CHASING PAINT

travel light, pay attention

Paris Itinerary & Apps

by Leave a Comment

My itinerary for three weeks in Paris is done. Museums, street markets, churches, parks, and pâtisseries; color-coded, rain/shine options, and custom Google-mapped.

I’d have four weeks done if I wasn’t so distracted by the Louvre’s website. http://musee.louvre.fr/oal/scribe/indexEN.html. Checking out  A Closer Look (videos of a specific work discussed in  a historical and artistic context) and the various Louvre Trails  (themed ninety minute audio tours) was fascinating. I selected a few Trails (Mighty Aphrodite, Alexander the Great, Lion Hunt, In Search Of Ideal Beauty) to plug in, though I reserve the right to turn left into any open door.

On days the street markets are open, I added churches and parks that are nearby. Street markets and parks are fair weather options only. It can be chilly,  but not wet or bitter cold – that’s under 45 degrees for this southern woman.

My detailed agenda is not set in stone. It’s not a schedule, it’s more like a list of tempting possibilities I can follow or ignore, depending upon my whim. That’s one of the beauties of solo travel. You can pick up the pace or slack off at will. In a city like Paris, where there are more wonderful things to do than there are hours in the day, my itinerary serves more as a filter than a must see/do list.

Now, about apps. Tripadvisor’s City Guides app https://itunes.apple.com/us/app/tripadvisor-offline-city-guides/id480066121?mt=8 is free, has a great make your own map option and directions that guide you from where your feet are to the venue, plus those helpful crowd-sourced ratings. And it’s free. Love me some free.

Uber  https://www.uber.com/https://www.uber.com/ will get a work out, unless the Parisian cabbies manage to ban it between now and when I arrive. Fly Delta http://www.delta.com/content/www/en_US/mobile.html  because when you need flight info, you really need it.

I have two food centric apps, because who doesn’t need high quality caffeine and sugar?  Paris Pastry  http://www.davidlebovitz.com/2011/11/paris-pastry-app/  is curated by pastry chef David Lebovitz, and Paris Cafes https://itunes.apple.com/us/app/paris-cafes/id441859940?mt=8  is very Yelp-esque.

A Paris Metro app will come in handy, and the filter in the Ulmon Paris http://www.ulmon.com/ will obligingly show you the location of everything from monuments to pharmacies.

I’m going to try out the Cities Talking tour http://www.citiestalking.com/cities/paris/, as I have always loved the Venice/Rome/Paris Walks audio guides by Sonia Landes. I’d rather listen and look around than squint at a book while I stumble down the street.  Rick Steves Audio Europe, http://www.ricksteves.com/watch-read-listen/audio/audio-europe makes the cut for his reliable, salt of the earth perspective.

I downloaded all three of the official Louvre guides to the museum, http://www.louvre.fr/en/louvre-audio-guide-app though I will probably also rent an audio guide there. And of the four translation apps I checked out, I like Google Translate best https://itunes.apple.com/us/app/google-translate/id414706506?mt=8 It has worked reliably, will say your phrase in mellifluous tones, and show it on screen, bumped up to large font, if need be.

 

 

 

 

Paris Plan, Week One

by Leave a Comment

I’ve finished the overall plan.  The main doc looks like a month-at-a-glance calendar, with short color-coded notes on where and when to go. Individual docs cover each week with more detailed information.

Let’s  break it down.

Week One

Tuesday evening: 1  April Fools Day – After checking one bag,  I’ll board Air France with a small carryon packed with a change of clothes, all my electronics, and a few toiletries – most important,  a soft padded eyeshade and Boules Quies wax earplugs http://www.quies.com/produit/wax-earplugs/. In a perfect world, I’d snore my way across the Atlantic. More likely I’ll doze in and out a few hours, feeling battered by the rumble and roar of the engines. It’s an 8 and a half hour flight. The first five aren’t so bad, but the last three feel interminable. Add to that the sleepless overnight factor and it’s a grim prospect.  Over the years it’s become more of a challenge, and that’s why I go for a chunk of time.

Wednesday 2 – Staggering off the plane at midday, with gritty eyes and rumpled clothes, I’ll be met by the pre-arranged driver at récupération des bagages and taken to the apartment that will be my home for the next three weeks. Three floors up and no elevator (take that, macaroons!).  I’ll drop off my bags, make sure the plumbing functions, and head out in search of an ATM. I’ll stroll around the neighborhood, noting where I can find bread, fruit, cheese and milk. Perhaps a coffee, definitely a pastry. If the weather is pretty, I’ll meander over to the Seine. Mostly I will take it easy. Early to bed.

Thursday 3 –  Skip out the door to stand at the counter of a café and wolf down a croissant and café creme. Depending on the weather,  I’ll either Uber over or take the Metro to the Louvre. I joined des Amis de Louvre last June and membership entitles me to free access to the museum.  I’ll wave my card, scamper in the Richelieu entrance, check my coat and dive in.  The first destination on  my dance card – the Dutch, German and Flemish painters. Hours of staring and sketching and sighing with pleasure. Lunch at a museum café/restaurant TBD. Afterward, a peek at the apartments of Napoleon III, then follow one of the Louvres museum trails via an app on my iPhone or the museum’s audio tour. I’m thinking The Art of Eating, Rituals and Symbolism. http://www.louvre.fr/en/routes/art-eating  By 4pm I will be dizzy with jetlag/fatigue and ready to trudge back to the apartment, picking up my dinner from a stops at a boulangerie, fromager and charcuturie en route.

Friday 4 – If I manage to sleep in – unlikely, but possible – and the weather is mild and fair, I’ll explore the Marais, my neighborhood, with the audio tour Walk and Talk Paris . I’ll stop for lunch at one of the multiple possibilities I’ve saved on my TripAdvisor map. app. http://www.tripadvisor.com/apps-icityguides  and then  try for a big fat nap. My experience in the MFA in Boston taught me that my eyes will give out – feel burry, gritty, dry and weak – by 8pm if I  stalk the museum halls all day. Thus the long nap. The Louvre is open until 9:45 tonight, so  I’ll drift over around 4pm and do the Still Life audio tour, then eat dinner in the museum.  Afterwards I’ll follow the Italian Renaissance audio tour. I think it’s my best shot to see the Italian works in the Denon wing without being crushed underfoot by the throngs of determinded tourists making a beeline for the Mona Lisa.

Saturday  5 – FIguring the Louvre will be jam-packed on the weekend, I have alternative plans. First, browsing at a street market, the Marche Bastille (Boulevard Richard-Lenoir, 9-6, arts & crafts), around the corner from my apartment. If the weather is fine I’ll go there first. If it’s foul I’ll go straight to  The Musée de la Chasse et de la Nature (open 11-6) http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mus%C3%A9e_de_la_Chasse_et_de_la_Nature.  A museum that ‘celebrates the relationships between humans and the natural environment through the traditions and practices of hunting’.  I’m paintings a series with similar elements (Catch & Release series)  and I’m curious to see how other artists have approached this material.

Sunday 6 – By now I should have my feet under me. So, if it rains, I’ll go to the Musée Carnavalet (23 rue de Sévigné, 10-6) http://www.carnavalet.paris.fr/en/homepage  which “tells the story of Paris from a bygone era (a prehistoric dugout canoe dating from 4600 BC) to the present day, in all its immense variety…in keeping with the spirit of the genius of Paris.” It will be a pleasure to visit a compact, curated museum after walking miles in the stone and marble halls of the Louvre.  If it’s a pretty day, I’ll do a couple of the Walk and Talk Paris audio guides: La Huchette and St Julien le Pauvre. If my stamina and the weather holds out, I’ll walk to the Pont Alexandre III at sunset. (8:30pm)  and watch the lights turn on each of the bridges in succession, until the Eiffel tower lights up. Pow!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Paris Rig

by Leave a Comment

Went out to dinner with my darling spouse, son, and his current squeeze. Asked Robert to take a photo of me since I was wearing my prototypical Paris rig – black jeans, black & white patterned shirt and scarf, black hoodie and my new Chucks. I forgot to take out my earbuds, but I’ll be wearing them most of time, so it’s authentic.

Va Paris rig
The only thing missing is my little backpack. What you can’t see is that my socks are crazy – they will be my blink of color. In this instance they are still b&w but they have cavalier spaniels on them.
Et voila

Packing, Paris-style

by Leave a Comment

First, make a list.

I do a Word doc, make two columns, and divvy it up into four categories – the clothes I’ll wear on the plane, what goes in my daypack (or tote), what gets stowed in my carry-on, and the main luggage. The day before the flight, I’ll assemble everything on the dining room table and cross off each item as I pack. It saves me hours of ‘did I remember this? Did I forget that?’ Anxiety I do not need.

This is the winter/spring version – mostly layering options. The only difference between this and packing for Chicago at Christmas is some short sleeves tees (instead of all long sleeves), the cotton/synthetic Chico pants options and how many eyedrops I’m adding. My winter coat is impervious to cold and I figure leggings can double as thermal underwear if it’s in raining and in the thirties/forties – or the Louvre turns out to be frigid – or I can sashay around in cotton cargos and short sleeves if the weather leaps into the seventies. If it’s in the fifties/sixties, I can layer a short sleeve tee over long sleeve, add the hoodie and vest, mittens and hat, wrap the black pashmina around me and go anywhere.

For clothes, use a simple, color-coordinated scheme that doesn’t show dirt. Paris is easy –  black and white with, in honor of Funny Face’s Kay Thomson, a few Schiaparelli pink accents.

My philosophy is If I can’t do without it, find a way to squeeze it in. if I might use it, leave it behind. I am more concerned with over-packing than under-packing.  If there is something I need that I did not pack, tant pis, mes amis.  I’ve heard they sell clothes in Paris.

I always read a People magazine in the airport.  Dr Paul Farmer, infectious diseases expert and medical anthropologist, calls it the Journal of Popular Culture. It reminds me of transient nature of life, and not to take things too seriously. Earplugs save the day when those ubiquitous people with cell yell are sitting near me, or a baby on board the plane is having a rough trip. My iPod, ditto. And I prefer to read rather than watch movies on board, so my Nook won’t leave my hands.

Here’s le Paris list:
PARIS/ADAM SUITCASE
Wear
Chico black zipper/pocket pants,
black suede Merrell clogs,
long sleeve black shirt
black bra
gray winter coat
dot scarf
black pashmina wrap
black cashmere cloche
black knit mittens
Money belt with passport, driver’s license, health insurance info charge cards, cash
daypack
with earplugs, eyedrops,
Altoids tin for walking around money and change
toothbrush/paste
restasis eyedrops
Bion tears
People mag
B&W Nook glow
iphone
boarding pass
ipod
Small empty plastic water bottle,
pens, small notebook
lip balm
makeup – blush, erase, lipstick/balm, compact
Carryon suitcase
1 pair gray denim pants (+ 1 pr legging)
1 pink & black stripe l/s shirt
1 pair pink dot socks
Chucks
2 pairs panties
Pink hoodie
crochet hook, circle needles, black cashmere yarn
Small sketchbook + pencils
Ziplock quart
1 extra pr black frame eye glasses
eyemask
Aspirin, floss
watch
Meds: HRT, statins, Restasis, Bion tears x 10
ELECTRONICS (oy! who knew I’d be so wired-up?)
Mac air & Charger
Nook & charger
battery pack & phone charger
camera & charger
ipods & charger
MAIN SUITCASE
clothes
lace up shoes (Cole Hann woven leather/black patent accents and NIke soles)
Black Zala hoodie
Black vest with faux fur trim
Leopard mittens
3 pairs trousers – black sueded denim, gray peg jeans, Chico cotton zip cargo pcket
1 black legging
4 l/s shirts – b&w stripe, black spot, 1 black, 1 pink/b
5 s/s tee shirts – b&w stripe, b&w dot, black, pink, band
3 prs winter socks gray
6 pr spot/stripe
10+ pairs panties Blk, beige, pink
1 pink dot bra
large white sleep tee
other
dot collapsible mini-umbrella
wolfie knit hat
gray mittens
Trip folder
Sketchbook bag and sketch books – 2 small 1 large
pencil cases x3
Hairbrush
Nylon collapsible Getty bag
3 bags Orange spice tea/mint tea, splenda
Dreft in zip locks x 4
plug strip box, French plug adapter
hair flat iron
Bion Tears x 30
Ziplocks, Bulldog clips, carabiners
ditty bag
safety pins, rubber bands
comb, brush, hairband
deodorant, mini bar soap, face mitt
nail clippers, hair scissors,
Mini-magnifying mirror bandaids, moleskin

What She Carries

by 3 Comments

How to amble around as hands-free as possible, with everything I need for the day easy to reach and securely stowed away.IMG_6935

Counter-clockwise, from 11 o’clock

A Longchamps daypack. It’s backpack in style, but much smaller. In it goes my sketchbook, pencil case, half bottle of water, paper map, colored marker, perhaps a few postcards. Ziplocks for walking around snacks of the fruit/cheese/croissant variety, an Ereader, pocket Kleenex  for the inevitable underserviced bathroom stalls, a nylon shopping bag that stuffs into its own pouch the size of an apple. No money. So far, no one has ever wanted to filch my sketchbook or water.  A small carabiner is clipped to the strap. If I buy something too large to carry in the daypack, I can clip the shopping bag handles to the back strap of the daypack. The backpack can be pulled it around  to my front for those tricky Metro rides, or slung tightly under my arm in museums where backpacks of any size are forbidden.

Around my waist  and under my jeans is a money belt. Two zippered pockets divided by mesh. Soft, flexible, reasonably comfortable, and most importantly,  in fifteen years of international travel, unbreached by thieves. Contains passport, credit cards and cash. This year I’m trying out a clip-on pocket the size of a credit card and zippered.

Another addition this year is a sturdy, lightweight, waterproof bag for a larger sketchbook and pencils, something I’ll take to parks. It has a long strap I’ll wear slung across my chest, so the bag is at hip level.

Pockets are indispensable to me. So many advantages! Pockets are handy, within easy reach. You don’t leave them behind on a table or hang them over the back of your chair, an unintentional offering to the poor and temptation to the weak. The small size of a pocket limit curbs the urge to carry around more than you absolutely need.

Pant’s pockets.

Right side: iPhone. Mine is in a Mophie case, which is great for extending battery life. From what I’ve read about pickpockets and snatch and grab, I’ll stay way from the doors of the metro, and never put it on a table. I’m going to try to limit my phone use to secure locations, versus bumbling down the streets with my nose in a text. If I need directions over and above my paper map, I’ll leave the phone in my pocket and let Google maps talk to me through my earbud. On the edge of the right pocket I clip my iPod. Don’t judge.  Music got me up and down many a hilly street of Edinburgh at the end of a long,hard day of touristing.

Left side: Altoid tin, with change, and walking around cash that’s folded up and clipped with a large paperclip. Oddly enough, no one has ever stolen my mints. That’s where I stash my metro cards too.

 Hoodie/ jacket/coat pocket

Right side: a petite Sony rx100 digital camera. Instead of a traditional strap mine has a sturdy elastic cord long enough to reach my pocket without tugging on my neck.  Again – I can’t leave it behind or, as has happened, drop it on the stone floor of a Venetian palazzo.

Left side: a couple of sticks of lip balm, and folded paper map from a master map I’ve made numerous enlarged copies of at Kinkos.  It has everything I’ve researched added by hand– the museums, shops, bistros, and markets. At the end of a day, I mark off where I’ve been in yellow highlighter and add notes (yarn shops, boulangeries, art supply stores,  etc).

Paris, Week Two

by Leave a Comment

By now, I will be over jet lag and possibly grappling with surviving a surfeit of beauty and inspiration. “Stendhal’s syndrome is a psychosomatic disorder that causes rapid heartbeat, dizziness, fainting, and confusion …when an individual is exposed to an experience of great personal significance, particularly viewing art.“ Appropriately named after the epnoymous French writer who fainted when overcome by his contemplation of sublime beauty in Florence.  As long as I am not actually swooning, I’m good.

Monday, April 7: This is my day to buy a carnet of 10 tickets from the closest Tabac or metro station (usable on the métro and buses). It’s good for seven days, and the meter starts running on Monday.  I liked using the bus in London for the views of the city, as it lumbered from point A to point B. The online site that helped you plan your trip was so clear and specific that I had no difficulty finding my way.  Guided by the experts on Tripadviser, I downloaded the free Visit Paris by Metro app, the official application of the RATP. Online here – ratp.fr/itineraires/en/ratp/recherche-avancee. 

I’ll figure out a go-to public transportation route from my door to the Louvre, unless it’s raining, in which case I’m calling Uber. Fortified with a café creme and a croissant, I’m off to the Louvre to explore the Salle des Caryatides, the reception rooms of  Anne of Austria  and bedrooms of Louis XIII in the Egyptian antiquities gallery. I’ve penciled in a walk through the Medieval section before I follow the Louvre trail for European Renaissance. It will be a full day. I have an interesting audiobook on the renaissance period on my iPod, which will make a good companion. Lunch in the museum, dinner picked up at the shops on the way back home, and feet up.

Tuesday, 8: The Louvre is closed. If the weather is fair, I’m heading to the Luxembourg garden to walk and sketch, soak in daylight and sticky little green leaves of spring.  If not, I’ll visit Saint-Sulpice church. At the time of the Revolution Saint-Sulpice ditched the Judeo-Christian God for a Supreme Being. Look for a printed sign over the center door of the main entrance that reads ‘’Le Peuple Francais Reconnoit L’Etre Suprême Et L’Immortalité de L’Âme’’ (“The French people recognize the Supreme Being and the immortality of the soul”). Both Baudelaire and the Marquis de Sade were baptized here, suggesting the Supreme Being is pretty laissez faire.  I’ll find the two Delacroix murals and soak in their glory. Around lunch time, I’ll look for cafés or bistro on the Rue Bonaparte that leads off the square. I bought a necklace and ring on this very street in 1971 that I still wear today. I doubt the shop is in existence, but it will do no harm to look.  On the way home, I’ll stop in the Village Voice bookshop on Rue Princesse for a browse.

Wednesday, 8: By now the spell has been cast and my ideas of what I thought I wanted to see in the Louvre may have become irrelevant. Nevertheless, it’s good to have a plan A. Mine is to follow the Louvre trail of The Great Goddess,  and then pause for lunch and a L’Africain hot chocolate at the Le Café Richelieu. Afterwards,  spend some quality time on the second floor of the Richelieu wing with the monumental works by Rubens commissioned by Marie de Medici and then resume flitting around, following the audio guide for the Louvre trail of The Lion Hunt.  Alternatively, if the day is pretty, after lunch I’ll wander out into the Jardin de Tuilleries, take a look inside the Musée de l’Orangerie.

Thursday, 10: Today I am going to the Musée D’Orsay. I have my e-ticket, purchased online. It’s open until 9:45 today, and my strategy is to go in the late afternoon, when the crowds have thinned and stay until the moon is rising.  To that end, I’ll sleep in as late as I can, then take care of a few domestic chores. By now, it’s time to do laundry. I’ll be hanging it up on folding racks in the studio apartment to dry. If the weather cooperates, I’ll do the Walk & Talk Paris tour of les Marais, an area known for its charm and little shops. After a bit of window shopping I’ll dine at Le Gorilla Blanc, 4, Impasse Guemenee or  Ma Bourgogne,19, place des Vosges. Then back to my apartment for a big fat nap before I head over to the Musée D’Orsay around 4.  Eat in the museum restaurant  M‘O at 7-ish, and back out to feast on the art. See the Degas pastel room. View the Renoir on one side, the Monet on the other, and watch the the Eiffel tower light up straight through the window.  Think how lucky I am to be in Paris. I’ll leave when guards herd me to the door at 9:30 or when my eyes give out, whichever comes first and call Uber for a swift and secure ride back to my apartment.

Friday, 11: Back to the Louvre. It’s open late today too, but doubt I will do back-to-back late nights. I am an earlybird by custom and inclination. Today’s Louvre trail is In Search of Ideal Beauty. My feminist sensibilities bristle, but my artist is curious.  After lunch, this time in the Louvre’s  Café Marly, I will do the Sculptures Louvre trail and sketch – something about marble pulls me to do that.  I’ll leave by mid-afternoon and walk back, along the Seine. I’ll pick up a simple dinner from the shops.

Saturday, 12: Hoping for sunny weather because I want to explore the outdoor market Marché aux puces de la Porte de Vanves, open from 7am-2pm on Avenue Marc Sangnier.  After browsing and dining nearby, I’ll pop into the Musée Delacroix, situated in a courtyard with a garden, 6 rue de Furstenburg, open 9:30-5. The artist’s memorabilia, sketches, drawings, are of interest but it’s his studio that I want to see. If the weather is not too frigid and my stamina holds up, I’ll walk to the nearest Pont at 8:30 and watch all the bridges and the Tour Eiffel light up in succession.

 Sunday, 13:  Good weather and I’m heading to Parc Monceau, 35 Boulevard de Courcelles. Cold or raining, and I have my choice of three small museums. Musée Nissim de Camondo 63 Rue de Monceau, 10 -5:30,  would be new for me. collection of eighteenth-century French furniture and art, including portraits by Élisabeth-Louise Vigée Le Brun, landscapes by Guardi and Hubert Robert and hunting scenes by Jean-Baptiste Oudry. Musée Jacquemart-André 158, Blvd Haussmann  I have seen before, but it is so exquisite it would be a pleasure to revisit. Musée National Gustave Moreau, 14 Rue de la Rochefoucauld, is another combination of an artist’s home, and his atelier.

 

Paris, Week Three

by Leave a Comment

This is my final week in Paris, culminating in Easter Sunday and a flight to Amsterdam and the Rijksmuseum.

Monday, 14: Time to get another Metro card, then back to embrace the Louvre. I’ll be missing Robert in a major way, so today I’ll follow Mighty Aphrodite, and the Alexander the Great trail, my nod to love and to a great man. After lunch, I’ll spend quality time with the Greek and Roman statuary, giving myself all the time I want to to sit and sketch. Love to draw those Herculean torsos and the svelte charms of Venus, of course, but I expect to find a few surprises. By now,  I will have favorite cafes and restaurant, boulangeries and patisseries. It is my duty to compare éclairs, lemon tarts, and macaroons, and discover new cheeses. I’ll be working on it.

Tuesday, 15: The Louvre is closed and I’ve made a note to revisit my favorite places or those that got dropped or set aside for whatever reason. From my long ago sojourn in Paris I remember going to Fauchon to buy pastry and clay teapots. If the weather is pretty I’ll try for the Luxembourg garden and lunch at La Bastide Odeon 7 rue de Corneille, a friend’s favorite spot.  If not, it’s a great day to visit the exquisite Musée Jacquemart-André.

Wednesday, 16: The Louvre is open until 9:45. If my late night visit the first week was magical, or I didn’t manage to stay up that late, I’ll do it today.  Otherwise I’ll be wandering in the rooms I’ve not yet seen, perhaps following the European Renaissance trail or Love in the Louvre. The Masterworks audio tour is one I’ve been saving until now. Sometimes I eavesdrop on the fringes of a guided tour, but never too long. Groups seldom spend as long looking as they do listening, and I’m here to see.

Thursday, 17: Hoping for another morning of street market shopping. It’s more of a pastime than a sport for me, but fun to browse, money carefully zipped away. Pickpockets are rampant whenever tourists are distracted.  Arts and Crafts themed market, Marche Bastille Boulevard Richard-Lenoir, is open 7am-2:30pm today, and again on Sat. 9am-6pm and Sun. 7am-3pm. It will really depend on the weather. If I loved the Musée D’Orsay, today is the day I’ll return.

Friday, 18: My last day at the Louvre. I’ll just follow my nose, and revisit those works that charmed, disturbed or entranced me. A day of farewells. I’ll start my laundry today, since everything has to be dry before I get on the plane Sunday.

Saturday 19: Last day in Paris, and another day reserved to revisit favorite Paris places. Perhaps seek out an art supply store or a knitting shop, definitely a favorite patisserie. If possible, I will realize my desire to walk across a  bridge on a foggy morning.  Maybe return to the Marche Bastille Boulevard Richard-Lenoir. At the end of the day, I will pack my bags and prepare to depart for the airport tomorrow

Sunday, 20: It’s Easter Sunday. The bells will ring me out. I’ll call Uber and head to CDG airport, and my flight to Amsterdam, and the glorious Rjiksmuseum.  Adieu Paris. Ètre courageux et beau.

Packing; Before

by Leave a Comment

Robert and I are taking Robin out for a dinner tonight that’s an adieu et bon voyage to me and an early heureux 28e anniversaire to Robin. She is coming over to help me pack this afternoon. She worked at Old Navy during her college years and is an Olympic champion folder.pack before

Here’s  everything spread out on the table. The chairs behind,  from left to right –  what I’m wearing on the plane, the empty suitcase,  and the empty carry on. On the front right of the table, under the sketchbook is the outfit change for the carry on and behind it all the clothes for the trip. The rest is my trip folder, toiletries, and my homesick remedies –  oatmeal and peppermint tea. Don’t Judge.

I am down to the wire now, and the daily, detailed plans for all three weeks in Paris are done and dusted. I’m much less concerned about the ten days in Amsterdam. I think I have put so much into researching Paris because It’s the opposite of London, a city  I lived in for five years and formed such a strong emotional attachment to. Who knows, maybe it will turn out to be a better journey, since I am not à la recherche du temps perdu.

Yesterday I ran into a thicket of technical problems with my MacAir, so I am off to the Genius Bar today. It’s nothing that would preclude me using the light weight laptop, but irritating enough for me to finally do something about.

Last night I jumped into my B&N archive and selected several a couple of dozen of my favorite books to download to my Nook. Just to unnerve me I’m sure, my Nook choked, and kept telling me it wasn’t connected to the Internet, though it most certainly was.

After I performed electronic CPR (turned them off and on again), I resigned myself to trudging down to the B&N store for assistance today, since nothing good comes of wrestling with electronic malfeasance after 10pm.  When I woke up, the glitch was gone. While I slept the IT fairy tapped the Nook and all was well. I had downloaded the Nook Mac app so I can read on my laptop should my Nook go south or be stolen, so maybe that was it. I am apparently addicted to my Nook. There, I said it.

Day one, April 2

by Leave a Comment

Been finding my feet in the City of Light. I’ll start catching up now. It will still be on a day or two of delay since I’d like  to think about my experiences, not just report them.

Atlanta’s new international terminal is sleek and squeaky clean, with acres of polished marble and pristine glass. At 6pm it was also mostly empty, a plus for me. When the time came to board, I was surprised at the atmosphere of intense competition and animosity. The seats are assigned, right?  Despite the billion prior announcements that passengers are to board in the zone order assigned, there were any number of scofflaws who argued this point, and elderly people throwing elbows and glaring at the families with infants who dared to precede them. One man complained bitterly when a woman who must have been eighty kept trying to cut in.   It was more of a hostile mob than a line. And, as I mentioned, the seats are going to be there. Why the rushing and shoving? For the limited space in overhead bins?

Landed groggy but chipper and trotted through Orly terminal halls lined with excellent enlarged early photographs  (acrobats in motion). I glided through customs and spent my brief wait time in baggage claim trying to get my phone to work. It took awhile, but Verizon and the iPhone came through.  The driver held up my name scribbled on a piece of paper. He drove a very nice town car that wafted the faint odor of expensive men’s cologne and eau de new car.  It smelled like business class. Freeways congested with traffic are dishearteningly alike everywhere, so I will draw a veil over that.

The Marais district was obvious from the foot traffic, and the architecture that combined charm and grandeur. The driver pulled up alongside my concierge and I popped out. I got an instant orientation lesson. “That way,” Matthias said, pointing left, “is the river. You see that building that looks like it is at the end of the street? It is on the other side of the river. The other way is our main street.  It has everything you could desire.  Groceries, pastries, ATM.” He insisted on carrying my luggage and I gratefully let him. Through a wooden door so heavy I have to use both arms and shove with my hip. Down a narrow stone and tile corridor with other ancient doors and wrought iron bannisters branching off of it into a bright, bare stone courtyard. Through an open glass door on the far left, up two flights of narrow, worn wooden steps et voila, I am in my home for the next three weeks in Paris.

I thanked him, unpacked, and headed out on a quest for  milk/tea/sugar and cash. The streets were bustling. Not choked, but definitely thronging. Lots of people of every conceivable size, shape, race, and gender. Every last one of them well-dressed and brandishing an iPhone.

I brought the right clothes (insert sigh of relief). All the women are wearing a variation of leggings or tight, narrow-legged jeans. They all seem to wear scarves too. Lots of variation on the stylish shoe. Again , nine out of ten people on the street are on their phones. I had read I ought to leave mine in the bottom of my bag, but what’s the point? Every one has got one in hand as they walk, sit, stand, or pedal their bikes, and are they are all furiously talking or tapping away.

They are all moving fast and if any give gives me away, it’s that my eyes linger here and there. On the main street was everything, just as Mathais had said. I pulled out some cash from the ATM. No one jostled me or swarmed me or grabbed for my money or anything.  I bought staples in Monoprix and got an lovely brie and tomato baguette, and a slice of tarte tat in for my diner from the corner patisserie, Miss Manon.

I probably brought too many clothes, and I doubt I will ever wear my winter coat. It’s mid-seventies and I am comfortable in a long sleeve shirt, and too warm with the hoodie added. Can’t figure out how to get the induction cooktop to come on for the life of me, but I can work the microwave so it’s okay for now. Typing this in an effort to keep my eyes open until 7:30.

It’s very, very quiet in the back courtyard. Lucked out there.  Yawning and blinking Tomorrow, the Louvre.

 

 

Day two, April 3

by 1 Comment

I woke up several times in the night, people coming home at 1am are in a chatty mood apparently, but went back to sleep quickly. I got up at 7:30, dressed in my conquer Paris best, and ventured forth. The first person I saw, a young man leaving the building, glanced behind himself as he exited, saw me at the end of the long corridor and waited, holding the door for me. That turned out to be an omen.

I didn’t walk two blocks before I turned around and went back to ditch my light raincoat, gloves, and hat. Though the weather.com temperature was 56, it felt much warmer. At the wonderful boulangerie/patisserie on the corner, and I grabbed a noisette, (espresso with a tablespoon of steamed milk and a dot of foam), walked to the Metro, bought a ticket from the machine. It was happy to take my 5 euro note and give me a ticket and change. There was an Australian woman and a Japanese man at the machines beside me, and I felt right at home. Using my baby pigeon French, I asked the janitor which train to take and he directed me. Again, everyone on the train was on their iphone, except for one old woman reading a book. I turned on my iPod Paris mix and counted stations to the Louvre. Maybe six minutes. Everyone was clean and nicely dressed; scarves tied and draped with panache and jackets that fitted precisely. Lots of high-heeled boots and Converse sneakers in various colors. A few beautifully embellished ballet flats.

I jumped off at the Louvre to Pharell’s ‘Get Lucky,’ and metaphorically danced my way down the tunnel made from the walls of the moat. As I entered the Louvre, the playlist switched to ‘Happy’. Seriously. I had a big, stupid grin on my face. Walked past the long snaking line to a guard to ask where I should go, showing my Des Ami de Louvre card, and he pulled aside the barrier and waved me through. I was in a line of none. Joy! Walked to the security and they gestured me to the head of that line, then waved me through. Yes!

I headed like a homing pigeon to the Flemish and Dutch paintings on the second floor of the Richelieu wing. Didn’t make it past the escalator. Turned right into the vast, airy, light-filled  atrium  with sculpture on multiple levels. Started drawing this wonderful cast bronze nude man, and that was it for an hour or so. I noticed his hands, which appear bound, aren’t.  He’s holding the rope behind his back, it isn’t knotted or tied anywhere.

IMG_7147Afterward I headed on to the Northern painters. Ducked through a hall that turned out to be a darkened room lined with small portraits. Very Holbein-esque. Glorious frames and gorgeous detail. Time stopped again, and so did I. Finally got to the Netherlands and Germany rooms and I knew they would be good but it’s a banquet! A feast! It took me two hours to get through 21 rooms.  That may sound like a lot, but on the second floor of this Richelieu wing there are 116 rooms.

What does that mean for my daily plan? I started laughing around noon. It’s confetti, that’s what. All those – I’ll see the Dutch then go to the Napoleon apartments, then tour the Middle ages section blah blahblah.

Hahahahahahahaha.

Um, no. No, I won’t. If I get through the Dutch in two days, it will be a miracle. And I want to go back to see some of the pieces many times. There’s a Brueghal that has a teeming landscape filled with people I can barely see, they are so small – maybe the size of half of my little fingernail, but perfectly proportioned and exquisitely detailed. How did he do that? With a microscope?  And the subtle expressions on the portraits, and the freaking detail of embroidery and the luminosity of the skin. I’m dizzy with admiration and envy.

I tore myself away at noon because I’d skipped breakfast. Ate a Croque Monsieur – grilled ham and cheese dipped in egg and fried- with a side salad (15E), followed by a Viennese café; espresso covered in whipped cream (7E.) I showed my card thinking ya never know, and sure enough, got a price break. Remembered service was comprise, so no tip. It’s still pricey but well worth it. I particularly enjoyed  the view of the famous glass pyramid in the courtyard that came with my meal. Successfully ordered a carafe d’eau (free pitcher of water) and drank the whole thing. Back to the Flemish world and by 3:30 crossed over to the Dutch section to find it’s closed on Thursdays. A good thing, as by then, my feet hurt and I was flat worn out. I went back to the great sculpture hall. This time I sat behind the marble runner who brought word of the victory at marathon.  Drew until 4.

et out and walked to St. Sulpice. Saw many interesting shops en route. My favorite was a clock maker. I asked permission to take photos of his windows. He turned out to be a national treasure, an acknowleged master of the clockworkery with a certificate to that effect. I was mesmerized by the pieces and parts. We bonded over gears. Very tired by 6, so grabbed a taxi waiting at a stand. The driver had gray hair in a ponytail, was listening to Led Zeppelin, and introduced himself as a old hippie. He visited San Francisco in ’72, lived in the Haight, and was a follower of Jimi Hendrix. We had a grand time reminiscing – Country Joe and the Fish! Oui! Le Grace Slick! Oui! Grateful Dead! Bien sur!

I’m flat on my back on my comfortable queen bed, with the 15C beams overhead. Dinner was tomato and brie on Baguette, Earl Grey tea, and a warmed slice of tart tatin. I finally figured out how to make the weird induction cooktop work.

Here’s what happened today to belie the Parisians reputation for rudeness. 1. That guy who held the door for me 2. The janitor who pointed me in the right train direction. 3 A lady who caught my eye and to let me know my scarf was trailing on the ground. 4. The man who stopped his cell phone chat to give me directions to the right exit. 5. I did a spectacularly clumsy semi-fall, tripping over a low curb I failed to see, pinwheeling my arms and staggering, before breaking my fall by grabbing on the edge of a stone bench before I hit the stone walkway. I didn’t hurt myself, but two people who were briskly walking by stopped to make sure I was okay.

Figured out I need to carry my battery pack – my iphone was down to 13% by 3pm. Not nearly as paranoid about the scammers/beggars. No eye contact and purposeful walking does the trick. I’m using my backpack as a desk for my drawing instead of putting it down anywhere. This is not the Paris I dimly remember from 1971. This is the Paris of my dreams.

 

[easy-image-collage id=2199]