a day in Paris

When I imagine my travels, when I place myself in different destinations and try to feel if it's a good idea to go there, whether it's a good fit for a particular journey, I do always start with Paris. Should my travels include this city that I once thought of as my most sacred escape destination? This time I was certain that I should. The last few visits to the city were with family, the younger one in July, my older granddaughter in March, and last year, I spent my Parisian days with friends from Poland. Each of these trips was of course magnificent and special, but I take in Paris differently when I am there with someone else. I worry about my fellow travelers. I look at the streets through their eyes. I want to share this city in the best way I can. I lose myself in their experiences, not in my Paris.

 I thought this time, alone, I'd start with a day of just Paris. 

My flight from Detroit was fine. I suppose diminished a little by my reading an article (thanks, NYTimes for the timing!) on the bed bug infestation in Paris. Hotels are the least of the problem. The little bugs apparently are everywhere -- subways, movie houses, you name it! The city is geared toward eradicating the menace before next summer's Olympic Games but that doesn't do me any favors this week. So, mental note: do what I do in New York: check the mattresses for telltale signs! Scan the car seats in the trains. Be vigilant! Or, ignore the whole todo and cross your fingers that you'll be lucky. I choose that option!

We land in a very wet city, but looking at the radar maps, this may well be the only wet hour of my trip. And in any case, it really doesn't matter. It's just me, and I dont mind rain. 

For the first time since Covid struck, I go back to riding the train from the airport. No more taxis! There's the price difference, but too, trains are infinitely more interesting than cab rides. The traffic problems in this city are horrible and you spend way too much time just counting the minutes until you can finally leave that confined space and breathe in some real city air. On the commuter train, you can people watch. I do a lot of it today. The train passes through the east "suburbs," known to be enclaves of an immigrant population. When you stay, as I do, close to the Luxembourg Gardens, you almost believe that Paris is mostly a white city. It's not. France does not collect census data on race, but it does ask about your country of birth. In the last decade, close to 20% of people living in the Paris metropolitan area were born outside of France. Most came from Northern Africa. There's also a sizable group of ethnic Chinese and a very small percentage from southern Europe. All these are surely among the people I see getting on and off the train as I ride into the city. And I think about their lives here and whether they've achieved success, whether they feel French or, like the Parisian baker who won the prize for the best baguette this year (he happens to be from Sri Lanka), whether they still feel strong ties to their home country.

The ride goes by very quickly. And I alight at the Luxembourg stop and come out to face the Gardens. And all I can do is smile.

I'm staying in my favorite room in my beloved Hotel Baume. WIth that simple view that I've grown so fond of over the years.

When I was in Paris in July with the young family, I couldn't get the connecting rooms we needed and so I had to look elsewhere. I found another hotel -- one with an additional star even (they rate everything in this country!), and it was very nice -- but I missed the Baume. I missed the team of people I've grown to know and love. (After a Covid era break, bisous (cheek smooches) are back!) I missed my view, I missed the pleasure of being on this quiet street so close to the park, so close to everything that's familiar. So, good as it was to try another place just once, I am back to the Baume and I bet I wont ever stray again!

I'm hungry! But let's not overdo the meals here. It's way too easy to eat big bready breakfasts, to stop for a delicious lunch and then to take in a full dinner. That's a lot of food. I must go easy at first. Still, I'm hungry! And I'm heading in the direction of Cafe La Varenne. Indeed, it's on my way! Shouldn't I stop at this most favorite lunch place? Of course I should. The perfect snack -- a plate of 3 ripe French cheeses, with a little salad on the side.

(chocolate shopping at corner chocolate store, just because it's nice to pop one at bedtime!)

(this is the true giveaway of my nonFrenchness: I have never owned a pair of shoes that looks anything like any of these)

(selfie, to prove I'm really here!)

In the late afternoon, I have tickets for a special exhibition at the Musee d'Orsay. Paintings from the last two months of Van Gogh's life. Moving to Auvers (near Paris), from the horrors of his years in Arles and the asylum at St. Remi, Van Gogh was looking to stay close to Dr. Gachet (friend, depression doctor, art collector) and to his brother. In these two months, he painted some seventy canvases, forty of which are compiled at the Orsay. 

At the Musee d'Orsay, being farsighted pays. If you buy tickets early in the game, before the exhibition has landed, you can pick an hour of entry and this will allow you then to budge all lines. 

Yes, this exhibition draws crowds, especially French people but not only. Still, it is so superb, that you hardly notice the onlookers. You are drawn to the text that describes the painting and the circumstances behind it...

(Dr Gachet)

(reminds me that the Worldwide Dairy Expo is in progress in Madison and I am missing it!)

(dive into this painting: pretend you're there!)

It is almost overwhelming! Such tender beauty and such turmoil!

(this is believed to be his last painting, done in the morning of the day Van Gogh committed suicide; tree roots...)

(But really, perhaps this one is the one that really gets to you...)

If you dont leave choked up, then you're made of sterner stuff than I am.

(So long as I'm at the Orsay, I peek in at the fifth floor Impressionists. This will be the one time in my life when I will ignore Monet. I am so focused on Van Gogh that everything else seems, well, almost too charming.)

(a Van Gogh in the d'Orsay that comes from an earlier era : two years before his death. A "starry night" at Alrles, just before Van Gogh was hospitalized)

(at the Orsay, if you find a window onto the city, you'll have yourself a really good view)

After I leave, I walk along the Seine...

... and I think about passion and talent and mental health. And I think about how museums create an opportunity to get really close to magnificent art. And how we, the humble populace are so appreciative of this raw talent! Think how many people have studied the paintings of Van Gogh and continue to crowd around his artwork!

[Being a person with a camera, I can hardly grumble at others with their phone cameras, but I was amused today to see how many raised their phones to snap everything in sight. It used to be that you couldn't take pictures at all in special exhibitions. Then the rule was you could take pics but you couldn't use flash. These days, it's free rein! The only downside with all these phone cameras is that they require a really close approach to the artwork, so that the people with these phones are always blocking your viewing pleasure. Still, they want to examine these paintings again when they get home. Who can blame them?!]

(Walking back, I encounter countless scenes such as this one, with Parisians doing what they do best...)

Evening: I booked a dinner at a restaurant that's totally new for me and a bit more particular than what I normally would choose for a solo meal. La Table de Colette. I dont know how I heard of it, possibly from my hotel people, but everything about the place touched my curiosity: the emphasis on the local vegetable garden of a farm by the sea, the eco-emphasis on everything -- from green appliances, to seed saving and notes on carbon footprints of the items on the menu, the fact that the chef is a woman (still a rarity in France) -- Josselin Marie.

It's an excellent meal. You must choose one of two fixed priced settings: a five course one, or a seven course one. I went with the fiver. There were bits of a fish accompanying one of the courses, but otherwise, it was totally vegetable based. I loved two of the dishes totally: the pumpkin soup (photo below) and the cassis cake.

 

It's very late and I am very tired by the time I return to my room by the Odeon Theater. Tomorrow I leave, but tonight I feel so very full of Paris.