The main event

Today is Mona Lisa day.

We’d done some reconnaissance on our first day in town, and knew the best time and place for getting to the Louvre ahead of tourists. So, our morning was both early and easy…

The pyramid was still impressive even on a second look:


And from inside it makes an even nicer contrast with the curly beauty of Henry II’s 16th century palace:


I was surprised to find the entrance was actually a roof, but travelling further underground showed the dynamism of I M Pei’s design to really good effect. But, I was here to see older art than this…

The gorgeousness of it all took my breath away. I had to keep remembering to look up at ceilings about ten metres high:


As Lucy and I made our way following a rather tricky map to ‘the main event’, I took lots of mental notes about returning to see the massive Greek and Roman after we’d caught up with Mona.

I think we were the sixth and seventh people in the massive gallery set aside for bustling tourist pilgrimages. Mona was a pretty cool painting, and I laughed to find out that her eyes really do follow you around the room. (If only my picture could do her justice.)

Of course, we may have been first-ish but it didn't take long for the room to full up. Having got tired of Americans talking too loudly and taking naughty flash photos, I finally turned my attention from the masterpiece and noticed the massive oil paintings in the rest of the room. They were at least 10m long and 4m tall – and very “wow!”.

And that was only the beginning. Room after room looked like this one, which happens to have my two favourite renaissance paintings side by side – Liberty leading the people by Delacroix (1830) and
The raft of the Medusa by Gericault (1818):


Even in some of the smaller galleries, the quality is amazing:


And still there are more breathtaking ceilings:


After an hour and half or so, it actually got a bit much. Tourists were crowding all the famous paintings and ignoring the other really good ones – which was a bit depressing. So, I made my way past the Venus de Milo (4th century BC) and the Winged Victory of Samothrace (3rd century BC) and out into the also-glorious sunshine.

A nibble of bread and avocado kept me amused until my fellow traveller arrived. We were both impressed with the atmosphere and wealth of the museum, and had lots to talk about on our way to Montmarte for lunch…

Le Centre George Pompidou

Feeling very much like dedicated tourists, Lucy and I decided we could manage ANOTHER stop on our first exploring day. Luckily, the Centre George Pompidou was very close to the restaurant:


Finished in 1977, the Centre houses an extensive collection of modern art in a building designed to ‘turn architecture inside out’. Stairs, elevators and pipes are all on the outside, and are colour coded according to function: yellow for electricity, red for transport, blue for air, and green for water. It is a fun building, but not that shocking because it looks so much like the QEII hydroslide.

Once inside we explored various corners. I don’t remember what the art is all called, so shall just show you the pictures. I liked the first piece here because it takes bravery to make enormous wool kebabs and call them art. The rest I liked for being colourful and well made:







We spent over an hour in here, and it was very pleasant.

Having had a long and full day, we took a gentle stroll back through quietly commercial back streets to our hotel.

Jour deux – le debut

Having spent a wonderful birthday simply following my nose, it was now time to get a little more deliberate in our wanderings. This meant a journey to Île de la Cité and Notre Dame (STPN4):


Being a Sunday, it was a bit crowded. There was really only one circular path that could be taken through the crowds and it skirted pews and pews of people taking Mass. Listening to a French liturgy was quite enjoyable, and the service added another dimension to some rather stunning glass and sculpture. I don’t think my photo of the Rose Window can do it justice, but I shall try:


Lucy disappeared into the pews, and I made it my business to check out every corner in the massive building. One of my favourite finds was the educational display into how the cathedral was made:


The scale models underlined why it took almost 200 years to finish the cathedral (c1345, if you’re interested), and gave real pause for thought as I explored the rest of the complex.

My tour didn’t get as far as the towers and gargoyles, as I figured these were shut during services. As it turned out, it was just that we’d arrived too early for normal tourists, so hadn’t seen the queue at the side of the cathedral that gave the whole thing away.

Alack, I was over the whole cathedral thing by then and it was time to venture towards the Bastille.

Our wandering took us off the island, over the Seine and into Saint Germain de Pres. Although it certainly had a funky feel, there wasn’t much of a ‘Left Bank’ hurrah going on. Instead, it was just more gentle strolling in the sunshine. One hundred and forty three families on electric bicycles with baguettes in their backpacks passed us by as we made our way towards the site where the French Revolution began. It is now (a la Le Arc) an enormous roundabout, and was too boring for even a photograph.

Thus, we paid far more attention to this fifteen-piece funk band. They were cool. I have their internet address somewhere…:


Their stage was one end of a market, so we bravely ventured forth to practice our French and stock up on bread, meat and cheese (which smelt like dead people). We munched on that as I got us completely lost somewhere in northern Paris. That was a bit stressful.

Fortunately, there was a metro nearby, and we were soon back on course for the Place des Vosges. This trendy little square was built in 1612, and is the first example of European town planning. The gardens were suffering a bit from winter, so the chocolatiers lining the streets fore and aft were of much greater notice. As was the Picasso Museum – where we spent about forty minutes. It is small but a good stop in a wander though an interesting neighbourhood:


The sandwiches and chocolate had worn off by now, so Lucy and I were hungry and getting a bit grumpy. Amazingly, we found an organic restaurant that served lots of wholefoods and dairy-free options for those unable to eat dead people cheese (i.e. moi). It doesn’t look like much, but this place served the kind of food I dream of eating on a night out:


Being in a rather expensive part of Paris, the floor space is so precious that the tables sit next to each other. It was rather intimate, but quite fun. (Organic red wine helped!)

Lucy said the coffee was some of the best she’s had, and I am sure the energy kick stood her in good stead for our last stop of the day…. Which I will write about in my next post.

Bon jour Paris - Happy Birthday to moi.

Lucy and I had a weekend away in Paris for my birthday. We began in style with a 2.5 hour trip on the Eurostar from Kings Cross to Gare du Nord. Having made it to the hotel by bedtime, it was lovely to put head upon pillow knowing I would be turning 30 in France.

Unsurprisingly, I woke up early and excited. Lucy was as happy as I, so we headed out to get some morning sunshine and see the sights.

I knew I was in a stylish kind of town when I saw the effort they take with public toilets:


We had most of this stylishness to ourselves as it was definitely the tourist off season. So, we found ourselves strolling empty and winter-barren pathways around the Louvre complex. Fortunately, it was warm and the first celebration of the day was a sugary birthday crepe in the sunshine at at the end of Le Jardin des Tuileries.

The next logical step was along the Champs Elysses towards the Arc de Triomphe. Cue Standard Tourist Photograph Number One:


The Arc is the centre of a massive roundabout that stretches to five lanes wide. Not that there are any lanes marked. Cars go crazy, so pedestrians are fortunate to be able to scurry underground and emerge mole-like in the middle.

The Arc is very pretty, and I didn't it realise it was quite so detailed with all the inscriptions of wars and the fallen. They have plans for a museum inside as well, but it was basically empty when we made our wobbly way up the inner spiral staircase to the top.

The view was pretty good. It was nice to get some more sunshine and capture Standard Tourist Photograph Number Two:


I had been told to approach the tower from the Trocadero, and being up high made it much easier to work out what they meant. So, we absorbed as much vitamin D as possible and made our way southwards. A cute but not amazing restaurant fed us salad nicoise, and shortly enough we were at the Tower.

I had planned to be on the top at 2:48pm, but the queues just looked too long and I was feeling my age (!). Instead, we walked along the Esplanade towards Le Hotel de Invalides (STPN3):


This building was founded by Louis XIV in 1640, but eventually became Napolean's Tomb. Thus, the interior is rather posh:


It is quite an interesting monument, with some good displays. Not many people I know have seen one of Napolean's hats, and aside from the fact it might be the one he actually died in, it is kinda cool.

The rest of the complex is given over to army memorabilia. That didn't catch our fancy for very long, so we headed back out.

One of the things I have learned about Paris is that only a small proportion of the monuments and things make it into the guidebooks. So, I was caught by surprise by the grandeur of the many bridges over the Seine. I think the French do a good golden horse:


But, they do food even better, and the next stop on the itinerary was a birthday celebration to find out just how well.... (this is the bit where I refrain from mentioning I had to go home for a nap first.)

We were fortunate to find somewhere traditional next to our hotel:


It looks innocuous enough, but Bistrot Richelieu was awesome. My entree was pate as good as the best I have ever had, and this was followed by steak with scalloped potatoes and a stewed tomato. We toasted our happiness with champagne and had a good time being a little bit spoiled by the magnificent garcon.

Prior research had given me an idea to finish the night with some dancing in a women's bar in Marais, the lavender quarter. We duly made our way via Metro only to find my information was wrong, and there was no dancing to be had. Fortunately, emergency creme caramel and tart tartan were available nearby...

So, in a tiny cafe in a beautiful city, my birthday came to an end.