Final Day in Paris and Return to London.

December 10, 2016, Saturday: Paris-London

Final Day in Paris and Return to London.

 

            And so the day finally dawned when I would leave the City of Lights and get back to London. I awoke at 6.30 am, spent an hour catching up through wifi on email and Twitter and at 7.30 am, I began to look for breakfast. For the last couple of days, I had been trying to finish up all the food in my fridge and so I ate bits and bobs and went down to the vending machine for a mocha latte. I began packing right after as my flight from Charles de Gaulle airport was at 6.05 pm. This basically left me with the whole day to go where I pleased when my packing was done. But I was really so exhausted after all the walking I had done for the past week, that I simply stayed local. After accomplishing a great deal of packing, I took a break for a shower and then left my place to take the tram to Stade Charlety, the next stop, to get some chocolate from Franprix for the friends with whom I would be staying in London for a few days. Takign the tram ticked off the last To-Do item on my Paris List!

            Back in my place with my boxes of chocolates, I continued packing, got rid of my garbage, emptied my fridge and put the last bits of my food together in a makeshift lunch that included the last of my smoked salmon, salad leaves, salad dressing, blue cheese and mixed nuts with honey-ginger yoghurt and macarons for dessert. By 1.30 pm, I washed up my lunch things and returned them to the kitchen (plate, bowl, glass, cutlery). I cleaned up, took pictures of my room and by 1.45, I was down at the Reception and returning my keys and saying goodbye to the place I have now called home twice in my life. I thanked them profusely downstairs for providing such a safe, comfortable and reasonably-priced space.

            From the metro station, I took the RER (B) directly to Charles de Gaulle airport where I arrived at exactly 3.00pm for my 6.00 pm Air France flight to London. I arrived at Heathrow at 7.30 pm local time and taking the Tube, I alighted at Warwick Avenue where I reached at about 10.00 pm. I walked to my friend Raquel’s dupleix flat where her husband Chris came to give me a hand with my baggage expecting me to have an outsized case after three weeks away from London. As it turned out, it amazed them all to realize that I had traveled with just a small backpack.

            Raquel very kindly fixed me a bowl of her pasta and meatballs and after a long free-wheeling chinwag, I gave them the gifts I had brought for them (Fragonard perfume for Raquel, chocolates for Chris and Jonas) and then called it a night.           

   It was great to be back in London (which is like a second home to me) and to feel that easy sense of familiarity—although, to be perfectly fair, within a day of being in Paris, it had felt like home to be as well!

Until tomorrow, cheerio…

 

                 

          

     

           

  

    

           

Exhausting Second-Last Day in Paris: Parc Montsourris, Eiffel Tower, La Defence, Sacre-Coeur, the Louvre.

December 9, 2016, Friday: Paris

An Exhausting Second-Last Day in Paris—Eiffel Tower, La Defence, Sacre-Coeur and The Louvre

            Awaking at Cite-Universitaire to the sound of the tram bell on Boulevarde Jourdan, I showered, dressed and decided to try to find a coffee nearer at hand than the café of the complex (which was a five minute walk away in the adjoining building). The Receptionist on duty, the lovely Morgane, showed me how to use the vending machine and for 65 cents, I got myself a café latte and walked with it and my Pierre Herme croissant Poire William across the street into Parc Montsourris. This venture ticked another item off my To-Do List as I had promised myself that I would try to find the time for a ramble in this park in which I have spent many a lazy hour in past years.

Breakfast in Parc Montsourris:

            There are not a lot of visitors in Parc Montsourris at 8.30 am on a late autumn morning. The decidedly nippy weather does not attract too many—and not on a working morning. However, there were a few dog-walkers around, a few energetic joggers and a couple of Asian men doing tai chi exercises! I munched on my croissant and sipped my coffee while my ankles were sniffed by curious dogs. It was great to start the day in this serene fashion as it grew frenzied as it progressed for I was trying too hard to fit in a whole lot of major sights into my second-last day—in order to leave tomorrow free for re-packing and closing shop in my room at Cite-Universitaire.

On the Metro to Climb the Eiffel Tower:

            My main aim of the day was to make it to the summit of the Eiffel Tower—another first-time experience for me. Every time I have been to Paris in the past, the serpentine lines have put me off trying to get to the top. Since it was winter, I presumed there’d be fewer tourists and that the wait would be shorter.

            I rode the No. 6 metro train towards Charles de Gaulle/L’Etoile and got off at Bir-Hakeim. If the name sounds familiar, it is the spot in Afro-French history notorious for one of the most important French battles ever fought during World War II. There is information about this battle on the platform of the metro station (which is overground).

Viewing the Jewish Memorials of the Velodrome d’Hiver (the Vel d’Hiv):

            The metro stop of Bir-Hakeim is where you get off to see the Eiffel Tower. But it is also where the notorious Velodrome d’Hiver once stood. It was a stadium for cycling tournaments and it had once attracted thousands of Parisians to its crowded stands. During World War II, after Paris was occupied by the Nazis and the Jewish purge began, Parisian police began rounding up Jews from the Marais and bussing them to the Vel d’Hiv where they were held for five days with barely any food or water. A number of children and elderly Jews perished here even before they were further bussed to Drancy or Beaune from where they were deported to the concentration camps. I had become aware of the Vel d’Hiv and its association with World War II history after reading the wonderful novel by Tatiana de Rosney called Sarah’s Key—of which a rather wonderful movie has also been made. (It is, in fact, a text in the course I teach on ‘Migration, Marginalization and Partition’ at NYU).

            Descending from the metro platform in the elevator to ground level, I asked the staff at the ticket window where I could find the memorials. I had already visited one of them before—it was then a large marble slab crowned with wreaths on the main road. But when I got there this time, I found the entire area cordoned off behind construction partitions. On reading the information available around it, I discovered that a major renovation project is currently on and that the small memorial is going to become a most impressive spot with a visitor center and other such monuments added to it. It will probably be finished in the next couple of years.

            However, the ticketing clerk also directed me across the main road to the Quai de Grenelle where another monument to the fallen Jews is to be found. I followed his instructions, crossed the street and found myself in a small strip of garden—rather forlorn at this time of year—with a very large and impressive sculpture at the end of the pathway on the Isle de Grenelle (the third island in Paris about which not many people know. It is the same island that also contains a miniature version of the Statue of Liberty). I walked along the pathway and reached the sculpture which depicts a Jewish family of varied ages sitting in despair around their meagre belongings with little knowledge of the fact that they were being moved towards their deaths. I found the monument deeply moving.

Off to the Eiffel Tower:

            Having ticked another item off my To-Do List, I walked quickly for another ten minutes towards the Eiffel Tower. As I had expected, the line was barely there. I reached at about 10.30 and stood in line to get a ticket for about 15 minutes and for another five minutes to get into the high-speed elevators that whisk you to the top for 17 euros. Had I come in the summer, I would have waited in line for at least two hours!

              I have to say that I was excited about getting to the top of the Eiffel Tower. I have always loved this monument, the strange vision of Charles Eiffel who thought it okay to create a great wrought-iron tower on the banks of the Seine that would rival every other building in height and prominence.  Its wonderful design fascinates me and I love the decorative work around its various tiers. Going up, however, is altogether another experience and I loved every second of it.

            The ride up in the elevator is itself quite chest-heaving for you rise to unbelievable heights so quickly that you are likely to feel a twinge of vertigo—I certainly did—until you adjust to the sudden difference. You will also find your ears popping at the difference in air pressure. There are also stairs, of course, and you can climb up all the way to the top—but I was not built of such stern stuff (at least not after having climbed to the top of Notre-Dame and the Arc de Triomphe on this visit!). When you get off at the first level, you are amazed at the sights you see. Sadly, although there was no rain, the air pollution in Paris had caused a hazy smog to settle over the city. The pictures I got were, therefore, not the best. But as I circumnavigated the city, I saw every monument and could pick it out so clearly: the Dome of Les Invalides Church, the mountain (Montmartre) topped by the Church of Sacre-Coeur, the many bridges over the Seine, etc. There are restaurants and souvenir stores and all sorts of attractions to keep the visitor busy in addition to the thrill of taking pictures or posing for selfies against the backdrop of Baron Haussmann’s glorious city.

            When you are done on this floor, you take the elevator again to another level which allows you to climb to the summit. Here you can see the office that Charles Eiffel used when the tower was under construction. It is the same office in which he entertained a visitor in the form of a fellow-inventor Thomas Alva Edison of the USA who used the tower and its height to test his own wireless and radio inventions. The view from this level is even more scintillating for the mountain on which Sacre-Coeur stands is dwarfed. You also can see the Arc de Triomphe very clearly as well as the avenues that radiate from out of it to form a star (the Etoile) after which the entire square (or circle) is named. You can see the island of Grenelle and Lady Liberty holding aloft her torch. You can see the Palais de Chaillot with its lovely classical semi-circular design. You can see the Musee de Quai Blanly designed again by the famed Jean Nouvel only a few blocks away with its interesting glass walls and its lovely landscaped garden. Basically, from this height, you can see everything and you can see it from an entirely novel and quite incredible perspective. So, in every respect, I was completely floored by my first-time rising to the Eiffel Tower’s summit and it was with difficulty that I dragged myself away after using the facilities on the lower level again. It was 12.30 pm by the time I left the premises after taking a few pictures.

Off to La Defence:

            Instead of walking towards the metro station at Bir-Hakeim, I decided to cross the river Seine just in front of the Eiffel Tower and walk past the gardens of the Palais de Chaillot towards the metro station at Trocadero. From there, I took the metro to La Defence, a rather longish journey (but free today as a result of Paris’ continued pollution) as I wanted to see the gigantic contemporary arch that has been built there, up close and personal. It was very easy to get there and, basically, all I expected was to see the Arch and to take a few pictures.

            What I did not expect to find and what I did see was a huge Christmas Market that had sprouted up in the courtyard that is surrounded by a concrete jungle—for La Defence is similar to London’s Canary Wharf or New York’s Financial District. It is a glass and concrete jungle filled with banks and other financial institutions and surrounded by upscale stores that cater to the heavy-walleted. Naturally, I cannot pass by a Christmas Market without browsing through it and since it was lunch-time, I was fortunate to be offered a lot of tasters—cheese, honey, nougat, sausages. It was lovely to nibble as I had begun to feel hunger pangs. After I had spent about half an hour taking in the sight of all these edible goodies and having passers-by take my picture against the towering arch, I got on to the metro again and set off for my next destination: the Church of Sacre-Coeur at Montmartre.

Visiting Montmartre:

            On past visits to Paris, I have thoroughly scoured Montmartre which is rich in artistic history—many Impressionist painters had either made their homes in the area of had hung out here (as Picasso did at the Lapin Agile, a local bar). On this occasion, with less time to linger, I made it quickly out of the metro station at Abbesse (which I always admire for its original Art Nouveau-style arched iron-work at the metro stairwell) and followed signs along Rue Yvonne Le Tac to the funicular train. Indeed, on past visits, I have actually climbed up and down the lovely set of stairs that leads to the top of the mountain. This time, I was content to do it the easier way.

            The funicular train, which is ordinarily accessible by a metro ticket, was also free today. Luckily, there were not a lot of people and although one of the trains was out of service (annoying!), the ride to the top did not involve a wait of longer than 20 minutes. They were, however, 20 minutes on my feet—so my fatigue levels were also growing consistently as the day progressed.

Visiting The Church of Sacre-Coeur:

            Once I got off the funicular train, I made my way towards the main entrance of the church as that was my first priority. There were lots of people milling around the steps that provide strategic picture ops as the entire city of Paris seems to lie at your feet. I had my own picture taken and then began the ascent to the church entrance.

            Mass was going on when I entered the church—so I crept around as quietly as I could, stayed on the last pew and said a prayer. The altar is remarkable for its mosaic work and its lovely sculptures of Christ. There was a crib up already—even though it was only early December. A few minutes later, I was out of the church and making a right out of the exit towards the Place du Tertre.

            The Place du Tertre is the biggest attraction of the area. It is a cobbled square in which artists take up residence to paint portraits, do caricatures or present you with pen and ink drawings of your likeness. Through the years, almost all members of our family have had their likeness sketched here and I have framed versions of them in our home in Connecticut. The square is surrounded by restaurants and eateries that spill on to the pavement during the summer in the typical French concept of the café-trottoir. However, in winter the entire atmosphere is different. The large trees have lost their foliage and rise bare towards the skies. There are fewer artists, fewer people and the pavement chairs and tables were nowhere to be seen. I walked around the area and felt somewhat forlorn by its emptiness. There was no reason to linger any longer although the souvenir shops were tempting. A few minutes later, I walked as briskly as I could across the cobbled streets and arrived at the stop for the funicular train from where I made my way down quite easily.

            Since there was a Fragonard shop right at the funicular train stop, I popped into it to try to find a particular item I was seeking: a small set of ten perfumes. Alas, it has been discontinued—all they carry now are the ten eau de toilettes (much lighter versions) of their signature fragrances.

Off to the Louvre:

            With three major items ticked off my To-Do List for the day, it was only left for me to make a visit to the Musee Louvre. It was about 4.30 pm and I knew that since the museum is open on Fridays until 9.45 pm, I had several hours ahead of me to view its treasures. I have, of course, been to the Louvre several times—and I do have my favorite canvasses to which I say Hello each time I am there. I also adore the building itself—the gorgeous confection of a Palace that the Bourbon kings added to as they multiplied their wealth and their desire for luxury. The galleries themselves are so splendidly decorated that most of the time I am taking in their treasures rather than the stacks of paintings, sculpture and decorative arts that actually make up this diverse and quite overwhelming collection.

            Emerging out of the metro through a quite different way this time (underground, through a large upscale mall), I arrived at the base under the marvelous glass triangular canopy created by the Chinese-American architect I.M. Pei. I headed straight for the cloak room, left my bag there, then headed to the ticket office where my Met ID card got me free entry into the museum—a huge bonus! With the museum’s floor plan in my hands, I tried to find my way through the three wings that comprise this humongous space: the Denton, Sully and Richelieu wings.    

            So here is what I managed to cover on this trip, beginning my wandering at 5.00 pm.

1.     Winged Victory of Samotrace (classical sculpture believed to be figurehead on ship’s prow).

2.     The Borghese Athlete.

3.     The Battle of Romano by Paolo Ucello

4.     Portrait of Grandfather and Grandson by Ghiurlandaio.

5.     The Visitation by Sandro Botticelli

6.     St. John the Baptist by Leonardo da Vince.

7.     Madonna of the Rocks by L da Vini.

8.     Portrait of Italian Female Aristocrat by L da Vinci

9.     Madonna with St. Anne and Jesus by L da Vinci

10.  Wedding Feast at Cana by Paolo Veroneze

11.  Mona Lisa by Leonardo da Vinci

12.  Odalisque by Titian

13.  Coronation of Napoleon by Jacque-Louis David

14.  Portrait of Female French Aristocrat by J.L David

15.  Murder of Horatio by J.L. David

16.  Rape of the Sabines by J.L. David

17.  Crown of St. Louis (This is a replica). I adore the gallery in which this is displayed as it is stacked with portraits of French worthies from the Baroque period.

18.  Crown of Josephine

19.  Michelangelo Showing the Pope his Plan for St. Peter’s Basilica.

20.  The Seated Scribe

21.  Venus da Milo

22.  One of the Parthenon Marbles

23.  Dying Slave by Michelangelo

24.  Liberty Leading the People by Delacroix

25.  Raft of the Medusa by Gericault

26.  Two Sisters Readings by Renoir

27.  The Astronomer by Vermeer

28.  Lace Maker by Vermeer

29.  Lute Player by Franz Hals

30.  Self-Portrait by Rembrandt

31.  Bathsheba by Rembrandt

Needless to say, in addition to seeing all these highlights and more, I took loads of pictures of the interiors, especially the ceilings as their decoration is quite lavish. Also as darkness fell over the city, the Louvre was illuminated with the loveliest, softest lighting, I took many pictures of the courtyards of the Palace of the Louvre—but none did justice to their beauty.

I was ready to collapse with fatigue by the time I finished at 8. 30 pm. I also had the good fortune of meeting an Indian art scholar called Usha Sharma who told me that she teaches courses on Indian Art in Paris. I hastened out of the museum and took the metro to get myself back to my place where I reached at 9.30 and went straight to bed.

My second-last day in Paris had been chocobloc—but what a blast I had! As it turned out, every item of my To-Do and To-Taste List had been covered! I could pay myself on the back as I fell asleep for tomorrow, all I have to do is pack and clear up his room and check out.

A demain…

 

First-Time Forays into Islamic Paris...and Other Attractions

December 8, 2016, Thursday: Paris

First-Time Forays into Islamic Paris…and other Attractions

            For some odd reason, I had a rather late start today—probably was not woken up by the tram bell outside my window. A 7.45 am rising is late by my standards. I had a Pierre Herme Ispahan croissant for brekkie with orange juice, showered and got dressed. I left my place at 10. 45 after carefully drawing up a route that would take me to parts of Paris into which I had never before ventured.

 Exploring the Jardin des Plantes:

            My first stop of the day was at the Jardin des Plantes (Botanical Garden) and the reason for my visit was the magnificent novel by Anthony Doerr called All The Light You Cannot See, winner of the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction and the best novel I had read in 2014. The initial section of the novel is set here in the Botanical Garden in general and the Museum of Natural History in particular as it is where the museum is located. The father of the female protagonist of the novel, Marie-Laure, is one of the curators of the museum and his task is to keep the keys of the museum safe as well as a fictional stone that is usually on view at the Museum of Natural History. As an old woman and a survivor of World War II, Marie-Laure returns to Paris and makes her home close to the Museum and to the Botanical Garden where she passes most evenings in the company of her grand-son. 

            Because I had been so taken by this splendid novel and because I had never been to the Botanical Garden, I decided that I would visit it this time round as well as check out the Museum of Natural History. I was completely floored by the Botanical Garden. It was huge—extensive and well-manicured. There are alles of linden trees (which, because it was nearly winter, were stripped of their foliage) that provide wonderful walking paths through the garden. The alles are lined on both sides by glass conservatories and by a number of buildings. I soon discovered that those buildings comprise the Museum of Natural History as it is not one building but about 12—scattered all over Paris, although about six of them surround the alles. I took several pictures of the garden and the conservatories and then made my way into the Museum of Paleontology where a number of dinosaur skeletons attract large numbers of children. Unfortunately, each of the museums has a different entry fee—there is no single fee to cover them all. By the time one sees them all, one has spent a small fortune. They would not recognize my Met ID card and I did not wish to spend too much time in any one of them. I decided, therefore, to merely poke my head into the Museum of Mineralogy where the fictitious stone would have been stored and to take a couple of pictures there.

            Then, I left the museum and the Botanical Garden and went on to the next attraction on my list—the rarely-visited Grand Mosque of Paris.

 The Grand Mosque of Paris:

To enter the Grand Mosque in Paris is to enter into an altogether different world. It is hard to believe that you are in Europe—you would think you were somewhere in Northern Africa: in Algeria, Tunisia or Morocco (artisans from these countries had been specially commissioned to undertake the job). The mosque is large and beautiful. It has all the characteristics of Islamic architecture plus gorgeous decorative tile-work that is reminiscent of the Al-Hambra in Granada, Spain. The central courtyard concept is in force with rooms radiating out from a very lovely garden that fills one with a sense of spiritual serenity. There is a towering minaret in the North African style. Visitors are free to wander around anywhere—there is a really large hall with a central fountain with all sorts of decorative tile work. The only room you that non-Muslims cannot enter is the Prayer Room itself which contains the Mihrab. Since it was not a Friday, it was rather quiet at the mosque but a few worshippers were around, both in the corridors and in the Prayer Room (you can get a quick glimpse from the main door). I took so many pictures as I was completely enthralled by this unusual structure right in the middle of Paris—it was so hard for me to believe that right across the street was the 19^th century Botanical Gardens. It really is a quite distinctive place to visit and I am glad I went.

            The mosque has a restaurant attached that offers Middle Eastern and North African cuisine such as mezzes and tagines. It is set in a lovely shady garden (if you prefer to sit outdoors) or inside in a space that resembles a souk or a casbah. As I said, everything about this place is enchanting—even if you are not a Muslim (perhaps especially if you are not a Muslim).

 Visiting the Institute du Monde Arabe:

            Co-incidentally, although I had not actually planned for it, I went from one Islamic space to the next—but from the sacred to the secular. When I lived in Paris, a few years ago, I used to pass in the bus by this striking building that I realized was designed by the renowned French architect, Jean Nouvel. It is on most tourist maps of Paris, but somehow I had never found the time to explore it. This visit would remedy the omission.

            It was a twenty minute walk from the Mosque to the Institute which is sweetly located on the banks of the Seine. It is a nine-story structure that looks like a cube. It has a huge Omani dhow right outside it—a gift from Oman whose government has sponsored the special exhibition on right now called ‘Sea-farers of the Mediterranean.’ I was fortunate that my Met ID was recognized here. I was handed different ticket stubs to get to the different floors, on each of which they was a different exhibition. Two floors contain objects that remain permanently in place—they range from illuminated Korans to ancient pottery. I also saw a special exhibition on the Bhiksha Oasis which is in the North African country of Algeria. The ‘Sea-Farers of the Mediterranean’ exhibition was splendid. It carried vast amounts of material on a number of countries, explorers and navigators from the Islamic world whose courage and vision opened up the area to the rest of the world.

            In-between seeing the floors, I sat on a bench and ate my smoked salmon baguette. I stayed for another hour as I rode up and down the glass elevators inside the building which allowed me to admire the wonderful architectural work of Nouvel with its emphasis on thousands of pipes that form sharp angles in the interior or the building. The top-most floor is an empty viewing terrace with a small café attached to it. It does, of course, offer lovely views of Paris and of the Seine and I took them all in with deep pleasure. When I was done, I walked out of the Institute, quire pleased that I have covered yet another item on my To-Do List.

 A Bit of Shopping:

            From this point on, I decided to go out in search of a French beret together with one of the woolen caps that are now sporting fur pom-poms. My idea was to detach one of the pompoms and sew it on to one of the berets in imitation of a favorite hat I had once owned but which I had lost, much to my sorrow. This specific need involved getting to the side streets around the Cathedral of Notre-Dame where the inexpensive souvenir stores sell the sort of item I was seeking. It took me absolute ages and a great deal of sweat equity to track down the hats I wanted at the right price. After scouring at least half a dozen stores, I found exactly what I wanted and couldn’t have been happier.

 Ice-Cream, Marron Glaces and Other Goodies at the Ile de St. Louis:

            Since I was so close to the Ile de Saint Louis, I had to go in search of some ice-cream at Berthillon. And after I had my treat, I stepped into a cookie store where I received a few more goodies for sampling. Then, on passing a candy shop, I stepped in, on impulse, to buy myself a marron glace (glazed chestnut) as this is a French specialty that is very popular at Christmastime and which I had never tasted. Keen to see what all the fuss was about and wondering why these little confections are so expensive, I bought myself one and was completely surprised—both at the taste and the texture of it—it was spongy, not hard (and I am still wondering what all the fuss is about!). But then there you have it! Another item ticked off my To-Taste List!

Off to the Bastille for a Croque Monsieur:

            Also on my To-Eat List before I left Paris was a really good Croque Monsieur—which, as most people know, is a ham and cheese sandwich that is dipped in a Mornay sauce and grilled. I have loved Croque Monsieurs since I first tasted them, about thirty years ago. And on every trip to France, I make sure I eat at least one. When I lived in Paris, I made them at home very frequently for it is the wonderful. combination of smoked ham and Swiss cheese (found most flavorfully in France) that make the best Croques.

            Well, having done my research on the internet (to find the best Croque Monsieur in Paris), I was directed to the Cafe des Phares which is right at the Place de la Bastille. So I went on the metro from ‘St. Mich’ (as St. Michel is known) to Bastille and as soon as I emerged from the metro, I spied the restaurant across the wide circle.  I made a beeline for it and settled myself down at a table and gave my order for a Croque Monsieur and a café au lait—it would be a very early dinner.

            My Croque was wonderful. It was best when it was freshly served to me and since I love eating my food piping hot, I did not wait too long for it to cool down. As it cooled, it got less and less succulent—in fact, it started to get rubbery as the melted fondue-like cheese hardened. Served with a salad and my coffee, it was a great meal. As you can see, I seem to have lost my inhibitions altogether about dining alone in restaurants. The French seem to have no problem with it at all and seem not in the slightest bit surprised when I request a table for one and place a single order. As it turned out, at the next table was seated an African-American couple who, lost little time in getting friendly with me. We had a very nice conversation. He happened to be a former restauranteur who has lived in Paris for the past forty years and she, his friend, turned out to someone in international finance who was taking a year off to travel and had made Paris a temporary base. One of the best things about being a solo sojourner is that you make friends with all types of people who reach out and include you in conversation—so that you are never really completely or uncomfortably alone.

            A little while later, after clearing my bill, I took the metro from Bastille and got back home. As I had a very early dinner and had sat up communicating on my computer to so many people, I had myself a late-night snack of salad and yoghurt and then fell asleep just past midnight.

 

          A demain...

 

 

 

 

T'Was All About Impressionism...Macarons...and Crepes.

December 6, 2016, Tuesday: Paris

Today was all About Impressionism…Macarons and Crepes

            I awoke at 6.00 am (yes, to the sound of the tram bell). I showered and fixed myself a smoked salmon baguette with salad which I would carry for lunch and ate pain de chocolat for brekkie. By the time I left my place it was 9.45. I arrived at my destination, the Musee d’Orsay, at 10.30 am. Having been here several times, I did not expect to stay beyond noon.     

Exploring the Musee D’Orsay:

            I could not have been more delusional. The Musee d’Orsay is so huge and so crammed with artistic wonders that it deserves a whole day devoted to its exploration. As it turned out, I began my examination of its masterpieces quite systematically, on the ground floor, as I took in its sculptural treasures—Rodin, Carpeaux, mixed media African busts by Cordier (which I adore) before I made my way to the end of the hall only to find a special section devoted to the Opera Garnier and the artistic genius of Charles Garnier! Now what are the odds that I would have visited it only the previous day? Had I not taken the tour, I would have just skirted through this exhibition. As it turned out, I gave the section a great deal of time and attention and was completely taken by the model of Paris featuring the Opera building built on scale beneath our feet and protected by a glass floor. There was also a brilliant cross-section of the entire building that gave glimpses of the kind of décor that had fascinated me yesterday. You could see a miniature version in this model of the original ceiling rondel as it had existed before Chagall presented his Modernist one.

            I made my way by elevator then to the top-most floor and decided to head downwards via the stairs. At the top, I came upon the huge clock that acted as the clock of the Gare d’Orsay (when it used to a major railway station). The manner in which this building has been repurposed to house the national Impressionist collection is simply stunning and no matter how often I come here, I still remain awed. Through the clock’s hands, one can see the city of Paris spread out with the church of Sacre-Coeur at Montmartre clearly visible in the distance. As I moved inside, I found the balcony (which is open only in the summer) which offers incredible views of the Seine and the buildings on its banks including the Louvre. Of course, once my viewing of the paintings began, there was no stopping my camera. I clicked incessantly—from Whistler’s Mother to Manet’s Flautist and Odalisque, from landscapes and snowscapes by Sisley and Pisarro to Monet’s Poppies, Ladies with a Parasol and his Waterlilies, from Renoir’s portrait of a very young Monet to his portrait of Berthe Morrisot and his twin paintings of City and Country Dancing, from Cezanne’s mountain views and Card Players to a few by Rousseau—all the Masters were there, vying for attention. I went past the Café Campagna and made my way to the lower floor where the grandeur of the Impressionists continued. I took some more pictures of works by Van Gogh, Seurat and Cezanne and then eventually, with my tummy rumbling and my feet begging for a rest, I went into a small café and ordered a sandwich. I did have my own in my bag but I simply could not find the space to sit down and eat my own lunch. The sandwich I bought was eaten at a stand-up counter but it gave me the rest I needed.

            During the second half of my tour of the museum, I focused on the lowest level and as I wound my way in and out of the galleries, I saw works by Bonnard, Courbet and even Modernists like Picasso. The lower level presents a mixed bag—there are gigantic works and there are very small canvasses. I was fairly drooping with fatigue by the time I finished looking at every painting, but as I was keen to see Manet’s Dejeuner Sur L’Herbe and could not find it in its regular position, I asked a guard where it could be. He told me that it had been moved temporarily into the special exhibition on the ‘Second Empire’. So off I went to the opposite side of the lowest level and there I gave myself up to the thrill of seeing all sorts of 19^th century items--from letters and sculpture to paintings and decorative objects: some of which were so stunning that they took my breathe clean away. Finally, in the last gallery, I did see the Manet masterpiece I had been seeking and when I had taken a good close look at it (for the nth time), I decided to get a move on—as I was really really tired. So, in the end, by the time I left the Musee d’Orsay, it was 4.00 pm!

Off to Pierre Herme for Macarons:

            When I had last lived in Paris, four years ago, I had indulged in a great deal of gastronomic treats from artisanal bread from Eric Kayser and cheese from Barthelemy…but one thing I hadn’t quite managed to taste were the incredible macarons made by the inventor of them himself—Pierre Herme. This time I was determined not to leave Paris without sourcing, finding and feasting on them. I had used the internet to find out that one of his extraordinary patisseries is near St. Suplice Chruch and that was where I took the metro in search of it. I found it soon enough and when I went inside, I saw that he had a special Christmas range based on foie gras. It was not long before I bought a box of macarons—7 come in a long box—plus a special one made with truffles (that comes in its own special packet). I was pleased to take them home and enjoy each one separately. I also bought two of his croissants—one being his signature IsfahanL a combination of rose, raspberry and lychee (flavors that had resulted in the creation of his famous pastry called the Ispahan)—well, this was the croissant equivalent. I also bought his Croissant Poire William, filled with a pear puree and studded with candied pears. Breakfast for the next couple of days was sorted! And would be special!

 Crepes for Dinner in Little Brittany:

            Also on my list of Must-Do Items before leaving Paris was eating crepes—and since Lonely Planet had extolled the virtues of a place called Chez Josephine in Little Brittany, off I went to find it. It was practically in the shadow of Tour Montparnasse. It had turned dark by the time I reached there…and guess what??? It was closed on Tuesdays!!! Duh Me! Well, I had no choice but to look for an alternative place and I found it at Creperie Bretonne. There, I settled down in an empty creperie, after I inquired and found out that it was not too early for me to be served dinner at 5.00 pm. I chose to each a Crepe Rennes which was filled with ham, Swiss cheese and mushrooms—and it was scrumptious! I savored it with a large decaff café au lait and feeling very pleased with my very early dinner, I made my way out about an hour later.

 Home to Relax:

            Fairly falling with fatigue, I made my way back home on the metro and reached at 6. 30 pm. I sat propped up in bed and caught up with email and the world’s news and facetimed with Llew. Then, at about 9.00 pm, I ate a smoked salmon salad that I made with my greens, smoked salmon, blue cheese and nuts—douzed with salad dressing. When I felt ready for bed, I brushed and flossed my teeth and turned out the light.

            A demain!  

Two Items Ticked Off a Parisian To-Do List: Opera Garnier and Cafe Angelina

December 5, 2016, Monday:

Two Major Parisian Items Ticked off To-Do List—Opera Garnier and Café Angelina for Hot Chocolate           

            Within a couple of days of being in Paris again, I felt as if I had never left. The ease with which I hopped in and out of trains, the fluency with which I spoke French with never a bit of hesitation, the confidence with which I sought out shops I wished to visit (often for the first time) and the determination with which I ticked off items on my Parisian To-Do List astounded even me.

            Best of all was the daily waking to the sound of the tram bell outside my window on Boulevarde Jourdan which filled me with nostalgia for the summer when I used to live in the apartment next-door. When I drew my curtains back, I gasped for at 8.00 am, Paris was still pitch dark. In another hour, however, things had changed completely and by 9.00am, daylight had flooded the area, Parc Montsourris across the street had opened for the day, dog-walkers and joggers had begun taking their daily constitutionals and the day got on. I promised myself that I would ride the tram at least once and take a stroll around Parc Montsourris at least once before I left. And in this way, although I began to whittle my To-Do List down, I also constantly added to it.

            I decided to shower in the morning before I left (as there was no hurry to start my day), folded my laundry, scoured websites to find out where to go and how to get there and grabbing two pain au chocolat from my stash, I left my place at 9.45 by the RER (B) and the metro to get to the Opera Garnier. Although I have loved this building for ages, I have never visited its interior—this was the day I would take a tour.

Exploring the Opera Garnier:

            I arrived at the main entrance of the beautiful Opera Garnier building through the metro station called Opera—this brings you right to the junction where the Opera building meets other swanky streets. I spied Rue du Scribe and immediately decided that I would go to Fragonard, the French perfumier, to buy more goodies as gifts for London friends, right after my tour.

            Inside, at the Box Office, they honored my Met ID card but I did pay 5 euros for a self-guided tour (which was simply brilliant) as I was unable to get a guided tour (one has to book in advance and pay 15 euros for it).

            The Opera Garnier was Paris’ original Opera House (it is no longer in use for operas as there is a new one at the Bastille). It was built in the late 19^th century by Charles Garnier—after whom it is named—who was Paris’ best-known architect. He knew he was getting a grand commission when named architect and he poured his greatest talent and vision into the enterprise. I consider his work on this building equivalent to the building of St. Paul’s Cathedral in London by Sir Christopher Wren in 1672.

            The moment you enter this building, you stagger in disbelief, for it is so visually spectacular as to leave you speechless. Garnier spared absolutely no expense in creating this magnificent building. You start your tour in a circular Rotunda that has arched entrances and a grand stuccoed ceiling. It leads you into a vestibule that is noted for a very delicate sculpture of a lovely woman. Both sides of the vestibule are lined with floor to ceiling mirrors which can be very deceptive. You think that there are rooms beyond and then you realize that you are looking at yourself in the mirror—I must admit I got a bit of a shock when I realized that the reflection looking back at me was my own!

            From this point, the grand sweeping marble staircase branches out into two sides and takes you to another stupendous landing where the interior structure becomes even more ornate. There are marble balconies emanating from both sides, there are loads of delicate sculpture, there are candleabras held in the hands of clusters of bronze nymphs. The ceilings are painted in the style of the ceilings of French castles and palaces. After you climb another set of stairs, you arrive at yet another landing where the sight of two caryatids catch your attention. They are created out of mixed media—bronze body parts, marble clothing.  Needless to say, visitors can be heard gasping audibly and cameras do not cease clicking. When you position yourself in-between the caryatids, you get sterling views of the higher levels of the building that seem to open up with such a wealth of decorative detail that it beggars description.

            When you pass through the doorway flanked by the caryatids, you find yourself facing a door that leads to the Main Auditorium. Plush with red velvet seats and a horseshoe-shaped structure, it is similar to London’s Royal Albert Hall. The most interesting aspect is the ceiling which was once painted by a contemporary of Garnier but was repainted in 1964 by the Russian artist Marc Chagall. Not an inch of the auditorium is left undecorated. In the center is the notorious chandelier that plays such a big role in the opera, The Phantom of the Opera. In fact, there is a reference to the Phantom during the audio tour and visitors are directed to Box Number 5 at the end of the corridor where the Phantom (the ghost of the opera house) was known to lurk.

            There are many marble busts of opera composers encircling the outside of the auditorium and prominent among these is one of Berlioz who was extremely popular in the time of Garnier. From this point on, the audio guide took me to parts of the building that were simply stacked with visual details—mosaics on the ceiling, paintings on the wall, sculpture every which way you turned. I entered a lovely circular Hall that was used during the intermissions for the devouring of ice-cream (I realize now where the tradition of selling ice-cream in the London theaters originates). This Hall is filled with beautiful panel paintings that depict the consumption of different kinds of food and drink. You then pass through a Solar Room—on the opposite side is a Lunar Room. At the very top, you get a sweeping view of the horseshoe-shaped staircase in its multiple levels until you get to the piece de resistance, the Hall of Mirrors.

            The Hall of Mirrors at the Palais Garnier was created in imitation of the one to be found at the Palais de Versailles. Visitors are simply overwhelmed by what they see: ceilings and walls are covered with paintings in the Baroque style with classical gods and goddesses attended to by a multitude of heavenly beings, huge blazing chandeliers hang low from the ceiling, gilded sculpted rondels on the walls and ceiling, parquet flooring, Greek-style figures holding up giant clocks. After you have seen this gallery, everything else pales into insignificance.

            There are, however, still many more rooms to be seen: the museum of fine arts, for instance, is filled with paintings depicting the opera house, opera stars through the ages and composers of various vintage. In the main entrance lobby, there are four marble sculptures of well-known opera composers. By this point in the tour, you are visually exhausted. However, the tour then takes you to the extensive gift shops where there is everything to purchase that your heart could desire.

It was about 12 noon when I emerged from the Opera Garnier, having undertaken one of the more stupendous visits of my travels. It was one of the best things I have seen in Paris. Although the place is used today for ballet and other dance performance, I would urge anyone going to Paris for the first time, not to miss a visit to the Opera Garnier. Not a moment inside it is ever wasted.

 Off to Fragonard:

            Fragonard was just across the road in the Musee de Parfums. First-time visitors can take a guided tour of the grand hotel particulier (private mansion) that has been taken over by the company to showcase its involvement in the perfume industry. I had taken the tour on a previous visit to Paris—and so I went directly to the show room to buy myself some more soaps (I adore their flower-scented set of five) and sets of perfume. Was delighted to find sets that also featured a gold bracelet. I bought a couple and left.

In Search of Lunch at Frenchie:

            By this point, I thought I ought to look for lunch and using Lonely Planet, I went in search of Frenchie—a small bistro, they said, with really good food. It was simplicity itself for me to use the public transport system as I possess a Navigo card (equivalent of London’s Oyster Card)—all I needed to do was top it up for a week of unlimited travel. As it turned out, it was a waste in my case and Paris happened to be riddled by pollution (because of unexpected changes in the atmosphere) and in an attempt to keep people off the streets, the public transport system was offered free of charge to all commuters for three consecutive days—so my pass for a week turned out to be a rather expensive buy. The 3-day free concession brought a bunch of beggars into the metro system and for the next couple of days, one was plagued by them as they got off the streets and on to the trains.

            When I got to Frenchie, however, I found it closed for lunch on Mondays. However, on taking a look at its menu, I found it to be stacked with American fast-food type offerings such as hamburgers, corned beef Reuben sandwiches and pancakes that were quite unappealing to me. Everything was also frightfully expensive. I, therefore, walked out (the space was tiny  and there was no room at all), and found a Subway shop from where I bought a Sub Raclette—made with typically French-Swiss cheese such as Emmentaler. Having eaten it, I continued with my touring for the day.

Off to the Church of Madeleine:

            I got back on the metro and arrived again at Opera and walked a couple of blocks around the square that surrounds the church of Madeleine in order to indulge in some degustation—the French art of tasting food. Although the famous Fauchon was open and offered the pleasure of tasting a few teas and a couple of other nibbles, Hediard, another temple to gastronomy was closed temporarily for long-term renovation. A notice on the door advised patrons to buy their supplies online. I also then made my way to the Pinoteque—a theater that showcased avant garde movies and theatrical offerings, but, to my amazement, it had closed down sometime last year and nothing has taken its place.

            Making my way to the main entrance of the Church, I entered its hushed dark interior and walked towards the front to spend a few minutes in quiet prayer. Built in extreme classical style—a simple cube surrounded by Corinthian columns and topped with a carved pediment featuring Christ in the Heavens—it is quite a commanding presence.

 Looking for the Jeu de Paume and the ‘Ring Trick’:

            My next port of call was the Museum known as the Jeu de Paume which, before the conversion of the Gare d’Orsay into the Musee d’Orsay, i.e. about 35 years ago, used to hold the country’s collection of Impressionist paintings. Since then, it has been used to hold exhibitions of photography and since I had never been inside, I decided to pop in.

However, as I was walking on the Rue Royale, past all the showrooms containing French decorative arts (such as Lalique, Christofle and Daum), I was almost taken in by what is called the ‘ring trick’. A woman just ahead of me bent down and picked up a gold ring. She offered it to me and said that her religion that she told me was Presbyterian, did not allow her to keep it. I took a look at it and saw that it was unlikely to be real gold. But inside there were hallmarks! I told her that I did not want it and that she could hand it over to the police. She then asked me for a few euros as it was her lucky day! I almost put my hands into my bag to give her a few when I realized that the whole thing was a set-up about which I had actually been warned by Lonely Planet. In fact, I was annoyed at myself for almost getting taken in by it. As she waited to get a few euro coins from me, I told her that I was not happy about tricked in this fashion and walked right away.

When, a few minutes later, I did get to the Jeu de Paume, alas, it is closed on Mondays—which made my visit futile.                                     

 Hot Chocolate and Afternoon Tea at Café Angelina:

            I walked briskly along Rude de Rivoli in search of Café Angelina which supposedly serves the best hot chocolate in Paris. In the past, I have tried the teas at Laudree, another salle de the of exceeding fame and popularity in Paris. But my friend Delyse had told me about Café Angelina and I decided to check it out this time round. Its hot chocolate is so decadent that they actually serve it with a little pot of whipped cream at the side.            

             I found Café Angelina to be a tea room in the grand French style—dripping with dazzling chandeliers and lined by marble paneling. There were little round marble tables and I was seated at one on a round chair into which I sank. When I looked at the menu, I discovered that Hot Chocolate and a pastry would cost me only a few euros less than the full Afternoon Tea which included sandwiches and a selection of pastries and cakes in addition to the hot chocolate for 20 euros. My initial unease at being alone in the establishment was soon dispelled by the fact that I noticed so many single women sipping tea or hot cholate alone and tucking into the pastry—so what I had attempted to do was far from unusual.

            My Afternoon Tea arrived on a two-tiered stand with savories on one level (finger sandwiches composed of chicken salad, ham and cheese and smoked salmon) as well as a cheese scone and a top level that contained a raspberry pastry, a lemon macaron, a madeleine (how can you have tea in France without a macaron and a madeleine, right?) and a small Mont Blanc which is a pastry that was created at Café Angelina. It is a chocolate-based pastry, topped with a chestnut flavored cream frosting and filled with chocolate ganache and whipped cream. You can order a single one (which is much larger) or this miniature version which offers you a sampling of it as well as other pastries. As for the hot chocolate? Was it as good as promised? Well, let’s just say it was terrific and I would gladly have had at least another cup. 

            It was while I was seated at Café Angelina and using their wifi to check messages on my phone that I received the shock of my life. Our NYU-London site director, a fine colleague and a good friend of mine, had passed away after a brief illness. I found myself reeling with a sense of sudden bereavement. How was it possible that someone so vibrant and so dynamic could just fade away? Only two weeks previously, he had played such a big role in the presentation I had made to NYU faculty members and staff in London. And now he was gone. Just like that. I found it hard to contain my grief.     

            Towards the end of my long stay at Café Angelina (where I did not feel in the slightest hurried), a young couple of Indian heritage occupied the table next to me. We entered into conversation and I soon discovered that they were from Long Island! For the next half hour, we chatted until I felt rested enough and decided to leave.

            Darkness had fallen over the city although it was still pretty early in the evening. Had I more energy, I would have stayed outdoors and nipped off to another venue. But I was dead tired and the sad news had robbed me of a good mood. I was ready to call it a night. So I took the metro home, reached at 7. 30 pm and got ready for bed where I checked email. My late full tea did not require me to eat dinner. I was, therefore, off to sleep by 9.00 pm.

            A demain…