a Parisian Friday

We have two full days in Paris. It seemed fine when I booked our trip, it seems a little short now. I feel that the perfect stay would have a day without an agenda, where you follow your nose and your heart and see what comes of it. Though perhaps with Snowdrop, I am more likely to have at least one place in mind for every single day -- a museum or a neighborhood or a park, depending on the weather. 

I had asked her early on if there's a place she'd like to go back to and she voted for the Orangerie with the Monet lilies. Wonderful. We'll aim for that right after breakfast.

 

Breakfast at the Baume. It's not a buffet so it requires a commitment in advance. It takes her a day of hits and misses before she settles on a combination that works for her. On this trip, it's cocoa puffs and croissants and a bit of orange juice. You could argue that I should push for something more nutritious. I would answer  -- hey, she's eating breakfast. I've seen her have days where she'd just as soon skip the whole thing. But at the Baume, you can count on her downing three croissants without a hesitation.

We set out on our walk to the Orangerie. Brisk, because it is a chilly morning. I almost wish we had gone one level up in terms of jacket warmth. A high of 53F/11C today. Slightly cooler tomorrow. But rain-free!

(what's blooming at the Tuileries)

 

 

The lines are surprisingly long, though we have timed tickets, so we can budge the big line. I hadn't realized that a new exhibition went up just two days ago (that's how out of it I was this winter -- I missed the Matisse and I missed this one too). The focus here is on the paintings of Henri Rousseau -- another post-Impressionist! I'm not especially smitten with his art, but it is so incredibly recognizable that I think it's worth taking in with Snowdrop. But first, her favorite -- the Monet lilies.

So beautiful, no matter how many times you see them. 

And the Rousseau exhibit? Very interesting!

(a young artist, with her own impression)

 

 

I think for Snowdrop as well. 

I'd say it was a worthwhile coincidence.

 

When we come out of the Orangerie, the girl wants to head straight for the merry-go-round.

 

 

 

 (same ticket guy, making same cotton candy)

 

 

 

 

 

We're right next to the Tuilerie playground. Not too old! (With ample comments about "pushy boys!") 

 

 

 

And I see that we are not too far from Smith & Son (the bookstore). Perhaps she'd like a new book? 

You have to stick to your guns with her -- Snowdrop always asks for many books, not all of them ones you'd like her to be reading. She tells me that in fifth grade, teachers aren't fussy -- they applaud you if you like to read any books. And really, I can hardly blame her for liking all those graphic novels that she has accumulated. I loved books that were of questionable value when I was her age. Her vocabulary is beyond the beyond, so why fret about the fact that all the conversations come in bubble format?

And now we have one of our typical walks that take us from one place to the next:

Across the Seine again... 

 

 

 

... along the Boulevard St Germain, up rue du Bac. Past coffee shops with dogs...

 

 

 

Past the Cafe Varenne (we're not hungry yet, unfortunately), into the sweet shop (she wants nougats), up to La Grande Epicerie -- the food hall that looks fabulously tempting, especially before a major holiday (Easter). We're not here for the sweet stuff. I need some good fruit for her, and other small things from my shopping list.

She's getting tired now and so am I! When are we ever going to sit down? 

 

 

Not yet. Another quick stop at Petit Bateau, another pause at a jewelry store that always speaks to me when I am here (the goal is just to look!). 

She is hungry and wants lunch. Considering yesterday's miserable excuse for a midday meal, I cant blame her for wanting to go to Les Editeurs -- a place where she loves many foods, not the least of which are the fries.

(waiting, reading)

Just one more stop, I tell her. For coffee at the small cafe that opened up a couple of years ago on the same square as Les Editeurs.

And home. Despite the coffee, I am sleepy as can be.  It's the weather! And the exercise! And the feeling of total relaxation. 

Dinner? I take Snowdrop to the nearby Marcello. I had liked it back in January and I thought after all that fish, she'd be ready for Italian. And she is. Amazing how such a small menu can hit all the right spots for her. Mixed fried seafood to start with, linguini with clams for her main course. She eats the clams ravenously and when the waiter grates lots of cheese for her on the remaining pasta, she is in seventh heaven. 

 

 

And here's a surprise -- just around the corner, we'd found an Amorino ice cream shop. Just a hop's throw from our hotel. 

 

 

 

 

 

It's always impressive to me how many people are out enjoying this spring evening. It's a cool evening and yet, the place is full of people, enjoying the outdoors as if it were July (except that in July, they'd likely not be here, but on their annual grandes vacances. Enjoying themselves then too. I live now in a new-ish housing development back home. Dozens, no, hundreds of homes, apartments, townhouse, and we are lucky to have that one cafe nearby -- Tati's. Last time I went there around lunch time it was empty. And much to the chagrin of my kids, it closes at 3, so they can never visit it after school for a treat, for ice cream. What happened to our communities anyway? Or were we always like this?

 

 

Tomorrow's our last day here. It always feels so odd to think that a few days back we were still in Madison, waiting to take off. And now here we are, dazzled by days of sunshine in Nice, saturated with the joy and sweet comfort of being in our special corner of Paris. 

with so much love... 

to Paris

We wake up to a cloudy day. Oh, Nice is slated to have plenty of sunshine in the days ahead. Lovely temperatures as well -- certainly nicer than what we will have in Paris, but still, it does feel like the skies have shut their doors, at least temporarily, to all that sunshine that was our friend for three days running.

It's good to leave a place right after breakfast. Those trips where I'd have half a day to explore before taking off were always unrewarding. I'd take that extra walk gauging the minutes, not really letting myself feel part of my surroundings anymore, thinking of the travel that was ahead. And so on this day too, I booked a flight to Paris that has us leaving our hotel shortly after breakfast.

(down the splendid stairs -- with a yawn!)

 

 

(a plate of favorites)

 

 

(a plate of favorites)

 

 

 (one last Negresco cappuccino)

 

 

Yes, booked a flight, which has to be strange, considering how much I love train rides. It's just that the train ride from Nice to Paris is just that much too long. Six and a half hours, and there's a change involved -- never great when you have lots of luggage and a kid to mind. Alone, you can miss your connection and figure out an alternative. With Snowdrop in tow, it becomes more of a headache. Besides, I've accumulated enough miles to give us a free flight. A little over an hour and we're in Paris.

Well, Paris airport -- not a favorite place to arrive at for sure. Splurging on a cab does you no favors: it's a very stop-and-go ride in afternoon traffic. I much prefer the commuter train (even when their are delays as today), so we make our way to it and eventually we are in the city...

 

 

 

(so green! so many interesting dogs!) 

 

 

... and walking to Le Baume hotel -- the incredibly lovely home of mine for all my trips to this city. The place where every minute is an exhale, a joy, a thrill really. I have my favorite two rooms -- I'll take either, they both have three big windows that look out on the street. They're both splendid.

(What happened to lunch today? Well, we helped ourselves to a couple of almond croissants from downstairs)

 

 

(Snowdrop and I always use the stairs when we leave; we've always admired the photos on the stairwell walls, but we'd never noticed that "Odette" was with a "petit chien" who looks remarkably like a dog we know back home)

 

This is when travel starts to be easy. No stress, no pressure. Walk this way, or that -- each direction brings a mix of the familiar with the new. How can you not love days here?!

I was surprised to read at the airport that one of the museums here is having a Matisse exhibition, featuring some of the better known work of his -- the lemons, for example, that have been feature prominently in my guest room, from farmhouse to the Edge, and now in Sally's House. It would be great to cap our Matisse exploration here in Paris, but I am actually too late. The exhibition is new and not surprisingly, all tickets for our dates are sold out.

We have other museum plans, but not for today. I unpack, we rest a bit, and then head out to the Luxembourg Gardens. Just to see what's blooming there now in March.

 

 

(we seek out the corner with daffodils... yes! they're here!)

 

 

Afterwards, we stop at a store to get pj's for Sandpiper. Dont ask -- it's a long story. 

We have a dinner reservation for 7 p.m. but we're right by our chosen restaurant a half hour before that. As luck would have it, they're one of those places where they dont close between lunch and dinner. I can count such restaurants here on the fingers of one hand, and yet here we are, at Seulement Sea, at 6:30 and it's open. She loves this place for its oysters and fish and chips. It's one of those reliable eateries that wont cost a fortune and will deliver fresh seafood every time. 

We walk back with our jackets zipped to our chins! It's nippy in Paris! Just 50F/10C at its peak. Some would say -- well, that's entirely reasonable for March. And it is, though Paris has had warmer days on Spring Break. But I have no complaints! We were to have rain all days here -- now the weather people are changing their minds. And in any case, I have said this too often -- rain in Paris is fine. Interesting even. A little awkward if you walk the more populated streets, but I have very many quite corners in the city, where no one will feel an umbrella bump. 

We are home. 

 

 

 

Back in our room again. Warm, quiet, beautiful. Content. At peace.

with so much love... 

sunshine in Nice

You could think of this day as a culmination of sorts. All yearnings for spring, for warm sunshine and glorious skies realized at last. Certainly for our travels, it is the finest in a string of fine days. Temps soaring to 71F/22C, the sea showing off its splendid colors, our moods swelling with exuberance. 

It is also the last of the warm sunny days. And the end of our Nice visit. The final glory before the return to the typical highly erratic March weather. 

Let's not worry about what's to come. Right now, we are enjoying the best of the best.

 

 

What to do on a day like this? I offered two museums (Chagall, Matisse). Or, a walk through the old town and a revisit of the market. Or another excursion out of town. To Italy perhaps? To Cap Ferrat? Snowdrop chose the market and old town and I'm glad she did. It's my preference too. I want a repeat of the good rather than a new adventure. Finish off with known pleasures. Delight in what's nearby.

Breakfast first.

 

 

We always walk down the six flights, admiring and criticizing the art on the walls of this hotel. We like our fifth floor modern mix. We find the French Empire style floor to be okay. We positively hate the second floor abstract, depicting weird figures in what seem to be tortured poses.

Coming back up, we take the elevator. It dates back to the first years of the hotel and I tell her it is definitely haunted. Weird noises, creaks, groans -- definitely inhabited by a ghost. I dont think she believes me!

 

 

 

Our walk is lovely -- along the coast, always commenting on the dogs we pass, me noticing especially all the older folks with their pooches.

 

 

 

The market is of course popping with color on a sunny day.

 

 

 

 

 

We pick up some strawberries again (which she polishes off in five seconds on our return).

 

 

 

Snowdrop loved the artisanal ice cream shop in the old town. We return to it, and of course, I have to have that raspberry chocolate concoction. She stays with... chocolate!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We have only one errand: my reading glasses at home -- ones that I love, that I got at Izipizi in Paris one time, are held together by a paper clip. I need a replacement -- ones that are a bit stronger! And there is an Izipizi store here. She picks them out for me: dark green, gaga! They look great on you! Could I maybe get sunglasses here?

 

 

 

And home again. To the Negresco.

 

 

In time for her to catch the two hour swim period they allocate for kids.

With the late afternoon, I suggested we reconsider the art museum. Matisse is entirely doable in a short period and it offers a nice segue from the Impressionism to modern art. We taxi over with just time enough to go through it before it closes. (The museum is up in the hills and I am not looking for an hour long uphill walk!)

The museum itself is part of a beautiful villa -- not his home, but one close to it (He lived at the Hotel Regina for a chunk of his life and I should note also that he did call Nice his home for most of his adult years: the majority of his artwork was created in Nice). 

Did she like it? Some yes, some less so. Matisse's work with paper is totally agreeable.

And some paintings are also very approachable and appealing. 

Other stuff -- well, opinions vary!

 

 

 

(outside, the men play boules in the courtyard next to a mobile by Alexander Calder)

 

 

We walk back to our hotel -- a slightly shorter hike of 50 minutes. Oh, but the wind! Is it the Mistral? I don't know, but it surely is fierce, especially at the higher elevations. Still, we persevere!

 

And now I really have to motivate myself to pack. Not an easy job: our various trinkets, of course, but, too, we have to separate the stuff for Paris from the stuff for the washing machine back home. 

It's a slow process. And I have to pause for dinner. 

I'd picked Le Sejour some time ago and honestly, I do not remember why or on whose recommendation.

It was modern, it was crowded, with plenty of French people, it was fresh, it was great. Predictably, she ordered the sea bass. Second time today (she'd eaten a chunk of it at the hotel for lunch). Ah well, it's her favorite and she rarely (never?) gets it back in Madison.

Again, we skip the desserts and head for Amorino. 

 

 

Only for Snowdrop -- me, I have to plow through all the macaron the hotel gifted us. With a bottle of non-alcoholic wine, which I will pack up and take home.

Pack up... I haven't finished that job yet! Our bedtime will be pushed toward the late hour once again. But, as Snowdrop keeps reminding me -- it's vacation! Spring break!

Tomorrow, we head for Paris.

with so much love...