I'm writing this at 11:57 a.m. on Thursday, 12/18 from the tv room in our house in East Point. Paris and Montmartre seem a long way away. I wish I'd taken or had the time to make writing this a priority at the time I posted the photos on Nov. 24. The photos are such a pain to upload that I ran out, I guess. We were running low on time in London and there was so much yet to see and do. I felt pressed to make the most of my time there. So here I sit looking at the photos and letting myself drift back to the days we spent in Paris.
This trip was the last chance in our schedule we would have to take off. We debated where to go: the Cotswolds, Switzerland, Vienna?, the lake country, Wales, Scotland. Neither of us wanted to drive so we ruled out driving a car. The Cotswolds or the lake country was possible by train and bus but the more I looked into it, the more it looked like planning would require a lot of web time. I didn't want to be confined to a chair for hours on the net. I hope for another trip. Some of the hikes available sounded great. Or bike trips. When I'm in my 70's? Humph. Same went for Scotland or Wales. It looked like, without a car, we'd be confined to one place. Again, too much research needed. Vienna took too long to reach. Switzerland would probably require sleeping on the train and really stretching our stamina. So Paris it was.
Ralph had spotted Timhotel in Montmartre on our first trip. I made the reservations after reading reviews and made sure we asked for a room with a view. We walked to St Pancras and took the Eurostar successfully this time. On the train, Ralph planned our subway (what is it called there?) route to Monmartre. We arrived just before 2 pm, took the Metro--that's it--transferred at Poissonierre, and emerged in a little, quiet square in Pigalle. It took Ralph some map checking and street name checking to get oriented. We were off on foot and somehow Ralph avoided our climbing the hill to Sacre Coeur, though as the name attests, Montmartre's is a mountain so some climb was inevitable.
This hotel was splendid. It's located on, again, a quiet stone square with trees and benches. Not the tourist season so no crowds. Monmartre was an island of tranquility apart from the buzz of in town Paris (and London). The view from the hotel window was astounding. The room was perfectly adequate. There was an elevator to transport our luggage. We were thrilled. Ralph proposed a long walk. Perfect. I wasn't ready to head for a standard tourist spot.
We wandered down the hill past restaurants, shops, bistros, bars to Pigalle. Ralph had planned our route. Hard on him and easy on me! Believe me, he's better at it. I'm sorry to say that a lot of specifics are not coming to me. We must have eaten lunch, having arrived at nearly two. I just don't remember. It was approaching dusk when we came across the Moulin Rouge. I took a lot of pictures. We strolled down a walkway which ran in a park down the center of a boulevard. It really was a perfect picture of my imagining of a Paris scene.
On the way back, we climbed the stairs to Sacre Coeur as we'd done on the last trip. A long haul. Night time. Increasingly dramatic views of Paris as one climbs from landing to landing. Plenty of people. We made our way around the cathedral into the town center and home.
I think it was this night that we went to Le Moulin de la Gallette https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moulin_de_la_Galette. We had spotted the restaurant on the last trip and our understanding was that the patio there was the location of Renoir's "Bal du Moulin de la Gallette" https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bal_du_moulin_de_la_Galette. I found out later by checking Wikipedia that Le Moulin de la Galette is the windmill adjacent to the restaurant and it was it's former location that Renoir, Van Gogh, and others painted. Ignorant of this fact, I was delighted to be there and was trying hard not to be a gawking tourist. The patio, as it was cold, was not open for dining. The interior was beautiful. We were a little uncomfortable about our being the only diners. It was fairly early. I think it was around 6. Ralph made his best effort and succeeded at speaking French to the waiter. And the food, to our surprise (having assumed this was a tourist trap), was VERY good. And, after some considerable time, some other diners came in. Perfect again.
One aside is that a middle-aged male diner came in and sat at a large round table. He had a briefcase and worked at his table. Presently, a group of diners arrived and he became the picture of a French host. I was facing him and had a great time watching him perform his duties. Gracious, warm, attentive, welcoming. Wonderful.
I think I won't try to recount in sequence the things we did after this in Paris. We went either to The Louvre or to the Picasso Museum on Friday. There was a long line. Of course we enjoyed being there but were puzzled and little baffled by no evidence of a organizing theme. The works were not in chronological sequence nor grouped by any theme that we could identify. It appeared to be random. We were given a polished museum guide but it merely gave an account of Picasso's life and work without pointing to the work in this particular museum. There were no notes accompanying the work.
I continue to be challenged to understand his later non-representational (is that the right word?) art. I had had no idea he'd painted such accomplished representational works and that he was so adept at that at such an early age. I liked most of his sculpture. His collection of primitive art was interesting, especially when I could see evidence of this exposure in his art. Of particular interest to me was the final part of the exhibit which was work by other artists from Picasso's private collection. Iberian sculpture, African and Oceanic masks, paintings by Le Nain, Corot, Vuillard, Cézanne, Gauguin, Matisse, Henri Rousseau, Renoir, Braque, Modigliani, Miro, or drawings by Degas, Chirico or Giacometti. One final observation. This collection does not represent much of Picasso's most famous work. Ralph was very frustrated.
One night we went to a little restaurant we had seen in Montmartre. There are probably 20 restaurants there. This one was on a side street and up some stairs. There was only one other couple there. They sounded German. The waiter was a little wacky, talked on his cell phone, and the food was not so good. We walked quite a while around Montmartre. This is when I took the night pictures of the streets there. At one point we came across Sacre Coeur and I followed Ralph in. A service was in progress. We sat in the visitors' area. A nun with a beautiful voice sang. People dribbled in and joined the congregation. Communion was taken. It was wonderful to be there and to experience some peace and loving.
On Saturday, we went to the Louvre. It's enormous. We saw a small part. We had audio guides which required a lot of work to operate properly. Very frustrating on that count. We saw the Venus de Milo, And we saw Leonardo da Vinci's paintings: "Virgin of the Rocks", The Virgin and Child with St Anne, St. John the Baptist, Bacchus, and Mona Lisa . This is of particular interest to Ralph. I was lucky enough to be with him as he told me all he could think of about the paintings. All but the Mona Lisa are in a wide long corridor. The Mona Lisa is in a different room cordoned off with ropes and inside a protective clear shield. The throng of photo takers was so dense we had to shove our way in. It was disgusting. They weren't even looking at the painting. And it's a painting you have to gaze at for a bit to really appreciate. What a circus.
We saw a fresco by -- I cannot find who the artist is -- Ralph thinks it's Rafael. I'm not so sure. I have a photo. It was faint. It was superb.
We had to leave at closing time and came out on the plaza courtyard. The pyramid gleamed in the night. A red light like a vein runs through it. I have photos. Don't know if I've posted.
That night we went to an area of town I had read about. It said this was an area not frequented by tourists but frequented by Parisians. Ralph found it. I had a street name. We found it. Many restaurants, artisan shops such as cheese and other ingredients for cooking and baking. It was lit. We walked and walked and finally were fortunate to find a table out front of a restaurant under an awning. We faced the street with out backs to the wall of the restaurant front. It was Italian. Perfect for people watching.
One night -- I can't place which but I'm guessing Friday -- we searched and searched and searched for a restaurant to which we had gone before and loved our previous trip. Ralph knew the general area and that it was Thai. I had found it while researching veg friendly restaurants. We didn't and I haven't, despite my extensive search, found it. In the process, we stumbled upon a large park dedicated to Nelson Mandela. Maybe I'll find the name of the area but not now.
There were many times on this trip when we were anxious to speak some French and I had to give up. I was hopeless. In fact, I several times said "Si". Lord. Ralph did well, though. They actually spoke French to him.
What else can I say? It was Paris as I'd dreamed of it being. Thanks to Ralph who made a point of taking us to Montmartre. I should add that we had a terrible falling out on Friday night. Something to sort out and seems to fit a pattern when we are on trips.
Monday, November 24, 2014
Sunday, November 23, 2014
Friday, November 21, 2014
Thursday, November 20, 2014
Wednesday, November 19, 2014
November 19 MacBeth with FSU students in a matinee.
This was a good day. I found a restaurant online suggested by the Ambassador's Theatre where we were to go for a production of MacBeth by the National Youth Theatre. The Noodle. Near Covent Garden. I met Ralph there. Good food and a table by the window which looked out on a poster across the street for a movie about Jimi Hendrix. I was happy. I was learning to navigate and travel.
The theatre was full of school children. Wondering what to expect. One of Ralph's students did not show up. He was and had been worried about her. The production was good. Interesting effect at one point with a large center stage teepee like area lit up by a red light from within in such a way that silhouettes of the performers were projected onto the curtain that faced the stage. If I remember correctly, this was a scene with the witches. There was a jester-like character played by a woman. She was terrific and thrilled the children. That is a personality so apart from who I am I can hardly believe it. Lady MacBeth was very good. Her costumes, too, were wonderful.
I believe this was the night we walked to the Dune shoe store in Covent Garden and bought two pair of boots for me, one of which I intended to return. Black suede ankle boots with buckles and tan nubuck ankle boots with an elevated heel. I took them both to Paris next day and could not make a decision while there.
The theatre was full of school children. Wondering what to expect. One of Ralph's students did not show up. He was and had been worried about her. The production was good. Interesting effect at one point with a large center stage teepee like area lit up by a red light from within in such a way that silhouettes of the performers were projected onto the curtain that faced the stage. If I remember correctly, this was a scene with the witches. There was a jester-like character played by a woman. She was terrific and thrilled the children. That is a personality so apart from who I am I can hardly believe it. Lady MacBeth was very good. Her costumes, too, were wonderful.
I believe this was the night we walked to the Dune shoe store in Covent Garden and bought two pair of boots for me, one of which I intended to return. Black suede ankle boots with buckles and tan nubuck ankle boots with an elevated heel. I took them both to Paris next day and could not make a decision while there.
Monday, November 17, 2014
Nov 17 Walk in Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens
Again, I'm writing here in my living room in East Point by the fire with Poesie at my feet. It's December 18, 6:53 pm.
November 17:
Ralph came home on this overcast drizzly day inspired with the idea of going to Hyde Park. And we went. He had figured out our route so I tagged along. We "alighted" at Marble Arch and made our way across the street and traffic to the park entrance. Several paths offered themselves. We took the middle and headed off between green lawns and old trees. There was a lot to see. We came upon an art gallery and walked through. Mostly film clips and a nice book store. Back out along the trail where it seemed to me, because they had their dogs, that there were mostly Londoners. Lots of dogs running loose. We passed what is called The Serpentine which is a long lake, the Princess Diana Memorial Fountain, various statues, and came to the Albert Memorial. I had read that this was a tribute by Queen Victoria to Albert to whom she was devoted. It is impressive if for no other reason than it's over the top lavishness. Albert all in shiny gold sits atop a platform under a sort of cupola. It's ornately carved and painted. On the four corners are settings of statues meant, I take it, to represent corners of the empire: elephants, camels (I think), etc. There are long steps up to it.
Across the street was Albert Hall. In front were gathered young people in caps and gowns and what I took to be their friends and relatives.
We went round Albert and entered a gated path which turned out to be the flower garden. Naturally, there were few, if any, flowers blooming but it was a lovely walk. Some joggers.
We came out close, we figured to Kensington Palace and walked over to find it. It's impressive in size but pretty plain and drab, I thought. Prince Harry purportedly lives in the carriage house. The palace is in part open to the public. We did not go in. We turned in the direction of the park entrance we had come in and walked along the Serpentine. It was dusk. I'd been a little concerned about being in the park after dark but there were people everywhere. We stopped at the Lido Cafe Bar, got glasses of wine, and sat on the porch overlooking the patio to the water. Such moments of contentment. Then we headed home.
November 17:
Ralph came home on this overcast drizzly day inspired with the idea of going to Hyde Park. And we went. He had figured out our route so I tagged along. We "alighted" at Marble Arch and made our way across the street and traffic to the park entrance. Several paths offered themselves. We took the middle and headed off between green lawns and old trees. There was a lot to see. We came upon an art gallery and walked through. Mostly film clips and a nice book store. Back out along the trail where it seemed to me, because they had their dogs, that there were mostly Londoners. Lots of dogs running loose. We passed what is called The Serpentine which is a long lake, the Princess Diana Memorial Fountain, various statues, and came to the Albert Memorial. I had read that this was a tribute by Queen Victoria to Albert to whom she was devoted. It is impressive if for no other reason than it's over the top lavishness. Albert all in shiny gold sits atop a platform under a sort of cupola. It's ornately carved and painted. On the four corners are settings of statues meant, I take it, to represent corners of the empire: elephants, camels (I think), etc. There are long steps up to it.
Across the street was Albert Hall. In front were gathered young people in caps and gowns and what I took to be their friends and relatives.
We went round Albert and entered a gated path which turned out to be the flower garden. Naturally, there were few, if any, flowers blooming but it was a lovely walk. Some joggers.
We came out close, we figured to Kensington Palace and walked over to find it. It's impressive in size but pretty plain and drab, I thought. Prince Harry purportedly lives in the carriage house. The palace is in part open to the public. We did not go in. We turned in the direction of the park entrance we had come in and walked along the Serpentine. It was dusk. I'd been a little concerned about being in the park after dark but there were people everywhere. We stopped at the Lido Cafe Bar, got glasses of wine, and sat on the porch overlooking the patio to the water. Such moments of contentment. Then we headed home.
Saturday, November 15, 2014
Thursday, November 13, 2014
November 13 Selfridges
I'm writing this in my living room in East Point sitting by the fire with Poesie at my feet and Ralph upstairs creaking his father's old oak desk chair as he writes. Blissful.
I wanted some boots. The only closed toed shoes I had were some black suede knee boots. It was chilly but still warm enough that knee boots made me hot.
This was a sort of funny, sort of humbling experience. I dressed as comfortably as I could. I suffered so with the side-effects of my med which made me prone to break into a sweat after walking far. Perspiration would pop out on the temples of my head which I wiped frequently with kleenex I made sure to keep in my purse. I wore my cotton green military style jacket (satin lined cuffs, very cute), blue jeans, and white sandals. I believe I had on my pink sleeveless blouse. And I put on and took off my London Fog frequently.
I planned my journey and arrived safe and sound at the door to Selfridges via a bus from Camden Rd. I looked around, oriented myself, and dove in. Sparkly Christmas lights everywhere. Spectacular display windows. But I was focused on the boots. I'd researched them online. I walked into the store into what turned out to be the cosmetics department. Very high ceilings, gleaming floors, columns, pretty people. I started perspiring as usual after walking. I wove my way through the cases and located a store directory which directed me to the third floor. Up the escalator. Turn to the left and into the largest shoe department in the world! It turned out to be fortunate I came upon the cheapest shoes first. I looked and looked and looked. I passed on to the next room. Dune shoes among others. 99 pounds at the least. (166 dollars) Beautiful boots. On to the next room. More expensive. I sensed a trend. These prices were out of sight and I was only maybe 1/2 way through. Back to the cheaper shoes. I was conscious of having perspired. Didn't want to take off my jacket. Struggling. Requested three pair of shoes to try in two sizes as I wasn't sure of British sizes. I sat down across from a full length mirror. There I was. Summer WHITE sandals, regular slim fit jeans and all around me had on tight jeans and boots. Felt like a pauper. Lordy. Couldn't decide so I bought a straight-forward pair of low heeled black ankle boots with pointed toes and a flat black biker boot. Try them on at home. Couldn't wait to get out of there.
Out on the street. Glittering lights all around. Christmas. I window shopped my way back to the street I'd identified as the location of the bus stop I needed for home. I couldn't wait to bring Ralph back here. And thank goodness I found the right stop. Once safely on the bus, I relaxed. I put the big yellow bag of shoes on the floor in front of me and waited. Unsure just how far in home direction this bus went I decided to get off near Whole Foods. I slipped past my seat mate and onto the street and blended in with the fast-paced sidewalk crowd. My shoes. MY BOOTS!! Running back towards the bus which was coming my way. Glimpsed my seat mate standing up with my bag in hand. She spotted me and moved to the driver. In a moment he stopped. Thank god! I jumped on thanking the miffed driver, effusively thanked the woman, and ran off the bus. Again, Lordy. What an angel that woman was. I was incredibly lucky and so absent-minded!
I wanted some boots. The only closed toed shoes I had were some black suede knee boots. It was chilly but still warm enough that knee boots made me hot.
This was a sort of funny, sort of humbling experience. I dressed as comfortably as I could. I suffered so with the side-effects of my med which made me prone to break into a sweat after walking far. Perspiration would pop out on the temples of my head which I wiped frequently with kleenex I made sure to keep in my purse. I wore my cotton green military style jacket (satin lined cuffs, very cute), blue jeans, and white sandals. I believe I had on my pink sleeveless blouse. And I put on and took off my London Fog frequently.
I planned my journey and arrived safe and sound at the door to Selfridges via a bus from Camden Rd. I looked around, oriented myself, and dove in. Sparkly Christmas lights everywhere. Spectacular display windows. But I was focused on the boots. I'd researched them online. I walked into the store into what turned out to be the cosmetics department. Very high ceilings, gleaming floors, columns, pretty people. I started perspiring as usual after walking. I wove my way through the cases and located a store directory which directed me to the third floor. Up the escalator. Turn to the left and into the largest shoe department in the world! It turned out to be fortunate I came upon the cheapest shoes first. I looked and looked and looked. I passed on to the next room. Dune shoes among others. 99 pounds at the least. (166 dollars) Beautiful boots. On to the next room. More expensive. I sensed a trend. These prices were out of sight and I was only maybe 1/2 way through. Back to the cheaper shoes. I was conscious of having perspired. Didn't want to take off my jacket. Struggling. Requested three pair of shoes to try in two sizes as I wasn't sure of British sizes. I sat down across from a full length mirror. There I was. Summer WHITE sandals, regular slim fit jeans and all around me had on tight jeans and boots. Felt like a pauper. Lordy. Couldn't decide so I bought a straight-forward pair of low heeled black ankle boots with pointed toes and a flat black biker boot. Try them on at home. Couldn't wait to get out of there.
Out on the street. Glittering lights all around. Christmas. I window shopped my way back to the street I'd identified as the location of the bus stop I needed for home. I couldn't wait to bring Ralph back here. And thank goodness I found the right stop. Once safely on the bus, I relaxed. I put the big yellow bag of shoes on the floor in front of me and waited. Unsure just how far in home direction this bus went I decided to get off near Whole Foods. I slipped past my seat mate and onto the street and blended in with the fast-paced sidewalk crowd. My shoes. MY BOOTS!! Running back towards the bus which was coming my way. Glimpsed my seat mate standing up with my bag in hand. She spotted me and moved to the driver. In a moment he stopped. Thank god! I jumped on thanking the miffed driver, effusively thanked the woman, and ran off the bus. Again, Lordy. What an angel that woman was. I was incredibly lucky and so absent-minded!
Oxford St Selfridges-not snow
This looks like snow but it's actually the large white lit Christmas balls strung across the street. I had not been to Oxford St before I went that day and the profusion of decorations was an exciting surprise. Unfortunately, I had not taken care in dressing for the occasion except to wear sandals I thought I could easily slip off to try on boots. I wore some jeans too long for the sandals and a military styled jacket. Getting there was an exploration. I was a bit tense. And I entered the door to find an elegant polished interior and a door man dressed in black with a bowler hat (The hat part--I think). I had the beginnings of a sinking feeling that I was slightly (or more) outclassed in my shabby tourist garb. And, to boot, I was perspiring as predicted as a side-effect of my meds. It was chilly outside, mind you.
I braved the stroll across the floor to the escalators where I found a directory. Up a couple of floors to the shoe dept. which is reputed to be the largest shoe department in the world. Fortunately, I was to soon realize, I happened on the lowest priced department first. Still, pricey. I had done my online homework and these prices were a little better than I'd hoped. I asked for some advice from a young male clerk with a French accent and a sort of skirt type garb. I made a choice of three styles and we estimated my UK size. I sat down across from a full length mirror and fought my urge to run out of there. I truly looked mismatched and out of season. Humbling. I toughed it out and took two pair home to try. I was going to need some skinny jeans to go with the fashion.
I determined from which entrance I'd come in and fled through the door carrying my big neon yellow Selfridges' bag. Consulted my map and my navigation notes carefully. I walked then took my bearings. Wrong direction. Back the way I came while glancing at the Macy's-like show windows and gawking at the lit-up sides of buildings. Found the bus stop. Cold. At last the bus came and I piled on with the crowd. Safely in my seat, I placed my big yellow bag in front of my knees, exhaled, and dropped into a reverie. Sooner than I'd anticipated, we were in Camden Town, passing Whole Foods, and nearing Camden High Street. For fear I might overshoot the best stop, I pressed the button, stepped over my seat mate, and jumped out the door to the street. Relief. Ambling home and thinking, "boots". Jeez!!! MY BOOTS!!! ON THE BUS!!! I ran waving madly towards the bus which was coming my way on the dark busy street. I spotted my ex-seatmate walking down the bus aisle with a desperate look holding up my BIG NEON YELLOW bag. She saw me and moved quickly to the driver. THE BUS STOPPED! I rushed through the opened door thanking the disgruntled driver profusely. I met my seatmate and gushed thanks to her. I rushed out the door onto the street. Oh my. How incredibly spacey and lucky was I? Nice London people once again. Thoughts jumbled I stumbled the many dark cold blocks home. Safe. Soon I would find The Gap and regain my self-respect with some skinny jeans.
Wednesday, November 12, 2014
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