Eiffel Tower at Night

Le Journee Du Patrimonie

Tuesday morning, September 22
1:30 am
(Thanks to my noisy neighbors I am up and trying to make the best of their partying by catching up on my blog)
The weather was beautiful this past weekend and for four days I have drenched myself in Paris, not taking the time to blog, just enjoying. And why not? This is Paris! This is what I came to do: immerse myself fully in its culture, rhythm and life.

Annually, there is a two-day observation of something entitled Le Journee Du Patrimonie. Many government offices and museums throughout France participate by inviting the public to visit - gratis - any of the buildings they want. I had been forwarned of the cues, but off I set, early in the morning, anxious to see some things in Paris actually for free!

First on the list was the Assembly Nationale. Totally unexpected and by far my favorite place, the Assembly Nationale is equivelent to our U.S. Senate and Versailles all rolled into one exquisite compound. It just took my breath away. The people who worked there, all highly intelligent but warm and welcoming disspelled any myth that the French lacked warmth.

And lo and behold! Standing two feet away from me was the President of the Assembly National, Bernard Accoyer. He was mingling amongst the common folk (and that would sure be me. I had to wear sneakers that day and looked awful, I am sorry to say) but there I was. I just stepped forward and introduced myself. He was most gracious to speak a few minutes with me, ask me where I was from and then launched into his version of English telling me about having just been to the U.S. Honestly, I hadn't much of a clue what he was talking about as his English was about as good as my French, but I was thrilled to meet him and get my photo taken with him. Hopefully, I can figure out how to upload the photo to this blog. I still am struggling with uploading photos; I think I have duplcated my photos (all of them) each time I upload. It is a mess.

On I went through two days of freebies: the magnificent stained glass windows of Sainte Chappelle. I have always wanted to see this and it did not disappoint. The hugely tall windows display 1100 biblical scenes from the Creation to Judgement Day. The natural element of lights through which they shine are supposed to reflect the light of God. Because they are so tall it would have been nice to have erected a platform for the tourists so we could more easily view the scenes which were hard to view from so far below. I must look for the concert schedule there as I think the place would be a wonderment with music.

Next door at the Conciergerie I was disappointed that they opened up so little of the infamous jail that housed Marie Antoinette. In and out (and grateful for no cues ) and on I went. Next stop, the always-admired and most beautiful building of the Hotel de Ville. I have also always wanted to go in there and patiently (see, I am becoming a Parisenne) I waited in line for that opportunity. It, too, was lovely. It now functions as the City Hall of Paris, but again, one of these ornate structures with magnificant murals both on the ceiling and walls, elaborate chandeliers, stained glass etc. I really liked it (although it didn't compare with the Assembly Nationale).

Exhausted, I met a lovely, new friend, Flo, 25 years old who wants to practice her English on me with hopes of getting a job in San Francisco and she, in turn will help me with my French. A lovely acquaintance and I am happy to finally meet a woman! Then, after Perrier and conversation, I walked home (several miles) and fell into bed, rested and then got up to go and meet a date. At least that was the plan. The plan collapsed, however, when there was a bomb scare on the metro. Police surrounded the connection stop where I was and I couldn't connect to where I was going. Off I struggled with my infected toe, hobbling along the street to where my meet place was with my date. Of course, by the time I got there he had left, thinking I stood him up. Then, hungry for dinner but too tired to eat, after much ado a cafe waiter finally hailed me a cab to get me home. Taxis were very popular that night and they were hard to find.

What a crazy day!

Sunday I visited the exquisite Petit Palais. I was quite taken with its beauty, and again, those gorgeous ceiling murals and all the art treasures. My spirit lightened; my mood sang. Further, when I left there I walked to one of my all-time favorite museums, Orangerie, which houses nothing but Impressionist Paintings. It is such a little treasure of a building. Musee D'Orsay gets all the press, but this impressive collection just drowns your soul in beauty. I wish I could eat it. This was what I came to Paris for. Problems disappeared; My heart was alive once more.

Off I trotted to have my weekly Chocolat crepe and then came home, quite happy and content with the whole experience only to have an interesting date with a new man. After wine in Trocadero we walked over to the Seine to watch the Eiffel Tower (my favorite place in Paris at night) twinkle for its five minutes on the hour. The weather was perfect, the night filled with people drinking in the last few days of summer. How romantic can one weekend get?

Word for the Day: Joy de Vie (Joy of Life) It is returning!

One last word: I am still adjusting to my new laptop and I haven't a clue where the spell check is so please forgive typos.

Montmartre

September 17 Thursday

Last week I spent a couple of days up in Montmartre, the hilly 18 arrondissment of Paris, where Windmills still stand, now ghosts of times past. While it is a bit too hilly for every day living for me (sort of like San Francisco), it is now an upscale, lively area where Toulouse-Lautrec and Degas would sit with drink in one hand and sketch pad in another "observing" the characters who frequented its bars and pubs. Who amongst us hasn't see these posters? But there is a ghost present; I saw a man, whose photo I quickly grabbed (hence not the clearest photo) who looked like the reincarnation of a character from one hundred plus years ago. But with my special friend, Julien, our day was relaxed, quiet and serene. The next day, on Saturday, it burst with the engergy that only tourists and their money brings any area of Paris and hence was a bit overwhelming to me. Still I climbed the streets and pathways up to Socre Coeur. It was one of the few basilicas that still does not allow photography as it is a praying, active church. I had seen it before and still marvel, each time I return as those gorgeous, artesian stained glass windows.
Montmartre used to be a wine village separate from the busy city of Paris. There is much wine flowing through this area even if it is not bottled there it certainly is distributed there! Salute!

Motorcyle Princess

OK,I am here to try new things: right? Of course, I am right.

Last week I had a gentleman come to meet me and show me Paris, as it turned out in a whole new creative way...via a full-grown motorcycle! I gulped, kicked myself for not having asked the mode of transportation and then said (to myself): Well, kiddo, you wanted new experiences...

Off we flew with these large, padded helmets, which are mandatory in Paris, and I saw Paris like I never dreamed I would, wind in my face, zipping around arrondissments one after the other!

I thought I did very well, thank you, and it was a great day.

Word of the Day: Very Well: Tres Bien (tray be n)

A Sunday Stroll in Paris

A Sunny Afternoon in Paris

Sunday September 6

As dismal as Saturday was Sunday was the opposite.
I surrounded myself in beauty. First, when I got on the metro some young man playing the violin with some romantic theme, which I can't remember now, brought a smile to my face. What a way to travel and I don't hesitate to tip these musicians when they move along. The criteria for a tip is that they have brought a smile to my face. A smile should be worth a half euro, don't you think.

On the first Sundays in Paris many of the most popular museums are open free to the public. I chose my favorite, Musee D'Orsay. While it was predictably crowded, gads, can you imagine room after room filled with masterpieces. Take a long exhale. Interestingly, while they had a security point upon entrance there was very little security in the museum. They also let people bring in cokes, water and cameras. And you were allowed to photo shoot as long as there were no flashes. With these wonderful new digitals I had fun shooting away at my favorite paintings.

After a lunch of baguettes sandwich on the terrace off I trotted to Notre Dame. More queing and in we went. I must admit I absolutely adore these centuries old stainned glass windows. Then I realized I had to get yet into another que to climb the zillion steps up to the towers to have an overview of Paris. After thirty minutes in line I said "forget it". Enough for today of ND.

I couldn't help it. There are these crepe stands everywhere and I indulged in a delicious chocolat crepe, let it drizzle down my chin and was only angry at myself that I would waste even a drizzle of that yummy chocolate.

On I tread to Ile St Louis, one island over from the island Notre Dame is located. There was a little impromptu music and massages and people watching silly shows. Then I showed down the quaint, narrow streets of this tiny island. When I thought I should got on to the concert at The American Church in Paris, I then (again) became disoriented-or so I thought-and asked a lady to show me the way to Notre Dame. She pointed back the way I came so back I went only to later realize she was wrong and I had been correct. Turning around, getting tired by this time since I had been walking seven hours I retreat my way towards the Church.

Along the way I watched a young bride and groom pose for their first photos at the Seine, a young couple snuggling on the sidewalk, book venders along the street, surely one of my more peaceful Sundays.

I arrived thirty minutes late for the concert, exhausted pure and simple. I sat in the back pew and reminded myself of my father who always nodded off in Church (and embarrassed his daughters in so doing). When it was apparent I wasn't going to last the concert, after about a half hour I left and walked on to the Eiffel Tower and then on a restaurant, which I should have skipped, and then mon appartement.

8 l/2 hours of walking. Good Lord, my feet haven't been the same. But at least it was not raining.

Words for the Day: Sunday - Dimanche

Chocolate - Chocolat (pronounced cho Ko la) . A very important word in any language, as far as I am concerned!

Here are some of the photos I took on Sunday.

My First Weekend in Paris

Friday, September 4

When one door closes, another opens.

Attitude is everything, isn't it? Trying to overcome gloomy weather, a foreign language, connections that don't happen, a faulty rental agency and learning how to get around. .. When problems developed for one American man who was supposed to spend the afternoon and evening with me, lo and behold! I am invited to dinner with another! It was a charming little restaurant near the Louvre, very typical French and a delightful evening. We started with champagne (seems like a good tradition to establish). I enjoyed every delicious mouthful of a Seafood Quenneles with a lobster bisque-type sauce. Then I had their especiality of the nuit (night): Monkfish, perfectly cooked, with leeks and a side of potatoes and zucchini. We polished off the meal with a nice Pinot Noir. And before my date knew it, I said "Au revoir" and was whisked off at midnight (like Cinderella) to my appartement (a par ta mon) via cab. OK, OK, so Cinderella didn't have a cab, but you get it: I went home, past a sparkling Eiffel Tower to my apartment. Cuisine and wine saved the day, once again.
Word of the Day: Au revoir. Good Bye. Not easy to say accurately but everyone accepts the various versions that are pro-offered. Mine is something like this ar-war based on what one of my French teachers taught us. Pronounce both r's she stated emphatically. She should know; she is French.

Saturday September 7

My day in hell.

OK, so forget everything I said about how "romantic" Paris can be in the rain. Basically, because that rain seems to unpredictable it has definitely lost its "romantic"luster. But then rain can be easily considered romantic if you are in the comfort of your boudoir with the partner you love even if it is Timbuktuu. That is the only time, however. The weather gods, as any intelligent soul knows, varies the weather within any particular city area simultaneously. No different Paris.
So sunny at my apartment doesn't suggest elsewhere will be so. So now I know.
Even with the metro and city maps in tow I still got lost today. And now I recognize that many parisiennes don't always give good directions, bless their socialist souls.
I walked, and walked, and walked and finally, after what seemed a hundred miles to my feet, I neared my destination (after hours of wrong directions) and voila! It poured rain (merci beaucoup, ye olde weather gods). Forget the cats and dogs; it poured horses! So it was an exhausting, dark and dreary day as I stumbled home in a depressed and gloomy mood.
Morale of the story: Bring your umbrella everywhere. C'est ce bon.
We travelers are always hungry for new experiences (I am just always hungry), which often come when one chooses to live in a foreign country.
I was at a supermarche (market) and I noticed a sign that said "femmes enceintes". Well, I knew I was a femmes since I check regularly, and as it turned out I got into the wrong line. The reminder sign translated that all pregnant women can go to the front of the line any time. I have to conclude that just because I have a nice round Katy Kangaroo pouch that my "love lines" - OK, crow's feet - around my eyes tells the world I probably am not capable of being pregnant now --unless I am going for a Guiness World Record. Back they sent me - unpregnant tummy and all - to learn once again the hard way - that there are many words I must learn. But if they were really gentile, they would add: "menopausal women with guns"to that previlege. That would, of course include vaster numbers of shoppers.
But all in all, it is one of those charming little tradtions the French support. And so do I.
Word of th Day: Femmes enceintes - pregnant women (give 'em a break).

More to write about lovely Sunday with lots of photos but this site is telling me I am talking too much. Imagine!

Photos : It's a Miracle!

So,hopefully, the photos will make the transfer. Enjoy.

September 2

Bienvenue a Paris!

So, I have arrived. I have come - finally - to live in Paris!

After a grueling flight we arrived to Paris in the rain. Yep, it was raining cats and french poodles (I couldn't resist that)which slowed traffic into the city because of it.

I flew Air France. The name would suggest that they took pride in their namesake: France, but one wouldn't know from the food served. Yikes! Overcooked, tiny entree with week-old croissants and chocolate cake without frosting! (can you imagine?): whatever happened to good airline food? Gone. Gone with the economy wind. I remember flying business class to Hong Kong where they laid out large Cadbury bars; every five minutes (when the business men were asleep) I snuck to the Cabury and suffed more in my pockets. I think Northwest changed their policy of free chocolate after that. I am sure they talked about me for years and now, alas, one is not served free range chocolate, any more. Yep, blame it on me! With the poor food on Air France, it was a great time to continue on my never-ending diet! Next to me was a mother and three young children, all banging, arguing and carrying on for the entire flight until we were ready to land; then they went to sleep. Needless to say, no one surrounding this entourage slept on the plane. It was a sold out flight; we were packed into our little cells like prisoners in the Bastille.

OK, now that I have gotten that out of the way, here I am at my new apartment in the 15th. The apartment itself is fine and the neighborhood even better, bustling with people, shops, restaurants and walking distance to the Eiffel Tower, two blocks from the Seine. I hope to get some of the kinks worked out in the apartment. It is interesting to note that my SOS emails to my rental agency are not going answered. I will give them another day and then tell you who NOT to use when you come to Paris....

I always had a fantasy about rain in Paris. There is something romantic about the cats and french poodles in Paris, isn't there? It is lightly drizzling now as I type this to you. But alas, I am alone....

Today I went to the open air market and purchased fresh food. Then later I went to the Monoprix (super market) where I waited forty-five minutes in line to check out. No "Two's Company" policy, like at Albertson's back home. After a rest I sauntered to the Eiffel Tower. What would Paris be without the Eiffel Tower? Forget how touristy it is. The angles of the Tower are a photographer's dream. I ended walking about seven miles today and decided to stay home this evening to see if I could download the photos. Downloading photos: not the easiest thing for this writer, but hopefully I will figure it out so I can share some of my photography with you.

Word of the Day: Bienvenue - Welcome