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About to leave Paris...
Entry 12 of 14 | show all | print this entry |
The church bells of Notre Dame are ringing, the sidewalks are wet, and we've just emerged from a cafe and a second breakfast. The first was a quickie due to having to leave our apartent on the Ile St. Louis by 9:30 am. Much dashing about and regretful pitching of food in fridge (Jerry) and compulsive re-reading of departure instructions (me). Somehow I have wedged fabric, books, tea towels, trips journals, and God knows what, into our luggage--did not end up mailing things home from Paris, too expensive and too much hassle re Postale. So we will stagger off at 2:45 this afternoon with dead weight luggage that we somehow have to negotiate down a steep spiral staircase to the lobby.
Was so frustrated by losing an entry yesterday with what I considered scrummy details re visits to Versailles and the Louvre (most of what have to say about the latter is cranky, so maybe not bother. How MANY people view the Louvre as An Obligatory, when it's full of painting with religious and mythological iconography that so few grasp and even if you do, do you care?). The Pyramid is an organizational disaster, in my humble opinion. Was so glad to escape all that and make our way, umbrellas blowing inside out, to the Musee de l'Orangerie, with the two magical oval rooms, each with four massive paintings of Monet's waterlilies. The lighting is so wonderful--skylight, subtle flourescent, and then scrim over all of it, so the light changes gradually, subtlely, simulating what Monet saw, as he painted his waterlily pond at Giverny more then 300 times. The scale of that museum is just right, peaceful.
The return trip from Versailles, where the gardens were a delight, despite frequent squalls, was interesting because we got chummy with an Australian couple, man in a sporty wheelchair, both in their fifties, who were on a 90-day trip fraught with complications because of his "chair," as he put it. They were waiting on the platform for the return train to Paris and overheard us inquiring when the next train to Paris would leave. They told us there'd been a fire on the tracks, and the delay could be as long as an hour. We'd just about decided to split taxi costs with them and ride back Paris, but because he was in a wheechair, the station personnel were especially solicitous, so he was kept informed of what was going on before anyone else was. The train ended up coming after a 40-minute wait, and Jerry and I helped hold back the crowd so this brave, game man, humorous and so adaptable, could get on to it. Liked this couple so much. And me complaining re 3 weeks of travel logistics! Yikes.
Versailles was so mobbed that it was tiresome, and we literally ran out of the State Apartments to escape it, giving up on touring other parts of the Palace. There were huge bussed-in groups, people insistent on having their photos taken in front of things, which meant no one else could see. Afterwhile, it's one more fantastically painted ceiling, even more gilt, another Louis with a thin tight smile and billowing white curls. Jeff Koons has pieces in several of the State Apartment salons, enormous, incongruous scuptures; I took several pictures of those (see, I'm one of the regular tourists). That and the room where the poor queens had to give birth in public to prove the validity of their heirs were of particular interest. (No wonder Marie Antoinette escaped to the Petite Trianon, which is a long walk through the gardens, very pleasant, and quite an interesting building.)
We've eaten on the Ile St. Louis exclusively--little crepe/omelette/gelato/soup/salad places very close by. We're so exhuasted by the end of a day of touristing that walking just a few yards to a local restaurant seems the most welcome alternative. Going by Metro to Ruth Reichl's latest recommendations to outer arrondisments is completely unappealing when its cold and rainy. Also, fluffy brains on toast do not sound good to me (though fun to read about!).
Now we're off to the Eiffel Tower and then a bit more wandering before we collect our bags, stagger down those spiral stairs, and be off to the airport.
Au revoir, Paris. It kept me awake last night, thinking how our week Paris is over, London is over, and now we have a quick dip back into NYC (about 24 hrs) and home.
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| 12. | About to leave Paris... - Paris, France Oct 05, 2008 |
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