The girls cuddling on the ferris wheel.
Eilidh's family by Eilidh
After the art stop we visited the shoe shop and within literally 5 minutes I walked out with a beautiful, comfortable soft pair of leather shoes. I did a fine job of resisting the pair of heeled work shoes that I loved, but would never actually wear (in the muds of Kodiak at least). After our quick couple of errands we still had half an hour or so until we were to meet Sven and Bella was in urgent need of a potty stop so we ran into the first little cafe that we saw: it was an incredibly bustlilng, busy stop. We saw 8 waiters (at least) all rushing around and squishing themselves between the tight tables with coffee, croissants, wine and champagne. This inauspicious choice of cafes will probably end up being one of the highlights of the trip for us, because it was so unexpectedly entertaining and fun. And we just chose it because I didn't want to go into Hemingway's Deux Magots across the street, which I thought would be too cliche and touristy. (I found out later from one of our friends that we did actually go into an extremely famous and cliche cafe: The Cafe de Flore, where most of the waiters employed there have been there for at least 15 years).
From Wikipedia: The Café de Flore, at the corner of the Boulevard Saint-Germain and the Rue St. Benoit, in the 6th arrondissement of Paris, has long been celebrated for its intellectual clientele. The classic Art Deco interior of all red seating, mahogany and mirrors has changed little since World War II. Like its main rival, Les Deux Magots, it has hosted most of the French intellectuals during the post-war years. It is said that Jean-Paul Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir would meet here and discuss their philosophy of existentialism over a drink. The Prix de Flore, a literary prize inaugurated by Frédéric Beigbeder in 1994, is awarded annually at the Café de Flore.
In fact, I just went on their amazing website and saw an image of our waiter, who'd been working there for something like 20 years (the one with white hair). From the moment we walked in and said, "Trois, sil vous plait" we felt like prized guests (the maitre'd slyly said, Trois? and looked down and little Bella stuck between Eilidh and myself and little-old-lady screamed in surprise). Our waiter showed us to our table and then literally tucked the girls into their bench next to a crazy-haired eccentric looking lady (who I was sure would ignore us but was soon chattering away in broken English about how great this place was). Then, for the next 30 minutes of our little tea- juice- wine stop every single waiter who came by would tweak Bella's nose, tickle Eilidh's side or at least give us all a lovely grin. And not in an annoying uncomfortable way, but in an "I'm busy but I'm so glad you are here" way (was it the bunny earmuffs in an academic, serious spot that made them so happy? We'll never know). Our waiter smuggled us handfulls of the house chocolates and little sugar cookies shaped into the shape of spoons and it was with reluctance that we left (maybe this is the way they get people to repeatedly pay $10 for the cheapest glass of wine... anyway it worked for me. I'd go back in a heartbeat! So much for Parisiens being rude. We've experienced nothing but wonderful, sweet people- sometimes with a bit of an initial chill that is softened by just a word or two of poorly-spoken French). Oh, and another wonder of this amazing cafe: the teeny little lap dog perched behind her owner on a little 4 inch ledge while the owner- impeccably dressed- ate a beautiful quiche with a side of green beans).
Anyway, enough on food... we had to go find Sven and his friend Gwen, from the Quai Branly, who were walking towards us (along the Seine). The plan was to meet somewhere in the middle. Which we did. And right at the turn-off to the Orangerie Museum, our intended 2nd stop of the day. Fate. But alas, no cafe in the Orangerie, so we all accompanied Sven and Gwen to a little cafe in the Tuilleries Garden to eat lunch. Afterwards, we headed into the Orangerie Museum. The Orangerie Museum is quite small- just two floor, and one floor is entirely Monet's Waterlillies, and two rooms of them. The effect is quite stunning. Viewers are expected to stay quiet and the mood is very serious and contemplating. We felt very calm and peaceful in the rooms as well.
Heading downstairs, we were able to view the work of artists painting during the late 1800s and early 1900s (post-Louvre and Pre-D'Orsay, and most definitely pre-Pompidou) in that amazing time of experimentation that was impressionism. Bella wore us all out by sitting herself down resolutely in front of at least 4 paintings and sketching them (each one took at least ten minutes of intense concentration). She was oblivious to all around her as she attempted to get the 'boobies' or the arms just right. It was fascinating to watch. Eilidh did not get as interested in sketching as Bella did, but still did a few, and did not at all get bored. She was more into creating crazy stories with the paintings and talking about where the paintings were set.
The OrangerieOutside the Orangerie.
One of the two Monet Waterlillies viewing rooms.
Bella's version.
Yet another....
Derain's still life.
Bella discovering Marie Laurencin, the only French woman painter of any reputation in the 1920s.
She's amazing! Why isn't she as famous as Picasso?
Bella's version.
Bella all flushed and excited after her marathon drawing session.
As the Orangerie's doors were closing we made our way out and tumbled right onto the end of the Champs- Elysees, and right in front of the gigantic (GIGANTIC) ferris wheel that is opposite the Arc de Triomphe. So of course we shelled out our 30 euros and climbed onboard... for what was an absolutely riveting and gorgeous ride to view the lights of Paris. Better than the Eiffel Tower, since we got to SEE the Eiffel Tower.
Afterwards we jumped on the metro to the Pompidou center to meet our friend Nelcya for her treat to us of a wonderful couscous dinner. The restaurant was probably the last we would have chosen, as it was completely empty (expect for a few locals at the bar) and a little dingy, but it was a fantastic meal and Nelcya told us that it's been one of the last holdouts to 'modernization' and 'tourist-ization' in the neighborhood. And according to her, it has had a painting of James Dean on the corner window for the last 20 years for some reason (she enjoys watching the non-changeability of it all).
We were so tired at dinner we could barely keep our eyes open, but somehow we succumbed to that strange occurrence where when you finally do get home to your nice warm bed you can't fall asleep....
The ferris wheel!
from the ferris wheel
On the ferris wheel
After our ride... touring the Champs Elysees Christmas market
Went out of the wrong exit of the metro and saw a monkeypuzzle tree!
Friday, December 17th- I woke up grumpy today and it wasn't until we left the apartment at around noon that I realized why it was- I am sad to leave Paris! Everything is so lovely and interesting that I know that we'll go into shock at home. At that same time we are all very ready to be home. Being around friends, Kodiak's beauty and the wonderful, smart people who call Kodiak home is a lovely thought as well. We discussed how wonderful it is that we are sad and happy, just as we were when we left Kodiak. It's the best of both worlds....
Anyway, we had a grand plan for Friday of visiting two museums, but we decided to walk the five miles to our first one (the Grand Palais), thinking it would be a nice way to spend the morning (actually early afternoon). What we didn't expect was how Paris' cold goes to your bones so we had to make a couple stops (brasserie for lunch and a little coffee stand in the Luxembourg gardens).
The epic walk- with a stop in the Luxembourg gardens.
Winstol Churchill statue
We eventually did make it to the Grand Palais after a wonderful detour along the banks of the Seine, but it wasn't until 2 or 3 o'clock and the exhibit on display there was quite underwhelming (for us, at least). It was all on the history of the Italian Bulgari jewelry company, which is of course lovely and beautiful, but the fact is that none of us are into jewelry (we were so clueless about Bulgari that we thought it would be one gems not jewelry). Anyway, as we escaped the crowded exhibit space to the bathrooms we suddenly looked up and gasped in awe, and suddenly the exorbitant 12 euro entrance fee to the show paid off!The Grand Palais was built for the Paris World's Fair of 1900 (11 years after the show that made Gustave Eiffel famous) and it was built to showcase the wonders of iron and steel as the Palais itself is almost completely glass. The most amazing thing to me was, while Eiffel's tower is rigid and utilitarian in form (like an upright bridge), the Grand Palais is full of exquisite ornamental effects that make the Palais come alive and seem more than just metal and glass. It seemed ornate, and somehow to pre-date and predict Art Nouveau! It's sad to say that our bathroom break was the highlight of the visit, but it was. What an amazing structure! (World Fairs in the late 1800s, early 1900's were a big thing- this is how modern art progressed so quickly, and ideas were exchanged so readily- in the absence of internet and TV).
Anyway, after our strange Grand Palais visit we were all chilled and grumpy (and Bella, who must be growing, was hungry yet again) so we sat outside and ate a snack in the 30 degree weather, which allowed us to take in some of the stranger details of the facade (what's with all the fighting babies?) and get even more chilled. By then it was around 4 and we were all done for the day, ready to head home. We passed by two more wonderful-looking museums on the way to the metro but happily jumped on the train to head home. Back at the flat I opened a bottle of champagne, made dinner and worked on the computer. Sven read Harry Potter (book 7! Good thing to do on a sabbatical...). The girls danced, painted, and made piles of toys (home and France). All was well... last day tomorrow... bittersweet.
WHY must you chubby babies always fight?
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