Mostly pics today. I took another long hike and might have hurt my calf, but my launching place could not have been better. I met the most charming waiter/host who admonished me on my poor French before seating me in his small cafe for some of the most wonderful scallops I’ve ever tasted. Plus it was affordable. I just smiled between bites like someone who’d had too much wine and told him J’taime Paris on my way out. I do wish one could tip sometimes.

Then I made my way to the Seine. I think most reading this blog will know why. The sun was shining, it was a good day for it. On to Ile St. Louis and then…

Said goodbye and watched Su float away here.

Turn the corner to the lone trumpeter and I imagine taps for Su.

After some time of being emotional, I realized I’d missed some important spots on Ile de la Cite…

A bit of Old Paris (before Haussmann) on Ile de la Cite

The Conciergerie, a nice name for prison. Contains the cell of Marie Antoinette, etc.

Revolution!

The yard at The Conciergierie

Vaulted ceilings, coulmns, arcades, and bars

Now a tourist attraction

Attarcted to this medieval style staircase.

Staircase other view

(I’m not telling.)

Other than that, I didn’t take my camera with me yesterday, so no pics of Le Louvre which is where I spent about 5 hours.

The line for tickets was not long, though it an immense facility. The grandeur of the palace(s) overwhelms the art in places, but what better setting for this massive survey of the creative output of human history? C’est magnifique! I did not find the pyramid entrance disagreeable. It simply works, but reaches no higher level than that aesthetically in these auspicious surroundings.

The grounds and rooms were packed with tourists as I imagine they always are. I did such a good job of dressing like a French woman I had several visitors approach me, map in hand, asking for directions. I would reply with “Je Suis American” and a shrug, yet they would persist until I pointed this way or that in my stilted French. Strange. Was it the black suit or did I look like I owned the place?

To find one self standing in front of the great art works of western history after having studied them for so many years is a moving experience to say the least. It is one described many times before and much better by others. I did feel a tear on my cheek a couple of times.

Da Vinci must be seen in person. The deterioration and the darkness of the canvases obscure subtle lines and shading in any of the reproductions I’ve ever seen. It is clear why he is master. To reiterate a thousand analysts over the centuries, it’s the psychological presence of his subjects. More of who or what they are inhabits the pieces than those of almost any other painter. And so we have Mona alone on a wall, crowds around her constantly, but you can’t get closer to her than 10 feet. Frustrating that.

I laughed out loud in front of the Davids in the great hall with the Delacroixs. He got away with a lot. One of the finest faces rendered in a painting in the 18th century hung in the same room, or if not, was nearby, This face was painted by Elisabeth Vigee Le Brun, a woman. It was the only work of hers I saw on view. I wonder how many talents like that were wasted in service to patriarchal and class oppression. Meanwhile her colleagues look out triumphantly from their self aggrandizing self portraits.

I have to say however, that any culture that devotes an entire ornate rococo hall to a celebration of artists, architects, sculptors and writers, their portraits hung like kings down the long expanse, can’t be all bad.

After a bite at a small cafe, I wandered to the opposite side of the palace in search of Vermeer. After wearing out my feet looking at Louis XIV furniture and life-sized Empire marble portraits, I never found him. Turning a corner however, I did find Rubens, an entire massive hall of him. I sat in awe with a few other visitors for awhile. Later I found Rembrandt, he had it too, you get a concrete sense of who those people are looking out from the canvas, including himself.

I can’t recall all the wonders, it’s like walking though a 3D Gardner’s “Art through the Ages”. Le Louvre requires multiple return visits which I plan to make later this week and into the future. Today it is closed. Today is for shopping and wandering down streets.

I’m taking my camera. A Bientot!

The plan was to wander my way to an art supply store. I need big paper, bigger than I could pack. I should have known the store would be closed on Sunday. I also needed groceries and my very helpful and kind landlord gave me good instructions on where to go in the neighborhood. I didn’t get groceries, but I had a marvelous sidewalk cafe brunch, and found all the rest of these things between the cafe and the art store…

Second morning in Paris, time to get ready...

I went to find a grocery store... found St. Paul St. Louis church 1641

St. Paul St. Louis 2

St. Paul St. Louis 3

After my brunch in the shopping district Le Marais, I decide to head to the art store, via Ile St. Louis ….

Seine on the way to Ilse St. Louis

On Ile St. Louis I indulged in the famous ice cream (tre bien!) and walked amongst well dressed French and not so well dressed tourists looking at high priced touristy boutiques.

Bridge between Ile St. Louis and Ile de la Cite, packed with tourists like me.

Shorn leafless tress on the grounds of Notre Dame make beautiful shadows

Inside, powerful heights

Imposing, Impressive

Shock and Awe

Stained shimmers

Notre Dame, stunning except for the banner stretched across the main nave.

Back of the main altar piece

Chandelier

Angel

It's crowded on Sunday

From Notre Dame I made my way into the Latin Quarter and St. Germain to find the art store. It was so crowded, and I found a great many galleries. I didn’t see any art (from outside the windows) that impressed me, it seemed like run of the mill commercial fare. After getting a wee bit turned around, I did find the store which was closed of course. By then my feet had started to give out and I needed to find a “toilet”. I nearly made the hour or so walk home, but had to stop and deal with an unfriendly waiter for relief. I couldn’t believe how crowded the walks along the Seine were, especially on the north side. Parisians of all sorts mingled with tourists on Sunday evening strolls and the traffic, it was like a weekday rush hour. I had just enough energy to buy some flowers before collapsing. Someone overnight me my comfortable boots or tennies or I will not make it. I have the Louvre tomorrow.