Au Revoir, Paris

Our last full day in Paris--a cool, cloudy Sunday with brief spurts of rain--was very much like our first one just 28 days ago. Our plan for the day was to soak up as much Parisian ambiance as possible, which meant strolling east along the banks of the Seine toward Notre Dame, stopping for lunch in a café, and combing the streets of our St. Germain neighborhood one last time. At Notre Dame we lit a candle for our two-day-old grandson, Patrick, in a side chapel dedicated to St. Etienne (a very fitting chapel indeed: Etienne translates to Steven, which is Patrick's middle name and his grandfather's name). After lunch we returned to St. Germain to check out the grounds of the École des Beaux Arts and engage in a little lèche-vitrine (window-licking) of the boutiques and galleries. Although we knew the neighborhood far better than we did one month ago, we still got turned around trying to find the Delacroix Museum, which is tucked away in a little square just a few blocks north of the Boulevard St. Germain.

A little footsore from all the walking, we returned to our apartment to pack our bags, then went out at the unheard-of hour of 5:30 to have dinner at Léon de Bruxelles, our favorite place for moules-frites. Our table looked directly onto the Boulevard St. Germain, and I'm certain I saw Clint Eastwood walk by as I was pulling a mussel from its shell.

Knowing that our airport shuttle would pick us up at 5:15 a.m. the next morning, we went to bed early with memories of our dream time in the world's most beautiful city soothing us into a peaceful night's sleep. À la prochaine, Paris!

Passages

Today we set out to explore the passages of Paris--the covered alleyways built in the 1800s that, according to the Michelin Guide, "were once popular shopping and meeting places where Parisians could stroll peacefully and at a safe distance from the many horses in the streets." The ones we saw today are clustered in an area north of the Louvre, in the 1st and 9th arrondisements. Most of the passages declined in popularity in the 20C, but some have been restored and are now enjoying a revival of sorts. Walking through the arcades today gave us a feeling for turn-of-the-century Paris, and we, too, enjoyed being at a safe distance from motorbikes and tour buses.

The first passage we walked through was the Passage Verdeau, which had a large antique shop and seconhand bookshops:

From there we crossed directly into the Passage Jouffroy, the first arcade to be heated. Hotel Chopin anchors one end of the passage:

Once outside, we crossed the street and entered the Passage des Panoramas, built in 1800:

We liked the Panoramas' little restaurants and cozy ambience:
The last one we walked through was the Galerie Vivienne, which is said to be the most elegant of the city's passages (we thought it was a little too snooty):

Why French Women Don't Get Fat

It must be because they smoke, walk their dogs at all hours, eat rare biftek with salade instead of frites, and actually heed the advice that accompanies every food and drink ad in France: don't snack between meals; it's dangerous to eat too much fat, salt, and sugar; regular exercise leads to better health.

Obviously they don't have the same diet as a certain American tourist, who drinks two large hot chocolates in a day, one with a Gibraltar-sized hunk of whipped cream, the other so thick (à l'ancienne) that the spoon stands straight up in the cup. They don't eat huge buttery croissants every day for breakfast or order giant chicken-tomato-mayo sandwiches on a freshly baked sesame seed baguette for lunch. They couldn't possibly have three flavors of gelato for a mid-afternoon snack, accompanied by dark-chocolate truffles or mouth-watering macaroons. And I'm certain that they don't have eggplant caviar and fresh goat cheese on crackers along with their late-afternoon kir. Their dinners must not feature homemade fettucine with garlic and cream sauce followed by giant hot-fudge sundaes.

Or maybe they do eat the same food as a blimped-out American tourist but share half of it with their dogs. Come to think of it, we do see lots of plump little chiens in our neighborhood.

Hot on the Trail

We went from shivering at bus stops to sweltering on the pavement--Paris weather did an about-face that took us by surprise. We were eager for warm weather, but we'd forgotten how hard it is to be intrepid tourists on a really hot day. The météo said the heat and humidity wouldn't last long, but meanwhile we knew we had to find a way to enjoy the city without collapsing in a sweaty heap. Steve suggested that we keep cool by returning to Pere-Lachaise Cemetery where we could try to locate the tomb of François-Joseph LeFebvre, one of Napoleon's generals who, according to LaFave family lore, is the fam's most illustrious ancestor. We bought a map of the cemetery at a newsstand outside the gates, but it only listed the most famous of the hundreds of politicians, writers, musicians, artists, and other celebrities buried there. Fortunately the cemetery's office was open, and with the help of a friendly government worker (the cemetery is under the purview of the Paris municipal government), we were able to pinpoint the exact location of Maréchal LeFebvre's tomb. We decided that the best way to prove the family connection was to have Steve pose next to the alleged ancestor's bronze bust and compare facial features. Our conclusion? If Steve shaved his beard, he could pass for François-Joseph's hotter younger brother.

A Typical Day

We wake up around 8, take showers, and Steve goes out to the bakery for croissants. When he returns we have a breakfast of hot chocolate, yogurt, fresh fruit, and croissants with jam. After breakfast I plan the day's itinerary, which might include a museum and/or a stroll through a far-flung neighborhood. Lunch can be a sandwich on a park bench or a salad in a café. Today followed the usual pattern: by subway to the Champs-Elysées to see the Biodiversity Festival, again on the subway to the Jacquemart-Andrée Museum, on foot to Monceau Park (crêpes from the concession stand for lunch), and home by subway. We check email until 5 o'clock or so, and then we start the evening with kir (white wine and crème de cassis) and little nibbles--olives and crackers with tapenade or eggplant caviar. Dinner is sometimes at home, sometimes at a nearby restaurant. If we eat at home, we assemble our meal from the deli at Monoprix or one of the traiteurs at the Marché Saint-Germain. If we're in a more festive mood, we'll go to one of our three favorite restaurants: Lyon de Bruxelles for moules frites, Golfe de Napoli for pizza, or La Crêperie des Cannettes. We always order a pichet of wine, never a bottle--it's very good and saves beaucoup d'argent. At home, though, we drink Bordeaux from the supermarket; it costs less than $10 a bottle and is better than any wine we've ever had anywhere. If only we had enough room in our suitcases to bring home a case or two! After dinner we improve our listening skills by watching French TV. Our favorites are the detective shows Une Femme d'Honneur and Alice Nevers: Le Juge est une Femme, both of which star fashionable, flirtatious, feisty French women solving grisly crimes. In fact, it's time for an episode of Alice Nevers now, so I'll have to go. À plus tard!

A Quiet Walk

Parisians have taken advantage of this three-day Pentecost weekend to head for other parts of the hexagon, and we lucky ones left behind have the city all to ourselves. Adding to the bliss of nearly traffic-free streets and easy-to-find seating at restaurants and cafés is the incredible weather: clear blue skies and temps in the low 80s. Today seemed like the ideal time to get out and enjoy the greenery of Paris before la grisaille descends again.

One thing I've wanted to do since seeing Julie Delpy and Ethan Hawke in Before Sunset is to walk along the Promenade Plantée, a two-mile long narrow stretch of parkland built on a former elevated rail bed. The entrance, which we located with the help of Rick Steves' Paris guidebook, is just past the Opera Bastille, up a hidden stairway behind a tall red brick wall. The Promenade was even prettier and more peaceful than we'd expected; even though we were only a few stories above street level, the city seemed to melt away. If not for the apartment buildings visible above the park's trees and hedges, we could have mistaken it for a country lane in Giverny.

The entrance:


One of the neighborhood buildings:



A strategically-placed bench:



A surprise along the way:

Posh Digs

Our dear landlords, Claude and Lucile, recently returned from a two-week trip to Turkey and wanted to get to know us a little better, so they invited us for tea and macaroons yesterday afternoon. Before the tea was served, however, they gave us a visite guidée of their apartment, which is one floor below ours. Their apartment is surprisingly small by American standards--about 1,000 square feet--but sits in the most expensive real estate area in all of France. The land on which it stands was purchased from the Catholic church in 1796; the Church was forced to pay taxes after the revolution and therefore had to sell many of its land holdings. A single-story dwelling was built by twenty-six families--including Claude's great-great-great-great grandfather, a baker--who planned to pool their money to add more stories in the future. Apparently that was easier said than done; only six of the original families were able to proceed. By 1806, each remaining family was struggling to afford the taxes and all were ordered by the court to put it up for auction. In those days, the method of auctioning required bids to be made as two candles were burning, and no bids were allowed after the second candle went out. By sheer luck, Claude's ancestor was the last and highest bidder, and the building was given to him. More floors were added over the next twenty years (the bakery must have prospered), reaching a final height of six stories. The floor in Claude's apartment dates back to the 1820s and is similar in style to the flooring at Versailles. Our apartment isn't nearly as elegant, but at least we can boast that we've got the swankiest address in France!

Ladies Gaga for Gardening

I convinced Steve to get up at the crack of dawn today so that he could be one of three men to join a few hundred middle-aged women--gardening genes fully activated--to make a pilgrimage to Monet's estate in Giverny. We were among the first to enter the garden on this gloriously sunny morning and were able to see the flowers at their best, with all but the water lilies in full bloom. Our favorite pictures from today include...

1) The front garden:


2) The water garden:


3)The Japanese bridge:

Despite all the people tramping through the estate, the gardens seemed tranquil, and there was plenty of elbow room as we moved from one area to another. It wasn't until we entered Monet's home that we felt the effects of several tour buses depositing their passengers in Giverny. It was a relief to get back outside, walk around the tiny country village, order lunch at a sandwicherie, and soak up the sun.

A Short but Perfect Day

We're about to go out to our favorite creperie for dinner, so this will be brief. Today we returned to Montmartre, and I was wrong; there's still a seamy side--we just didn't walk far enough down the boulevard de Clichy. We spent a short but fruitful time in lower Montmartre, first paying our respects to François Truffaut at the Montmartre Cemetery, then touring La Musée de la Vie Romantique (artist Ary Scheffer's former home, which showcases George Sand memorabilia and now has a show in honor of the 200th anniversary of Chopin's birth) where we had lunch in its flower-filled garden, a world away from the strip clubs and sex-toy shops a few blocks over.

The museum, where we learned about the origin of the "blue note" (George Sand and Delacroix used it to describe the magical relationship between color and sound) and saw a plaster cast of Chopin's right hand:

The garden where French ladies come to meet their friends and eat salad:

Here Comes the Sun

The weather has taken a turn for the better, so now it's time to get out and do some serious exploring on foot. We have a long list of neighborhoods we want to explore in the next twelve days, and the first on our list today was Montmartre. Of course we'd seen Sacré-Coeur from the Pompidou Center:

from the Arc de Triomphe:
and from Buttes-Chaumont Park:

Now we needed to see the cream-puff cathedral up close, so we climbed to the top of Montmartre where it was waiting patiently for us:


Along the way, we walked up and down many pretty little streets, and until we got to the very touristy place du Tertre, we felt that we'd been transported to a Provençal village. First there was the vineyard:


Next, the windmill:


And finally there was the little cafe on a cobblestone street:


Hard to believe that this was the seedy part of Paris we'd visited years before, sandwiched between sex shops and crumbling buildings. Like most of Paris inside the périphérique, the neighborhood has become gentrified, yuppified, spruced-up, and propre. Looks like we'll have to go to one of the banlieus to catch a glimpse of down-at-heel Paris.

Joyeux Anniversaire!

We just said our goodbyes to Lynne and Robert--they leave for the U.S. tomorrow. We had a wonderful time with them, especially last night during Lynne's birthday celebration at the Restaurant au Beaujolais. Steve and I had eaten there once before and had found the owner and waiters to be over-the-top hospitable and friendly, so we knew it would be a festive place for Lynne's 70th birthday dinner. For 18 euros (about $22) each, we had an appetizer, main course, and dessert. And of course there were pre-dinner drinks (kir), two bottles of Bordeaux red, and after-dinner liqueurs, but because we did our drinking over three hours, we were barely tipsy when we left the restaurant. When it was time to serve dessert, the owner put a candle on Lynne's crème brûlée, turned off the lights, and sang 'Happy Birthday' in English. Our waiter, an Algerian who adores Obama, kissed Lynne and me goodbye when we left. Steve and I will be back at least once before leaving Paris.

Night at the Museum, Day at the Canal

It sounded too good to be true: free admission to all museums in Paris for one night, with most staying open until midnight or later. Turns out it was true after all, as we realized after standing in line for forty-five minutes in front of the Grand Palais, waiting to see an exhibition of Turner's paintings and works of other artists who influenced him. This was one of the few museums not covered by the pass, but as big Turner fans we were willing to pay full freight--and we mistakenly thought that, since the Grand Palais only houses temporary exhibitions, it would be open late like the other museums but would still charge admission. As we neared the front of the line, a young Japanese woman overheard our conversation and joined in, informing us that it was indeed a freebie; she'd lived in Paris for six years and had attended several of these free museum nights. When we continued to express our disbelief, a young Frenchman in front of her chimed in and said, in English, "Believe me, it's free." Okay, we were convinced. And the closed ticket windows inside said it all. We very much enjoyed our evening with the Turners and especially liked being in a huge museum with le tout-Paris until after midnight.

And take note, big-shot Impressionists: Turner's 'Calais at Low Tide' predates Monet's 'Sunrise' by more than forty years:


Now that we're halfway through our stay, we're happy to report that the weather has changed for the better; the sun has managed to break through the clouds and temperatures have soared to sixty degrees. We took advantage of the improved weather by riding the metro out to eastern Paris and strolling along the Canal St. Martin. We followed the canal for about a mile before it disappeared underground, then continued along the boulevard Richard Lenoir where a greenway of gardens and children's play areas in the center of the boulevard stretches for at least another mile, nearly all the way to the place de la Bastille.

The canal:
The greenway:

Thé for Two

Yesterday Lynne took a break from touring with Robert to join me at one of Paris' salons de thé. This one was on a tiny sidestreet, the passage Dauphine, not far from both of our apartments. I'd wanted to treat her to tea as a birthday present and had been doing a bit of research via guidebooks before we arrived, followed by actual tracking-down-and-checking-out once we got here. The ones that the travel writers had raved about turned out to be way too chi-chi--like Ladurée, which offers "a simple afternoon tea of sandwiches and pastries" for $40 a person. With rates like that, we'd have to forego our morning croissants for the rest of our stay! So, when I stumbled on L'Heure Gourmande in the passage Dauphine during my on-the-street reasearch, it seemed like the perfect place for tea: cozy and comfy with a huge selection of teas and goodies at reasonable prices. Happily the actual tea-and-crumpet experience was just as good as advertised on the menu. I ordered sheperd's tea, an herbal concoction of citrus-y leaves, and Lynne diverged from her Earl Gray ways and had a pot of jasmine tea. Our pastries--apple crumble and clafouti aux fruits rouges (strawberry-rhubarb)--had just come out of the oven (not the microwave) and were heavenly. Steve isn't a tea drinker, but maybe I can convince him to go back with me and try the hot chocolate!

Dial M for Marmottan

Another cold--really cold--and cloudy Paris day, so how to bring some cheer into a dreary day? The best thing we could think of was to go to the Marmottan Museum in a leafy residential part of the city and see the sunny and cheerful Monets. The museum also has a collection of paintings by Berthe Morisot, a female artist who was mentored by Corot and more or less adopted by the Impressionist gang. An added bonus was a temporary exhibit of female painters and salons in the time of Proust, who frequented the salons and based many of his characters on the aristocrats, composers, writers, and artists who attended them. Monet's 'Impression, Sunrise' in the basement of the Marmottan was the closest we came to seeing the sun today, but we didn't mind.

New Vocabulary

Two terms I've learned since our arrival here intersected today: la grisaille (dull, gray skies that hang over Paris) and jour férié (public holiday). We woke up this morning to the former and soon realized (upon finding that our favorite bakery was closed) that it was also the latter. So, what to do on a cold gray day when all the free public museums and many shops are closed? Follow Rick Steves' advice and view Paris from the warmth and comfort of a city bus! It turns out that there's a bus stop directly in front of our building with four different routes to choose from. For today's adventure, the choice was easy: route 63 to Trocadéro, then transfer to route 69 to Père Lachaise Cemetery. The first bus dropped us off at the Palais de Chaillot, across the Seine from the Eiffel Tower. The gray skies were a perfect backdrop for photographing Paris' most famous landmark, and the cool weather kept the crowds at a reasonable level. We found an empty bench in the park near the Champ de Mars and ate our sandwiches; then we hopped on the #69 bus and headed to Père Lachaise. Steve took many photos along the way, beginning with the Pont Alexandre:
We saw the Grand Palais in the distance as we crossed over to the Right Bank:


On the way to Père Lachaise, we passed the bouqinistes along the Seine:


And the Conciergerie stood out as we cruised along:

Things to Do in Paris When You're Cold

With Paris' frequent unseasonably cool temperatures (e.g., 49 degrees on May 12), it may be necessary to find some indoor activities to keep the chills at bay, especially if you neglected to pack sweaters and a heavier coat. Normally you could go to a museum, but if your museum pass has expired, you'll need to be more creative. Here are some suggestions:

1) Ride the metro to the Place de l'Opéra.
2) Marvel at the spruced-up facade of the Opéra Garnier before ducking into a coffee shop:


3) Stop in at one of the grands magasins (department stores) that you've avoided in the past (Au Printemps and Galeries Lafayette are directly behind the Opéra).
4) Shop for something frivolous, e.g. nail polish, and practice your French with a friendly clerk who will help you find just the right shade.
5) Visit the Fragonard Perfume Museum (free entry!) and admire all the ancient atomizers and toiletry kits on display.
6) Do something unbelievably touristy and buy admission to Paris-Story, a 45-minute multimedia show covering 2,000 years of Paris history, art, and architecture. Forget the English headphones and listen instead to the enchanting female voice of "Paris" as she narrates, with a few side comments from Victor Hugo.

Assembling a Dinner

One of the pleasures of having a little kitchen in Paris is being able to gather various food items from neighborhood shops and put together a simple but delicious meal using only a microwave and an induction-based stovetop. Last night, to celebrate Lynne and Robert's arrival in Paris, the menu chez nous consisted of the following:

Appetizers: olives in garlic, eggplant caviar, chèvre, and freshly-baked pain de campagne
Main course: eggplant lasagna, haricots verts, salad
Dessert: chocolate, mango, and lemon gelato with fresh raspberries
Wine: Cotes du Rhone Villages, 2007

Here are the honored guests, drinking a pre-dinner kir:

Walking Tour #17

A few months ago, in anticipation of our trip, I bought a box of cards labeled Paris: 50 Adventures on Foot. Each card is a little bigger than 3 X 5, with a summary of attractions along a particular route on one side and a detailed map on the other. There are three cards devoted to our neighborhood (St. Germain), so we thought it would be fun to take one of the suggested walks. Of course we've already explored our immediate surroundings pretty thoroughly, but we didn't know much about the other side of Blvd. St. Germain, which cuts our neighborhood in half. The route took us down narrow cobblestone streets and hidden passageways, past beaucoup de restaurants and funky shops, and through a pretty residential area. We'll return soon, most likely with Lynne and Robert, to check out at least one of the restaurants--like this one, which dates back to 1686:


Tonight we returned to our neighborhood crêperie and were rewarded with free glasses of calvados (strong apple brandy) as a reward for our patronage. It was only our second time there, but the friendly waitress wanted us to know that she remembered us. What's not to like about life in Paris!

Far-flung Adventures

We've run out of days on the museum pass, so today was devoted to exploring non-cultural aspects of the city, something we hope to be doing often from now on. I'd read several articles about a charming little park in eastern Paris called Buttes-Chaumont and thought that would be a good place to begin. It's in the 19th arrondisement, an area we'd never visited before, even though it's less than a 20-minute metro ride from the center of the city. When we emerged from the subway, we were in a quiet residential area and the entrance to the park was just steps away. Inside the park, people were jogging, families were picnicking, and just about everyone had a dog on a leash. The most surprising thing to see was that people were actually sitting ON THE GRASS. We'd brought along a picnic of our own--as well as our own blanket--and joined the other grass-sitters for a déjeuner sur l'herbe. We look forward to many more days like this!

Watered-down Wars

Today was the last day of our six-day museum pass and also the 65th anniversary of VE Day, so we thought visits to the Army Museum and the Arc de Triomphe would be appropriate. Steve was looking forward to showing me the display of the Battle of Verdun, featuring a lighted bas-relief map of the territory gained and lost, which he'd seen on a previous trip (I must have been doing laundry at the time). But when we entered the WWI section of the museum, there was no mention of Verdun, nor any mention of the total number of casualties. The WWII section focused on the Resistance and the Free French, with barely a mention of life in France during the German occupation. Of course WWII is an especially painful topic for the French, but it seemed as though the museum's curators wanted to sweep those memories under the rug. Also, we'd read that military parades usually take place on VE Day and were hoping to see something going on near the Arc de Triomphe, but this year there was no special ceremony. Maybe it's a good thing that France is moving beyond its painful past, but those mistakes could be repeated if historical facts are glossed over.

Beyond thoughts of war, we managed to squeeze in some fun touristy things:

• Eating lunch in the garden of the Rodin Museum
• Climbing to the top of the Arc de Triomphe
• Drinking kir at the Café de la Mairie--right next to our apartment
  

Today's Question

Q: When do you want to take a hammer to your laundry device and beat it within an inch of its life?

A: When it's a German-manufactured combo washer/dryer labeled in French.

The machine in question, a Bosch WFT 2400, looks innocent enough. But once you place your clothing inside and press the start button, may God have mercy on your soul. You'll be lucky to retrieve said clothing in anything but shrunken, lifeless shreds, albeit very clean shreds. The WFT 2400: WTF?

Laundry woes aside, we are having a fine day here. This morning we toured the Pantheon and the Conciergerie, two places we'd never visited before. Poor Marie-Antoinette was held prisoner in the Conciergerie for two months before she was beheaded, and a mock-up of her cell is displayed there. A long list of prisoners who got 'the chop' included several LeFebvres...possible distant relatives who met an unfortunate end.

Pompidou and Circumstance

I didn't think any museum could top the MoMA in terms of early 20th century art, but today's visit to the Centre Pompidou made me reconsider. We went through room after room of works by Matisse and Picasso (my personal faves), Braque, Dali, Miro, Kandinsky, Leger, and Giacometti, to name a few. And the view of Sacre Coeur from the fifth-floor gallery was to die for:


After our home-assembled dinner of spaghetti and meatballs (notice I didn't say cooked--the delis in our neighborhood are fantastic), we took a stroll to the Musée D'Orsay, which was open until 9:45 this evening. Although we'd had gelato after dinner, we felt that our real dessert was all those servings of Monet, Renoir, Van Gogh, Gaugin, and Cezanne. Anyone for poppies?

Let Them Eat Crêpes

According to the weather forecast, today was supposed to be a little sunnier and warmer than yesterday, so we thought we'd take advantage of the nicer weather and head to Versailles for a tour of Louis and Marie's place. The trip to the chateau was a breeze, but the line of tourists already in possession of their tickets (like us, with our museum pass) was much longer than it had any right to be. Normally, people like us can just walk right in without any waiting at all, but this time it seemed that we'd be stuck for at least 45 minutes, so we decided to skip it altogether and head into town for an early lunch. We found a crêperie offering a ten-euro menu (main-course crêpe + dessert crêpe + a bowl of alcoholic cider) and enjoyed every mouthful. By the time we returned to the chateau (that's what the French call it, but it's much more palatial than that) the long line had disappeared and we walked right in.

Among the highlights:
1)The Hall of Mirrors (imagine cleaning those chandeliers!):


2)The ancestor, Francois Joseph LeFebvre, a marshall in Napoleon's army (his resemblance to Steve's dad is amazing):



3)Marie-Antoinette's hamlet, where she used to play at being a peasant (the buildings have been restored and are now accessible to the public):


The last thrill of the day came as we changed trains in Paris near the banks of the Seine just downstream from the Eiffel Tower. We'd been told that a mini-Statue of Liberty existed somewhere near there, but we'd never been able to find it on previous trips. (Our often-repeated lament: Est-ce qu'il y a une petite Statue de la Liberté près d'ici, ou non?) This time we were lucky--Miss Liberty popped up right before our eyes. (Okay, she's a little hard to see, but she really is there!)

Sex, Death, and Sacrifice

Today's adventure featured a visit to Paris' newest museum, the Musée du Quai Branly, completed in 2006 and dedicated to the primitive art of Africa, Oceania, Asia, and the Americas. Located on the banks of the Seine near the Eiffel Tower, it's an architecturally stunning building that blends in surprisingly well with the neighboring 18th-century townhouses:


The contemporary, user-friendly nature of the museum made it seem more like an American one, and the groups of school kids touring the Branly were enthralled (as were we) by the giant funerary poles and six-foot-tall ceremonial gongs from various South Pacific islands, the African masks, and the unusual musical instruments on display. What the kids did not see was the exhibit on the second floor of artifacts from the ancient Mochica culture of Peru. Apparently the Mochicans engaged in some pretty wild stuff: human and animal sacrifice, forms of 'non-procreative' sex, and death rituals, many of which were depicted on sweet little clay pots with an evil-looking dude called Wrinkle-Face. The graphic displays of sacrificial rituals left us feeling very glad to have grown up in the relatively tame American midwest, where all we had to worry about were a few potentially creepy priests.

Show Me the Monet

Today's key word is nymphéas: water lilies. There were huge murals of them in two circular rooms in the Orangerie Museum, just down from the Louvre. And because we had our 6-day museum passes in hand, we bypassed all the other suckas (as Drew would say) waiting in line. Monet helped design the museum and donated his paintings to the French government, hoping that they would help the country to heal after WWI. Here's one of the murals:


We'd been to the Louvre earlier in the day and were dismayed by all the people taking pictures of the pictures or having their picture taken in front of the pictures. Everyone, it seemed, was in a hurry to capture all those canvases in digital mode and had no interest in actually looking at the paintings. And curses to Dan Brown: the Mona Lisa is now in a special roped-off alcove with people standing twenty-deep to catch a glimpse of the mystery lady.

It Was a Free Museum Day in Paris

And we felt unfettered and alive until it started to rain. Luckily we had one umbrella between us, and the rain was brief. Entry to most museums is free the first Sunday of the month, but we didn't want to go to one of the major ones like the Louvre or the Orsay, thinking that the lines would be too long. Instead we visited the Musée Eugène Delacroix, a small museum a few blocks from our apartment. Delacroix is best known for the painting Liberty Leading the People, which hangs in the Louvre:


The sun had come out while we were in the museum, so after we left we decided to take a stroll along the Seine. We ended up in the Square du Vert Galant, a tiny park in the middle of the river:


Still feeling a little jet-lagged, we had only enough energy for one more museum, so we chose the Cluny, which is also very close to our apartment. Although we've been there many times before, we can never get enough of that lady with her unicorn:


We've been promised that our luggage will be delivered this evening, so we're keeping our fingers crossed. A bientôt!

Sans Luggage

After three separate flights, we arrived in Paris on time at 8:30 a.m. on May 1. Our luggage, however, missed the last flight and is waiting in Montreal. A very nice man at the Air Canada baggage counter at Charles DeGaulle Airport informed us that it would be delivered to our apartment sometime tomorrow afternoon (speaking with him in French as soon as I got off the plane was a great language-immersion experience). We're actually relieved that someone else will have to haul our three heavy bags up to the fifth floor, and in the meantime we have enough essentials in our carry-ons to tide us over.

Our cheaper-than-a-taxi shuttle was waiting for us at the airport (it's the first time I've seen my name on a placard in the arrival area), and the driver deposited us in front of our apartment at 10:30. We pushed open the heavy iron doors leading to the apartment lobby, rang the buzzer, and our landlord, Claude, greeted us warmly. We rode the lift up to the fourth floor and walked up one more floor to our little apartment. His wife, Lucile, was waiting there for us with plush white robes. We entered the apartment to find a lovely bouquet of fresh flowers in the sitting room and a bowl of fresh fruit on the dining table. Claude gave us a tour of our compact but charming apartment, which has everything we could possibly want for a month's stay in Paris, including access to his collection of 1,000+ DVDs and CDs. The building has been in his family for over 200 years, but now there are some new owners of the apartments on the lower floors; he had to sell them in order to afford the taxes.

After showing us the apartment, Claude took us on an orientation tour of the immediate neighborhood, pointing out his favorite food vendors and restaurants. He didn't hesitate to tell us which ones were "horrible," pretentious, or over-priced, with owners who might overcharge an unsuspecting tourist. We went inside the Marché Saint-Germain, a sort of indoor street market, with all kinds of interesting food stalls: Greek and Italian delis, fresh produce, seafood, two boucheries, and a fromagerie. Claude introduced us to his favorite merchants, which should help us in future shopping expeditions.

When the tour finished, we said goodbye to Claude and returned immediately to the Greek deli before it closed for the day (today is a national holiday, so everything closes after 1:00 p.m.). We stocked up on tabouli, keftes, and ratatouille, and then for a little variety bought some lasagne from the Italian deli. Our last stop was the local glacerie, where we splurged on a half-liter tub of chocolate, amaretto, and strawberry gelato.

Lunch, a nap, computer time, and dinner concluded our first day. We'll post pictures soon!