sunshine and art

You do not need good weather in Paris. Sure, monsoon-like rains, in the style of the downpour I experienced here back in October are a bit hard on you if you want to walk from one end of the city to the other (especially when the metro floods and traffic is stalled), but showers, clouds -- these don't foul up your Parisian experience. Rain doesn't take away from the beauty of the city. 

Nevertheless, sunshine here is delightful. Looking out our windows in the morning, listening to the street washing outside (these days trucks provide water and the workers spray the streets and sidewalks with blasts from a hose), taking in the sparkle and shine of all in front of you -- that's just plain magic.

But here's the rub: this spell of sunshine comes to us with warm weather. No, let me rephrase that -- hot weather. Today we'll reach 87F, tomorrow 90F (that's 31C and 33C). If you walk the sunny side of the street, it's even toastier. So we treat this day as a summer broiler, but with the ambiance of a spring day -- meaning the kids are still in school (Parisian kids don't start summer vacation until July 5th), no one is off for their month-long escape yet. In other words, the streets are full of Parisians. At least in the non-touristy blocks.

The day starts with breakfast. This was a bit of a mess and so no good photo emerged from it. Our idea was to have some protein, some cereal (she wanted to try their chocolate one, I opted for muesli), and a small croissant each. The salmon portion and the cereal portions turned out to be huge, and a basket of breads showed up over and beyond the two croissants. Somehow a cup of hot chocolate appeared as well. Not wanting to waste stuff, I pushed Snowdrop to eat more. She did that, while the waiter engaged me in a discussion of his future study plans. Turns out he had applied to and got accepted at the University of Wisconsin, but was denied a visa. (He is not French, but from a country that is not favored by our current administration.) Understandably he is frustrated. Equally understandably, I can do nothing about this but empathize. If he was looking for reassurance from me, he didn't get it. What can I say except, on repeat, "I'm so sorry, hang in there."

And now we are off for our day in Paris. In the morning, we walk. 

In the afternoon, we go to the Louvre. This is Snowdrop's idea. She'd asked me if she could finally see the Mona Lisa. That was an "oh dear" moment for me. As a few of you may have seen, I never go to the Louvre Museum. I mean, yes, I've been to it. As a young adult. And I swear I took my daughters to it, though they claim otherwise. There are many many reasons for me to avoid it. I don't love art from the 16 - 18th centuries, which is the period most represented at the Louvre. (Of course, earlier sculptures and art objects also abound). I don't love it especially in large doses. If the Louvre had ten rooms, I'd go. But the museum has over 400 rooms with some 35 000 pieces of art on display (and another 465 000 stashed away). It has 9 miles of corridors. It's just too much.

And I don't see the point of going to see the Mona Lisa. Wiki says this about it: The Mona Lisa) has been described as "the best known, the most visited, the most written about, the most sung about, [and] the most parodied work of art in the world." Reason enough not to rush to see it again. If ever. The crowds are said to be beyond the pale. I'm sure most people who come to the Louvre have as their goal a snapshot of themselves by the Mona Lisa. The Louvre has started to cap the number of visitors admitted each day at 30 000. I would bet that 29 000 of them want to see this most famous painting.

But, the girl has a point. She has been to Paris now nearly every year of her life (I am that fond of this city) and I have never once suggested a trip to the Louvre. Time to let her have a peek.

Here's the issue though: I do not feel confident in leading her through it. What do I show her? How do I take on the task of allowing her to see the wonders of a place that just overwhelms me? Time to hire a guide. I can't stomach a group tour, so I hire Elli for a couple of hours. She lives in Paris and holds a PhD in art history. She knows the Louvre like the back of her hand. And I am hoping she is good with kids who take exactly one minute to study any particular piece of art (if that).

All this is reserved for the afternoon. Where to in the morning? I ask Snowdrop: to the left, along the river, or to the right, toward Notre Dame? She chooses left, and eventually we cross the river to the Jardin de Tuileries, and as long as we are there, can she maybe go on the merry-go-round? I'm fine with that. And I'm amused with myself because when I traveled with my own kids, I rarely gave them so much time to play. We did mostly serious stuff! Now, I see that my balance was off. Snowdrop laughs at this: she tells me grandmothers tend to realize the value of play! Certainly this one does! 

And speaking of play, on the way to the river, we pass the ice cream shop that Primrose and Juniper loved so much. Snowdrop wants to try their flower cone. She is hooked and delighted that this particular shop recently opened a branch in Chicago!

 

 

 

 (me too!)

 

 

Tuileries Gardens are... hot! And a bit dusty. Clearly Paris has had a dry spell. (It also is re-introducing the Olympic balloon for the summer. It's going up on June 21st and coming down on September 4th.) 

 

 

But the merry-go-round is lovely and the ticket seller, here for twenty six years, is as always, sweet and generous with extra rides.

Afterwards, the playground.

And a walk back to the hotel. But just for a few minutes! We need to grab a "lunch." How about crepes at the Breizh Cafe? She begs for a chocolate one. This is turning out to be a... chocolate day! (I order one with honey and lemon, so I'm no better.)

And then we high-tail it over the river again... 

 

 

... to the Louvre, where we meet up with Elli. 

 

 

Elli is wonderful. Truly wonderful.  She takes us to places that are quiet yet special. Many of the canvases have elements of Greek Mythology and Snowdrop surely can relate to those stories (she went through a Greek mythology  phase.)

 

(Did you know that the Louvre actually has a room of Impressionists? With almost nobody there because, well, few know about it?)

 

 

 

But, too, we want to see the three big ticket items: Winged Victory, the Mona Lisa, and Venus. 

The crowds for these and especially the Mona Lisa, are insane. Elli tells us this is a recent thing. Why did they grow so much? -- I ask her. She says -- people limit themselves to what they read on the internet. And of course Beyonce and the Da Vinci Code didn't help.

(We glanced at the painting from the side, away from the shoulder to shoulder onlookers, with just the guard moving the crowds along with his stern voice. )

 

 

 

 

 

 (Snowdrop, doing an impossible imitation of the impossible Venus pose)

 

Equally remarkable are the old walls of the fortress that once enclosed Paris. You can find these below the Louvre Palace.

I'm hoping Snowdrop will remember all the details and curiosities that Elli shared with us. Such a terrific visit! But, after two hours, Snowdrop is spent.

We walk out through what very much reminds you of an airport -- shop after shop of expensive items (even macarons!), and of cheap fast food (McDonald's??). And now we are out in the bright sunshine of Paris.

 (the Louvre -- or at least a portion of it)

 

She begs for a cab ride home. I stall her. "Let's cross the bridge first!" Okay... Can we get a cab now? We're near a bus stop -- let's do that. Okay... can we take this bus? No, it's not the right one.  I'd love a taxi! I need to get some money from the ATM first. Okay... are there any on this block? (I take her along streets where I know there aren't any.) Listen, how about if we stop at the Petit Bateau clothes store. You can sit while I look, okay? 

Snowdrop is energized by this idea. The girl never goes clothes shopping back home so it is an exciting activity. 

We almost make it back to the hotel, but not quite. We need a bathroom break! No problem: we stop at Les Editeurs -- yesterday's dinner place. I tell her -- I'll get a Peroni zero beer (which is the one non-alcoholic beverage you can find everywhere in Europe) while you find the toilette. Can I have something too? 

She settles for a chocolate molten cake because, well, it's just such a chocolate day. (I do also pick up some Belgian strawberries and French cherries from a grocer. I feel the need for her to up her fruit  and veggie consumption. I'm that kind of a grandma.)

In the evening we go to Seulement Sea. Her choice once again. All seafood. Oysters, white fish, fries for her, dessert.

And once again it's late. Last night, we did turn out the lights by 11:15. Tonight I'm aiming for 11! Small steps!

with so much love...