Muriel! Welcome to PARIS. And what’s the first thing we do? Food!
Enjoying around Saint-Germain-des-Pres. Also the Pompidou; Deyrolle; Museum of the Army and Napoleon’s Tomb; tours with Alain, Street Art, The Sewer Tour(!); Musees Carnavalet, Picasso; and Rodin; Jardin du Luxembourg
…these lovely ladies.
There was a show going on called ‘Les 3 Jean’ featuring memorabilia from the work of Jeans Delannoy, Marais, and Gabin all very well know in French cinema – two actors and a director.
The woman on your left is the niece of Jean Delannoy and a celebrity herself to these two volunteers. The three of them most charmingly urged me to come to the town of Bueil on Saturday to see the full collection of Jean Delannoy’s career. I would have gone too except that I’ve got the Street Art tour on Saturday.
From the NY Times: “Center Pompidou’s bold “exoskeletal” architecture was thought to clash violently with the old houses surrounding it upon its opening in 1977.
“The public considered the cultural center’s aggressive industrialist style an attack on Paris’s historic fabric; one Parisienne, upon discovering that Richard Rogers was one of its architects (along with Renzo Piano), hit him on the head with her umbrella.”
There had been a recent fire and many of these objects were donated back to the shop.
I thought maybe I was going to write about this place because it’s so interesting. It’s also long. You can google deyrolle paris nytimes for an up-to-date article.
Also, to set the stage, this from wiki: “Deyrolle is a reference in the field of taxidermy. We can find birds, beasts and mammals from all over the world. At Deyrolle, with only a few exceptions, no animal was killed to be mounted: the non-domestic species come from zoos, parks, where they died of old age or illness. They are traceable, and protected species are held and delivered in accordance with the Washington Convention (CITES).”
The Prime Minister of France lives here. I know that because one of the four heavily armed guards told me. I had to go back a second time to confirm.
Imagine my surprise when those four guys and their sub-machine guns let me take this picture after a car drove in and the Americans won’t even let you into their church.
I was on a walk to Invalides.
from Wiki: “Les Invalides, officially known as L’Hôtel national des Invalides, or also as L’Hôtel des Invalides, is a complex of buildings containing museums and monuments, all relating to the military history of France, as well as a hospital and a retirement home for war veterans, the building’s original purpose.
“The buildings house the Musée de l’Armée, the military museum of the Army of France, the Musée des Plans-Reliefs, and the Musée d’Histoire Contemporaine, as well as the burial site for some of France’s war heroes, most notably Napoleon Bonaparte.”
We stopped often to look at food. Food food food, it’s Muriel’s thing. Fresh fruits and vegetables, windows packed with pastry delights, bread, cheese, various meats, chocolate of course, and more.
I don’t take pictures of food much but starting tomorrow I’ll give it a go because that’s all I hear from back home ‘Eiffel Tower blah blah blah where are pictures of the food!
Really, it’s the sewer in the ‘brown slurry of poop’ kind of way.
Every once in a great while after heavy rains the sewers can flood up to the level of the walkways and then oooow-eeeee, you do Not want to be there.
If you happen to be in the Eiffel Tower area with a spare hour, here’s something to look at!
This place is called The American Church in Paris. I happened to walk by so I thought to go in. I ended up feeling a little embarrassed for my country. Here’s my dialog with the American at the desk:
ME: Bonjour! Good morning! may I ask, what denomination is this church?
she: We are interdenominational. Everyone is welcome!
ME: Cool, I’d like to see the church.
she: I’m sorry you can’t see the church.
ME: But every church in Paris is open.
She: We’re Americans here.
ME: That’s doesn’t sound very welcoming.
The public can visit the church a total of 21 hours in the entire month of September.
Grand Palais des Champs-Élysées.
wiki says: “The structure was built in the style of Beaux-Arts architecture as taught by the École des Beaux-Arts of Paris.
“The building reflects the movement’s taste for ornate decoration through its stone facades, the formality of its floor planning and the use of techniques that were innovative at the time, such as its glass vault, its structure made of iron and light steel framing, and its use of reinforced concrete.”
Next stop, Musee Carnavalet. It’s very big, it tells the story of Paris in art and artifacts, but I didn’t care. I came here because they have a recreation of Marcel Proust’s bedroom.
He sat in a room like this, or so they say, writing the seven volumes of In Search of Lost Time (I do prefer the old title of Remembrance of Things Past) that I have been reading off and on for two years. Maybe I’ll finish in the third year.
Then we were off to the Musee Picasso.
from Lonely Planet: “One of Paris’ most beloved art collections reopened its doors after a massive renovation and much controversy in late 2014. Housed in the stunning, mid-17th-century Hôtel Salé, the Musée Picasso woos art lovers with 5000 drawings, engravings, paintings, ceramic works and sculptures by the grand maître Pablo Picasso (1881–1973).
“The extraordinary collection was donated to the French government by the artist’s heirs in lieu of paying inheritance tax.”
I liked it A Lot. The rooms were organized in a way by topic and this room was about his first wife Olga. You can see what he thought of her when then met and at the end of their relationship.
Actually that’s not the exact painting of the end that was in the room. I was sure I’d get a better picture from the internet but my googling skills have failed me and I can’t find it!
Following our visits to Musee Carnavalet and Musee Picasso we had a little tea break before heading home. That’s my one-quarter liter of house red wine in the little green pitcher that I so enjoy of an afternoon.
The place was just a drop-by neighborhood bistro but oh yes that apple tart was splendid. The sugar was caramelized right up to the exact point where one more second and it would have been burned. But it wasn’t burned, it was perfect.
The waiter/manager/owner was so funny as he described what was available. This was the most delicious he said. He put on his best John Wayne and called this Ammmurican Aaaple Piiii. Not what we were expecting, which is just as well!
Muriel did her knee in on Wednesday with so much walking and has been tending to it well. On Thursday, we went out for a while and today, Friday, she’s thinking to just give it a good rest.
Doesn’t she look happy?! Everyone who has stayed in the house for their own quiet day has been happy.
This is an example of a café/bistro/brasserie outdoor setup. These cafés crowd the main streets here in Saint-Germain-des-Pres. They all try to make their napkin and fork and knife design a little unique. They all have a glass for water and a glass for wine, they all have the salt and pepper and many have a pot of mustard in the holder with the salt and pepper, and they all have an ash tray.
I don’t sit out here due to the pleasure Parisians and tourists alike take in sitting around at these tables in great groups chatting away and chain smoking.
Inside all the eating places there is no smoking, no smoking in the Metro, etc. and compared to Vienna for example when you walk down the street enveloped in a cloud of smoke, here you actually can avoid getting a nose and throat attack as long as you don’t sit out here.
I was strolling up to Jardin du Luxembourg, maybe half a mile up the road from the flat.
Lonely Planet: “This inner-city oasis of formal terraces, chestnut groves and lush lawns has a special place in Parisians’ hearts. Napoléon dedicated the 23 gracefully laid-out hectares of the Luxembourg Gardens to the children of Paris, and many residents spent their childhood prodding 1920s wooden sailboats with long sticks on the octagonal Grand Bassin pond, watching puppets perform Punch & Judy–type shows at the Théâtre du Luxembourg , and riding the carrousel or ponies.”
“The gardens are a backdrop to the Palais du Luxembourg, built in the 1620s for Marie de Médici, Henri IV’s consort, to assuage her longing for the Pitti Palace in Florence, where she had spent her childhood.”
It was totally wonderful, kind of a mini-version of the Jardin des Tuileries with some of everything, but more intimate.
There in the distance, that’s the second finger of Paris… according to the Eiffel Tower guide.
This is Muriel’s last day. She had expressed some interest in a Street Art tour so I saved the Saturday one (having previously gone to the Sunday one) and she was going to decide closer to the time.
She decided she’d rather taxi over to the Musee d’Orsay saving her injured knee and seeing well-regarded masterpieces than tromp around Belleville looking at Street “Art”.
The tour started at 11 and I thought I’d better eat something. Oh yeah, it was so good. The cheese was tangy like parmesan but it melted better, and the mushrooms were wild and fresh and so flavorful. He folded that whole thing up into a walk-away cone shape and I was one happy camper.
Here’s the tour looking at a Shepard Fairey piece across the street. It was so crowded I stopped counting at 30 participants. It was a ridiculously crowded tour and I’m not happy with the tour company for letting it happen.
By the end of the tour I stopped counting at 40. Because the group was so large I think people we passed felt no compunction about just joining in.
The guide was a tall young man so that helped because he could project his words over the heads of the surrounding sea of heads but only when we were stopped and all gathered around. Otherwise there was no way to hear what he was saying.
I will complain only one more time, I promise.