sunshine and sunshine

Let's just say we are stuck on an 11:15 bedtime. Somehow I cannot move us to an earlier lights out. And yes, I have to admit it, I do not try very hard. 

We wake up late of course -- and this is fine too. You do not eat your croissant before 9 here unless you have an early appointment or a flight to catch. This time we do a better breakfast routine. Just croissants! And yogurt for me. (We have cherries and strawberries leftover in the room.)

Once again I give Snowdrop some options. She tells me that what she would really like is a walk to the Eiffel Tower. That's a good hour from our hotel, but she insists she is really up for a long walk. I like that -- the walk is familiar and lovely, even if it is a hot hot day. We always pick the shady side of the street.

(it should not surprise me how affectionate people here are in public, and yet it always does)

(gaga, someone's watering this plant from above!)

Passing the Rue Cler market rouses her appetite a little.

Can we get a baguette for a snack?

Luck would have it that we would be, right at that moment, passing a bakery that got first prize a few years back in the baguette competition of Paris. (Yes, they have baguette competitions. And croissant competitions, and countless other food and drink competitions.)

So, the Eiffel Tower, with baguette. Rare is the trip where Snowdrop doesn't do this pilgrimage to the symbol of Paris.

Here's a weird thing: in the spaces to the south of the Tower (meaning the green fields that are soon to be "improved"), it's pretty empty this morning. We find a small group of tables by a refreshment stand, buy some water, and sit in glorious shade, and watch school children go by. Not much else going on. It's lovely!

(in pairs, holding hands is obligatory)

Snowdrop is quite into clothes shopping at Petit Bateau, which has simple casual stuff for kids and adults alike. Since everything is 50% off, I'm not opposed to returning to a nearby branch of it. 

 

(eager) 

 

 

I live to regret this decision: yesterday she begged for a rain coat. (I don't have one! I always have to borrow mommy's!) We got one. In size 10. Which fits her just fine, even though she is a tall girl. But in this Petit Bateau, she finds a size 12. "I like a bigger one so much more!" Well okay, but to exchange it, I'd have to bring the other one here -- which is a 45 minute walk -- today, as we are leaving tomorrow. She looks with longing at the coat. "That's fine. I like the small one okay..." Wouldn't you do what I did -- leave the girl to watch her tablet in the late afternoon and make your way back to do the exchange? Of course you would!

Okay, lunch time. At Cafe Varenne. If she has her Eiffel Tower routine, I have my Cafe Varenne routine. I come here every time I am in Paris. Today we arrive on the early side of the lunch period and so we score a good table.

Do you want pasta? Beans? No, fish and fries! She is on a roll.

A trip to the caramel candy store (there are three people in my family who love these sweets and she is one of those three)...

Then to the Department Store (mistake number two: this girl who increasingly looks, talks, acts like a teenager, who loves texting her friend and trying on perfumes at the perfume counter, is absolutely crazy about toys still).

And now home. Gaga, you keep calling the hotel "home!" I do, don't I...

In the evening we eat at a new for us place -- Brasserie Lipp. The restaurant is actually old (open for business since 1880), well known, and very traditional, very French traditional. 

 

 

I chose it because I thought we would maybe stray into something other than fish and fries... Ha!

Snowdrop does start with a dish that is new for her -- razor clams. Which she loves. It's followed by a beautiful fillet of sea bass. Which she double loves. I opt for the Cod Brandade. I haven't had it since Ed and I spent summer weeks in Sorede. (A Brandade is a salted cod and potato mash and it originated in the southern region of Languedoc.) Honestly, I liked her dish better. Snowdrop tried mine and said -- it's good! But I'll stick with mine. Wise girl.

 

 

On the walk home, we pass over subway vents; she loves the burst of air, especially since she always wears shorts under a dress or skirt!

 

 

 

At the hotel, I request my bottle of bubbly wine, which they stored for me in their refrigerator. Yesterday, we passed a wine store and on an impulse, I asked about their non-alcoholic wines. They had quite a wide selection. This is France. Their wines a superb! I bought a bottle of white in the style of champagne. 0 %. I opened it in the evening. Sipping wine had been a lovely routine in my past. Why not rekindle those moments with a glass of this one! My expectations were high. I popped the cork, saw the bubbles, poured a glass. Ummm... no. To me it tasted like a somewhat dry fizzy apple juice. Nevertheless, it wasn't cheap so I wasn't going to waste it. 

The desk clerks were curious about it. Was it good -- they asked. I told them my opinion and invited them to try it. After listening to me rant about it, their expectations were low. And perhaps for that reason, they liked it! I told them they could have the rest. I think it will be funny if they pour themselves glasses at the desk -- the guests will (mistakenly) think -- typical French. Always with a glass of wine at the side!

 

I'm not even trying for an early night tonight. I have to pack. We want to read. We'll sleep in tomorrow and nap during the plane ride to Reykjavik. 

With so much love... 

 

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... 

 

to Paris

Well, we did clock in a bedtime yesterday before midnight. Lights out at 11:35p.m.! This repeated lateness is partly my fault: I haven't shortened my posts by much. Perhaps a 25% cut from my typical travel writings. That accounts for a bit of a delay in the evening, but not that much -- I usually am mostly done by then). And, too, there is the after dinner visit to Tivoli. Add an hour or two there. Special interruptions (the loud music Friday, the light show Saturday, the room switch Sunday, and packing Monday) are to blame for the rest. I'm really hoping that in Paris we will move up our bedtime. Before we get messed up again as we return to Reykjavik!

I am up before her. Last minute packing, tidying up the room. And Snowdrop is quick in the mornings: school for her started at 7:40. She is used to rushing. By 8:15 we are at breakfast. For our usuals.

(Snowdrop tells me this is her ideal breakfast. All that's missing is the fake bacon that she loves so much back home.) 

(Honestly, I feel equally happy with mine: pastry, yogurt, fruit. The sacred trilogy. Plus milky coffee of course.)

 

 

(so long, Tivoli)

One last check of the room and unfortunately, a good bye to the black cat...

And we are off to the airport. 

Time to think about the trip. The first thought I always have in leaving a place is whether I will come back. That's an older person's thought! At first, I kept some spare Danish cash -- always handy to have when you arrive in a foreign place. But in the end I spend it down to almost the last Danish Krone. I know Snowdrop is dying to come back. Her dream vacation would be en famille, to all the Nordic countries. She tells me she would be in charge of planning out Denmark. She would include a few days at the sea, a few in Copenhagen, which for her is Tivoli writ large. The hotel cannot be the Nimb -- that's a once in a lifetime splurge. But it has to be close to the Gardens! 

I take her fantasizing as a compliment. Trips with me were always meant to be a springboard to a future of travel and excitement over finding yourself in a new place.  When I am alone, I tend to return these days to places I love. With Snowdrop, I always want her to see something new . Her love of Denmark, triggered to be sure by the Tivoli Gardens, comes with a promise to herself that she will be back. This makes me happy! [She does also have a love of France -- I'm to blame for that of course. For the first time on this trip she comes just a little prepared. She has been doing a French language app every morning for months now. She wants to be fluent in the language. I'm glad of that as well!]

 

A short flight to Paris, a commuter train ride into town (cheaper, faster, better), and we alight in a city that is very, very warm. (Well, we already knew that: the train was without air conditioning and the windows were closed. The French are used to heat and I have to say, I prefer it to the bone chilling air conditioned spaces back home.) Today's high is 89F (or 32C). I suppose we are lucky: all sunshine and no rain. And, too, it will be even warmer by the weekend. We wont be in Paris by then. We'll be dripping in a bunch of very wet and cold days in Iceland.

Alighting from the underground station at Luxembourg is always makes me smile. We are in Paris. Right by the Luxembourg Gardens. How good is that!

And the walk to our hotel is downhill, which is great on the arrival and a little less great on the departure (uphill then!).

 

 

 

We're staying at the Baume. In my favorite room. Talk about a happy place -- this one is mine!

The staff here is so very wonderful and the room is always perfect and comfortable and spotless. With three large windows looking out on a quiet street. Snowdrop got a little gift from them -- a cosmetics case with some French products -- lip balm, cream, that sort of thing. She was thrilled!

Wait, we haven't eaten lunch and it's 4 p.m.! She claimed not to be hungry on the plane. Hmmm... Snowdrop, how would you like a nice ice cream cone, right now? Okay! And maybe cotton candy in the park? No protest there.

 

(hers) 

 

 

(mine)

 

I have an agenda for tomorrow and an open mindset for the next day. This afternoon, we go to the Gardens. It's hot, but less so in the shade. And what fragrances! If you walk under the canopy of the linden trees, you are overwhelmed by the sweet, delicate scent of their blooms. For once they outperform the lovely chestnuts.

 

She very much wants to go to the large playground in the park. And the merry-go-round -- a bit sheepishly since she feels too old for it, even as it makes her happy. And the swings. It's funny to see her doing these small amusements after having done such big ones at Tivoli. But I do think that she misses her friends in these more playful venues. She wont say so and insists that being my traveling companion is the best, but there are places where grandmothers are no substitute for kids her age.

(I wait for her at the side, along with other parents, grandparents, nannies. She climbs and slides and zips on her own.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

We eat dinner at Les Editeurs. That's on the girl as well. I had booked a table at a favorite pizza place, thinking surely that she'd want a break from seafood, but no. She asked what was on the menu in "that red place,"(it has red leather-ish seats)  and when I mentioned sea bass, she said -- let's go there. Fine with me!

 

And now it is evening. Sunset here is just shy of 10, so it is still light when we start thinking about bedtime. No excuses tonight! Let's try for sleep before 11. Or thereabouts.

with so much love...