Monday, June 16, 2008

parting meals and glances



sunday was my last day in paris, and i was all by myself. the squirrel left for the airport around 2, and for a while i stayed in the room and worked on this blog. i had done a lot of my packing saturday night, so i didn't have to spend too much time on that. i had a sorta vague plan to go out around 4 or 5 -- i remembered that we hadn't gone to cafe de flore (the other famous latin quarter cafe besides les deux magots, and conveniently right next door to it), so i thought i'd go there and then see what developed.

before i left the room, the squirrel phoned from the airport and said she'd read about this restaurant called kong (of all things) at 1 avenue de pont neuf, which overlooked the pont neuf and was designed by philippe starck. she said it was supposed to have an amazing view over the bridge. i told her i was planning to go to cafe de flore but said i might check it out (the address was easy enough to remember). she said she had a good time and thanks for coming with her to paris. i said me too and felt a little verklempt, surprisingly, so i got off the phone and finished getting ready.

the clouds were rolling in again as i put on my ipod and walked to cafe de flore. i had my umbrella, of course. on the way i passed this saxophone player serenading people at one of the many corner cafes along the boulevard saint-germain -- the usual cheesy standards. despite encroaching clouds, it was a nice evening for a stroll.

got to the cafe and was seated on the glassed-in terrace by a window. decided wtf and ordered foie gras with my wine. the waiter put a big round paper placemat on the table with a drawing of the cafe packed with people of all stripes, and people in the street walking by. the drawing was much like the scene that really was before me -- outside sat lots of people having a drink, a smoke, and a cellphone chat or a talk with their lover or mates. inside were also many people: an older couple sitting next to me had coffee before meeting up with some friends and taking off for wherever. i was facing two teenage girls at a table who had loads of pop/gossip mags. one was playing music on her ipod, and they were commenting animatedly on the different stories. behind me and across the aisle was a table loaded with incredibly beautiful 20-30somethings, including a pretty hot ginger man with a little soul patch. i sat there surrounded by excited, happy french conversation, and it felt normal to not be able to understand a thing.

directly behind me, a guy was speaking english, talking about contemporary movies or something. then the saxophone player from down the street showed up outside, playing his cheesy standards for a different cafe crowd. i just ate my foie gras and drank my wine, and wrote in my journal and smiled to myself at being alone in a crowd. i thought, i've been here 15 days and i've eaten foie gras all but two of them, i think. the version i had at cafe de flore was creamy and pinkish, but nice and duck-ish. (sometimes when it's creamy, it doesn't have as much character as when it's more country-style with the dark patches and the lovely, lovely fat.) and i wished i was facing the table of beautiful people, b/c the few glances i got of them were so fetching.

a dark cloud passed overhead. but i felt so good i had another glass of wine and watched as a drizzle started outside and people put up their umbrellas as they rushed past. i felt like the night was just beginning, and i decided i would head over to kong after all. i liked being in the cafe, alone and anonymous. i was trying to blend in with my black turtleneck and slacks and boots and leather jacket (and scarf!), but i'm sure i looked like an american (never mind the speaking giving me away). i didn't really care. i could smell cigar smoke and the sulfur of a struck match, and the rain-charged air.

so i paid my tab and thanked the waiter -- "merci, au revoir!" put my headphones back on and trundled back down blvd. st.-g. toward the bridge. this time i put on vol. 3 of my "best of the '00s" mixes and tuned out the city sounds.

it didn't take that long to get to the pont neuf, but i lingered on the street before getting to the bridge to take one more graffiti shot:



then i lingered on the bridge to watch the clouds rolling by (the photo at the top of this entry is looking across the bridge, and you can see where kong is, in that domed building waaaaay back there, to the right, next to the lamppost.

it was raining when i got to the place of kong. i felt nervous to go in by myself but figured what the hell. in the lobby of the building i read the directory and found out i had to go to the 5th floor. walking out of the elevator, i met the hostess and told her i just wanted le cocktail. she smiled and motioned to my right. the bar was deserted, nearly as empty as this photo i found on the internet:



i sat down in about the middle of this crazy flowery bar and set my stuff on the chair next to me. there was nobody else at the bar. to my right, the room opened up with tables, and there was one, maybe two, small groups sitting there. an adorable young bartender returned from serving the tables and asked me what i wanted. after two weeks of drinking wine wine wine, i decided i wanted a martini. avec tanqueray. so he made it for me -- it was strong and very good. with three perfect tiny olives on a toothpick.

the place was kind of weird -- sort of japanese, with chrome chairs and white/blonde wood, and on the shelves behind the bar was all this kitschy japanese stuff like video boxes and toys and suchlike. presently the bartender struck up a conversation, and i told him it was my last night in paris, and someone had told me to check this place out. his name was alex. after a while he asked me, "do you ... LIKE ... paris?" i was like, "well, yeah! i mean, the weather could be better, but it's pretty gorgeous." then i said, "do you?" and he downcast his eyes and gave me that gallic lip curl and shook his head and said, "NO! i am from the south of france! it is MUCH more beautiful there." and i was thinking, right. of course. so it turned out his life wasn't all that great. it's not like he was exactly complaining; we were just talking to each other like people, and i sensed he wasn't all that happy. or maybe he was just having a bad night. anyway, we also talked about music and other fluffy stuff, so it wasn't like a total bartender bummer. i actually quite liked him.

the music that was playing was pretty nuts, including some french dude doing a campy cover of britney spears's "baby one more time." nuts! then this chanteuse came on, singing "cry me a river" and other standards. not as good as hearing fiona apple sing that on jon brion's last night at the old largo, but still nice. i liked her voice. after a couple tracks, i asked the guy who was messing with the laptop -- who wore a spiffy suit that didn't quite disguise the seemingly very elaborate tattoo he had on his neck -- who was singing. he wrote it down on a business card: salome de bahia. a brazilian singer, i later learned. he also wrote "outro lugar," which is a song title from her album brasil. and i realize now i'm not sure if that was who was singing the standards too. anyway, it was a good soundtrack for the situation, whoever the singer was.

so a few more people showed up in the bar, mainly on their way to the restaurant. alex said, "did you know this place was in sex and the city?" and -- thunderstruck by the synchronicity -- i went, "no waaaay!" the series, not the movie, but still. so he told me i really should go upstairs and see the restaurant, b/c it's quite amazing. i asked if he thought i'd be able to get a table. he said ask the hostess. so i did, and she said sure, just tell her when i'm ready. i went back to the bar and finished my drink, then said good night to alex.

the hostess took my coat and umbrella, and after a minute i was escorted up the elevator to the restaurant itself. then it was another short stroll up some spiral stairs, and WHAM! a glass ceiling, a vast oval space that looked like this (except with a greyer sky and full of people):



i was seated at a table near the front, on the left side by the window. excellent view. looked over the menu and then sat for a while, staring up at the dark cloudy sky. all around me were mostly couples, chatting and smiling and holding hands and doing couple-y things. suddenly the sky was alive with tiny, darting arrows -- swallows! wow, it was so cool. then the waiter came, and i ordered softshell crab with a spicy sauce, and chilean sea bass with black rice. he insisted i drink white wine, so i had a glass of chablis.

omg, it was delicious. the crab with the spicy sauce ... heavenly. crispy and fiery and crunchy and just a little bit chewy. then the sea bass, white and meaty, with some kind of foamy fennelly stuff in a little terrine on the side to dip into. and the black rice was really intense -- chewy, earthy, and dark as the swallows flitting through the air. noir!

i had no room for dessert or cheese. i really wanted to try something else, but i didn't want to waste it. i just savored my last sips of wine and drank my evian and grinned to myself. i think i texted deb then and said thanks for the tip. i felt so happy and satiated. i knew i had to go back and thank alex too.

so i paid the bill and went down to the 5th floor to collect my coat and umbrella. alex was over at the tables, so i waited for him and then told him thanks for insisting i go upstairs. i had told him earlier that i was a writer. and he said, "you must be a special writer -- usually when people don't have reservations, they make them eat in the bar." i was very surprised, b/c i hadn't told the hostess anything at all. i dunno if he was trying to be flattering or what. (i mean, also, it was sunday night.) i laughed and said, "maybe i just LOOK important."

back on the street, i felt pretty good, but not all that drunk. it wasn't raining anymore, and i lingered on the pont neuf to see the eiffel tower do its flashy thing one more time. i headed back in the direction i had come. i had my ipod on and was singing out loud. then i came across some cops up ahead, who had the alley to my right blocked off. so i turned off the music. "bon soir!" i said and smiled as i passed, and they greeted me and kept on doing whatever they were doing.

somewhere around someplace, i veered slightly off course. i realized it right away -- and, luckily, notre dame is a pretty big landmark. so i was like, i gotta head toward the cathedral. so i did, and came out on the big plaza in front of it. the moon was shining murkily behind the clouds, and i ambled down the wide walkway, totally elated, like all of paris was at my feet. i passed by two guys wearing 17th-century dress -- i mean, wigs and long brocaded coats and buckled shoes and the whole shebang -- and couldn't help turning to stare as they walked by. what was that about?

when i crossed the bridge (i think the notre dame bridge), i turned to look for the moon again, but it was behind a tree. i stood to look at the seine, and fumbled in my pocket for my phone, to call 00soul. suddenly a french guy materialized at my elbow and said something to the effect of what are you doing? being as i was totally wrapped up in my own thing, i handed him the best line ever: "i'm looking for the moon." he hopped up and sat on the stone railing. "i will find it for you," said french guy. oh, brother!! anyway, i ended up having a chat with this dude in his izod zip-up sweater (fashion disaster, but he was cute), whose name was richard (ree-chard). he said he worked in london and was back in paris visiting family. he definitely was coming on strong, but what he didn't know was that rejection is my sport in any language and any town. so i finally put him off (although at one point i was ever so slightly worried he was gonna follow me -- but not too much, b/c i knew the desk guy at the hotel would help me if that happened -- but richard trundled off to the metro like a good lad when all was said and done.) this encounter actually didn't last that long, but it felt like a while, b/c i think i'd had quite enough to drink.

i watched him descend into the metro, then crossed the street and stood for a few moments by the fountain of saint michel to make sure he wouldn't come back up. and i slipped away down le rue de saint-andre des-arts to spend my last few hours in paris alone in a hotel room.

Sunday, June 15, 2008

at the flea market and the movies



saturday was deb's last full day in paris. she leaves for the airport this afternoon around 2.

we had breakfast -- cafe au lait and pain chocolat, mmm -- at this little bakery down the street from the hotel, and then jumped on le metro to go check out this flea market in the 14th mentioned in suzy gershman's born to shop paris (a very entertaining guide for anyone who wants to shop in paris, and it has useful info about tipping, public transportation, and other tidbits). it's not the really big, famous one (called le marche aux puces de saint-ouen) but a smaller one, called puces des vanves, that was closer to us and more dealable (and which she says is the no. 1 flea market in paris ... and who am i to argue?). we found it without too much trouble, and i got a present for one of my friends. the market was spread out along three different connected blocks, arranged sort of in a T formation.

we wandered around, taking in a totally random variety of furniture, clothing, shoes, photographs, paintings, war medals, jewelry, accessories, fixtures, cutlery, dishes, videos, books, postcards, cameras, and assorted bric-a-brac. this was more like a real flea market than the street market we went to on thursday, which was of course much smaller, but also didn't have the sheer crazy array of stuff this bigger one boasted. i admired a pair of black velvet gloves adorned with gorgeous gold embroidery (and a bag to match), but decided i didn't really need to go there. most of the vendors had booths or tables, but there were some people with just a blanket spread out on the sidewalk. those were epic in their randomness -- everything from dusty old electronics to tubes of mayonnaise (!).

then we walked across the 14th to another shopping street with designer outlets and stock shops. i left the squirrel at a cafe and window-shopped a little, but nothing really grabbed me. also, i was kind of shopped-out. had a croque monsieur and a glass of wine at the cafe, and then we headed back to this shop in the 3rd, called sobral -- which sells colorful resin jewelry that looks like exotic candy -- so that deb could buy the bracelet she coveted. (it looks sort of like this.) then we got ice cream (i had blood orange that was sweet and tangy; she had a double scoop of, uh, chocolate and something else). we walked around and looked at some of the mansions along the seine. where even the drainpipes are impossibly ornate:



later i took a picture of the back of notre dame (see above). but i must really be burned out on being a tourist, b/c i didn't take too many photos today, either. too bad. i wish i had some shots of the flea market. oh, well.

we went back to the room and feasted on bread, foie gras, and wine. then i made good on my promise to go see sex and the city with her at the local cinema. she said she wanted to see it with a french audience -- i guess to see how they'd react. it was in english with french subtitles, so i said ok. i never watched the show, but i know enough about it to follow the story (and they also had an intro that brought you up to speed). i really like sarah jessica parker -- have since her days in square pegs (recently released on DVD, and i recommend watching it if you never have). i kind of wish she would've done something deeper with her career than this frothy fluff, but a gig's a gig, i guess.

the theater was just around the corner from our hotel; 9.50 euros for a ticket. we got into the queue, and they opened the door about five minutes before the movie's posted starting time. we went down and down and down the steps -- underground cinema! i had read that the french don't eat during movies, but there were snacks available in the lobby, and some people were indulging. the previews and run-up advertising and other blather was as long (if not longer) than at an american film.

anyway, the movie was entertaining, if not especially thought-provoking, with a lot of fun (and some truly hideous) fashion. it was long, howev -- more than two hours! that just seemed excessive.

back at the hotel, we had more wine, and the squirrel finished packing. at 2 am we hunched over my laptop to watch the new who ep, "midnight," which was nice and creepy. then we went to bed.

Friday, June 13, 2008

a cathedral of green



i did not take one picture today. fail! i really should have taken some shots while in the jardin de luxembourg, but ... well, i was too busy enjoying it, i guess.

deb went to the asian museum, so i was on my own for the afternoon. my day began weirdly: i walked out of the hotel to find it surrounded by police tape. a cop directed me to go left instead of my usual right (which goes toward place st. michel), so i had to take a detour while heading to rue de rivoli to begin today's shopping adventure.

there was a lot of commotion on the main drag and the bridge. cops everywhere, in cars and vans on the street and also directing the traffic. after i crossed the st. michel bridge, i saw, several blocks to my right, some kind of gathering and people holding orange flags. i thought it might be a demonstration of some sort and considered checking it out. decided, given my tendency to get swept up in chaos even when i'm just standing around, not to. shopped instead.

i was hungry after all that retail madness, so i got a chorizo & cheese crepe from a corner stand. it was draped with thin slices of the spanish-style chorizo (hard like pepperoni, though bigger; not mushy like the mexican chorizo i also love) and magically delicious. clutching it in my hands, i headed off down the street to the jardin de luxembourg. the above photo is from that vast and lovely park; i found it on this website about paris tourism.

had to make a quick stop at a smaller park along the way to eat the crepe, however. it was too hard to walk and munch at the same time. while there i watched an old man feeding the pigeons. he held bits of stale bread or crackers or whatever he was feeding them in his hands, and they landed on him and ate from his fingers. pigeons are totally gross and disgusting, but it was sort of neat to watch. i felt kind of sad, though. it was like a scene from a movie where a lonely geezer has no friends but the birds in the park.

presently i made my way to the J de L, and i actually managed not to get lost. as soon as i walked in, i was enchanted. there is, of course, the famous fountain in the middle (not to mention the palace), ringed with chairs for people to hang out in and quite chill in its own way. but i was much more taken with the pathways around the perimeter, under the trees. the leaves were the most marvelous spring green, nearly translucent when i looked up, like stained glass against the dark brown framework of the branches. it was cool and peaceful on these pathways, with not many people around.

i put snow patrol's eyes open on the ipod and started my rather manic stroll, thinking about 00soul while listening to this album that seems to be about the same breakup with the same girl who provides the emotional drama on the previous album, final straw. anyway, i did walk down by the water, but the sun was too bright. retreated to the trees on the other side, where i kept on ambling around winding paths dotted with statuary. i saw kids riding ponies, running and playing ball, and raging on the playground. but mainly i kept away from the humans and enjoyed the relative calm of this lovely place.

then i went back to the hotel and waited for the squirrel to return, while catching up on this blog. we had some drama over where to eat dinner, but whatev. ended up back at cafe clement, cuz she wanted oysters. the place seemed sort of devoid of servers ... we decided that might be b/c france was playing holland in the euro cup. (they were blown out, 4-1, c'est dommage!)

it rained a little bit while we sat on the glassed-in patio, an excellent vantage point for watching the world go by. including soccer fans with little flags of france painted on their faces, one guy dressed up like a soccer ball, and a couple of people wearing one red and one blue shoe (again with the non-matching shoes of my dream...). just across the way i watched a young couple sitting in the doorway of a closed juice bar. both had plastic cups of beer. the boy, dressed all in black and with a black cap on too, was working hard to impress the girl -- he talked and talked and TALKED, gesturing with his hands and doing his best to entertain. she nodded and smiled and laughed, but i was frankly amazed at how she couldn't get a word in edgewise for at least an hour. she did finally begin to converse, but pretty soon he was doing all the talking again. deb and i amused ourselves greatly by making up various scenarios about this encounter. they were still there when we left, and i think our meal took about two hours.

anyway ... the squirrel got her oysters, and i FINALLY got a truly medium rare steak. it was actually fairly bloody, but ohboy it was good. for dessert we had profiteroles with ice cream and drizzled with homemade chocolate sauce. OMG, nirvana.

Thursday, June 12, 2008

outside in the rain and inside notre dame



we got up late -- the maid knocked around 1015 am b/c she wanted to clean the room. eventually headed off to a nearby street market. on the way there, we walked down one of the narrow, alley-like streets stuffed with cafes and shops that surround our hotel. a bunch of people were crowded in the middle of a little intersection, cellphone cameras snapping away at something. as we approached, we looked closer and saw that the object of this impromptu paparazzi fest was ... a rat. its fat brown butt was sticking up, naked pink tail and all, as though it were trying to get through the grate but was too chubbed-out to make it. as we paused to gape in horror, it pulled itself upright and sat back on its haunches, while the cell-wielding tourists went wild. (is this the fault of disney's ratatouille? were they thinking it was remy the gourmet-chef rat or something? yikes.) later we realized that there was a bunch of rotting fruit beneath the grate, so it was probably after that stuff, rather than attempting to escape.

anyway. so, i went slightly wild at the market and bought a little serpent-shaped silver ring, four silk scarves, and a medium-sized duffel bag for the return trip (b/c when i was packing i forgot to put in the one i borrowed; upon realizing this, couldn't get it into the suitcase anyway so left it behind). we came across a guy selling tons of different foie gras and other french-country delights (like jars of cassoulet) -- all made by his mother, he said -- and deb asked her usual million questions. she bought some duck pate in a jar and canned goose pate, we got some wine, and he threw in a can of wild boar (!) pate. gift with purchase! "how come clinique doesn't do it like that?," asked the squirrel. indeed.

while we were standing there, the threatening sky opened up. it began to POUR rain. luckily we had our umbrellas, but wow. le deluge, indeed.

after the market we made our way to les deux magots -- one of the famous cafes of the latin quarter -- for lunch. we sat in the glassed-in part along the side of the place, as being outside wasn't an option due to rain. the door was open, and sparrows flew in to ... not so much beg as demand handouts, fluttering in the air above people's heads in a surprisingly aggressive way for such tiny creatures. i had coffee and a croque monsieur, and deb had a green bean salad and tea. we were seduced by the gorgeous dessert tray being waved around; i had a vanilla mousse and raspberry thing, and she had an apple tart. mmmmm.

the weather cleared up, and it became sunny, though still windy and chilly. we dropped our stuff off at the hotel and went back out. decided to swing by notre dame for a quick tool-around the inside. the stained glass is pretty incredible. the rose windows are impressive ... (this photo by the squirrel of -- i think -- the south one is the best of hers, and mine totally suck)



but i really liked the more abstract ones, like this (sorry, it's a crap photo and crooked to boot):



after notre dame, we went off to explore random retail stuff, like the monoprix, which is sort of like the french target, but smaller and with groceries. i needed stuff like body lotion and little packets of tissues, so it was good for that. did some more shopping and then went back to our hood. deb's feet/knees were bothering her due to chartres expedition, so we stayed in. we drank wine and ate lebanese sandwiches from the always-hopping shop down the block. it was a nice break and some good togetherness time, as the squirrel and i are gonna split up again tomorrow.

day of a million stairs



on wednesday, the squirrel and i split up, and i went to montmartre, in the 18th arrondissement, to see le sacre coeur and whatever else there is to see. windmills, yeah. deb went to chartres to see the cathedral there, and i just didn't want to travel 60 miles on the train to see another church. actually, i'd planned to go shopping today, but ... well, she's already seen le sacre coeur and didn't think her feet would stand the trip. mine were feeling pretty good, and it was another gorgeous day, so i decided to save shopping for later in the week when the weather is supposed to be crappier. it was a good decision but, of course, ended up being more walking than i would've liked.

the basilica is very beautiful, and i managed to get a good photo of it (above), although one has to stand below it on the steps, b/c there's not much straightaway to back onto.

anyway, i figured out the way on le metro, no prob. on the way there, an older man got on the train and played the violin for a couple of stops. this sort of thing happens a lot -- musicians getting on with their instruments, or sometimes a singer, and doing a couple of numbers between stops. so, he played the standard stuff, like "besame mucho" and other tunes i recognized but didn't know the names of. he was behind me in the wide standing space, but i could see him reflected in the glass of the doors. he was jowly and sort of saggy-faced, and he looked kind of melancholy. the music, too, had a mournful edge to it. it made me feel kind of sad to think about it, this guy begging a living with cheesy standards on le metro.

soon the ride ended, and i trotted off to my destination. but when i got to the bottom of the big, tall hill that leads to the church, the funicular (sideways trolley to the top) wasn't working! so, i trudged up about 50,000 steps -- along with all the other hapless tourists. up isn't so bad on the feet, but it's murder on the legs. on the ipod it took gnarls barkley ("run"), the hives ("tick tick boom"), the white stripes ("my doorbell"), and half of the raconteurs' "steady as she goes" (ahaha) to get me to to the top. luckily, there are breaks -- little landings, i guess you'd call them -- so i could walk around in a circle underneath a skinny tree for a sec to catch my breath and unhink my quads.

made it to the top, and there it was: the church of the sacred heart. here's a view of paris from the steps just below it. they have smog here, too:



le sacre coeur is quite curlicued on the outside, and that's nothing compared to how ornate it is inside! you have to be silent, and no pictures allowed inside -- it's a place of worship at all times, and one must be respectful. i was just grateful for the silence itself.

not too many people were in there -- just a small horde. a few were sitting in the pews. i just trundled around the perimeter, gawking at the ornate ... everything. carvings that filled every niche, and amazing stained glass. i haven't been inside notre dame yet ... i suppose it's even more incredible, so maybe i should make the effort.

anyway. i hadn't gotten too far along when i witnessed one of those things that makes me feel embarrassed to be an american, and maybe even embarrassed to be human (and which i really have a knack for being around when they happen). this seriously abrasive fat guy took a picture of a rack of burning votives (which people light and say a prayer for someone), and this english lady said, "you're not supposed to do that." the guy obviously didn't care, or he wouldn't have done it in the first place. but naturally, her admonishment didn't shame him. instead, he copped an attitude, like, "why not?" she told him it was disrespectful. so he said, "yeah? well, you're shit!" i kept walking, but the world did one of those things where the air seemed to expand and contract at once. i was both cringing inside and restraining myself from getting into it with this pig. (i mean, if you don't want to be respectful, don't come in, ok? stand outside and drool or eat your ice cream or whatev. fuckhead.) but this was no time for pointless heroics. i really wished i had a sonic screwdriver so i could discreetly point it in the guy's direction and make his camera blow up. then i wanted to go up to the lady and apologize on behalf of all u.s. citizens. but i didn't want to break the silence rule.

so, i stumbled on after a minute. soon i overtook this dumbass and his male companion, who was older and possibly his dad? anyway, rude dude was BRAGGING to his friend: "so she said it was disrespectful, and i said, 'yeah? you're shit!' and she didn't know what to think of that!" triumph in his voice. augh. i felt like i was being tested by god. i sooooo wanted to tell the guy off. but, again. i didn't want to break the rule of silence. not to mention the rule of not assaulting people in le sacre coeur.

instead, i turned my attention to the lovely stained glass and statuary. the inside of the main dome is an amazing painting. for once i didn't go into the little shop, but of course there was one. i saw rude dude again outside of it, though, and i threw the worst curse i could think of at him. then i saw the corner dedicated to st. michel slaying the dragon. i fingered the dragon choker at my throat and felt a little bit defensive.

left the church and headed toward place du tertre, the touristy nearby square stuffed with cafes and ice cream joints and tchotchke shops and artists drawing people's pictures. tried to follow the walking tour in the paris day-by-day book. i found au lapin agile, the cabaret that used to be called cabaret des assassins and was a hangout of picasso's.



after that i got hopelessly lost. to get un-lost, i had to retrace my steps. including going down all the steps i came up:



once back down the steps, i did see a few more things, including a windmill. but my feet were killing me, so i didn't make it to the moulin rouge (wasn't too jazzed about seeing it anyway ... sorry) or even some other things i actually wanted to see. oh, well. i needed enough feets power to get me back, and that's just the way it was. i did buy a cool silver ring in a little shop along the rue des abbesses ... it's a band with an x-type cross pattern, and the middle part spins. like a worry bead on your finger -- nifty.

so i limped back to the metro station, outside of which was a guy with a goldfish bowl balanced on his head, entertaining a small crowd. coming back on le metro, some transit cops got on and checked everybody's tickets.

got back to my hood and had a glass of wine at the same cafe as yesterday, and wrote in my journal. the cafe was right across from the fountain of st. michel and the dragon. i watched a couple of young guys toss a plastic toy of some sort into the fountain for their dogs -- a lab and some sorta husky mix -- to retrieve. the fountain has three tiers above the main pool, and the dogs were really into splashing around in the water, in that joyous doggie way that's so much fun to watch. probably that's not an approved use of the fountain, but it was entertaining. especially when one guy threw the toy into the highest tier, which the dogs couldn't get to, and he had to go in himself to get it out. silly hippie.

deb and i had dinner at a place near notre dame that had pretty great foie gras but was otherwise sort of eh. they overcooked my lamb to damn near leather -- even though i SAID medium-rare. it's like they look at americans and think "well done," no matter what you say. then we walked over to notre dame. it looked lovely in the blue evening light. don't you agree? (don't click on this photo to make it bigger, howev; it's a little grainy or out of focus and looks much better just like this.)



wow, paris. it's kind of amazing.

Tuesday, June 10, 2008

everybody knows that everybody dies



made the move to hotel eugenie in the latin quarter today. it is on a little street called rue st. andre des arts -- just a short walk to notre dame, and the nearest corner is this street called git le couer, which anthony informed me was the site of the former beat hotel. there are two or three hotels on it now, and a funky little record store that i passed the other day on the way to doing something else. i might get back there, i hope.

anyway, the hotel room is small but neat, and there's a bathtub, quelle surprise. we're on the second floor, which is really the third floor, with a view of the sky and the street below.

when we arrived our room was almost ready. the desk clerk arranged our airport return ride via a supershuttle sort of thing that costs a lot less than the cab ride did. plus, it's dealt with already -- no fretting at the last minute. i'm sure they're getting a cut of the deal, but it's good for everyone.

so we got organized and went off to the famous cemetery pere-lachaise. we're both still having feet issues, so we decided not to try to see every famous dead person in the place. we did amble around quite a bit -- the place seems to go on forever, and it is just packed with tombs and crypts and suchlike. people stacked on top of each other, literally. definitely not the way i want to spend eternity.

a lot of the tombs have ceramic flowers on them, some have little built-in planters with roses or geraniums, and others had fresh flowers on top. after a while, it feels a little bit heartbreaking. i mean, it's a mere fraction of all the people who have ever died in the history of humanity. not even a drop in the bucket. and yet there are so many graves. some of them are very basic, just big slabs of stone with names and relationships. sometimes they have framed photos on top, which was a little bit eerie. but some of these tombs are very elaborate and gothic. apparently it was a thing to try to outdo your peers, even in death. every once in a while, the tall, narrow crypt would have an iron gate slightly ajar, like someone inside decided to go for a walk. i did see a grave marked lupo, which is the name of one of mick farren's vampires. i guess a travelin' bloodsucker needs a few cribs scattered around.

anyway. we saw the grave of french writer colette. and heloise & abelard, the famous doomed lovers. theirs was a very elaborate monument, with two stone figures lying next to each other atop a slab in a tall square pavilion. but it was fenced off and covered in scaffolding, so you couldn't get too close. a few dessicated roses were scattered on the ground inside the fence, as though people had tried to toss them onto the tomb but fallen short. poetic, somehow.

then of course we went off to find the thing that most people in the cemetery had come to see. obligatory crappy shot of jim morrison's grave:



in fact, pere-lachaise was essentially deserted until we came to the final resting place of the doors' lead singer/poet. it was hard to get a good picture b/c (a) there were so many people crowded around it, and (b) it is actually sorta wedged behind a crypt -- not an optimal picture-taking sitch. among the many people there paying quiet homage (no pouring out of alcohol or wild hippie dancing or anything) were two young teen girls sharing an ipod (one headphone b/w each) that you just know was playing the doors. they wore cute contemporary outfits and leaned together against a nearby stone, their faces concentrating, tilting their weight on the outsides of their ballet-flat-clad feet.

after jim we walked another little ways, then sat on a bench and had a quick picnic of cheese and bread. the day was lovely -- it's now so warm that the squirrel is complaining it's too hot. but i'm much happier. the cemetery has lots of trees and is actually pretty peaceful. this was a beautiful vista:



dunno who you have to be to get the eternal park-front view. but it's nice:



we did some more walking, even though we had to go veeerrrry slloooooowwwwwly b/c of our achin' feet. we saw the grave of raft of the medusa painter gericault -- a blackish-green stone with a bas-relief of the famous work (although he's not the only one to make a version of that historical event). a sad tombstone of a little boy and his dog. various other tragedies. and then we finally found oscar wilde's grave. it stands out b/c it looks a lot different than almost anything else in the place (at least, anything else that i saw). for one thing, it's covered in lipstick kisses:



anthony told me about the tradition of kissing the grave with bright lipstick on, but i forgot mine that day. merde. oh, well.

by then we were pretty much done with dead people, so we ambled out the gates and found our way back. returning to our hood, we sat at a cafe called le fenelon for a while and drank wine. deb wrote postcards, and i wrote in my journal. the euro cup is going on, so after a while someone at the bar dropped a big long cable tv hookup down from an upstairs room to hook up to a tv inside the bar. i just sat and watched the bustling street and the world go by. after the parade of the dead, it was rather a relief to be back among the living.

Monday, June 9, 2008

laundry, the eiffel tower, and
le satire incomprehensible



all right!! nice weather at last. of course we spent about 90 minutes of it washing our clothes at the laundromat down the street. but that was essential.

doing laundry was sort of like buying gas at some stations in america: instead of selecting the numbered pump on a central machine, putting in your credit or debit card, and then going to pump gas, you put your clothes into a numbered washer, go to the central machine and select the number, put in the money, and watch it go. you also buy soap that way -- select what you want, put money in the same central machine, and the soap comes out in a package of two little cube-shaped "sachets" of pressed dry powder. the directions said to use two cubes per load, but that seemed like too much to me, so we used one per each load we had. a good decision, b/c the stuff is very strong-smelling, and the odor is nose-itchingly intense for a person like me who uses unscented detergent.

anyway, as it is our last day in this neighborhood, AND such a nice sunny one, we decided to carpe diem and headed off to le tour eiffel. i actually wore my black dress and was quite comfortable (and looked very fetching i might add). we expected a mob scene, but it really wasn't bad. we waited about a half-hour in line for tickets and the elevator. the sign at the base of the tower said that the third tier (aka the top) was closed, but the woman in the ticket booth said that it might reopen, and we could buy another ticket for the top on the 2nd level. (tix can be bought to go to just the 1st level, or to the 2nd -- costs more -- or to the 3rd -- also costs more.) once on the 2nd level, we learned that the top WAS open, so we ponied up and got in line for the next elevator.

it was a bit confusing as to where to go to get that top-level ticket, so i approached this adorable french lad in a brown suit and orange eiffel tower tie (what's with the french and orange?). "we want to go to the tower," i said like an idiot. he laughed and said, "you ARE on the tower." so i had to laugh too, and then said, "er, i mean, we want to go to the TOP of the tower!" and then he pointed the way to the ticket booth. ahaha. whatevs.

while riding the elevator to the top i punched the button on my ipod and played the pixies' "alec eiffel" -- another dream realized. i felt a little bit uneasy going up; probably i should not have looked straight down, but i couldn't help it. once up there i was ok. we took some pictures from the bottom, glassed-in level, and then went up to the top, caged-in one. i think the above shot of the seine was from the caged-in level; can't remember.

so, wow. whotta view. in this shot (which is def taken through a dirty window) you can see the arc de triomphe off in the distance, and the trocadero at the nearer left:



this is looking toward ecole militaire (not far from our hotel), and the big tower is i think montparnasse:



and this is looking toward les invalides (the golden dome):



and here is the eiffel tower under a blue sky! (it would be cropped except it's from the set of photos that got deleted from the camera...)



it was getting late-ish by the time we descended the tower. the squirrel had decided some days ago that we should go to the comedie francaise to see dom quichotte. i don't know how i let myself get talked into these things -- i can barely speak french, let alone understand it in a satirical play full of singing, puppetry, visions, and historical doings. but i went anyway. she said if we didn't like it we could bail at intermission -- ahaha! no intermission. it was somewhat bamboozling to sit there for nearly two hours watching something i basically didn't comprehend at all, beyond a word or two and some general activity. i could sort of follow along at points, but other times i just made up what was happening in my head. the actor who played santo was great, though. the whole production seemed fairly insane -- even if i had understood it.

anyway, before the show we ate dinner on the patio at the nearby restaurant hotel de louvre. some lovely foie gras (probably the second best after la terrasse). and i had squid stuffed with ... stuff. not sure what, but it was fragrant and delicious. drank a lot of wine and then dashed off to the comedie next door. deb took my picture a million times at dinner, and during the last one this older woman sitting across from us looked at me and smiled, like, "yeah, i have a camera-happy sibling too." or something.

also, i did take a picture of one of these iconic metro stations that look so sci-fi, and which the doctor and romana II ran out of while sightseeing/dashing around paris in "city of death." there's a bunch of them, but they're so cool:



after the comedie debacle, we descended into the metro and returned to our hotel to drink wine and pack up everything, b/c tomorrow we move to the eugenie hotel in the latin quarter. kind of sad to be leaving valadon, but excited to be seeing a different neighborhood, and one that's supposed to be more lively and "city-like."

Sunday, June 8, 2008

picasso is eh, notre dame is closed



on the last day of the museum pass, we went to the picasso museum. first we tripped around the food market on the rue cler near our hotel -- it wasn't raining, but it was still kinda chilly and windy, so the action wasn't great. nice fruit, though.

anyway, the picasso museum. it's under construction -- like so many things in paris. the outside was all covered in scaffolding. and the little shop was reduced to a rack of postcards and a handful of books. bummer.

so we went inside and tripped around. i have to admit i wasn't especially moved. i loved seeing le chat, and his work is interesting, but ... idk. i found myself mostly clinically interested, like, fascinated by his perceptions/perspective. like, why did he see things this way? some of his portraits had the body parts so jumbled and weird they looked like strange robots or maybe portraits of humans after aliens found them all torn apart and put them back together the best they could w/o a map (i can't remember which sci-fi story that is ... anthony?). deb said that his father was an artist too, who specialized in naturalistic portraits and was a professor. so maybe cubism was a nice rebellion for pablo. i know there's a lot more to it -- thinking about how to render 3-D objects on a 2-D surface and stuff like that. i liked that he seemed to have obsessions -- musical instruments and women in the bath, for two. my favorite things in the museum were a later painting called musician and his takes (here's one) on manet's dejeuner sur l'herbe (aka picnic on the grass, referenced in an earlier post).

so, i fail at appreciating cubism. at least i looked at it all. i noticed that sometimes picasso's paintings were so way-out distorto that it was a good thing he gave them titles -- otherwise i'd have no idea what i was looking at. other things were much more naturalistic, or a mix of the styles, like a cubist-y woman with a face where everything was pretty much in the right place. anyway, it was pretty psychedelic, but not my groove, apparently. the museum also, however, didn't have some of his most famous works, so maybe that was my problem: lack of proper perspective. ahaha.

ok. my feet have developed a new twinge, a bit of a stabbing pain under the second and third right toes. so the walking was a bit encumbered, even though my blisters have become calluses, w00t! still, the weather got semi-nice -- fairly warm, in fact, though still pretty cloudy -- and we hiked off to notre dame. yet we couldn't go in b/c it was closed in preparation for some big-deal mass that was going to be televised. we sat outside for a while, and i took the above picture of the front. i will have to come back when it's sunny anyway -- supposedly the stained glass looks way better in the sunlight. like, duh.

Saturday, June 7, 2008

serious wallpaper and one big backyard



the weather's supposed to get better tomorrow, but we trundled off to versailles today anyway. feet feeling pretty good. wore my chucks in case it rained. which it eventually did.

the above photo is part of the garden at versailles; it's by the squirrel, b/c i just totally dropped the ball on taking photos, and then i effed up and forgot to edit on the camera the ones i did take -- which, in a boneheaded move, i then deleted from the camera after importing, which i never do. so, i have hardly any photos from today, and the ones i do have suck.

anyway, the gardens stretch on seemingly for miles and are labyrinthine, though not an actual labyrinth. we took the train to the town of versailles -- not a long ride through neighborhoods of apartment buildings and then more suburban-looking villes, with lots of little houses stacked nearly on top of each other. along the tracks were little vegetable gardens in some places. once you land at the station, it's about a 5-to-10-minute stroll to the palace. we had our museum passes, but it didn't seem that crowded. probably b/c it was damn cloudy.

into the palace we went, trundling around the many chambers stuffed with paintings and the usual historical bric-a-brac. i was quite taken with all the different colors and textures of wallpaper -- deep green, ruby red, shiny gold, brazen purple, etc. there were portraits of louis xiv and all his peeps, not to mention subsequent royal types, like L16, the one who was married to marie antoinette and was famously executed and all that. and L15, the one who had madame de pompadour as a mistress. the doctor who ep "the girl in the fireplace" was about her -- at the end the doctor comes to see her again after reading her impassioned letter to him, but she's just died. he runs into the king, who's majorly bummed out, and his highness points out reinette's coffin being driven away from the palace. it was raining as her coffin-carriage left the palace; that was in april, not june, but the story (the real story, not the who one ... actually, i can't remember if he said anything about it in the ep) goes that the king commented on the weather being crappy. so i'm not the only one who notices such things.

anyway. but the real action was upstairs. first you go into the war room, and then you turn around, and there's the hall of mirrors. it's a riot of glass and gilt, and how. (and full of fucking tourists, but what can you do?) another squirrel shot:



here's another one with slightly fewer humans in it:



then we wandered off to see the king's bedchambers, quite impressive with the elaborate brocade bedding and curtains on the four-poster bed, topped with ostrich-feather clusters on the top of each corner. but i think i liked best that his bedroom was right next to his office. so he could just roll out of bed and do his thing. it's good to be the king. deb said he had an elaborate bedtime ritual involving hordes of people. in fact, it seems that the king and queen were surrounded by hordes of people at pretty much all times. doesn't sound like my kinda life, but i guess you'd get used to it.

or maybe that's why he had such a big backyard. not sure he could sneak off and hide in it, but it is definitely huge. it has all sorts of fountains, also gilded and elaborate. like this one (squirrel photo again):



it costs extra to go into the garden, but it was worth it. we had a little snack at one of the outdoor cafes and then wandered around. the sky grew darker, and the squirrel was cranky. she was put out b/c i kept asking the same question about the petit trianon being closed (b/c there are grand ones too, which were open, and that kept confusing me). i dunno how she expects me to retain anything when she attempts to stuff every available iota of my memory space with factoids about kings and regimes that are no doubt Very Important, but frankly not likely to be remembered by me. whatevs -- i liked the fountains, especially this one of titan's fall back to earth:



we stuck around for the big water show at the neptune fountain at the end of the day. it wasn't that pyrotechnic, but all the different jets of water spurting out of statue heads was pretty cool. you could see the king using it to impress chicks and visiting VIPs and stuff. here's a squirrel photo before the water went off:



and after the show started:



notice how cloudy and windy it is? yeah.

after the waterworks, that was it for versailles. we exited from a nearby gate and hiked back to the train station, nearly getting lost but making it back ok.

Friday, June 6, 2008

beaucoup sculptures and one big coffin



the feet were semi-back in action on friday. right foot, all good. left foot, still has issues. i put on my burgundy chucks, and off we went to the rodin museum. which is nearby enough to walk to. there was no line when we arrived, and, anyway, we had our passes, so we bopped on in. it was supposed to rain, but it only really spit a few drops, despite forecast (french weather prediction is shit, like everywhere else). but it was at times very windy and cool. it's good it wasn't raining, since a lot of what there is to see is outside. there weren't too many people around, relatively speaking. i took the above picture of the thinker (thinking very dark and cloudy thoughts, apparently). and some photos of the lovely roses along the paths that lead to him. i tried out my "flower close-up setting" on the camera for these.





we saw the burghers of calais, which deb liked a lot. it's very famous and shows an incident from the hundred years war (which actually lasted 116 years (or possibly longer); i guess they rounded down?). and there's more about it at the link. around the bend in the path from that happy bunch are adam and eve, and the gates of hell. at that point i decided i needed music, so i put the dandy warhols' thirteen tales from urban bohemia on the ol' ipod. in part to enjoy the irony of listening to "godless" while staring at the gates of hell. it's a big, tall black sculpture shaped like (duh) a doorway. figures reach out of it and pop out toward you, and the whole thing is framed in human suffering and demon revelry. some of the figures that became sculptures unto themselves show up on top of it and around it. it was quite fascinating.

i stood there for a while, staring at it and imagining it could be a portal if you touched it. which i didn't. b/c you never know. but it was slightly disturbing to see some images of babies around the gates; i thought babies didn't go to hell. whatever. i'm no expert.

anyway, there were just tons of sculptures. i quite liked this one of victor hugo, situated in a quiet grove of trees.



the garden and fountain of the museum would have been very peaceful, except that there were workmen breaking down some kind of major party/event set-up from the night before, so the whole time we were there we were treated to the sound of forklifts rumbling and a stage being taken apart, and banging and pounding of various sorts. that kind of sucked, but whatever.

inside the museum was the famous the kiss, and another amusing romantic one called eternal idol, with a man kneeling and kissing a woman's naked chest. i wasn't sure if it was personal (like, she's his eternal idol) or universal (like, about woman in general). either way, it was kind of hot.

but after about 15 million rooms of art, i got bored and annoyed. there were tons more people inside the building (i guess b/c it was cloudy and slightly rainy? not sure, but i much preferred the noisy bleak gardens to the human-infested building). the ipod is an effective device to help dampen the audio chaos -- i just put it on really low, low enough to hear the music like background, something orderly to override the constant multilingual babble of people. being a tourist is hard when you're a misanthrope. but somehow i manage.

so, of course we went to the little shop, and then left the rodin museum and went to a little cafe for a quick espresso before heading off to les invalides to see napoleon's tomb. dude has a big-ass tomb. this is not surprising.



this picture is not mine; it's by eric pouhier. i found it on the internet. but i did take this one of les invalides from the garden of the rodin museum:



the golden dome of les invalides harbors some serious memorials -- including one for napoleon's brother. downstairs in the circular, uh, vault, is a series of bas reliefs enumerating the emperor's various achievements and conquerings (and battles in general -- he didn't win 'em all). the tomb is massive and made of many layers -- including wood, tin, lead, and ebony -- and the final layer is porphyry ... but it's not actually porphyry. apparently nappy's peeps wanted it b/c it was used for the roman emperors, and so it would be an appropriately regal entombment for the emperor. but the romans got theirs from egypt -- and apparently there wasn't a suitably sized chunk of the stuff available from egypt. so they turned to russia for it, but i guess there was some bad blood b/w the two, b/c the russians were like, "oh, you want porphyry? yeah, we got that." but what they sold the french wasn't really porphyry. it just looked like it. eh, whatev. it's not like napoleon knew what was going on anyway.

after we went back upstairs, we were looking at one of the side tombs, and this young muslim woman totally gave me the hairy eyeball. i mean, like, she GLARED at me. i wasn't doing anything but standing there, talking to deb. and quietly. the woman probably heard me talking, so she probably tumbled that i am american. idk, but it was weird. she was all covered up and with the full-on muslim-lady raincoat (ankle-length) and stuff (as opposed to some muslim women who wear the scarf but otherwise have on western dress ... and of course some are french, and some are tourists, and you can't really tell which is which unless you hear them talking). deb said she was just jealous b/c my hair wasn't covered, etc., but i dunno about that. maybe it was cuz i was wearing black, had black hair, and was speaking american -- a devil woman from the devil country. oh, well. whatevs. i'm ok you're ok, lady. take a chill pill!

now we're back in the room. we're going to finish off the foie gras we got yesterday, have some wine here, and then maybe go off to one of the neighborhood joints for actual dinner. we are debating going to versailles tomorrow, depending on the weather. this involves getting up early, which i'm sort of opposed to, but the squirrel insists.

a quiet day at valadon



we had talked about going to versailles on thursday, but i just couldn't do any more. i had to give my feet a rest. we've got more than a week left here -- must recover. so i spent a quiet afternoon catching up on this blog. the picture above is of the obelisk at the place de la concorde, taken wednesday. it marks the center of paris, very little of which i saw today.

the squirrel went to notre dame and ile de la cite, and she brought back many riches. including my very own notre dame votive candle. and some postcards. une baguette, some white wine, some lovely little cookie things called macarons, and ... more foie gras! we ate this feast on the terrace of our room while some new (american, maybe also canadian) hotel guests boisterously chatted and laughed on the terrace down below. they were older, probably in their late 50s-early 60s. they seemed to be having fun. at one point mdme orsenne came around, and othello bounded up the steps to try to wheedle some foie gras out of us. no dice.

we wanted to go to the eiffel tower and see paris at night (and test my feet). so we went inside to prep. presently we heard a wine glass break. "party's over!" i said. indeed, less than five minutes later, all was quiet on the terrace.

we got on the metro and the RER train to the tower, which was sort of silly since it's so close. while on the metro, we were sitting in these two jump seats facing the middle of one of the cars, by the door. i noticed this guy standing nearby with his back to us, conversing with a seated passenger. standing guy wore a dark green nylon jacket, greenish-grey trousers, and black shoes. he held a clipboard and seemed to be checking the ID of the seated guy. i noticed another dude by the door of the car, similarly dressed. the train stopped, the two green-jacketed dudes got off, and i realized they had to be cops of some sort. indeed, they joined a group of their own on the platform. why do you suppose they were checking up on seated passenger dude, who just looked like a college student or young worker with his gym bag and ipod? was it just randomness? he WAS black, but i thought the whole suspicion about people existing-while-black was more of an american thing.

after we got off the metro and went to the RER, we had to pass through a line of these same type of cops (male and female, of various ethnicities), who glanced at our cartes oranges and waved us through. just beyond them was a guy in the corner to the right, holding the leash of a muzzled german shepherd. we wondered what it was all about but knew it was best not to ask.

we arrived at the eiffel tower, but a little rain was sprinkling here and there, and the top deck was closed, probably b/c there were only 45 minutes till the last elevator went up. we decided it was cutting it too close and bailed. it had gotten warmer, probably due to heavier cloud cover, and so we decided to walk back. i stood under the tower and snapped a shot of it looking up with my cellphone. it's kind of a cool, kaleidoscope-looking thing. but i didn't send it to myself yet. oh, well.

the walk back took no time. one of my toes still feels kind of iffy, but i think i'll be ok tomorrow. hope so, b/c it's supposed to be rainy and even colder. so it's gonna be another massive museum day.

Thursday, June 5, 2008

venus de milo made me cry



wednesday was a seriously packed day -- which was good after tuesday's relative lull, but there was a price to pay. i wore my better-made shoes, but my period was raging, so i was all bloated, including my feet. the blisters were holding out pretty well thanks to fancy belgian stick-on fix-ups, but by the end of the day my dogs were pretty wrecked.

we started off with a bit of shopping, b/c deb had shoe issues of her own. went to a place called red cross square, where there are a lot of fancy designer stores, and also more reasonable ones. she found some shoes, and we decided to go to le bon marche and check it out.

also began to notice that the men in this city wear suits. nice suits. and they look v. nice in them. old men, young men, middle-aged men -- men walking on their own, men walking in groups, men riding scooters, men on motorbikes. men on the metro, men in taxicabs. men standing in doorways smoking; men walking with sandwiches, eating. it's totes awes. however, as lovely as they are, it mainly just makes me miss my very own personal man in a suit: 00soul.

so we went into the department store, and after some struggle (of the language variety) i purchased a pair of black footless fishnet tights to go under my dress. i've seen a lot of women wearing footless tights, from solids to patterns and black to bright colors. and my feet of course couldn't stand to have anything on them. then we rambled around for a while and checked out the stuff. deb was quite taken with some orange pucci prints, not to mention this amazing orange suede long jacket lined with orange fleece. on the ground floor, i lingered over a lovely long black gauzy scarf embroidered with paisleys. it wasn't too expensive, but i decided not to get it. i don't totally regret it, but a little...

finally we decided to go to the louvre. on the way we nipped into this bakery, where deb got a chocolate croissant. i had a bite -- it was quite tasty. we sorted out the metro and took a detour to l'orangerie to see the really big monet water lilies. they were in two long oval rooms that were sort of dark and cool, very peaceful. not too many people in them, considering. we sat and looked at each of them for a while. they were all quite beautiful but i liked the dark, dark nighttime one and another one with a willow tree the best.

then we went into the little shop, and i got a few postcards with details of the paintings on them, and a refrigerator magnet too.

after that the squirrel guided us to the metro and then to the louvre -- oops! nope. it was the grand palais and petit palais. "how did that happen?" she asked in bewilderment. my feet just groaned. we trudged across the street to a metro station, got oriented, and got to the louvre. then we found the museum-pass entrance, sliding in just ahead of a huge tour group.

but the museum itself wasn't all that crowded -- proportionally, it seemed like the d'orsay had been more hoppin'. we were hungry, so we went to the cafe marly and had lunch first. i had a croque monsieur (toasty double-decker ham and cheese on white bread) and she had a croque madame (the same, but with a fried egg on top). and wine. we sat on the terrace, and the sun came out! we watched three young men wearing camouflage and carrying machine guns amble over to where a car was parked on a crescent-shaped driveway. (we'd also seen an armed soldier standing watch in the airport while on the way to the baggage claim, and some other guys, more like SWAT dudes or something, converging on some building or other in full body armor while walking to invalides the day before.) "no trouble here!" we said (like we did whenever we saw such sights). and also joked, "no flash photography!" the docents at l'orangerie had been quite militant about warning people against using their flashes on the monets, but at the d'orsay the place seemed overwhelmed, and quite a few flashes went off despite the prohibition. the squirrel was getting pissed about this. b/c all that flashing damages the artwork, fucking idiot tourists!

i really wasn't up to the walking, but the louvre tour in the day by day book suggested seven things to see, and i was gonna by-god see 'em. it was fairly late in the day -- the museum is open late on wednesdays. but we had time, so we organized our assault and headed off. first to see vermeer's the lacemaker. it is small but quite lovely. then came the amusing the card sharper, georges de la tour's charming portrait of a naive young man being fleeced in a card game. then we saw the turkish bath, ingres's lush, busy take on boobies, with women all crowded together, chatting, having tea, getting their hair perfumed, gettin' a little busy, lounging in the bath, etc.

then we went to the ground floor. we followed a bunch of signs, and then the roar of the crowd. we ambled along a hallway ... and then there she was in the distance -- venus de milo. just standing there, looming over everyone's heads. looking amazing even without her arms. we approached, and i couldn't take my eyes off her. there was a tour bunch to my left, and as i got closer i heard the guide say "...she seems to breathe ... there is some magic to her ... ." and i looked at her chest, like i really expected to see her breathe. and then i looked right in her face, and i nearly lost it right there. it's hard to put it into words, how it made me feel. her face is perfect, and there's a sort of light that comes from her. there's a majesty to her, but an approachability that deb noted was possibly b/c of the pose that seems so naturalistic, not like a posed statue-type thing. whatever it was, i was nearly overcome.

i took two pix of her, the one above (angle suggested by the squirrel), and this one:



neither one does her justice, but i had to take them. i walked all around her and gazed in amazement. from every side, she's magnificent.

from venus we moved to the italian sculpture wing, where we saw canova's cupid awakening psyche. "it is love carved in stone," says the guidebook -- and it really is. this one also made me slightly verklempt. it seems to glow with an inner light -- not like venus, who seemed to gather light to her. but this was just seriously lit from within. i didn't take a picture; too many people around. it made me miss 00soul a lot.

we also looked at michelangelo's the dying slave and a bunch of other stuff that was pretty nice, but not as intense as cupid and psyche. although psyche seems to have been popular -- there was another cupid/psyche sculpture, and an ebony black one of mercury flying away with her ... i don't think she wanted to go.

then it was on to ... the mona lisa! the crowd here was even bigger than the one for venus. the experience of seeing it was nowhere near as transporting. in part, maybe, b/c the painting is small, and you can't get very close to it. it's behind glass now. the guidebook says that's b/c a vandal slashed it in the 1990s. (wtf is WRONG with people?) i didn't know that at the time of seeing it and thought that the glass was to guard it against the endless flash photography. anyway, here's my shot (sans flash and blown up):



while we were wandering around the galleries, i noticed some weird shit. like, in a corner of the room where the vermeer was, there was a plastic turtle and a plastic tomato. in an adjacent room was another plastic turtle, facing the other way, and another tomato, carved like a jack-o'-lantern. and some other tabletop-high replicas of battlefields in wide square boxes covered with fake beetles. "wtf?" i said, and became extremely agitated and confused by this strangeness. deb explained that it was part of some installation by jan fabre. i think that this banner was also part of it, and i took a picture of it expressly for anthony miller, b/c i thought he would dig it:



anyway ... the last thing we saw was winged victory of samothrace. wellll, the last thing on the tour list, at least. you kinda can't help seeing boatloads of other stuff, as the louvre is packed with art. like, packed. anyway, this headless statue also seemed quite majestic and incredible, although it didn't move me as much as venus did. another close-up from the original...



we exited through the egyptian stuff and then it was off to the little shop. i just got a couple of postcards and magnets. including a postcard of a (and i mean "a") painting by the only woman artist whose work we saw (which doesn't mean there aren't more women in there, of course), louise-elisabeth vigee-le brun. it was in this huge hall with a bunch of work by david -- including his massive capturing of the crowning of napoleon as emperor. which bonaparte did himself, taking the crown from the hands of the pope. like you do. the painting is amusing b/c of the expressions on everyone's faces -- sort of these forced smiles, like they're all muttering either, "yeah, great, now he's EMPEROR. whatevs" or "OMG DID YOU SEE HIM GRAB THAT CROWN FROM THE POPE?!?" and in the lower right corner i noticed a couple of altar boys, stuck behind a row of adults so they can't see shit, and they're much more interested in the sword of this nobleman standing in front of them. i had impure thoughts about that and decided i've been way too exposed to fandom.

anyway, by the time we were done with the little shop, i was well and truly damaged in the feet department. we went back to le carrousel de la louvre (ie, the mall of the louvre). the squirrel stopped for a starbucks espresso, and we made our way to le metro ... i was so messed up i forgot i wanted to take a picture of the fancy metro station sign that looked like the one in the tom baker who ep where he and romana II go to paris. le metro was tres crazy, and deb was squirreling out -- at one stop she darted onto the train and literally dragged me with her. at the next one, i was all set to line up with a set of doors, and i nearly lost her due to the squirrel-like randomness of her movements.

while on the train headed for our final destination, these dudes were getting a little weird. i think they were harmless, but the one dude kept eyeing us, and i was getting a little bit of radar up. suddenly, at the stop before ours, the squirrel goes, "we have to get off here." i was startled, b/c i'd just looked at the little map, and i thought i had it sussed. but i also had been idly thinking stuff like, "if these dudes follow us i'm totally gonna drag deb into a restaurant," etc. so i didn't even argue with her, partly b/c i was all, "eh?" and also b/c i thought it was her master plan to get away from the dudes -- after all, she understands more french than me, so i thought maybe she'd heard something. it turned out that she was just a little bamboozled due to also being weirded out by the weird dudes. so we waited three minutes, and another train came. she said that the one guy had actually been telling his friend not to lean on her hand (cuz we were holding onto the vertical rail by the doors and standing up). but she was also getting a weird vibe. so, whatevs. sorry, paris dudes.

we were pretty wiped out when we got back to the hotel, and i couldn't have walked too far. so we picked one of the cafes on the corner, cafe central, and went in. the maitre'd was, er, rather friendly. we split some foie gras -- not as good as la terrasse, better than cafe constant. i had steak frites -- when i ordered it medium rare, the guy's face lit up. like, "FINALLY a fuckin' american who knows how to eat a steak!" deb had another salad nicoise. we had some wine, and decided, due to my maitre'd BF, to get the cheese plate for dessert. the bleu was the best, but the other two (goat and something else) were also delish. we stumbled home. the squirrel's checking her email and fretting over the penguins being about to play the next (possibly last) stanley cup game. soon i will crash.

Wednesday, June 4, 2008

the first of many museums



i didn't sleep well on monday night, only like three hours. so on tuesday we got up, had breakfast -- the orsennes' beagle, othello, still hasn't given up begging off us, even though we don't feed the sweet l'il thing -- and took a while to get it together. but finally went off on le metro to the musee d'orsay, which was a total mob scene. (en route we had our totally dorky-americans moment of not being able to figure out how to work the damn cartes oranges, but we sorted it out.) luckily, we planned to buy a six-day paris museum pass -- so we went to a special purchasing line and, after we got the pass, were directed to a different entrance with a MUCH SHORTER line.

maybe the place was so crowded b/c it's popular -- but also b/c the weather totally sucked. wow, it's like scotland all over again. to say i'm disappointed would be an understatement. i wasn't expecting it to be blazing hot, but i am fucking pissed that it's basically going to chilly and rainy the whole time we're here. whatever.

anyway. my feet are already kind of a mess from all the walking. b/c it wasn't that warm yesterday, i didn't want to wear the flats i had engineered for this trip but stayed in my boots. mistake! today i wore my converse, which helped at first but ended up being just as bad. happily, we found some amazing blister-fixers in le drugstore, but the damage is done.

so, we used the museum tour in the book paris day by day. it suggests to see six things: carpeaux's sculpture la danse; manet's dejeuner sur l'herbe (Picnic on the Grass) -- which is the famous painting where the naked woman lounges with the totally clothed menfolk (i think it shoulda been called "picnic in your dreams, dude" but whatev ... apparently there is an early cover of ms. that reverses the lack-of-clothing sitch); renoir's moulin de la galette and degas's absinthe; a bunch of monet's waterlilies, lovely; degas's ballerina thing; van gogh's starry night (which the squirrel informed me was A starry night but not THE starry night -- tres confusing, but tres vrai aussi)

we saw a bunch of other stuff too -- including the amazingly ornate ceiling (and the famous clock, pictured at the top of this entry) of this grand hall itself -- a former train station, to quote the guidebook, "built for a 1900 exposition and later turned into a museum devoted to works created from 1848 to 1914." there was a lotta impressionism happening, and i learned the difference b/w manet and monet. it's way more than one letter, let me tell you. also, we admired the work of sisley very much and loved how when you stood across the room from his stuff it seemed to gain dimension and seemed incredibly ... realistic. ironically. in a couple of rooms, little old ladies had easels set up and were painstakingly copying paintings. they were really good at it.

there are some major recurring themes here, namely jesus/religion ... and boobies. universal subjects, i suppose.

anyway. we were hungry, so we nipped off to the little cafe. i had a glass of wine and the cheese plate, yum. deb had a nice toasted piece of bread with goat cheese slightly drizzled with honey. and wine. we went out on the terrace adjacent to the museum and took each other's pictures (and, no, you can't see them). close at hand was this statue:



and far off in the distance, we could see le sacre coeur (this is a close-up from the original shot):



here's an extreme close-up:



i am sure it would look really really beautiful if the sun were out. i've noticed that l.a. and paris have something in common: both look really kind of ugly and uninviting when it's cloudy. and, yes, i might stop complaining about the weather soon.

then we went to the little shop (i love a little shop -- and, yes, sadly, who-isms are finding their way into the conversations daily), where deb bought some postcards and i toyed with the idea, but felt tired and woozy and just wanted to go sit down outside. so i did, forgetting that it was cold. and it started to rain while i was out there. so i raised my umbrella and listened to joe henry on my ipod for a few minutes before the squirrel reappeared.

anyway. we actually went to les invalides to see napoleon's tomb, but my feet really hurt by then, and it was pretty late in the day. so we bagged it and returned to the hotel, and i took a nap for a while. my feet hurt, and i was wiped out (joyously, i'm also on the rag). then we regrouped and went to dinner at this place called cafe constant on 13 rue st. dominique. we got a little lost, and it was raining, but we saw the eiffel tower do its flashy thing with the top of the tower all enveloped in fog, which was kind of cool.

at the restaurant, where we were seated upstairs with the other americans, but also some french people, there was a jukebox replica that looked vintage, but i don't think it was. it had all manner of platters: brenda lee's "sweet nothin's," frank sinatra's "new york new york," tony bennett's "i left my heart in san francisco," eddie cochran's "summertime blues," marilyn monroe's "heatwave," skip & flip's "it was i," etc. etc. etc. we ordered red wine. while waiting for le food i watched this guy come up the steps with a bouquet of roses and some other tchotchkes, hand roses to the american women at the table near us, and couldn't believe it when they didn't know the guy was of course trying to get them to buy the roses -- they weren't free! the french woman at the table next to them tipped them off. le metro may have stumped us, but i'm glad we're at least savvy enough not to be taken in by the universal hustles.

anyway, i had homemade foie gras, deb had an asparagus and tomato salad aux provences. for entrees i had roasted lamb with white beans (OMG xlnt!) and she had chicken with tagliatelle, all artfully rolled up and seasoned with an amazing blend of herbs. no room for dessert -- bummer! the food was really good, but the foie gras wasn't as good as the one at la terrasse, which had tons of little notes of flavor. this was more straightforward, but creamy and delish.

limped back to the pad and relaxed for a while. tonight i'm taking an ambien -- must sleep.