Our third day in Paris I woke up, threw open the windows and started the coffee. For breakfast I had something new, a croissant au chocolat aux amandes. I had read in a cookbook that my moma got me for Christmas (Bouchon, to be exact) that when French boulangeries have leftover croissant rolls, they have an ingenious way to repurpose them. They fill them with a gorgeous almond cream, top them with some sliced almonds and rebake into a glorious new creation that is croissant aux amandes. But please note that mine had the added attraction of chocolat, wink-wink. For someone who doesn't eat breakfast, I could really get used to this.
As we walked to the metro we decided to take a peek into a beautiful building on our street. Above an arched doorway it read, Hotel de Sully. Turns out the "hotels" of the area (like Hotel de Ville) were not places to rent a room, like the name implies. They were the private mansions where the rich lived in during the 1700's.
Andrea and I wondered at the time if it was actually a hotel, because people were wandering in and out of the courtyard. We pretended that we belonged and brazenly walked right in. Above the beautiful entrance on Rue St Antoine that leads into a cobbled courtyard.
There we saw these amazing sphinx guarding the door. Have you ever heard the legend of the Sphinx of Giza in Egypt? An Egyptian prince fell asleep in front of it and dreamed that it whispered to him to free it from the sands that had covered it all the way to it's neck. He did and became Pharaoh, just as she had promised. These sphinx look like they would whisper terrible and mysterious things.
This is the le passage out the other side to the street behind. Lots of the huge buildings have doors like this that are often locked. On the times when you see them open, or peek through a metal grate, you can literally see the light at the end of the tunnel. At the entrance door Andy put her hand on the door knocker to show the massive size. Isn't it great?
This is a statue of a man that we passed every time we got near the Bastille. I don't recognize the name, but I love how benevolently he gazes down, almost as if saying, "You again? Well, go forth and have adventures. I'll be here when you get back." I could use one in my yard for encouragement.
Psst, it's a great door...
After that we headed to metro. Our first destination of the day was the Musee de Orsay, housed in an old train station. Not only is it across the Seine from our Marais district, but it was going to take multiple transfers to different platforms to get to it. Each metro in France runs one line, all the way to one point and back. So if you want to go somewhere further away, you have to take a station that will lead you to another, take that one on to another...It was all very confusing at the time, but I am delighted to say that we were masters of the metro by the time we left!
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| I took this picture because I had read a French woman commenting on how sad she found it that they were taking down the old tile frames where they hang advertisements and the names in the metros and making things new. Some of the frames were gold, some blue- each station had it's own style. It would be terrible to lose that. |
Can I brag that a French woman got onto the metro and asked ME if it would take her to her destination of Gare d'lest? It's true! And I could tell her that yes, it did, and point it out on the route map inside the car. I was a bit puffed up after that ;).
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| This metro platform has great Art Deco looking tiles. |
Anyhoo, on this particular day I was the one asking the questions. I spied a little man examining that map just as I was, and asked if he spoke English. The answer was a firm headshake no. So I queried him in French as how to get to Musee de Orsay. "Orsay?" he asked, then studied the map. Through his French, and me following the route he described with my finger as he nodded, we reached an understanding. I thanked him heartily. It made me want to do a drawling rendition of Blanche du Bois from the old movie A Street Car Named Desire- "I have always relied on the kindness of strangers."
But Edith Wharton said it best when she wrote, "One of the great things about travel is that you find out how many good, kind people there are." So, to all you out there who say that mankind is going to heck in a handbag, well, I'm here to tell you there are some real gems out there.
So we metroed. Yes, I keep making it into a verb. It seems plausible to me. Did you know that there is an Institut de France between Notre Dame and the Orsay? It was established by Cardinal Richelieu of Three Musketeers fame in 1635 to record the French language. Since languages are constantly evolving, they are still at it. It's a group of 40, called "The Immortals", who are only replaced when one dies. I wonder if I could submit "metroed" as a new word? Okay, enough tangent..;)
We took the metro with four changes to the closest station to the Orsay. Andrea was delighted with our walk through that neighborhood because it was slightly different than others we had been through. Even the people were dressed differently, a bit more polished. We were on the Left Bank, which is considered a different region in many ways.
A man's very dapper outfit. We actually saw many men with a scarf and/or hat like this, with suits and very beautiful, very expensive looking shoes.
A classic example of great Parisian fashion. A black ruffled jumpsuit with Burgundy lace-up oxfords, right in front of the museum. There we tried what looked like an entrance, only to find that it went down to the train platform. We were directed outside to a kiosk to buy our Museum Pass. A museum pass is good for 2 or more days, the cost is by the amount of time. It is an excellent buy, as it gets you into just about every museum and church you can think of. It is even a pass for a day trip to Versailles!
We went to the kiosk to buy one and I anticipated a ticket machine. Instead there was a smiling gentleman. I asked if he sold museum passes and told him how many days we wanted. In turn, he asked us where we were from. (How on earth could he tell we weren't natives?!) We said America and he smiled and nodded. Then I asked where we should enter. He got a coy grin and said, "Gate C. Like Clinton, no?" I know my face immediately looked pained and he had a good laugh. Then he asked, "And what do you think of your new president?" My face always gives me away and while I tried to think of something tactful, Andrea came to the rescue. "We've decided to move to France," she joked. "Ah! Welcome, welcome, " he said. And it was with much laughter we entered the Musee de Orsay.
The museum was originally a train station built in 1889 in the Beaux-Arts style. It was the kind of place I'd want to come sweeping into on a train. I mean, just look at this gorgeous clock! It had a restaurant and a grand ball room that was on my list of things to see.
You don't realize how massive the clock is until you see the people under it. This station was the setting for the wonderful "kid's" movie, Hugo, in all it's turn of the century glory. The first thing I asked was the way to the ballroom, only to find out that, like Notre Dame's tower, it was under renovation. So we skirted through part of the museum and took our place in line for the Restaurant de Orsay to open. I had been looking forward to this for a long time. Below is a picture I took through the window while waiting. It was so overwhelmingly lavish that I about wet my pants in anticipation.
It is simply the most exquisite room I have ever been in. I am not a fan of the practice of mixing modern with classic, but to me the Lucite chairs were the perfect compliment, their colors matched the painted ceiling perfectly.
I had real difficulty entering the restaurant. I was trying to follow the hostess, gawk at the dessert cart, and crane my neck at the ceiling all at the same time. All while acting worldly and sophisticated (snort!). It's a miracle I made it to my seat.
I whispered to Andy that I would love to tell the staff that I would stay late to wash the dishes and vacuum, all for free, just so I could lay on my back on the floor and stare at the ceiling for hours. It was all from Greek mythology. Below is Artemis, Goddess of the hunt, with her bow. One handmaiden is carrying a deer she had killed, while the other restrains the hunting hounds.
At the very bottom of this scene are sea nymphs offering up corals and pearls, while off to the side some of Hera's peacock's strut along.
There were big mirrors at either end of the room that reflected the many chandeliers and made the room look like it went on forever.
We were third in line to enter and by the time we ordered the room was full.
Andrea and I ordered the same thing, an asparagus pasta with morels. I figured it would be like a dish here, the morel would be dangled in the sauce just long enough to add some flavor, but we couldn't actually see any. But I bet I had a least four whole morels chopped into mine! We had this with crusty bread and une carafe d'eau, a carafe of water. That is one of the first phrases that I taught myself after learning that drinks from tea to sodas could be 3-6 euro. Let's just say I drank more water in my week in Paris then I probably ever have...
When we entered I asked for our table for two, and ordered in French. When I asked the waitress if I did alright, she smiled and said, "C'est parfait." It was perfect. I know that was far from the truth, but what a way to make my day!
I ate all the morel and most of the asparagus from my pasta. And was still very hungry for a beautiful Pavlova dessert! It had a perfectly crisp meringue base, whipped cream studded with lime zest, and "fruit of the season". Andrea and I both ate some and were stumped! It had the texture of pineapple, but without any of the acidic bite that I dislike about pineapple. Instead it tasted like a very delicate Mandarin orange with a distinctly unorange-y texture. I thought about asking the waitress, but it was so very nice and I kind of liked it being a mystery.
We wandered back out into the museum. Here was one of my favorite sculptures. Dad is not going let that bad old crocodile get the babies, not matter how cute it grins.
My preferred style of painting is Pre-Raphaelite. This is a beautiful one of Romeo and Juliet. My pop and grandma refurbished antique frames for years, so I am as impressed with them as I am the paintings. This one is an ivy clad beauty.
The statue below is my very favorite (and I went on to see Winged Victory and Venus de Milo at the Louvre). I've seen lots of sculpture, but never a composite one like this, all made of different marbles and stones.
Below is another treat. Sarah Bernhardt, the famous American actress's entire apartment was there, in all it's Art Nouveau glory.
Up in the Impressionist rooms we were able to look out from the massive clocks that front the building. Can you make out the building in the distance?
It is the Sacre Coeur, the church we visited on our very first day. Across the Seine and nearly to the outer Periphery. Do you see what I mean about Paris being small enough that you are near to everything? It boggles my mind...
I can appreciate Impressionism, but it is not a favorite. Andrea, however, had never gotten to see any originals. So we took in Van Gogh's self portrait (the one where he still had both ears) and the still life of his bedroom.
Andrea really liked this Pissarro of the woman hanging wash.
Before we left we visited the gift shops. One was nothing but gift items, but the other was a book shop! Andy was on the lookout for a book about Paris landmarks so that she could share it with her two small boys. She found this one and it was so sweet I had to get one also.
This Is Paris is in English and was originally published in the 1950's. Someday I will read it with a grandbaby and say, "Granny stood right there, and Granny went in that door..." It will be wonderful. The pages below are the Bastille and the butcher that sold horsemeat- both things we saw on Monday!
Then we exited the museum and walked down along the Seine. It is lined with houseboats, most of which are permanently docked.
We passed the National Assembly where a branch of the Parliament sits.
And then we came to the Pont Alexandre III. This bridge is considered the most ornate in Paris. It was inaugurated in 1900 for the Exposition Universelle (the World's Fair), as was the Eiffel Tower.
The two gold statues are of Pegasus being restrained.
The women statues at the bases are supposed to represent France in all it's different epochs. I am unsure of which one the lady below represents. I love how nonchalant she is, one leg thrown over with other, swinging a sandal, while she casually rests her sword against her knee. She looks like she totally knows she could take care of business if it's needed.
Here is another delight. It looks like a young Neptune with his trident, riding a toad fish.
Have you ever heard of the lover's lock bridge in Paris? Well, there used to be a bridge (Pont des Arts) with grated sides where generations of people would go to clip on a lock and then throw the key into the river, thereby "locking" their love for eternity. But the blessed thing got so heavy that sections fell into the river. There was an edict of no more locks. But it looks like those sneaky little lovers have found some ways around it. The little girl's flowers have been locked.
Below is one of the amazing lanterns that span the bridge. They, and the streets of Paris, were lit with electricity for the first time for the 1900 World's Fair. And that splash of red at the base...
That's some sweet little frogs that got love-locked, and they don't look real happy about it.
Standing in the middle of the bridge you can look back at the golden dome of Les Invalides, the hospital that Napoleon built for his battle-weary soldiers.
Or a bit to the right and see the Tour Eiffel sticking up like a needle from the trees.
When we crossed the bridge we came to two massive buildings facing each other across the street. These were the Grand Palais and Petit Palais. Both were built as exhibition halls for the Exposition Universelle. It was here that the countries of the world brought their nature wonders and their newest scientific breakthroughs to show off to all people.
This is the Grand Palais with it's arched glass ceilings and at either end are giant statues, each with a chariot of horses. The one facing the Seine is Harmony over Discord, with a man (Harmony) throwing Discord beneath the horses. The picture below is on the opposite corner and is Immortality Outstripping time. Immortality is holding aloft a torch and she had tossed poor Father Time beneath the chariot. All you can see from this angle is the poor guy's outstretched hand reaching toward the tree...
On the other side of the street is the Petit Palais. More gorgeous statuary, and just look at that golden door!
A right turn took us toward Place de Concorde. Here you can see that they are just beginning to assemble to giant Ferris wheel that is at the entrance to the Tuileries Garden. I had been hoping we would get to ride on it!
A verdigris and gold fountain, filled with mer-people, squeezing fish to make them spout.
The stone obelisk below was placed on the spot as a marker for where Madame Guillotine took several thousand Parisian lives. King Louis the XVI was beheaded here. His last words were, "Frenchmen, I die innocent." His wife, Queen Marie Antoinette was brought here from the prison on Ille de Cite. Her last words were, "I'm sorry, sir, I meant not to do it," after she stepped on her executioner's foot. So polite for someone about to be beheaded!
During the Revolution, some 300,000 people were arrested in France, that's one in every 50. One of the ways you aroused suspicion was to have soft smooth hands, a sign of an absence of hard labor. What if the Revolution came here, and the common laborers, who are the backbone of the nation, decided to rise up and overthrow all they said were more privileged? Would your hands be calloused enough to save you? A sobering thought. I would hope that all the burns and scars from cooking and gardening would be enough to save my neck!
King Louis's brother had the 3300 year old stone brought from Luxor, Egypt to this place in Paris to honor the dead king and all those who lost their lives in the Reign of Terror. In golden hieroglyphs, the base shows how they took the stone down from outside the temple of Ramses II, crated it, and floated it down the Nile. From there was put aboard a ship to France.
Here we have come through the golden gate into the Jardin des Tuileries. There is Andy admiring the tiny trees bursting with oranges.
Yes, Jardin means garden, though it didn't look like that to our eyes. In France, a garden is a park with trees and ponds and lots of gravel pathways. There is not a lot of grass anywhere in Paris. And where there is, you keep off of it! The grass is obviously also considered garden. Whatever it looks like, Parisians are an outdoorsy group, and they flock to their gardens/parks at all hours.
Here is a rare example of flowers in the gardens. But perfectly symmetrical and sculptural. I hate to admit it, but I'm an English garden kinda girl, with just tumbles of exuberant blooms all willy-nilly. That would probably give a French gardener a heart attack! Behind is one wing of the Louvre.
Andrea took the amazing panoramic below. It turned out kinda small here, but it gives you an idea of the layout of the building, basically a big horseshoe shape. Did you know that the Louvre originally began as a fort in around 1200? A king looked at it in the 1500's and decided it could be added on to and spruced up and be his palace. Subsequent kings added bits until it had sprawled to the extent you see today. It got its start as a museum under Napoleon. As he defeated countries, he looted artifacts and brought the very best back here to display. The he allowed people to come in and gawk at his treasures. Voila, the Musee du Louvre!
This is the Arc de Triomphe that is the entrance to the Louvre courtyard. Through the arch you can see the controversially modern glass "pyramid" that was built as an entrance to the museum.
We did not go into the Louvre on this day. We were ready to take a rest. So, out we went, through an exit toward the river. Here is the outside of the Louvre, facing the street.
This is the church of St Germain l'Auxerrois. It was rebuilt many times over and is in three completely different styles, making it look like several different churches. It is on Rue du Louvre, and is directly beside the metro back to St Paul.
This is just a gorgeous building. I love the shutters in three different tones of blue, and the tower beside it. Just a little bit of Paris loveliness. It is literally everywhere, but I never got over it.
As we went down our street we bought some nibbles. Andrea said that I really did look Parisian in the picture below, note the baguette sticking out of my bag. The bag also contains three pastries, just in case you were worried I wasn't keeping up with my sugar intake. What I see most in this picture is how my "hump" is getting pink...
We went in a sweet little house goods store and I was in 7th heaven. There were only one or two of each thing, where in America there would be twenty choices, but I loved the French-ness of the items.
Here is
the bit I adore about French shops- I found things, just ordinary
household items, that I would never see in America. Case in point, I got
a long length of clothesline that is wrapped in a plastic coating to
keep it from catching on the clothes or staining. It's in such a cheery shade
of aqua. Then I spied a little powdered sugar sifter for 1 euro!
Next I found packs of both men and women's handkerchiefs. This
was in a tiny little shop with no room for extraneous things.
Obviously, they still consider hankies a necessity. I loved this because
I still carry a handkerchief, and I have had so many people remark to me
that "no one does that anymore". Well, pardonne moi, but I guess the
French still do. And candle cups. My moma showed me how to make these with
scraps of foil, but I never dreamed that they were made commercially. I
bought me a pack just like a real Parisian would for their candlelit dinner
parties. Sigh- so happy!
We were headed back to the apartment to rest and eat some supper when I had the sudden epiphany that the street directly adjacent to ours was du Roi de Sicile, the very address of a vintage clothing shop I had wanted to see. Andy is very understanding. (And she saw the maniacal gleam in my eye.) So we headed down to Mamz'Elle Swing at #35 in the bright pink store.
Just walking up to the window was a treat! She had a sign saying it was for women 17 to 70. Luckily, I fit in between those.
Yes, my eyes are bugged out like a pug's. She had so many cute things! But I am a very frugal dress buyer and had to say au revoir to these.
Isn't the proprietress as cute as a bug?
I was delighted just to have seen such a lovely and well-curated vintage dress shop. But then we walked on and came to something called The King of Frip. A frippery is a used clothing store. And in we went! (Look at the sweet little French couple below. I was struck by how so many of the couples either held hands, or the man held the lady's arm.)
The shop made me think of a really cramped Goodwill. I loved going through all the dresses. I even found a handful of vintage ones.
Below is one that I bought. It has an attached petticoat, or "pouf" as I call it, and is much cuter on. I also bought one for winter in a beautiful blue plaid with corduroy collar and cuffs.
The price for each was only 15 euros! I trotted up to a little man sitting at a desk in the corner, completely overwhelmed by the clothes exploding out around him. I took me several, increasingly louder, bonjours to bring him around. I think he was dozing, because when he finally looked up he was a very animated person. He took my two dresses and nodded at them appreciatively, tapping a finger to his eye to show that I had found treasures. He asked where we were from. When we told him, he said, "Beautiful, welcome, bonjour, c'est magnific!" When we left, he said goodbye and to return again, successively in English, French, and Italian. I'm not sure he even realized he was language surfing, it was just normal speech for him!
Then we got to the apartment, ready to eat. I don't remember what I actually ate for real food, but below is what I ate for dessert. A coffee eclair, a Charlotte frambois (raspberry), and a Delice.
The Charlotte was a tender cake studded with currants that was wrapped around a filling of raspberry curd that had whole currants interspersed in bursts of tartness. It was incredible. I believe it was the second best thing I ate in Paris, and it was so close to the number one spot!
Below is the Delice, and it was aptly named. It was a dark chocolate mousse with whole hazelnuts laying along the bottom (those are two sugared ones on top), then dredged in a bitter chocolate glaze. Delicious indeed!
My coffee eclair was one of the few disappointments. I've made homemade coffee eclairs and so I had visions of this showing me how a "real one" should be. I found the choux pastry to be dry and tough, something it should never be. The coffee cream filling was good. But this was a rare time when I thought that I could make better.
I'll just let you gaze at them in longing for a moment...
Andrea had remarked that she was astounded that I didn't eat all my pasta at lunch. I was disgruntled that I couldn't force her to eat more than a bite of all my desserts (how was she supposed to keep up her strength?). We concluded that she has a large "real food" stomach, but a very small dessert one. Then we surmised that I have kidneys and liver the size of peas, and a "real food" stomach about the size of a gall bladder. The whole rest of my body cavity is for my "dessert stomach".
We really were the perfect yin and yang of companions. She even noted the differences in what caught our eye. Andrea wrote:
"We are collectively taking in ALL of Paris!
Example 1)
Andy: Did you see that man?
Sam: What man? I was looking at the dog.
Andy: What dog?
Example 2)
Sam’s dinner consisted of a little meat and cheese with her plate of dessert.
Andy’s dinner consisted of a little dessert with her plate of meat and cheese."
So funny!
We rested until 6:30 and then we began our longest metro experience, to the Eiffel Tower. I had planned for us to see it anyway, but then we were gifted free tickets for a Seine river cruise for staying at the apartment. We are two people not apt to look a free gift in the mouth, so to speak, and it just happened to leave from a dock beneath the tower. We reached the tower and admired it for a bit.
I don't really find it a thing of beauty, but one of inspiration. Eiffel not only designed the tower, but he financed it, his factory made the beams, and his men constructed it using cranes that he invented. He was building it for the 1900 Exposition and came in under budget and on time. This was a structure that was meant to only remain standing for a short amount of time, then be disassembled. Instead, it has stood the test of time for over 100 years!
I have been remiss. All this time we have been trekking through London and Paris, we have had companions and I didn't even tell you. One was a tiny rubber chicken that belongs to one of Andrea's older sons. The other are two cut-outs of her smaller boys. This trio made the journey with us and have had their picture taken at some of the most famous landmarks in the world ;)
We got to the dock at the exact moment the boat was pulling away. That simply gave us time to walk to a small gelato booth and peruse the flavors while waiting for its return. You can see the shadow of our heads as we pondered the all-important choice. I had a sample of the violet. I was very impressed, I make violet jam from the flowers and this ice cream tasted just like the real thing. It was just a tad too floral for me to be able to eat a whole scoop. Instead, I got the raspberry. I expected something like a sorbet from home. Oh, no. This was a gelato made from raspberry puree, and so silky and sumptuous! I did not have a single fruit or floral dessert in Paris that was made with artificial flavors. Every single one was made from what was obviously the real thing- bliss!
The tour boat was the most "touristy" thing that we did, and I was reminded why I don't do that kind of thing (unless free). There were hoards of people and more loud talking then we had been exposed to for days. And all the selfie taking! There was one woman who Andy and I noticed did nothing the entire hour but take selfies. No lie. She looked neither left nor right, but smiled, fluffed her hair, and did lip puckers. Sheesh. Andrea and I were not much impressed with the tour because we had seen all the major sites that they showed, and from better vantage points. The only nice thing was that we managed to have the sunset tour. Below is the beautiful Pont Alexandre at dusk, with the Eiffel piercing the air behind.
The ever impressive Notre Dame.
And then it was time to head home. All week we had seen the Parisians out with their dogs. I had wondered what they did with them if they had to take the metro. Here was our answer. A young couple with their pit bull and giant Cockatiel were waiting just like us.
We got off at St Paul just as darkness fell over the streets. What a lovely end to an eventful day (six desserts today, in case you were wondering). It felt very natural to walk our daily path back to the square and up the tiny stairs to our apartment. Paris had turned out to be everything I had dreamt of. And there were still two more days to go...
