On Monday, October 13th I got up early and took the metro to Bastille, and then changed to the #8 line and went near the end of the line to Créteil-University stop.  I was off to explore the islands of Créteil as described in Annabel Simms book, "An Hour From Paris."  As I got off the metro I promptly took a wrong turn and got lost.  May I say that the suburb of Créteil is not overwhelmingly charming--at least in the area of the University--which I explored rather thoroughly, refusing to admit that I was lost or had read the directions wrongly.  I was surrounded by traffic and lots of modern, concrete buildings--very 60's style.

I cursed poor Annabel for her poor directions for about 20 minutes as I backtracked to the station, where I realized that I had gone the wrong way on Rue des Mèches.  I corrected myself and walked more carefully following Ms. Simms' directions.  Along the way, she mentions a small park surrounding a mansion once owned by a doctor who developed some famous digestive tablets.  I decided to take a few minutes to explore the Parc Dupeyroux.  I was entranced.  This would make the entire journey worthwhile all by itself!  It's not such a small park--8 or 9 acres.  It's history began in the 17th century and ownership has passed through many hands (including a duke and the church, as well as Dr. Dupeyroux) and it was turned into an English-style garden.  Sometime in the late 1950's or early 60's, it became the property of the suburb of Créteil and a public park.

It was exciting to find an art installation (left over from a September celebration I think).  Something to do with sitting and enjoying the park?

 There is a "Stonehenge" flavor to these I think.

 This one looks like it was blown over in the wind recently.

 My favorite, I think.

 And of course, there were more traditional places to rest--and  I did.

The English-style gardens were lovely--I think we should turn our backyard into something like this--what do you think Mary?

 And in addition, there is a mansion and a fountain and a view between the trees.

Another 10-15 minutes of walking brought me to an older neighborhood along the Rue du Moulin

and down to the riverside where I turned right on Chemin du Bras du Chapitre
and walked along the River Marne.

 Such a beautiful river view with weeping willows and a sense of serenity.

 I stopped to look at #13 where Victor Hugo lived in the time when it was an inn and where he wrote the poem, The Washerwoman.  During the latter part of World War II, it was also a home for the Resistance, and it's chicken yard concealed a radio that was used to communicate with London.

Then across a stone bridge to the Ile Ste. Catherine.  And from there across another small bridge onto the Ile des Ravageurs and a tiny park.

Then back across the little footbridge to the Ile Ste. Catherine and a walk down the main Avenue des Peupliers.  The view unfortunately was just houses with a very occasional glimpse of the river.  I had expected a little village with a tabac, a café perhaps, a post office--but the island (with the exception of a restaurant) was entirely residential.  And, I think, no poor people live here.

BUT, as I walked across another footbridge to the Ile Guyère, there were . . .

 Swans!

 An adolescent cygnet

 and his parents on either side.

And perhaps this is the last rose of summer?

Adieu jusqu'à demain and another adventure