my freezer. Sometimes I will venture across to the Entertainment Quarter markets at Moore Park for organic fruit and veg. I haven't yet walked there, but I should give it a go; I expect it would take about half an hour, so no buying anything too perishable then walking home on a hot summer's day.

The rest of the groceries, I have to admit, take me out of Paddington, usually in my car. Depending on my mood and what else I might be doing this might involve Coles at Edgecliff, Coles at Kings Cross (a truly interesting experience), or Woolworths at Woolloomooloo, Double Bay or Bondi Junction. As with so many of my new neighbourhood discoveries, I'm enjoying finding my way around and creating new grocery shopping habits for myself.

It's a community!

We moved to Paddington from Waverton, using the Sydney Harbour Bridge to cross not only water, but what Sydneysiders seem to think of as a huge cultural divide. I grew up in Canberra and even before moving to Sydney in my early teens I had heard of the Shire, the north shore, the eastern suburbs and westies. Somehow, back then, I got the impression that those geographic divides were almost impermeable. My whole Sydney life I had lived on the north shore - Castlecrag, Roseville, Lindfield, Pymble, then Waverton. I even went to university at Macquarie and worked for two years at Frenchs Forest. Not surprisingly, I came to think of myself as a "north shore girl". To emphasise the impermeability of the geographic divide, one of my north shore girl friends actually brings her Passport when she now comes to visit.

Not only did I think of myself as a north shore girl, but I'd always thought of the eastern suburbs as somewhere trendy, for which I was perhaps too staid and conservative. Indeed, I once dated someone who lived in Bondi who told me I was too "middle class, north shore mum, suburban" for the east. (He didn't get many more dates!) Then, having become empty nesters at the ripe old age of 37, my husband and I did start to spend more time over east - especially at our favourite restaurant or driving across for a weekend breakfast or chartering a yacht from Rushcutters Bay. However, it still didn't occur to me that we could live here because I was a north shore, not an eastern suburbs girl. These doubts were actually strengthened by a condescending attitude of some of the real estate agents I met while looking at eastern suburbs terraces. Ironically, the one with the most condescending attitude actually pointed me in the direction of the fabulous terrace we ultimately bought. She was here on the auction day and her condescension miraculously disappeared at about the time the auctioneer's hammer fell and our deposit cheque was signed.

But having bought the terrace and committed to making the cultural shift across the bridge, would we fit in? Or had we just made a huge, expensive mistake?

So far, the answer to "do we fit in" is a resounding "yes". The Paddington locals I have met are not at all condescending, but extremely welcoming, delighted to find people who want to share in the great things about living in their suburb. (I rather suspect that the condescending real estate agent actually doesn't live here.)

Not only are the locals welcoming, but they're friendly. At Waverton we lived in an apartment building with some 60 or so apartments spread over 6 floors. Despite such a plethora of neighbours literally living under the same roof, people rarely spoke to one another, often not even a greeting or acknowledgment in the lift. I recalled my Canberra childhood where we played with the other kids in the street, went freely in and out of each others' houses, and my parents chatted to our neighbours over the back fence. I had come to assume that that sort of community feel had disappeared along with black and white TVs and men in tight polyester shirts, never to return. (I certainly hope so in the case of tight, shiny polyester shirted men!)

How wrong I was! On our first day in Paddington, as we were moving in, our neighbour welcomed us from across the back fence. Later, his wife brought a home made cake to our housewarming. The couple who own the coffee shop up the road have introduced us to other neighbours. And so it has gone on. I am now on smiling, waving, stopping to chat in the street terms with more people in my local community than I have been since I was about 10. It's not intrusive; I don't have to talk to people if I don't want to and they don't have to know all my business. But it feels nice and homey.

So, one of the first things I learnt about Paddington? It's not just a trendy suburb, it's a community!

Paddington's boundaries

Before moving to Paddington I knew, of course, that it is one of Sydney's inner eastern suburbs, about 3kms from the Sydney CBD. However, while I had a vague idea about the extent of Paddington, I wasn't sure. So, the first thing I wanted to find out about Paddington was its boundaries - exactly which parts of my local area are "Paddington" and which aren't. Surprisingly, this proved to be a little more difficult than I'd anticipated. I tried the Woollahra Council website, the Department of Lands and some other government sources, hoping for a definitive map of suburb boundaries, all to no avail. Perhaps one is out there, but I couldn't find it.

Ultimately, I had to revert to my hard copy Sydway street directory (does anyone actually use these in their cars anymore?). Sydway tells me that Paddington is the area enclosed by Neild Avenue, Boundary Street and South Dowling Street (making the border with Darlinghurst to the west), Moore Park Road (bordering, of course, Moore Park to the south), Jersey Road (to the east, bordering Woollahra) and Trumper Park and the White City tennis centre (making the border with Edgecliff and Rushcutters Bay to the north).

With Paddington's geographic limits in mind, I can start my explorations.