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.