Paris - Day Five

Today was my last full day in Paris for this trip. And to be honest....I'm a little glad to be moving on.

I started with breakfast on the steps of the Charles Garnier Opera House. Paris has some beautiful buildings, but this is my favourite. It's such a social meeting place as well. More on that later. Back to breakfast. There is a little patisserie en route to the metro station from where I am staying. Every morning there is the most heavenly aroma emulating from the place. They also have yogurt with fresh fruit, and I travel with a spoon in my hand bag. Yes, that's right. I bring my very own spoon. If I'm going to be eating decadent European pastries and custards, I'm going to be doing it with a proper spoon; not a cheap plastic throw-away thing. Call it my good deed for Mother Earth. Anyway, I sat in the sun on the steps, enjoying my fresh pain au chocolate and my wonderful yogurt and watching the morning traffic and people on bicycles and scooters zipping in and out of traffic and was very glad I had no specific place to be.

I headed over to the Jardin des Tuileries to go to the Musée de l'Orangerie. The main attraction in this museum are the Claude Monet Water Lilies murals. These are so beautiful and so grandiose. There are two large rooms, and the murals are displayed four per room. The individual panels measure about eight feet high by ten feet across, and these individual panels are joined either in threes or fours to form the larger murals and displayed on curved walls so that you have a complete surround of these magnificent colours and reflections.

Claude Monet's Les Nympheas - not my photo, photo source - Wikipedia

The museum also houses a grand collection of impressionist and post-impressionist masters including works by Paul Cézanne, Henri Matisse, Pablo Picasso, Pierre Auguste-Renoir, Henry Rousseau, Alfred Sisley and Chaum Soutine.

No photography is allowed, but some people either didn't see the multitude of signs or perhaps thought the signs were meant for everyone else except for them. Either way, people were taking pictures.

Here is my thing about taking pictures in museums. If you are visiting a museum and all you do is walk around and take quick snapshots of the most famous works, then you are not really seeing the museum, let alone the art. Stay home. Google online and download pictures from there. They will be better quality and you will save not only your entrance fee into the museum, but your airfare and hotel costs as well.

I can't tell you how many times I've seen people SNEAKING pictures on their iPhones, pretending to be checking their Facebook status (come on, really? Monet's masterpiece is in front of you and you need to check and see what Betty had for breakfast?). It's distracting. I'm there to enjoy the art and understand the expression from the artist. I like to look at the work from across the room, from a couple feet away, then up close so I can see the brush strokes. Then back to across the room. I look at the work straight-on, then slightly off to the side to see if the perspective changes. Essentially, it takes me a good five minutes to completely appreciate a piece if I am really enjoying it. One does not truly enjoy Monet's Les Nymphéas at drive-by-mock-speed, or on a five inch iPhone screen on the plane ride home.

That being said, I have taken a number of pictures of artworks I want to research more when I am home. But only in museums where photos are permitted. And only once I have thoroughly enjoyed the piece in person, both up close and from afar.

And people can be blatantly rude about their right to take pictures in a NO PHOTOGRAPHY zone.

After spending a good three hours in the Musée de l'Orangerie, I headed over to the Musée d'Orsay. This museum is housed in the old Gare d'Orsay (train station), and as such has a wonderful glass ceiling to let in plenty of natural light. The center of the museum hosts all kinds of marble sculptures, while the side rooms are dark and house the painted works. Again, there is no photography allowed.

Renoir's Bal du moulin de la Galette, photo source - Wikipedia

So I'm admiring Renoir's Bal du Moulin de la Galette and all its intricacies when a woman came up and pretty much elbowed her way in front of me to take a picture with her iPad (her iPad!, not even a discreet phone!), and then elbow her way out. As she's turning to leave I quietly said, "You know we aren't allowed to take any pictures, right?" To which she replies,"Who are you, the photo police? Mind your own business!" I guess she has a point, I should mind my own business. But still, pretty ballsy.

And I think people believe that their taking pictures isn't hurting anyone. What they probably don't understand is that in the long run, it does. The paintings are displayed in low, filtered light since exposure to light breaks down the colour pigment in the paint. If everyone were to constantly be pointing their cameras and iPhones at the paintings, over time even those brief exposures will cause the paintings and tapestries to deteriorate. Yes, it will take time, but it is possible that we may not have these great works in the future based on how they are treated today. This is one of the reasons the Mona Lisa is behind thick, anti-glare, light filtering glass. Too many cameras shoved in her face.

Okay, enough of that rant.

After close to six hours in museums, it was time to refuel. Now when travelling, it is hard to always stick to a healthy diet. Often, you need to eat the local delicacies, and today that meant a crepe. A warm, hot-off-the-grill-Nutella-and-banana-crepe. And oh my! This was amazingly good. And huge. And filling. But definitely worth it.

Now I needed to walk off some of that crepe. I ended up walking through Paris side streets with a more-or-less general idea which way I was heading but with no real destination in mind. Which, in the end after about two hours, got me a little turned around. Okay, okay...lost. Along the way though I found a wonderful cathedral that I plan to visit next time in Paris, Église Saint-Augustin de Paris. Now that it was getting dark, it was time to start heading back toward the city center. A quick enquiry and I was heading in the right direction.

Ever have that feeling when you have been walking and walking and all the buildings start to look alike, so then all the streets start to look alike...and it's starting to rain and you're getting cold and tired and just want to sit? That was me today by 8pm. Six hours of museums, rude photo paparazzi, and three hours of solid walking meant the day was starting to wear me down.

Then I caught this amazing smell. Warm, savoury smell. A little restaurant with a man in his forties behind a bar. He came to the door to greet me and brought me in to a table. I ordered shrimp and avocado salad to start, then duck confit for my main course. And of course wine. A nice Bordeaux. Dessert was crème brûlée. Definitely one of the best meals I've had in Paris. I couldn't finish my wine so they let me take it with me with a plastic cup. We looked at my map, and in broken English and my passable French, we were able to determine which metro station I could take. I was on my way again.

I'm supposed to be heading home, right? WRONG! While walking, I suddenly found myself at the Moulin Rouge. Well, why not go in and enjoy a show? The night was young. Tomorrow I could sleep on the train, right? And while I did enjoy the show, I will say that the one at Crazy Horse was better. This one was too....touristy maybe? That is all.

Okay, one last look at the Eiffel Tower all lit up and sparkly and it's time to head home.....

No wait! There was a flash mob dance group on the steps of the Charles Garnier Opera House. My day has come full circle and I am back exactly where I started it with breakfast. Except now I am drinking wine out of a plastic cup and watching 40 people dance to "Blame it on the Boogie" by Jackson 5.

It's been an amazing time in Paris (despite the awful apartment), but tomorrow I will leave and take the train to Italy. So for now I will say, "À bientôt Paris! À la prochaine!"

Paris - Day Four

Day Four in Paris.

Today I had to be up relatively early (for vacation anyhow) I had an important visit to a VERY big name fashion house today. Can't say who, can't name any names. Couldn't take any pictures. But let's just say it gave me A NEW LOOK to fashion. And you're pretty smart cookies to figure this out anyhow.

Avenue Montaigne is such an unassuming street. There are no big flashy signs to advertise what's going on inside all the orderly apartment blocks. To discover this, you need to look up. Because it is here, in these pretty but relatively unmarked buildings that the haute couture of haute couture is being assembled. All the big French fashion houses are here, but you pretty much need to look to find them. Sure, there is also a store on the street level, but it is often not directly under the design studios. Case in point is House of Dior. The beautiful showroom store is located about 10 doors up the street from the actual Dior Accademy. And the doors to the Accademy are very plain, no signage, no big fan fair. And then to make matters a bit more confusing, the signs that are visible are for the showroom for Louis Vuitton. It's when you look up that you see where the magic happens.

You can just make out the little Dior banners on each of the windows, and the bigger, more prominent Louis Vuitton in the main floor windows.

If you are even remotely interested in seeing what goes on inside a top fashion house, well I'm sorry to say that I can't provide you with any pictures from my visit. Everything is ultra-uber secure. Lots of men in dark suits and earpieces and talking into their cuff links. But there is an amazing video for the costruction from beginning to end of Dior's iconic red coat dress from Spring/Summer 2011, part of John Galliano's last collection with Dior.

I can't tell you how many times I have watched this video. The process, the cutting, the hand stitching, the pressing, the trimming, the beading....the amount of hours going into producing one single garment. And keep in mind, there are usually 30 to 40 looks in any given haute couture show.

It was indeed an eye-opener and a full day of learning. Thoroughly impressed and completely re-thinking (well, almost) how I want to design from the inside out, it was time to move on. This of course meant more walking around.

From Avenue Montaigne I kind of did a big loop. I walked down the Avenue des Champs Élysées towards the Jardin des Tuileries, then through the gardens and around the fountains to the Place de Carrousel and sat and watched a man with six frisbees and a dozen dogs. This was actually quite entertaining. Dogs of all sizes vying for six frisbees which were constantly being thrown and retrieved. Turns out people pay him to exercise their dogs. Kinda like boot camp for dogs. Dogs get dropped off in the morning, they spend the day doing whatever dogs do at a doggie daycare, and then towards late afternoon, this guy takes them all to the park where they chase frisbees until their owners come to collect them.

After the dogs, I walked over to Pont des Arts. This is the famed bridge where lovers go and proclaim their ever lasting love by attaching a padlock to the bridge. There are actually two bridges in Paris with locks on them, so you have to be careful which bridge you attach your lock.

Pont des Arts is for committed love, while Pont de l'Archevêché is for your lover. Don't get the two mixed up ! Sad news is that Paris will soon remove the locks from Pont des Arts and replace the railings with glazed panels. The weight of all the padlocks has been deemed unsafe for the structure of the bridge.

From there I walked along the Siene to a place called Flow. It is essentially a concrete beach. Beach chairs are set up along the Siene, and you go up to the counter and order your wine or champagne or beer or whatever, along with some pâté, bread and olives and then take it back to your little "beach spot" and have a little feast. It actually made a lot of sense, looked pretty cool and was very popular. I had seen this place just in passing the past couple days, and it is busy from about 3pm regardless which day of the week. Across from Flow is a barge / boat that has been converted into a happy hour hang out. Rosa Bonheur sur Siene, which I guess COULD be translated to Pink Happy Hour on the Siene; and that would make sense. However, Rosa Bonheur was the first well-known female animal-painter (or animalière), realist artist and sculpture of the 19th century.

What was interesting to note was that there wasn't a huge display of cell phones or other distractions. People were there to converse with each other. I saw a group of five or six young dads; all with baby strollers, and a collection of Heinekens on the bench between them. And this seemed somehow normal. Wife says "take Junior for a walk"; husband calls up buddies and says, "Lets meet down by the river". There is no meeting up in sports bars over loud music.

I continued my walking over to Pont Alexandre III, then through narrow side streets where I found a little French bakery (boulangerie). Bought a couple pastries, then walked over to the Eiffel Tower to watch the sun set. I wasn't planning on going up the tower; for €30 it just doesn't seem worth it. Not to mention that the line-up to go up the tower was exceedingly long. Always is. Estimated wait time today was three hours. No thank-you. Instead, I took my pastries over to a little space of lawn across the bridge and enjoyed a nice view and sun set.

Dinner was at Chez Francis. Here's the one thing I don't like about travelling on my own, and I have found to be especially true in Paris. Servers in Europe do not like solo diners. They somehow believe that a single diner is going to be cheap. But from what I understand, servers in Europe are paid a decent hourly wage from the gratuities already included in the bill. And here's the funny thing about me when I eat out: I ain't cheap. I usually have three courses and at least one glass of wine; sometimes a bottle which I take the remainder with me. I average between €75 and €100 if I am having a proper sit-down meal. So while the food was mediocre (steak lacked flavour, not enough bernaise), the service really killed the experience. I was brought water I didn't want and then charged €7 for it. Bread and the first course where put on the table without any comment from the waiter. My main course was put down in front of me with no cutlery. My wine was delivered with the waiter holding the top rim of the glass instead of the stem. The dessert was missing components. Essentially, I was made to feel like I was bothering the waiter by being there, that serving me was a hassle. This feeling was compounded by the table next to me who I gathered were regulars. They were fawned over. They were bought complimentary this and complimentary that; there were long discussions with the wait staff and the manager about this and that (remember, I speak both English and French, so I understood what was going on). It became rather awkward.

When my bill arrived, I was asked if everything was okay. I said no it wasn't and explained why (the water I didn't ask for, the dessert being incomplete). The waiter then says "So everything is good?". No, I just told you it wasn't. "But it's okay, oui?". Sigh, shake my head and leave. French service my buttocks!

The restaurant does have a great view of the Eiffel Tower, and is close to another Paris landmark - The Crazy Horse. What a great show. The show was more about lighting and shadows and optical illusions. You think you're seeing one thing but it's the reflection of something else. It was really, really well done. Sure, there was nudity, but it wasn't so in-your-face like a lot of North American cabaret shows tend to be. The cabaret has been open since 1961, and has hosted famous performers such as Dita Von Teese, Arielle Dombasle and Pamela Anderson.

After the champagne show, I walked back up to the Arc de Triomphe. This time my pictures turned out okay. After watching the twelve lanes of traffic miraculously merge in and out around the monument, it was time to head home. Big long day, and another one on the way tomorrow.

Apartment in Paris and the Unwelcome Guests

Here are some pictures of the place I am staying in while in Paris. Lots of rustic charm and away from the busy city centre. Peaceful, comfortable, inviting....seems like a great place to spend a few days.

rustic kitchen....lots of wood cabinets

living room and stair leading up to the loft

living room with lots and lots of books .....in French

Unfortunately, this is where the charm ends. I woke up the first morning with one arm covered in mosquito bites. The arm that was sticking out from the covers. Six bites. I also have three on my neck and two on my left foot. Between the toes no less (those freaky-fetish mosquitoes!). So on the first night, a total of 11 bites. I even sprayed the bug spray that the host left in the apartment before I left for the evening and again when I came back, but it didn't seem to do any good.

And did I mention what time I woke up? 7:00am. Why? Because there is construction work being done on three sides of this apartment. Drilling concrete and pile-driving begins at 7:00am. No mention of this by the owner or website when I booked (then again, no mention about the mosquitoes when I booked either).

The second day I woke up with more bites on my neck and throat. Today is day three and I finally had to go to a pharmacy and get some antihistamine tablets because the bites are swelling up into raised welts about an inch in diameter. It's pretty awful. People are looking at me funny on the street, like I have Ebola or something. I'm also concerned because the welts on my neck are over top of my airway, and honestly...I like being able to breathe freely.

In total, I now have 17 bites and I have two more nights here. I have taken to completely spraying my arms, legs and neck before I go to sleep. I'm having trouble falling asleep because of a) the itching; and b) the thought that these little suckers are out to get me. Each time I start to drift off, my sub conscious thinks I'm getting another bite and I wake up swatting at my arms and and neck.

Then in the mornings, I need to shower because of the sticky spray. Oh wait, can't shower because the hot water tank is manual. After reading the French instructions a couple times and through trial and error, I finally figured out that I have to re-start the hot water tank in the kitchen cabinet, then wait 20 minutes for the water to heat. It is only a four gallon tank (think four plastic milk jugs), so each morning I need to make a choice: I can either wash my face and body in cold water while the water in the tank is heating, then wash my hair with the warm water (I have hair to almost my waist, so it takes a bit of water to wash), or I can heat the water, wash my face and body, then heat more water and wash my hair. Which means it takes at least an hour to do both. I guess I could boil pots of water on the stove, but I shouldn't have to be messing with this. The shower set up is a bit wonky too. The shower head is on a hose that you hold; there isn't a hook or a place to hang it up (that I can find). Which means you either have to do everything one-handed, or just scrap that idea and opt for a sponge bath out of the sink. So far, I wash my face and body quickly in the ice cold water and throw my hair up into a pony tail. I'm on vacation.

The water problem I can deal with, though this really shouldn't even be an issue. If I am paying any kind of money to rent a place, I should be comfortable, right? I mean, I'm not asking too much, am I?

Time to get out and forget about this place for a couple hours. Or look for another place to stay.

Paris - Day Two

Today is my first full day in Paris for this trip. Not a whole lot on the agenda today, except to go see the Sacré Coeur (Sacred Heart) Basilica.

La Basilique du Sacré Coeur de Montmartre is a Roman Catholic church that sits at the height of an isolated hill and is the highest point in the city of Paris. The now-popular landmark was designed by Paul Abadie in 1870 and construction began in 1875. After Abadie's death in 1884, a team of five architects continued his design and the final stones were placed in 1914. Which the impending war, the minor basilica was consecrated at the end of World War I in 1919; by which time the public acceptance of the church shifted from a political and religious one (in 1873 the Archbishop of Paris, by approving its construction specified it was to "expiate the crimes of the Commune"), to more of a monument of dedication to honour the 58,000 men and women who lost their lives during the war.

Sacré Coeur is built out of travertine stone. The stone exudes calcite, which keeps the monument looking white even through weathering and pollution.

There is a funicular that you can take from the metro station up the hill to the top, but I decided to just walk it. Many, many steps. 270 steps. But the views are fantastic. You can also take MORE steps up to the top of the dome, but it will cost you €8. I was okay with skipping the extra hike and decided to instead wander around the basilica and then through the narrow streets of Montmartre.

Montmartre is famous for its many artists' studios and craft boutiques. There are a number of side walk cafés and street artists; but beware - the streets are very narrow and the cars passing by do not tend to slow down. Several famous artists have worked in or around Montmartre because of low rent (at the time) and a combined artistic atmosphere; including Salvador Dali, Claude Monet, Pablo Picasso, Camille Pissarro and Vincent van Gogh. There is a Salvador Dali museum (Espace Dali) which unfortunately was closed during my visit. I guess it just leaves something for me to visit on my next trip.

Because of its elevation, Montmartre has a series of steep stairs with wrought iron railings and lamp posts. You may recognize the scenery from popular movies such as An American in Paris, Amélie, Moulin Rouge, and La Vie en Rose.

It's interesting how sometimes in our rush to get to the main attraction, we overlook or even miss great scenes and fantastic reminders of everyday life and the incredible opportunities we have. An example of this is the old carousel at the bottom of the stairs before heading up to the monument. Many pass it by without even a second glance. But it was fun to sit and watch the old horses turn round and round, and how delighted the little girls were to ride the pink ponies and the boys to climb up high on those black stallions. It also gave me a breather after climbing up and down all those stairs. You may remember this carousel from the movie Amélie, as mentioned above. In the movie, this is the scene where she returns the scrapbook to Nino.

I found out that carousels were created as a result of tragedy. King Henry II was killed in a jousting accident, and so safer practices for tournaments were created. Thus, a "carrousel" refers to a type of military dressage. Originally, there were a series of metal rings that the knight must spear with his lance. Overtime, this evolved into a turning platform, and the rings were placed at varying intervals to increase difficulty. The knight would hook the rings onto his lance as he came around, and the rings were replaced by a servant so that they would be in position for the next time. The speed of the turning platform could then be altered in speed until the knight was no longer able to capture all the rings. For the birth of the Dauphin in 1662, Louis the XVI held a carousel festival with true fanfare. Over 15,000 guests came to watch knights participate in the tournaments. But it must have been some party, because even today, the location is known as Place du Carrousel.

After wandering the streets below Montmartre for a bit and picking up a few trinkets to bring back home, it was time head home to get ready for my sunset dinner cruise on the Seine.

Paris - Day One

Today is Day One of my travels. Well, technically, it's Day Two because I left Vancouver at 10:35am on September 29, but with time zones I arrived in Paris at 8:35am on September 30th, even though my flight was only 9 hours long. Oh, and the 2 hour stop in Seattle. Where I got a manicure at Butter London. Fantastic way to spend you time in an airport waiting for your next flight.

So now I am all checked in to my apartment in Paris. The place is charming, but very rustic. It is an old stone building with a post and beam ceiling. The apartment has two floors. To get into the apartment, there are four flights of stairs. No elevator. I think it used to be an barn or store house for grain and such. Anyhow, yes...it's very rustic. The bathroom does lack all the North American niceties, and the shower will get some getting used to.

I'm staying three stops outside the city, so a little quieter than being directly in the center of the city. Not to mention cheaper. Hopefully it will be a nice stay.

After a short nap to shake off the time change, I decided to take the metro and see some of the monuments at night. This is my second visit to Paris, and I've told myself that this visit would be different. Last visit, I made sure I was back to my B&B by 9pm and I didn't venture much off the predicable trail of tourist attractions. This time is more about seeing the actual city, and not just for the monuments and standard vacation snapshots.

Having said that, I knew that I wanted to stand on the Pont Alexandre III and the watch the Tour Eiffel all lit up and sparkling. It's something I actually didn't see last time. And I wanted to have tarte tartin and wine in Cafe Marly, which is in the courtyard of the Louvre. It's pricey, but it's also the place to be seen in Paris. Well, one of the places anyhow.

It was now 11pm and the cafe was still quite busy. Bottle of champagne (and I mean the good stuff) were being opened left and right. I decided to stick with a little Sancerre and my apple tarte tartin and just take in the scene and the people out having a good time on a Tuesday night.

After wandering around the Louvre courtyard for a little while and sitting by the reflecting pools, it was time for home (well, home for the next few days). The metro at night is a very interesting place. In our train car there was an accordion player, playing French folk songs. He also had a little dog with big liquid eyes that walked around the train with a little basket in its mouth, begging for coins. It was quite cute....except maybe for the accordion playing at near midnight.

Tomorrow will be another day walking around this beautiful city.

Quelle belle vie, non?