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.
No comments:
Post a Comment