This apartment hotel has three front loaders and three dryers on level -1. So today I washed and dried two loads of our clothing. Not quite as exciting as museums and strolling tree lined boulevards but still a rewarding event.
Our footy team, The Mighty Cats (and current ruling Premiers) were playing traditional rivals, Hawthorn. Back home, both daughters - Delanie and Jenna - attended the game.
Over here, Rob followed ith with a combination of regular SMS updates, mainly from Jenna, an AFL website that constantly updated scores, plus listening to SEN coverage occasionally. At times he was too nervous to listen and would disconnect.
Apparently some media thought Geelong would not get within 5 or 6 goals of the Hawks. The first quarter led to high spirits, but as the point difference tightened, poor Woodsie was a nervous wreck. Apparently Jenna had started to leave the game, but turned back.
In a classic struggle, Tom Hawkins kicked a goal just as the siren sounded, to scramble a two point win. Woodsie was so thrilled with their effort. He used the iPad to read comments, watch video highlights and just revel in their stunning achievement. (Hello to Janet & Jacob, who might not share this elation.).
It was mid afternoon by now so we walked down towards Notre Dame, but still on the East Bank side, grabbed two ham and cheese rolls for lunch, and walked to the Luxenbourg Gardens to sit and rad, whilst we ate. Like many gardens we have seen, the many paths are lined with dozens of benches. Maybe as so many live in apartments, with only tiny balconies to connect with the outside, this is a response to that need. The park was alive with people. What really appealed to us was, apart from benches, the Gardens had hundreds of metal chairs. People could move them about to where they wanted to sit.
We walked the area, trying to find the hotel we stayed in last time. I should have looked up my travel journal from that trip BEFORE WE LEFT. It is one of several tasks I have discovered I should have done. Like book tickets to a show like Moulin Rouge, which are all sold out, being summer and peak tourist season.
We have both vague memories of where it is but could not locate it. But still enjoyed what we saw in our fruitless search, anyway.
A macaroon and chocolate shop mysteriously lured me in on the way home. I tried to resist, but was overwhelmed by the trays of individual chocolates, all laid out under sparkling glass counter tops. The young female attendant had her hair all piled up loosely on her head, with a huge bow. How wonderful.
Tonight we intend to celebrate Geelong's determined win with crepes, maybe over on the Island. We may go see the Effiel Tower lit up later as well. Again, the amazingly vibrant streets of Paris will draw us out to walk about and soak up the atmosphere. Maybe another Kir Royale too.
Go Catters!!!!!
Friday, 3 August 2012
Picasso, Hemingway and Me
Early this morning we set off, map in hand, to find 7 Rue de Grenelle. It is on a corner in a wealthy area of the East Bank. For my friends Jenny, Caro, Robyn x 2, Rosie and Nancy, plus Ally, this address has significance.
It is the setting for the French best seller, made into a movie, The Elegance of a Hedgehog. I stood right outside, looking for the entrance where Renee Michel would sweep and clean, emerge to do her meagre shopping. Below now is a Prada store and the corner opposite YSL.
We walked all around the block, just in case there was a back entrance. But I will have to content myself with the knowledge that, if that property of rich and troubled Parisennes existed, I stood right outside!
Next was a walk to find somewhere to sit, read and sip coffee. By sheer chance, we encountered Les Deux Margots, a cafe (hello Sister Barb) of significance in artistic and literary circles. Luminaries like Picasso, Hemingway, Sarte, Simone de Beauvoir all frequented this. Famous cafe, established in 1884.
We chose a table outside, to watch this intersection of Paris and all the bustle. We ordered coffee, as at only 10 in the morning I wrongly assumed it was too early for a Kir Royale. An sms from a Barb corrected this misconception, so it was duly ordered.
Inside the decor may not have changed. I stood with my camera to snap the rows of bottles in their preparation area. But a tall man in a suit asked me not to.
This is our back stage, it is messy, we prefer you don't, he requested.
To me it is amazing, but I will defer to your request, I replied, with my best little reverent French nod of my head.
A delivery van had left dozens of crates of drinks on the pavement edge, beyond the tables. One man, using a metal pole with a hook, was dragging several at a time inside. They were put onto a dumb waiter type platform, and mechanically lowered to storage below, with the two halves of the floor closing over the top.
Over the road was a mid size church. I went inside while Rob tried to locate us on the map. The rich had square stone pavers on the floor and instead of wooden benches, individual rush-covered chairs. The high ceiling was sufficiently gloomy that the rings of eight lights set along both sides seemed to glow unsupported, as around each circle of eight bulbs, it was so dark.
We passed many amazing shops on the way home. Not huge stores, little boutiques and galleries, with amazing clothing, shoes, handbags, works of art.
Paris is the city to be if one has a credit card with sufficient funds to indulge oneself. I must be content to merely look.
It is the setting for the French best seller, made into a movie, The Elegance of a Hedgehog. I stood right outside, looking for the entrance where Renee Michel would sweep and clean, emerge to do her meagre shopping. Below now is a Prada store and the corner opposite YSL.
We walked all around the block, just in case there was a back entrance. But I will have to content myself with the knowledge that, if that property of rich and troubled Parisennes existed, I stood right outside!
Next was a walk to find somewhere to sit, read and sip coffee. By sheer chance, we encountered Les Deux Margots, a cafe (hello Sister Barb) of significance in artistic and literary circles. Luminaries like Picasso, Hemingway, Sarte, Simone de Beauvoir all frequented this. Famous cafe, established in 1884.
This is our back stage, it is messy, we prefer you don't, he requested.
To me it is amazing, but I will defer to your request, I replied, with my best little reverent French nod of my head.
A delivery van had left dozens of crates of drinks on the pavement edge, beyond the tables. One man, using a metal pole with a hook, was dragging several at a time inside. They were put onto a dumb waiter type platform, and mechanically lowered to storage below, with the two halves of the floor closing over the top.
Over the road was a mid size church. I went inside while Rob tried to locate us on the map. The rich had square stone pavers on the floor and instead of wooden benches, individual rush-covered chairs. The high ceiling was sufficiently gloomy that the rings of eight lights set along both sides seemed to glow unsupported, as around each circle of eight bulbs, it was so dark.
We passed many amazing shops on the way home. Not huge stores, little boutiques and galleries, with amazing clothing, shoes, handbags, works of art.
Paris is the city to be if one has a credit card with sufficient funds to indulge oneself. I must be content to merely look.
Thursday, 2 August 2012
Culture Overload
Today we saw three major Paris attractions. First was the gallery of contempory art, Centre Pompidou. Next we braved the Metro, to catch one train, change to a second line, to arrive near our second destination.
When I say "we" those who know me well realise Woodsie takes the lead and I follow.
We saw Les Invalides, built by Louis XIV as a home for wounded soldiers and now housing antique arms and armour. Plus inside the Eglise du Dome in an open circular crypt lies Napoleon's red tomb.
Literally over the road is the Musee Rodin. Rob chose to sit on the steps outside this time (can't blame him) whilst I wandered about I side. Then we strolled around the extensive gardens, admiring more statues there.
Two more trains and we were near the apartment. We called in somewhere along the way for a refreshment. Having left at 10 this morning, it was 7 at night when we straggled back.
Later we wandered out to find somewhere for dinner. We ended up at a corner restaurant on Boulevard Saint-Michel, sitting outside, watching a constant parade of people.
It was 9.45 pm when we returned and the sun had not yet gone to bed. But after another day of seeing so much, walking so far, standing, moving, climbing ... we are certainly ready to do so ourselves.
When I say "we" those who know me well realise Woodsie takes the lead and I follow.
We saw Les Invalides, built by Louis XIV as a home for wounded soldiers and now housing antique arms and armour. Plus inside the Eglise du Dome in an open circular crypt lies Napoleon's red tomb.
Literally over the road is the Musee Rodin. Rob chose to sit on the steps outside this time (can't blame him) whilst I wandered about I side. Then we strolled around the extensive gardens, admiring more statues there.
Two more trains and we were near the apartment. We called in somewhere along the way for a refreshment. Having left at 10 this morning, it was 7 at night when we straggled back.
Later we wandered out to find somewhere for dinner. We ended up at a corner restaurant on Boulevard Saint-Michel, sitting outside, watching a constant parade of people.
It was 9.45 pm when we returned and the sun had not yet gone to bed. But after another day of seeing so much, walking so far, standing, moving, climbing ... we are certainly ready to do so ourselves.
Euro Outrage
We are taking a break in the cafe of Musee George's Pompidou. Again our Paris Museum Pass allowed us to bypass a lengthy queue and waltz right in, Matilda.
The famous escalators encased in glass glide up attached to the outside of the building. Hello to Bev in Shepparton who old love the views over Paris we saw. At the highest level, I admit feeling a tad giddy at being up high.
On our way here, arriving before the 11 am opening time, we sat opposite for a coffee to fuel another gruelling day of High Culture!! The cost was €11. A big steep but as Woodsie said, "We are paying for the atmosphere."
For lunch, we ordered a croissant, salmon bagel and two fresh orange juices. Remember, we are inside an art gallery where prices tend, at least in Australia, to be way higher. The total? Only €13. Made the two coffees seem even more expensive!!!
The famous escalators encased in glass glide up attached to the outside of the building. Hello to Bev in Shepparton who old love the views over Paris we saw. At the highest level, I admit feeling a tad giddy at being up high.
On our way here, arriving before the 11 am opening time, we sat opposite for a coffee to fuel another gruelling day of High Culture!! The cost was €11. A big steep but as Woodsie said, "We are paying for the atmosphere."
For lunch, we ordered a croissant, salmon bagel and two fresh orange juices. Remember, we are inside an art gallery where prices tend, at least in Australia, to be way higher. The total? Only €13. Made the two coffees seem even more expensive!!!
Wednesday, 1 August 2012
Just Strollin' Along
Again in the evening, we went strolling around our area. The delayed summer sunset and warm evening makes it a perfect time to walk around and look at all the vibrancy of life here.
I love seeing a lit window on the upper floors. From across the road I can peep into Parisienne life, after seeing quite a few apartments in French movies. One had open generous swag drapes and a chandelier was lighting the room.
We again saw so many small bars and restaurants, all doing brisk business. People were everywhere.
I bought ice creams in one tiny shop. Did they have a speedy operation in action! The cash register girl took your order of size and type you wanted, you paid, she handed you a receipt, then you moved along. 4 or 5 girls, not lethargic teenagers, bustling young women, took your receipt, looking at it grabbed the cup or cone you wanted, then asked what flavours you wanted. It was an efficient operation.
The question is that: will I ever tire of pistachio ? So far, the answer is NO!!!
I love seeing a lit window on the upper floors. From across the road I can peep into Parisienne life, after seeing quite a few apartments in French movies. One had open generous swag drapes and a chandelier was lighting the room.
We again saw so many small bars and restaurants, all doing brisk business. People were everywhere.
I bought ice creams in one tiny shop. Did they have a speedy operation in action! The cash register girl took your order of size and type you wanted, you paid, she handed you a receipt, then you moved along. 4 or 5 girls, not lethargic teenagers, bustling young women, took your receipt, looking at it grabbed the cup or cone you wanted, then asked what flavours you wanted. It was an efficient operation.
The question is that: will I ever tire of pistachio ? So far, the answer is NO!!!
Loo-vre Finale
I am blaming gremlins for the weird ending of last post.
Sorry.
After the Louvre we sauntered along to Musee d'Orsay and looked there. Seeing so many famous names it is hard not to become blaise.
Again in the evening, another balmy evening, we strolled around the streets and ingested ice cream.
And tomorrow we do it all again. Who said travel was a holiday?
Sorry.
After the Louvre we sauntered along to Musee d'Orsay and looked there. Seeing so many famous names it is hard not to become blaise.
Again in the evening, another balmy evening, we strolled around the streets and ingested ice cream.
And tomorrow we do it all again. Who said travel was a holiday?
Loo-vre
I shouldn't be surprised. It is the Louvre, after all. Just before we left, after wandering around for about six hours, I decided to "spend a penny" (or in this case €1:50).
On entering, one wall had a colourful art installation ... rows and rows of brightly coloured toilet rolls. As each 'client' exits the cubicle, an attendant wipes the door handle outside and inside, then disappears in briefly, before emerging to beckon the next user.
At least it was a woman. In Berlin, twice I encountered MALE attendants. The first time, as I was heading to the hand basins, I saw him and gasped, "Am I in the wrong one?". The second time I still got an initial shock, but didn't blurt anything!
At the Louvre, my cubicle had bamboo wall paper, a bright blue lid, and above, behind glass, various objects related to "the bathroom" all in the colour theme bright lime green. I manage to peep into another cubicle. The bamboo wallpaper was replaced by a padded, studded look in pink, with the display behind the glass in ...what else but pink. The hand basin area was not large and patronage was brisk so, whilst I really wanted to, I could not linger to check out any other cubicles.
All these coloured objects, including toilet paper in a multitude of colours, was available for sale at the entrance area.
The Louvre is a short walk from where we are staying. We crossed the River Sienne at Pont de Art, which glistened brightly in the morning light. It was the sun reflecting off hundreds and hundred of small padlocks, attached to the wire mesh barrier, each with two names or initials on them.
There was a large queue at the famous glass pyramid, but thanks to Woodsie's research before the
trip, we could bypass them and enter immediately, with our Paris Museum Pass.
Not only are the various collections here amazing, the entire building complex is almost overwhelming in size and grandeur. You need a map to navigate about, as with four floors and
several wings, it is too vast to see everything, so we chose to be selective.
First was "Mona Lisa". I don't care what anyone says, clapping eyes on this mysterious woman for a
second time in my life is amazing. Next we searched for another woman, Madame Vigee-Le Brun. Years ago, in my teens, I purchased a framed print of this painting from R. L. Gibbons, a furniture
and floor coverings shop where my Dad worked. It cost $25:00, an enormous amount to me. But I
loved the image of a woman whose arms are wrapped around her daughter, both staring out at the
viewer.
On my last visit here, I saw MY PRINT on a postcard as we left. I was too foot sore and weary to
seek out the original. Reason would suggest I had copied the details before our trip. Nope! I had a
rough idea of when it was painted.
However, the Louvre has collections of French, Italian, Spanish etc. Robert wandered patiently around with me, when we saw a small Souvenior Stand. I found the postcard, which had details on
the back. As I stood waiting to pay, I glanced into the next gallery - Spanish paintings - AND
THERE SHE WAS. She is about the same size as my print.
It is a self portrait of the artist with her daughter. Madame Vigee-Le Brun et sa fille, Jeanne-
Louise, dite Julie, painted by Elizabeth-Louise Vigee-Le Brun. Seeing this gave me a great buzz than revisiting M L.
My two main aims achieved, we were free to wander about.
Two other pieces I set out to find were 'The Lace Maker' by Vermeer and two Michelangelo sculptures - Captive.
For lunch we found a food area and could sit out on a balcony, right beside a row of sculptured life sized figured that often line the tops of such important buildings. The food was tasty, the view was
wonderful, the service was commendable ... But best of all was just the chance to sit down a while
I later took a photo of Woodsie pointing to where we had enjoyed lunch:
On entering, one wall had a colourful art installation ... rows and rows of brightly coloured toilet rolls. As each 'client' exits the cubicle, an attendant wipes the door handle outside and inside, then disappears in briefly, before emerging to beckon the next user.
At least it was a woman. In Berlin, twice I encountered MALE attendants. The first time, as I was heading to the hand basins, I saw him and gasped, "Am I in the wrong one?". The second time I still got an initial shock, but didn't blurt anything!
At the Louvre, my cubicle had bamboo wall paper, a bright blue lid, and above, behind glass, various objects related to "the bathroom" all in the colour theme bright lime green. I manage to peep into another cubicle. The bamboo wallpaper was replaced by a padded, studded look in pink, with the display behind the glass in ...what else but pink. The hand basin area was not large and patronage was brisk so, whilst I really wanted to, I could not linger to check out any other cubicles.
All these coloured objects, including toilet paper in a multitude of colours, was available for sale at the entrance area.
The Louvre is a short walk from where we are staying. We crossed the River Sienne at Pont de Art, which glistened brightly in the morning light. It was the sun reflecting off hundreds and hundred of small padlocks, attached to the wire mesh barrier, each with two names or initials on them.
There was a large queue at the famous glass pyramid, but thanks to Woodsie's research before the
trip, we could bypass them and enter immediately, with our Paris Museum Pass.
Not only are the various collections here amazing, the entire building complex is almost overwhelming in size and grandeur. You need a map to navigate about, as with four floors and
several wings, it is too vast to see everything, so we chose to be selective.
First was "Mona Lisa". I don't care what anyone says, clapping eyes on this mysterious woman for a
second time in my life is amazing. Next we searched for another woman, Madame Vigee-Le Brun. Years ago, in my teens, I purchased a framed print of this painting from R. L. Gibbons, a furniture
and floor coverings shop where my Dad worked. It cost $25:00, an enormous amount to me. But I
loved the image of a woman whose arms are wrapped around her daughter, both staring out at the
viewer.
On my last visit here, I saw MY PRINT on a postcard as we left. I was too foot sore and weary to
seek out the original. Reason would suggest I had copied the details before our trip. Nope! I had a
rough idea of when it was painted.
However, the Louvre has collections of French, Italian, Spanish etc. Robert wandered patiently around with me, when we saw a small Souvenior Stand. I found the postcard, which had details on
the back. As I stood waiting to pay, I glanced into the next gallery - Spanish paintings - AND
THERE SHE WAS. She is about the same size as my print.
It is a self portrait of the artist with her daughter. Madame Vigee-Le Brun et sa fille, Jeanne-
Louise, dite Julie, painted by Elizabeth-Louise Vigee-Le Brun. Seeing this gave me a great buzz than revisiting M L.
My two main aims achieved, we were free to wander about.
Two other pieces I set out to find were 'The Lace Maker' by Vermeer and two Michelangelo sculptures - Captive.
For lunch we found a food area and could sit out on a balcony, right beside a row of sculptured life sized figured that often line the tops of such important buildings. The food was tasty, the view was
wonderful, the service was commendable ... But best of all was just the chance to sit down a while
I later took a photo of Woodsie pointing to where we had enjoyed lunch:
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