Paris to Avignon: 440 miles and 9 centuries in under 3 hours.

After a week in Paris, and with the CE threatening to purchase a beret, it was time to go.

One last lovely dinner at Le Grand Colbert (thanks to Marie-Christine for the recommendation!) which, we discovered, was featured in the film Something’s Gotta Give. As soon as I saw it I remembered the scene – Jack Nicholson gets shut out by Keanu Reeves for Diane Keaton’s affections. Not even a little bit believable, but fun!

I think they had to work very hard here to make everyone else as pale as Keanu. I still adore him, btw. (image from frenchgirlinseattle.blogspot.com)

I recognized it as soon as we walked in - of course, it helps that they have posters from the movie prominently displayed.

The CE said these were the best oysters he's ever tasted.

We packed (reluctantly) the next morning and set off for the train station. As I’ve shared before, even the mention of Penn Station can cause me to hyperventilate, so a trip to the Gare de Lyon with a non-English-speaking cab driver struck terror into my heart and caused the CE to recite all of the French invective he’d picked up from our experiences with impudent Parisian cab-drivers.

Lucky for us, a tall, calm, capable and, more importantly,  bi-lingual young man stood at the curb and offered to guide us. We might have been convinced to hand over both our first AND second-born sons to him, or at least to shake every Euro from our pockets in exchange for finding our way onto the TGV train to Avignon.

He parked us and our luggage beneath the huge sign that announces the tracks and told us he would return in twenty minutes. With every shudder of the sign, we saw our train number move closer to the top and if the CE had purchased that beret, he might well have been chewing it by that point. True to his word, however, our new friend returned, took us to Track #17, deposited our luggage in the bin and asked only for “whatever we wanted to give him” in payment. He was not disappointed with the largesse of our gratitude.

Less than three hours later, our snappy and luxurious TGV train deposited us in Avignon, where we had absolutely no clue what we would do. Our unspoken thought was “how could anyplace compare to Paris?” But we were enchanted at our first glimpse of the medieval wall that surrounds the ancient city and quickly left Paris and the 21st century behind.

An arch in the wall that surrounds the old city of Avignon. The wall was built by France's King Louis VIII in 1226.

The street just steps from our hotel.

There was a hush in the walled streets and a milky light falling on the cobblestones in the waning afternoon light. We couldn’t wait to discover our new old city!

A few centimes brought a smiling pose from this fellow.

Alas, Our Last Friday in Paris

We awoke Friday morning with the realization of how many steak frites, Croque Monsieurs, eclairs, Ile Flottantes, espressos and macarons remained in Paris despite our best efforts over the past week. (We made absolutely no dent in city’s supply of escargot, cervelle de veau and tripe – it’s all still there waiting for the rest of you!)

Rest assured - plenty of Tete de Veau in supply for your visit to France! (image from caveau-prevote.com)

And sights remained to be seen – we sadly scratched Notre Dame from our list since we had been there on our last trip. Montmartre and the Latin Quarter will have to wait until we visit again. But we still had one glorious day left in Paris and we set out to enjoy:

First order of business: a 25-year-later photo of the CE at the Pompidou Center

From the Centre Pompidou, we wandered through the streets of Le Marais, which is now one of our favorite neighborhoods of Paris. Soon, of course, it was time to eat, and cafes and brasseries are plentiful in that neighborhood.

We must keep the CE well-nourished so he has energy for writing his travel tips!

After lunch, we walked to the Place de Vosges, billed (correctly) as one of the most beautiful squares in the city. As a bonus, we were able to tour the Maison de Victor Hugo there. I believe he wrote Les Miserables while living in this home.

Our favorite room in Victor Hugo's home at the Place de Vosges

Next stop was the beautiful Jardin du Luxembourg:

The stately Luxembourg Palace

As we made our way back along Blvd. St-Germain-des-Pres, one of my “must-do’s” appeared right in front of us. Voila! We stopped for a cup of le chocolat chaud at Le Deux Magots cafe, made famous by its famous patrons, including Hemingway, Picasso, Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir.

A perfect end to our last afternoon in Paris…

Heavenly!

Rodin and Claudel: the sculptor, his muse and the Musee

Travel-wise we’ve moved well beyond, but I can’t seem to leave Paris behind. You understand, I’m sure.

After lunch on Thursday we ambled over to the Musee Rodin, which is just a stroll from the Invalides.

The CE in the garden at the Musee Rodin with his beloved Dome les Invalides in the background.

I wasn’t quite sure if the Musee Rodin was going to be a “must-see” or not – The Thinker will never be the same for those of us who remember Dobie Gillis and Maynard G. Krebs, and I had already seen one of the eight copies of Les Portes de l’Enfer many years back.

What I didn’t realize is that the Musee is housed in the Hotel Biron, where Auguste Rodin lived and worked while in Paris during the early 1900′s. It was at his own direction that the building later became a museum for his works.

The imposing Hotel Biron, site of the Musee Rodin.

The gardens are a stunning backdrop for sculptor’s work, and when you enter the building, there is a whiff of time travel – a sense that Mr. Rodin could step around a corner at any moment.

The spectacular Burghers of Calais

Musee interior (image from www.linternaute.com)

As we walked from room to room, we realized that many of the sculptures were not created by Rodin, but by Camille Claudel, a talented seventeen-year-old student of Rodin’s who became his protege, muse and mistress.

Camille Claudel (wikipedia image)

She was, of course, beautiful and things did, of course, end badly. Rodin was disinclined to leave his long-time companion, Rose Beuret, and Claudel never recovered from the final break in the relationship in 1898. By the early 1900′s, she began to manifest unmistakable signs of psychosis. She ultimately destroyed many of the sculptures she created, and, sadly, lived the last thirty years of her life in hospital psychiatric wards.

This sculpture of Claudel's "The Gossips" is carved from onyx.

Claudel's bust of Rodin

The Gates of Hell

The story is tragic, but I suspect Claudel would be satisfied to know that, in the end, her work and her lover’s remain intermingled at the Musee.

Definitely a must-see!

His and Hers in Paris: Edith and Napoleon

The CE and I have always traveled well together. We are so lucky to share many of the same interests. However, when it comes to Napoleonic sabres, I take a snooze, and, surely, few of you will blame me, right?

Swords at the Musee de l'Armee, Paris

So I caught a few extra winks on Thursday morning while he went sabre-rattling, and then took a cab to stalk my own kind of game at Le Bon Marche, Paris’ fabled department store. This must be the French idea of a joke, because the phrase “le bon marche” supposedly means “good deal”. Ha ha ha ha ha!!! Truly funny, you clever French people, you!

Le Bon Marche: a combo of Bergdorf's and Barneys on steroids!

The sticker shock at Le Bon Marche was beyond anything I have ever experienced. If the dollar-to-Euro ratio had been in the 1920′s what it is today, Hemingway, Fitzgerald et al might have been writing in the cafes of Bali or Acapulco instead of in Paris. My apologies to you all – there will be no souvenirs coming home from Paris…

And one of my favorite authors, Edith Wharton, might have stayed put in NYC instead of coming to live on Rue Varenne. Fortunately for her, times were different then, and after my sad little moth-filled wallet and I departed Le Bon Marche, I found Edith’s address and was pleased to find a plaque commemorating her residence. No wonder, since in addition to writing The House of Mirth, The Age of Innocence, The Buccaneers and more, she was also awarded the French Legion of Honor in 1916 for her efforts there on behalf of refugees during WWI.

Edith Wharton (image from personal.centenary.edu)

53 Rue Varenne, the former residence of Edith Wharton

Plaque at 53 Rue Varenne

An interesting article about Edith Wharton and Paris can be found here: http://travel.nytimes.com/2009/10/11/travel/11footsteps.html?pagewanted=all, or, better yet, read the terrific biography of EW written by Hermione Lee: http://www.amazon.com/Edith-Wharton-Hermione-Lee/dp/0375400044

After the CE was sated by his sabres, we met up to pay our respects at Napoleon’s tomb beneath the grand gold dome, and then – what else – went off to a neighborhood cafe for lunch.

Small as he was, Napoleon lives large even in death.

It was another perfect Parisian morning. As Wharton said of Paris, “je l’ai dans mon sang” - “I have it in my blood”.

Moi aussi!

The Louvre and a special lunch.

Wednesday morning we walked over to the Louvre. A few favorite sightings:

The CE in the Tuileries...

If he looks at all worried, it's because he's wondering if our museum passes will work - they did!

I know everyone else goes to see the Mona Lisa, but the Venus de Milo was my first stop.

Am I the only one who thinks Athena looks like Daryl Hannah here?

Ang, this shot of the Winged Victory of Samothrace is for you.

David's Coronation of Napoleon - you can only imagine how happy the CE was to see this!

There was so much more, but enough about art – we were in Paris, for heaven’s sake, so let’s move on to food!

I had arranged a lunch reservation at Le Grand Vefour, where Napoleon and Josephine dined back in the day. The thoughtful Maitre d’ saved seats at the “Napoleon” banquette for us and we had the most amazing lunch experience. The food, the interior of the restaurant, and the lucky happenstance of sitting next to a gracious and interesting couple from the states who are regulars at the restaurant and guided us through the memorable experience of dining there. Lucky, lucky us!

Just amazing - IF you can find it - we wandered for blocks before we finally found our way through the maze of tiny streets where Le Grand Vefour is located.

If you are a mouse, THIS is where you want to find cheese!

Dessert!

It was one of our favorite days in Paris! We miss you all! xoxo

We’ll always have Paris…and les poulets!

So, so much more to share with you about our visit in the City of Light. But the calendar (and the wallet!) say that we have to move on down the road. VERY hard to say good-bye to Paris, Hotel Le Bristol and especially Mr. Fa-raon, but leave we must.

But what will I do if I can't have my coffee delivered in the morning?

I did manage to collect a few poulets de Paris while we were here, as follows:

We saw this one in a store window

I would have bought this if there was room in my suitcase!

We saw this one in the window of a newstand. I think it says something wry about politics, as only the French can...

We saw a fellow in the Marais drawing today.

"you Americaines with your lousy dollars do not interest me so I will no longer look at you. I will eat all the poulets and I will find more interesting guests who have more and better money!" Bring some tuna and perhaps I will reconsider."

I’ll catch up with the Paris travelogue later – today we head to Avignon. Au revoir!

The latest floral arrangement in our room...I think this is the third one! Mais oui!

Monday in Paris: two trip highlights

We’ve spent a lot of time wandering around and getting lost, so yesterday we cut our losses and headed for a nice big landmark: the Tour Eiffel.

We had a lunch reservation at Le Jules Verne (a tough ticket unless you book way in advance or, like us, have a concierge in-the-know) and we arrived with only moderate expectations given that it’s a top tourist destination. And tourist + dining in Paris does not always have favorable results, as we have learned.

The CE at Le Jules Verne

But not to worry. Turns out the sky truly is the limit at LJV on all counts – ambiance, service and food all get HIGH marks.

The amuse bouche - the CE described it as "fish jello"

our appetizer - I was thrilled to see something as familiar as a potato chip!

After lunch, we crossed off a major “must do” from our list and visited Sainte-Chapelle. Louis IX built it in the 1200′s to house what was purported to be the actual Crown of Thorns from Christ’s crucifixion.

The line to enter the chapel was quite long and for reasons known only to the French, they decided temporarily not to honor our museum passes until we reached the entry, at which time they decided to honor the museum passes of several other visitors which made our wait a bit longer. We have been more or less continuously mystified by such whimsy since we arrived – it keeps us on our toes.

Sainte-Chapelle interior

A group behind us bailed out of the wait when their local guide noted their restlessness and said “Well, do you really like stained glass?” Not enough to stand in line, they decided. This is a bit like asking someone in the line at Versailles if they’re fans of period furniture. You just have to see it to appreciate it. It was worth the wait.

The stairs to the haute Chapel are a bear, but the reward is sublime.

The rose window

I sent up the following prayers while there: for sleep, please, merciful sleep; for all these French people to come to their senses and quit smoking, for steak frites as good as we get in the U.S…and for an extra week here so we can see and do everything on our list. Especially that last one!

The sky was so beautiful yesterday!

Lying awake in Paris.

Bonjour Mssrs. and Mmes.! Or Bonsoir! Either way, I’m awake, since I’ve slept a total of 2.5 hours of the last twenty-four. And only a few hours in the previous forty-eight. Other people sleep at night. I nap and then stare into the darkness, which, by the way, is as engulfing and black in Paris as it is in California. Who knew my insomnia could parlez vous Francais?

Not to be deterred, we’ve been out and about in the City of Light, doing our darndest to see the sights. We walked at least five miles yesterday, and a good three or four the day before. Not that this would, apparently be sleep-inducing. Perhaps tonight will be the night.

First things first. Our hotel is lovely. Our room is in the modest range for the esteemed Hotel Le Bristol, but we have no complaints. Could not ask for more perfect lodgings.

Beautiful floral arrangement in our room

Room with a view of Rue du Fauborg-St.-Honore

I was hoping that Owen Wilson and Rachel McAdams might pop out of the mirror-paned closet doors, but no such luck. They have disappeared along with Hemingway, Fitzgerald and the other denizens of Midnight in Paris. I watched it on the airplane on the way over (while, of course, everyone else was sleeping.)

Our room is not as big, but we have the same closet doors. (image from adventuresofgothamgal.blogspot.com)

The very, very best thing about Hotel le Bristol is the chat in residence, Fa-raon. We were introduced to him during our welcome tour and by the way he sniffed at my coat, I think he knew immediately that the Americaines had fallen under his spell.

Fa-raon and the CE

Now for the sights. Having been utterly intimidated by the depth and breadth of Alexandra’s recent sight-seeing accomplishments in Paris – she brings a new definition to the phrase Tour de France! – tired or not, I decided I needed to get moving. Here’s what we’ve seen so far:

We toured the Hotel Beavau yesterday as part of the weekend's "Journee du Patrimoine". The CE loved the Napoleonic -era gendarme.

At Place de Concorde, the obelisk that Napoleon tucked into his back pocket on the way back from Egypt

Pond at the Tuileries garden

Monet's water lilies at Musee de l'Orangerie

I’ve waited twenty-five years to visit the Musee de l’Orangerie, as it was closed when we were here in 1986. So great to finally see its treasures!

Andre Derain's L'Age d'Or

Modigliani's portait of collector Paul Guillaume

That mostly wraps up yesterday. More to come, but it’s late and time to try to sleep. Wish me luck!

Fa-raon clearly has this sleeping thing figured out...

Bonjour!

Greetings from Paris!

My last visit to France was October of 1986 – I was six months pregnant with Taylor and, thus, passed on the wine. Which is possibly why he (and Daniel – another nine wine-less months) are so darned smart and most definitely why I’ve been trying to get back there for the last 25 years!

A very young CE at the Pompidou Center, October, 1986

Me (and Taylor, kind of) in Paris, October 1986.

We arrived a few hours ago and we’ve just moved into our hotel room. And we are armed with a wonderful list of must-see, must-do and must-eat options thanks to 0ur Paris connection, Marie-Christine. But first, we need to sleep, as there was none of that to be had on the ten-hour flight. As of now, I think we’ve been awake 24 hours straight.

With any luck (and wi-fi along the way) I will be posting during the trip…

(image from tlc.com)

Au revoir!