Last Nap in Paris

It's really hard to believe that the week has already passed.  By now, it's apparent that vacations like this are really just about eating and sleeping with some touristy crap tossed in when it works.

Yesterday, after the morning ritual of sitting at a café and having some caffeine, we were off to the Musee d'Orsay (the would be closed on Monday, so we really had no choice).  This last week has been oddly devoid of crowds.  That was not the case at the d'Orsay.  Every family in Paris spends Sundays at the museum, or so it would seem.  Fortunately, we invested in the Museum Pass (thanks, Rick Steves, for the advice.  While we could have seen more museums, the opportunity to skip the lines to get in was well worth the investment) and were inside in a breeze.  They did a tremendous job using an old train station on the Seine for a gallery of Impressionist art.

 

 

 

After a bit of culture, it was time for a bite.  The restaurant at the museum was art itself (as was the boeuf bourguignon)

The good news was that most of the crowds were obsessing over the Big Name Impressionist exhibit on the top floor and the featured exhibit on Henri Rousseau, affording us the chance to commune with some great art without the hassle of too many people with selfie-sticks (Cathy, no one pays attention to THAT rule!)

Last night, we took the advice of a friend who is a high school French teacher.  Kim has been to Paris dozens of times and finally took a dinner cruise on the Seine.  Loved it.  We decided to take a chance--despite the fear that it would be incredibly cheesy. We opted for a small, old boat called Le Calife.  It is moored 3 blocks from the hotel, across the Seine from the Louvre--beneath the Pont des Arts (they're still working at getting rid of those padlocks that 'lovers' put on the railings).
We boarded around 8:25 and were handed a kir royale and a plate of cheese gougeres (cheesy, yes, but in a good way).  We set sail at 8:50 and the show began.  Paris from the Seine really DOES look different.  The sun had just set when they served the foie gras.

By the time the main courses were being served, the building began to light up

We had already had our cheese course and were enjoying the tarte tatin when we arrived at the Eiffel Tower...and then the show began. (I cannot figure out how to imbed a gif file, so you'll just have to take my word for it...the light show is dazzling)

 

Our last day in Paris and we had one thing left on 'the list' that we'd never done. We'd never done it, of course, because I'm a nutcase and the thought of going to the top of the Eiffel Tower seemed like madness.  After a bit of a queue, we took two elevators and a stairway to reach the open air observation deck.  I wasn't comfortable, but it WAS impressive.  Looking down on Notre Dame made me laugh at how high it had seemed.

 

 

After the descent, it was, of course, time for a little lunch at a neighborhood brasserie, followed by the obligatory shopping.  The last nap is over and we're mulling over where we'll spend our last dinner in Paris (this time...we'll be back).  Tomorrow, Delta willing, we'll be home before sundown. Paris has again proved itself to be a spectacular place to visit.  Now, it's time to head down to the street and bid adieu to The Mayor...

Musee Jacquemart Andre

When we left the hotel on Saturday, there was a street market outside the door.  This guy was rapping the bottom of the country loaves with a knife handle to get rid of loose crumbs/crust.

The cheeses smelled great--the meats looked mighty tasty.  No sign of The Mayor...although I am sure he is a frequent visitor to the market.

After our streetside coffees, we were on a mission-to find the Jacquemart-Andre Museum.  We'd never heard of it before researching this trip.  Looked intriguing.  It's a simple, city home of the Andre family.

Simple, of course is relative.  The mansion is smaller than the chateau offices at Fontainebleu.  On the other hand, they're on the Boulevard Hausmann...not 30 miles away by train.  This couple took art collecting (and sharing)very seriously.  Their art is extraordinary and you see it where that had it placed. Of course, it's hard to move a mural by Tiepolo.

The music room featured a second floor gallery with padded railing--so you would be more comfortable watching the performers below, I presume.
 

The featured exhibition of the moment revolves around the impressionists who painted plein air in Normandy.  The Andre's own impressionist works were augmented with additional Monets, Pissaros, Coubert, Degas....you get the idea.  You can have nice things if you don't have kids.  Wait a second...

After the museum, we ambled down the boulevard to stop in at Au Printemps and Galeries Lafayette in search of neckties.  It's a bit off-putting (and, weirdly, assuring) that there are security agents at all entrances to the stores.  A brief wanding and you're through.

It was time for lunch so we walked to the Opera Garnier and had steak tartare at Café de la Paix and spent some time watching the crowd pass by before heading home for Le Nap.

Last night, we relied on TripAdvisor reviews for dinner.  I'm not sure how we ever travelled without TA, but I'm guessing we ate some really crappy meals. (not that we've encountered any here)  A little place around the corner, La Buca, had consistently high marks so we thought we'd give it a shot.  The reviews all mentioned that there are only 12 seats, so we thought we'd likely be turned away.  Not so!  Apparently, Parisiens entertain at home on Saturdays.  We were seated and the owner explained the specials--disappointing us that the veal was gone (we were there about 9:30).  After consulting the kitchen, he was back with the news that there would be veal after all.  He suggested an octopus in tomato sauce with giant caper berries and olives as an appetizer to split and we each had the veal with pancetta, Marsala and giant shavings of parmesan. I think I touched my tongue to the plate.  For dessert, Terry had what he claimed to be the best panna cotta ever and I had an orange cream/cake dessert that they called 'Sorrento'.  It was served in a canning jar and had limoncello drizzled on top.  I will be making this dish in the future.

Fontainebleu and The Mayor of Rue de Buci

We hopped on a morning train for the 30 minute trip out of Paris to Fontainebleu to see the palace.  The train drops you off on the edge of charming little town (Fontainebleu) and you hop on a bus that takes you closer to the main attraction.  You could probably walk, but we were saving our energy.  The place is massive.  Versailles massive.  1500 rooms massive.  Oddly, it's in downtown Fontainebleu. 

Take note of the massive crowd behind Terry.  This is the last we saw of them.

We usually opt for the audioguide at places like this.  While you could probably wander about aimlessly, it helped with putting into chronological order all the kings/queens/emperors who lived here over its 700 year stretch as a home.  The tour of the palace includes all the ceremonial rooms, private apartments of the royals, the chapels and, usually, the papal apartment (one should have a papal apartment in one's home).  Much of the palace's furniture survives.

This is not the ballroom.  THIS is:

This is the last time (almost) that we saw other visitors. Napoleon figures heavily here and he is responsible for returning furnishings to the palace for his crowning as emperor.

The room with the stools is the ladies' game room.  It is not set up for musical chairs.  Apparently, Marie Antoinette loved bingo.  This is not something that I have mis-translated, but something that I am quoting from the audioguide.  B-7!

Sure, you're probably noticing the splendor of the chapel.  What you SHOULD be noticing, however, is the young couple wearing 'period costumes' with their Nike tennis shoes.  They are not docents, but tourists.  Oddly, you are afforded the opportunity to don costumes to wear while touring the palace.  We opted for 'two middle aged guys from the midwest'.  We did not return the costumes when we finished our tour.

We stopped at a small café for mussels and fries before the train ride back to Le Nap.  Naturally, Terry topped off his meal with his usual:

 

Now, about the Mayor of Rue de Buci (our street).  It's a dog.  A bulldog.  Yes, a French bulldog.  The little guy has the run of the neighborhood.  He goes to the boulangerie by himself and gets treats.  He carries around a ball and insists that strangers play catch with him until they have to move on and he finds another playmate.  The other night, after dinner, we encountered The Mayor with a human companion, presumably walking home.  They reached a corner and the human wanted to turn.  The Mayor did not.  A stand-off!  After some reasoning...and I'm talking SERIOUS argument by the human...The Mayor shrugged his shoulders and followed him down the street.  He's already working the crowd on Rue de Buci today.

Last night, we had dinner at Roti en Face, the baby bistro by Jacques Cagna.  Terry had the chestnut potage and the house specialty--rotisserie chicken, while started with a slice of chicken liver terrine (paired with a coconut sauce!) and a yellow pollack and a small mold of paella with miniature shrimp. For dessert--fromage blanc with sour cherries and raspberry coulis for Terry and a Paris-Brest for me. 

Sculpture...everywhere

We started our second day with a leisurely breakfast in the hotel's breakfast room in the basement.  It's a lovely space, but it was impossible to not notice the pride with which the room's attendant took his responsibility.  After each and every guest visited the array of offerings, he would pass by and rearrange things so that no guest would ever approach a 'picked over' table. 

Then, it was off to Notre Dame.  I may not have mentioned this, but the world's smallest hotel room has a view of the towers of Notre Dame. Pics will never do justice to the majesty of the place.

Our museum pass affords us access to  the bell towers.  Why not visit? BECAUSE IT IS A MILE IN THE SKY, that's why.  St. Joan told me not to be a wuss.  One has to listen to Joan.

So up it was.  I mean,WAY up.  Fortunately, I didn't get a glimpse of where I was or I would never had made it.  (my phone let me know that I had reached my fitness goal for the day by mid-climb.)  I'll give Joan some credit.  It was worth it.  Amazingly uncrowded, there's a net keeping a semblance of safety for those of us with fear of heights.  MORE amazingly, they felt the need to put up signage telling people not to stick their selfie sticks through the net because...what could POSSIBLY go wrong?  The views were extraordinary.

 

We were atop the tower at noon.  The sound of the bells was incredible.  I am sure those arriving at the top of their climb at 1 feel cheated (yes, you...Cindy).  There were another couple opportunities to go higher.  One allowed you to climb a wooden staircase in the belfry up to the bells themselves.  Access to the climb was through a bizarrely short doorway.  Yes, you had to hunch over to get through it! Seriously!  We'll never know what was atop the other climb because Joan wasn't there to egg us on any further.  The descent was a breeze. After hitting the fitness goal for the day, it was off to lunch under some flowering trees at a café in Place St. Michel.  Yes, the chestnuts ARE in blossom:

 



I had a light lunch of escargots with garlic, butter and parsley (sopped up with great bread, of course) and a glass of Sancerre.  Terry had the croque monsieur.  While laughing at our good fortune and wondering how the moment could become more idyllic...an accordion player walking down the street started 'Le Vie en Rose'.

It was time to move on.  The Louvre it was.  We've been to the Louvre several times before.  It's overwhelming.  Fortunately, we had the museum pass that affords you access without waiting in line, so you can pop in for a focused visit as frequently as you want.  Sculpture it was to be.  Even that category is too broad, so we stuck with Italian, Greek and French works.  We were there hours.  What is noticeable, is that the crowds everywhere seem sparse...at least in most places.  There was a crowd to see this girl:

 



Last night, we had dinner at Le Petit Zinc--an Art Nouveau temple.  Terry had smoked salmon and steak with béarnaise.  I opted for white asparagus and mackerel, followed by a roast veal.  Despite being stuffed, dessert called.  Naturally, Terry had an assortment of ice creams garnished with 'fingers' of meringue.  I had the crepes Suzette.  We rolled back to the hotel to lapse into comas.

Cafe Society and Rodin

After an incredibly uneventful flight, we arrived in Paris (actually, it WAS eventful--there were fewer than 60 people in all on the flight...giving everyone room to stretch out to sleep using several seats!) and made it to the charming Hotel de Buci in the 6th Arrondisement on the Left Bank of the Seine.  GREAT location.  The hotel is one block from the Boulevard St. Germain, surrounded by dozens and dozens of cafes, restaurants and bistros and a 3 minute walk to the Seine.

Smallest room ever.  Hotel rooms in Paris are notoriously small.  This one takes it to a new level.  It's fantastic.  It feels like you're living in a jewelry box. The room itself is, maybe, 10 by 15. That's at the floor.  The ceiling is smaller since we're on the top floor and the Mansard roof slopes in quite a bit.  They have designed the space very thoughtfully--built-in cabinetry for storage, hidden minibar and coffee station and, surprisingly, plenty of storage.  That's a good thing, because you'd never be able to move around in the room comfortably if a suitcase (or extra pair of shoes) wasn't stowed away properly. The walls are upholstered with a WILD toile of aquamarine and lavender (it works)--and well-padded.

 

 

Of course, since we arrived in Paris at 8:30 in the morning, the room wasn't ready and we had time to kill.  Since it's Paris, we decided to sit at a café and talk about it.  There's something about sitting in the sun, having a coffee, eating a flaky croissant...that is so, well, French.  So, after pondering what to do to kill time until we could have Le Nap--and watching the brasserie across from the café set up their fresh fish display--we decided to hoof it to the Rodin Museum.

 

It's a pretty amazing place (made moreso by the fact that we'd never visited it before). Once walking through the gates to the mansion and garden, it's SILENT.  You know that you're in Paris, mind you--it's hard to miss the dome of Les Invalides and the Eiffel Tower--but you don't really hear any of Paris going on about you.  The gardens are beautiful (and starting to really turn green---tulips and daffodils everywhere) and filled with Rodin's monumental bronzes.  Sure, you've seen The Thinker bookends, but there's something about seeing it in this setting that seems better. (yeah, probably because it's Paris)

 

  

 



Of all the sculptures, my favorite was Balzac...and not just for the name.  You have to love any monument that features a guy in a bathrobe.  Sure...they CLAIM it's a monk's robe that he like to wear when he wrote, but I've seen Rodin's plaster cast for the robe and, if my rudimentary knowledge of French hasn't failed me, it is called Bedroom Robe.

So, after all this culture, it was time to see if the room was ready.  We sauntered down the Boulevard St. Germain, past dozens and dozens of cafes (including Café Flore and Deux Magots) filled with tourists, Parisians and their pets all watching all of Paris go by.  The room was ready and it was time for Le Nap.  Le Nap is la tradition when we're on vacation. 

For dinner, we opted for Vagenende. It was the first restaurant we dined in during our first trip to Paris together--almost 18 years ago.  Hasn't changed.  Technically, it probably hasn't changed since 1890.  Tile, mirrors, brass, polished wood and a warm welcome by the host.  A shared charcuterie and some tasty food from Alsace (Terry had the choucroute, I had the veal kidneys in mustard sauce--everything served in the banged up copper cookware in which it was made)--followed by dessert and all washed down with a cote de Rhone--made for a perfect ending to a perfect first day in a perfect city.

Day two is just starting, the café tables and chairs are being hauled back out to the sidewalks, people are walking their dogs, delivery men are hauling carts laden with potatoes to restaurants, locals are fetching bread (yeah, it's trite...but it's trite for a REASON--their bread is just better) and the street sweepers are using their giant brooms to ready the city for another day.