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... 

 

fish, rides and Sweden

Not long ago, I told Snowdrop that a remarkable bridge had been constructed, linking Denmark with Sweden. Nearly five miles long, the Øresund Bridge crosses the channel that links the Baltic Sea and the North Sea. Since the year 2000 you could get from Copenhagen to Sweden by train, within minutes. Right away, she asked -- could we go? I like it when she has preferences and requests. On this trip, she had them for Denmark, Paris and Iceland. I tried to fulfill all of them,  so that she'd have a hand in the planning. So I said sure.

We slept late this morning. (I woke at five, took a look at a new room highlight -- we scored a real upgrade because of the problems with the old room -- and went back to sleep.)

 

You can't be surprised at the late wake-up. We've had three days in a row of a post-midnight bedtime! Still, we are speedy in the morning. By 9:30 we are eating breakfast. No pretense on my part: I'm just going for the Danish pastries. Today's -- with poppy seeds. And yogurt and fruit. She stays with the pancake and croissant. What can I say, we like our choices! 

(I show her an email with the announced cast for this summer's Young Shakespeare Players production: she is thrilled with her part of Hermia from Midsummer Nights Dream)

 

(in the elevator: she is a child, not too old to act goofy)

 

 

We signed up for something this morning: the hotel staff told us that they can arrange for guests to go behind the scenes at the aquarium and participate in a fish feeding. No cost! Can we do it? -- I ask. I'm afraid it's too late to sign up. (Then, after problems arose with our room: ) Actually, we managed to get permission for you to do it this Monday morning. 

At 10:30, we are at the Aquarium. We're there for close to 30 minutes and the person who works there is wonderful. He teaches us about the different fish, their gender changes (the clown fish is always born male, but the stronger ones change to female in adulthood!), their eating and hiding habits.

Would you like to feed the big ones now? -- the Aquarium fish-keeper asks.

Snowdrop initially hangs back. Perhaps the idea of handling chopped raw seafood is off-putting.  But within seconds, once she sees that you wear gloves, and you can throw food if you don't want to stick your hand in the water until they bite, she is on board! Again and again.

Both of us loved this little lesson in aquatic life.

We still manage to be at her ride of choice for this morning just before Tivoli opens to the public, though honestly, on a Monday morning, it hardly matters: it's not crowded at all. At least not in mid June. (Schools close for the summer in Copenhagen on June 30th and reopen in mid-Agust.) 

Snowdrop gave herself the goal of trying one scary new ride each day -- first thing in the morning. This morning she wanted to do this one:

It's tall! You can see this Tivoli tower from afar. You see the way it works. The circle of spinners goes up, spinning rapidly of course, all the way to the top, where it stays for a while before coming down. 

 (she's waiting, just a little apprehensively...)

 

But at the moment of opening, the ride operators announce that the winds are too fierce today. It is, in fact, a cool and blustery day. And so it's a no go. Is she disappointed? Not at all. She tried, it didn't work out. She's fine with that. She spends the rest of the morning going between her favorites. And winning a silly bouncy ball at the duckie fishing pond.

(in her new shoes that are not too tight!)

(on this one, she has to climb to the top pulling herself up with the rope; it's not a popular ride -- you have to work!)

 

Satisfied and satiated (for now), we go back to the hotel and study the train schedules. The trains are relatively frequent. The Copenhagen Central Station is just across the street for us. We figure out the ticketing machines and pick up the 1:30. 

One reason why I like this adventure is that it does allow Snowdrop to figure out how to manage the transportation system here. She is the one working the machines to get tickets, picking out the right train and platform, getting us to it on time. This lesson in managing in a country where you do not speak the language is valuable, I think.

(on the bridge now...)

 

We get off at Malmo. This is Sweden's third largest city (after Stockholm and Gothenburg) and I can tell you right now we aim to see very little of it. It may or may not be interesting from a visitor perspective. I don't try to find out. We haven't the time, and I find little value in exploring big cities in an hour or two. What we do want is a lunch here and our hotel desk person, who himself is from Malmo, directed us to the Malmo Saluhall. 

(walking to the Saluhall)

 

It's a food court with very good, freshly prepared foods. 

 

 

It's not crowded and we quickly decide on our selections (which we take outside): I opt for herring with bread, followed by coffee and a cardamon roll. I'm trying to be Scandinavian! She without hesitation orders fish and chips.

(Gaga! The fish is haddock!) 

(herring)

 

 

(haddock)

 

 (cardamon buns)

 

 

(Walking back to the station)

 

 

 

 We run to make the 15:20 back to Copenhagen -- a 41 minute ride.

(from the station to our hotel, reflections...)

 

 

I do have to pack us up today as we're leaving for Paris tomorrow morning. I booked dinner again at the Nimb Brasserie, for the sheer ease of eating here. I feel (and Snowdrop would agree) that our best meal thus far was yesterday. We are so happy with it that there's no need to keep on searching for another superb dinner. And the one at the Brasserie is just fine: she asks for three oysters, followed by a dish of fish of the day (plaice) from the kids menu. She and I both like the way they prepare vegetables -- for kids and adults alike. I go with asparagus, Norwegian shrimp (tiny!), and sole. After last night's success story with Danish (nonalcoholic) wine, I try another one. Alas, it doesn't compare.

We end the day, and really our Denmark adventure with an evening walk through Tivoli. Of course.

She asks for cotton candy for dessert and more importantly -- to end her visit here with her two favorite rides. This one, coming in second:

 

 

 

(it's still very windy, but at this height, this particular ride is not affected) 

 

And hands down the first place winner -- this one, a ride that puts her in a happy place.  She must have gone on it at least twenty times!

(I could recognize those dangling shoes anywhere!)

 

Evening. Bedtime will be for sure before midnight. I hope. 

with so much love...