December 4, 2016, Sunday:
Free Sunday Rolls Around Again in
Paris.
One of the great advantages of being
in Paris on the first Sunday of each month is that you get to enter a lot of
the museums and monuments for free. Most folks make a bee-line for the
better-known ones such as the Louvre or the Musee d’Orsay. But, having seen
those several times before and being pretty certain that my Met ID card would
get me into those for free, I chose to go to places I had never visited—and so
after much research on the net, I zeroed in on four places to see—if I could
muster the stamina and the endurance to see them all.
After carrying two pain au chocolate for breakfast, at 9.00
am, I used my carnet of 10 metro
tickets and hopped on to the RER (B) from Cite-Universitaire to get to St.
Michel. From there, the Cathedral of Notre-Dame is just across the street. My
idea was to get to the Cathedral for the 9. 30 am Lauds service which was quite
well attended by locals and a number of tourists. It lasted 30 minutes and at
10.00 am, I joined the line at the side of the Cathedral for free entry onto
the spiral staircase that leads to the twin towers. I had never been up there
(although I have visited and attended services in the Cathedral pretty often),
and was rewarded with an absolutely fabulous day—clear and sunny (although
freezing cold). This would ensure really spectacular pictures of Paris seen
from a height.
Climbing to the Towers of
Notre-Dame:
Having reached the line at 10.00am,
I was shocked to find that there were at least 300 people in the line before
me. So although the entry door opened at 10.00 am sharp, by the time I entered,
I had waited in the line for one hour and 10 minutes. And the wait was brutal
because the temperature was unseasonably low. Although I was very warmly clad,
after about half an hour in the line, I started to freeze and actually had to
enter one of the souvenir stores to warm myself.
In the end, however, the wait was
fully worthwhile, for the bird’s-eye views of the city from the towers are hard
to describe in words. Baron Hausmann’s glorious city was basking in the winter
sun in its lovely ivory shade of Caen stone punctuated only occasionally by a recognizable
spire of a church or a landmark building that was easy to recognize. I took so
many pictures of the buildings and of the Seine and its bridges snaking around
the city. However, it was not just the city that lay as if showing itself off
at its dazzling best and waiting to be photographed, that caught my eye; it was
the umpteen architectural features by which I was surrounded that had me
completely enthralled. The famous gargoyles, for instance, created through the
genius of Violet Le Duc, can be seen up close and personal. Great ugly stone
animals and birds (such as eagle-like griffons) that are unrecognizable form
the Gothic water spouts through which rain water is ingeniously siphoned down
the building. There are statues of saints and a number of angels in prayer that
would be impossible to see from ground level. The huge bells of the Cathedral
are so close when you are up in the towers that to hear them peeling is to jump
out of your skin. As I stood there taking photographs, I simply could not help
thinking how worthwhile it was to have climbed 450 steps to get to the top. In
fact, after one has circumnavigated one level of the tower, there is another
flight of stairs to climb to get even higher. It was rather grudgingly that I
climbed those, but from up there too the views that came into focus were
sublime—the Eiffel Tower, the heights of Montmartre with the Church of
Sacre-Coeur crowning it, the funky design of the Centre Pompidour designed by
the Italian Renzo Piano, the confection that is the Opera Garnier designed by
the one and only Charles Garnier, the dissimilar spires of the Church of St.
Suplice, the ugliest tower in Paris (Tour Montparnasse), the Pantheon with its
serene dome and the exuberant golden Dome Church at Les Invalids. I have to
admit that I had a field day and was absolutely thrilled with my decision to
get to the top as it was my first time—and probably my last (although never say
never!). I seriously cannot see myself being able to repeat the feat of scaling
450 steps—and so I was also delighted that I had the perfect day on which to
click my pictures.
Back on Terra Firma:
By 12 noon, I was back on terra firma and dying for some hot
chocolate as I was unbelievably cold. As I walked along the back street, past
the many souvenir stores that have sprouted on the streets leading from the
Cathedral to the Seine, I arrived at Rue du Renard where I found a McDs! It was with such relief that I
went inside to order a hot chocolate with whipped cream and gave my feet a
well-earned rest. But then, not wanting to waste too much time on free Sunday,
I hastened away to the next item on my agenda, past the legendary department
store called BHV (and from where we
once bought the best can-opener in the world!) to arrive at the Musee Picasso—the next item on my list.
Visiting the Musee Picasso:
About 30 years ago, on my first visit to
Europe, I had received my first introduction to the world of the legendary
Pablo Picasso in this museum. I can still remember seeing the giant painting of
Les Demoiselles D’Avignon at the
entrance and being stunned. I can recall walking in reverence from room to room
as I reviewed Picasso’s work from phase to phase in his life. Marvelous
curatorial notes in each gallery introduced the many influences in his life,
the many women who crowded it and became subjects of his work, the many places
in which he lived and found inspiration, the many experiments he conducted with
form and color as he traced a trajectory that took him from realism during his
early years in Barcelona to the varied ‘color’ phases—his Blue phase, his Rose
Phase--his experiments with Cubism, his imitations of the work of the
Masters (his obsession with Velasquez,
for instance, that resulted in the endless variations he created of Las Meninas). I had seen them all and
understood with exceeding clarity, very early in my life, what Picasso had
attempted to do and why he is regarded as perhaps the greatest artistic genius of
the 20th century.
When I lived in Paris, four years
ago, the Musee Picasso, which is
located in a lovely hotel particulier
(private manor) in the city on the Rue de Thorigny, was under renovation. They
were going to re-structure it so that it would cease to be chronological and
would only display some of his masterpieces at a time and often in conjunction
with the work of other contemporary artists. Thus, when I arrived at the venue
at about 1.00 pm, I found about 75 people in the line before me. However, the line (unlike the one at
Notre-Dame) moved speedily and I was inside in about 20 minutes.
Exploring the Musee Picasso:
This time, to my utter
disappointment, I found that the museum had completely changed its display
style and I am afraid I was neither impressed nor delighted. The early work was
present but then the work transitioned too suddenly and with barely an adequate
explanation from one gallery to the next. Also, this time the exhibition
featured the work of Picasso and Giacometti, the sculptor who also made Paris
his home. I surveyed the comparative exhibits very carefully and enjoyed it,
undoubtedly…but my enjoyment and enlightenment were not nearly as profound as
they had been 30 years ago. Still, I am glad I re-visited this museum and I
would say that to anyone who has not been to it, a trip to Paris ought to
include this museum.
Off to the Fondation Cartier:
Next on my agenda was a visit to the Fondation Cartier—which, as its name implies, was created under the
patronage of the famed French jewelry house. My interest in seeing the place
was to view the architectural genius of the great Jean Nouvel whose work I have
seen in various parts of the world (the Opera House in Lyon, the Musee de Quai
Blanchi in Paris, a Tower in Barcelona, etc). He is an architect with a
non-conventional vision. He introduced the concept of blurring the lines
between indoor and outdoor spaces, of creating hanging gardens that scale a
whole wall, of using glass walls to block out traffic sounds, etc. So off I
went to the Rue Raspail by metro to get to the museum—not really knowing what
to expect inside.
To my surprise, a rather weird
exhibition themed around ‘The Orchestra of Animals’ was in full swing. It had
attracted a great deal of children (it was, after all, a Sunday) and was
portrayed through multi-media. There were movies, film clips, paintings and,
downstairs, in the basement, some more rather strange films. The exhibition
wasn’t really my cup of tea at all, but I have to say that Novel’s building is
striking. There is a lot of glass (his signature touch), miles of what look
like pipes and loud primary colors everywhere. I did not spend too much time
here and within the hour, I was out.
Off to the Arc de Triomphe:
Nightfall was not too far off by the
time I emerged from the Fondation Cartier
and out on the street. I took the metro again and made my way across the Seine
on the 6 line which runs aloft and overground for most of its route. When you
cross the Seine on the 6, you get glorious pictures of the Eiffel Tower and by
day or night, it is compelling. My destination was the Champs-Elysses as I was
headed to the Arc de Triomphe to climb it for the first time—also for free. I
dreaded to think of how long the line would be, as it had been a long day and I
was fatigued. But I pressed on and I arrived at my venue at about 5.00 pm when
it had already become pretty dark.
A Word about the Champs-Elysses:
When
I emerged from the metro station, I was stunned. The Champs-Elysses, the main
artery that radiates from the Place de L’Etoile and the Arc de Triomphe, which
some folks believe to be the most stylish of Paris’ avenues and certainly the
one most used for public parades, was ablaze with Christmas color. It is indeed
such a great time to be in Paris. The city is wearing its holiday best. There
are lights everywhere. The stores are simply glittering with eye-candy of every
sort. The jewel in the crown, however, is the Cartier building which was
covered with red lights and wrapped in a dazzling bright red bow with the
Cartier logo, the panther, also picked up in lights at the top of the building.
I would have liked to have lingered longer on this lovely avenue, but I did not
want to have too long a wait to get to the top of the Arc and hurried along.
Climbing the Arc de Triomphe:
There were about 250 people in the
line ahead of me when I reached the Arc de Triomphe which looked gorgeous in
the reflected aura of so many holiday lights. The line also moved quickly and
in an organized fashion and, in no time at all, I was at the top taking in the
beauty of the city as picked out in its lights. This time I had climbed 250
steps—you can just imagine how heroic I felt after having climbed 450 steps in
the morning! I do not believe that I will ever be capable of accomplishing this
again. The climb to the Arc was also the first time ever that I would be
undertaking it—and so I was excited.
All the way to the top of the Arc,
there are exhibits—trivia and other facts that can keep the visitor occupied.
Once at the top, you circumnavigate the viewing platform to take in the sights.
I deliberately decided to see the views of Paris from the Cathedral of
Notre-Dame by day and then to see the same sights by night from the Arc de
Triomphe as I was sure that illuminations would portray the city in a
completely different light (pun unintended!). Needless to say, I caught the
Eiffel Tower ablaze at the 6.00 pm hour and that was a thrill in itself. I went
through the process, all over again, of taking dozens of pictures and was
particularly taken by the Champs-Elysses itself with its holiday decorations
and its giant Ferris wheel at one end (close to the Place de la Concorde). By
the time I descended all those steps again and came down to ground level, I
found out that the daily ceremony of the Changing of the Guard that takes place
around the immortal flame at the tomb of the unknown soldier, was in full
swing. It was quite moving to see the simple pageantry with which these rituals
are observed. It involved reading from a text, the hoisting and carrying of the
bleu, blanc, rouge, the blowing of
bugles and the singing of the national anthem, La Marseillaise. Again, I took many pictures and thought to myself
how wonderful it was that I was having all these varied experienced on a single
day.
By this time, as you can understand,
I was quite drooping with fatigue and decided that I needed to get straight
back home. However, I was hungry and needed something more substantial than a
salad—so I hopped into a McDs to get
myself a Croque Monsieur which is a toasted ham and cheese sandwich—I got a
takeaway and was soon on the train arriving at my room at 9.00 pm. I was
exhausted and after eating it with a salad, I showered and did not waste any
time in going straight off to sleep.
Free
Sunday in Paris had been a resounding success!
A
demain!
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