Last Day

Why do people ask me for directions? Do I look like I know where I'm going?  Today, I gave directions to a Chinese guy who was trying to find the flower market. I knew where that was since I was just coming from there. As for me, I had to ask myself--how hard is it to follow the Amstel?  It's a river and therefore, the widest canal. But somehow, I got sidetracked by an inferior canal.  I didn't go too far out of my way but I had to consult my map which should have been unnecessary.

It was the coldest day I've had so far but I walked to the Jewish History Museum which is a great museum; glad I didn't miss it. It's made up of 4 old synagogues which they've connected and traces the history of the Jewish community in Amsterdam since the 1600s. What I liked about this museum and also the Anne Frank are the interactive computer screens that you can use to choose interviews or explanations of different things.  The attendants insisted I take a free audioguide. I don't use audioguides. My fear is I'd look like the people I saw at the Louvre--30 people listening to an audioguide while looking at a painting; all 30 turn at the same time to look at another picture while listening to their audioguides.  I took the audioguide but I didn't like it.

Across the street in Waterlooplein is a gigantic flea market that has existed for over 100 years although they used to sell food and essentials back in the day. Today, they sell typical flea market items--clothes, purses from Italy, tourist souvenirs, hash pipes and cannabis lollipops.  From the number of bikes, I could tell the locals shop there. Really, some nice stuff and good used clothing.

After a final attempt to eat lunch at Singel 404--I've tried everyday for 3 days because it's supposed to have the best sandwiches in town--I gave up and went to McDonald's since it is my civic duty to try a McDonald's in all capitol cities of the world. They had loads of people working there--fastest service ever. And I got a Big Mac and small coke for only $7. I guess you have to pay extra for the Irish beef they use and cokes, of course, are more expensive here because they use sugar, not corn syrup. Like in China, they had "more seats upstairs" but in this case, there was at least another floor above the one I went to. Unlike China, no one grabs your tray as soon as you're finished and I had to carry it downstairs to the Dank U bin.

It's Saturday so the city is full of people--I could barely get in and out of my door (in the Magic Mushroom picture, my door is not the one with stairs, but behind the postcard racks.  On the Amstel, I saw two boats full of college-age girls singing karaoke. On the Spui (which the Dutch insist rhymes with "cow"), I saw the pedalsaloon which was all men drinking beer at a bar, pedaling it around the city.  When I looked up their website, I saw that Denver has the same attraction.

I walked up to the Dam one last time, figuring something would be happening. There were horrible singers in the middle of the square, under an "Occupy" sign. It was unclear what was being occupied since there were signs for the "Spanish Revolution."  The street performers here have really been a disappointment. Accordion is popular. Also, fewer than what I've usually seen in Europe. The best to me are in Poland where there's a virtuoso violinist on every street corner since no one has a job.

Finally, I tried to eat at Nes 41 which is another recommended restaurant but everyone must read both Rick Steves and Johnny so it was packed. Some British women behind me were rushing to their reservation at the next restaurant down the street so I figured I'd give that a try. The place is huge inside but I was lucky to get in without a reservation--it was packed by the time I left. I had meant to try the white asparagus dish in Belgium but didn't so I had that. I think there's several variations but mine had ham, a hard-boiled egg, fingerling potatoes, melted butter.  Very tasty.

Tomorrow I head back to the Paris airport; leaving Monday morning to go home.  I had booked this round trip ticket before I knew where I was going. I should have changed the departure to Amsterdam but didn't think about it. So, it's a train to Paris Nord; train to CDG; shuttle to my hotel.  A long travel day but I'm sure the most difficult part will be getting my suitcase down these stairs.  So not the end of my journey, but the end of the blog.  See you in the US!  And Happy Mother's Day, Mom! (and you other moms, too).

Bread at Last

Tonight I kind of ate in a restaurant recommended by Rick Steves for a traditional Dutch meal. My landlady listed another place but it's far away. Rick says this restaurant is so big, it hosts tour groups. Still, because it's famous, it's best to make a reservation. I got turned away and they wouldn't let me eat outside because it's too cold which is ridiculous since every other restaurant was serving outside. On the other hand, it was freezing. But, they said, go to the bar two doors down and you get basically the same food.  Basically?  They carried it from the restaurant.  I got the traditional poor man's meal, hutspot,  which is mashed potatoes with carrots in them, a big meatball, sausage, bacon and pickles and onions on the side. And real bread with butter. I knew it existed somewhere. It was the best meal I've had in Amsterdam.

  Then I walked to Rembrandt square for apple pie. I sat in one of the only outside areas with heaters.  Since every restaurant seems to have more outside than inside tables, I'm surprised no one has heaters, like every other civilized country in Europe. It's Friday night so there were loads of people meeting for a drink after work.  That's on every square--and there's a square at the end of every street.

The Dutch are just different. For one thing, I don't know why they insist on speaking Dutch when they all know English anyway. I checked their bicycles, too. They have no gears and they're all old and ratty. Most of them don't have a basket in the front; instead, they have wire racks in the front and back where they bungee their purchases. They might have a kid seat with a kid in it; meanwhile, they're talking on their cell phones, holding an umbrella over their heads, balancing some tulips, and maybe holding a leash for the dog running beside them. They're not as talented as the Chinese who can move furniture on a bike, but they're good. Meanwhile, there are very few crosswalks in this town which means pedestrians have to watch out for bikes, cars, and trams in order to cross the street.

I felt obligated to take a picture of Rembrandt on Rembrandt square since we share the same birthday (mine is a few years after his). The other picture is the flower market right in front of my apartment. You would think it would be bustling early in the morning with deliveries, but no--the people just open up their "garage doors" about 9 or 10 and close them at 6. The street is packed with tourists and I can't understand why. Who has room to take home a lot of bulbs. Plus, every one of these places has a website. And just what's so special about Dutch gladiolas anyway? Tulips, maybe, but bonsai trees?

Navigating Amsterdam

I was doing so well...the streets here are very long but unlike Paris, they keep sort of the same name and with my handy map, I hadn't been lost once...until yesterday.

I should have known it was going to be a bad direction day when I was walking just two blocks away to find the canal cruise Rick Steves recommends.  Where can it be? I thought and then it occurred to me that the canal cruise will be on the canal, not on the street and found it. This was a covered boat and a really nice one hour cruise that even takes you out to the canal that leads to the North Sea.  There's a new building in the big shipping area called Nemo which looks like a ship. It was designed by the same architect who designed the Pompidou in Paris. It houses a kids' science museum. There were only 7 people on my boat and it's the cheapest tour in town so another good recommendation from that guidebook.  An interesting fact was the explanation for the skinny houses in Amsterdam--you were taxed on the width that was on the street. So the fronts are narrow with these narrow steps but the backs are extended. Also, the guide showed us the hooks at the top of the houses to move furniture through the windows. I can understand that since I can't even maneuver my suitcase on these stairs.

Rick said to go to the Anne Frank house after 6 (open until 8) so I got there at 6.  I walked right to it except I was on the other side of the street which, in this city,  means the other side of the canal.  There was construction on one sidewalk so I looked ahead and saw a bridge and was finally able to say those famous words "I'll cross that bridge when I come to it."

There was a line but it wasn't so crowded once we all got inside. I was surprised to see how many floors we walked up--I don't know why I was surprised since all these buildings are 4-5 stories.  The stairs were more narrow than mine here in this apartment and I actually had to look down to see how to place my feet. I won't pretend to explain how moving this experience is but I will say this: having seen it, it is easy to imagine how they hid for two years and second, making a museum was the right thing to do.

I had decided to walk back the same way I came when I was stopped by a Brit who was trying to get to the Dam. I knew exactly how he should go and gave him directions. I was going the same way but somehow missed my street (who knows where he ended up). To make a long walk story short, I somehow ended up walking in a big circle (it's that right vs. left thing) and then I knew I was totally turned around. I knew all these streets but I didn't know which way to go on them. Finally, I asked someone and it turned out I was going in the correct direction so I made it home.  I ate at the Sampurna just a few doors down from my apartment. Johnny sent me there for sandwiches, but of course, it's an Indonesian restaurant. I don't know what I ate for dinner but the vanilla ice cream with ginger was really good.

The Rijksmuseum

Seriously? The Dutch should be embarrassed to charge anyone money to go to the only part of the museum that's open, The Phillips Wing. I looked online and there was a comment about how surprising it is that the admission (14 Euro) is the same as for the Van Gogh Museum but the Van Gogh is so much smaller--this will be true when the Rijksmuseum actually completes the remodeling, but at present, it should be free. I thought maybe I missed a wing so I came home and read my brochure and it says there are 400 of the best Dutch paintings--they should add "5 of which are halfway famous."  I did like the story of Rembrandt's Night Watch that said when it was moved from one museum to another, it didn't fit so they lopped off 3 feet of it.

Luckily, my museum karma was working because there was a very short line at the real museum, the Van Gogh--the line was huge when I left. The museum is gorgeous and it has not only Van Gogh but also art by his contemporaries and friends. My favorite painting was the Gauguin painting of Van Gogh painting "Sunflowers." They also have a great collection of programs and posters by Toulouse-Lautrec and other artists.

The Dutch should also be embarrassed that they have no decent bread but that's another story. I guess they think the waffles make up for it.

I've been through two rainy cities but it wasn't until here that I developed horrible sinus headaches. I got up yesterday at 6 and took an aspirin I bought in Bruges and about an hour later, I was really sick.  Then I remembered I can't tolerate aspirin, at least not on an empty stomach, which is why I try to get a coated or buffered kind. On my long walk to the museums, I looked for a pharmacy but again...another city that doesn't believe in drugs (?). I found a little store that sells aspirin and a clerk told me to go to the pharmacy on the Dam. So later that afternoon, I walked to the Dam and saw a crowd of people at the square. I rushed over, in case it was a protest I needed to be part of, but everyone was taking pictures of fancy people getting out of fancy cars at the Royal Palace.  Since I have no shame, I asked a policeman what we were watching and he said a dinner party for the queen with ambassadors attending. Then I asked him where the pharmacy was and he told me. I know he knew it was closed (5:30) but I walked there anyway and saw a sign that said their other location is open 23 hours a day.  I actually knew the street it was on so I walked there, just to be told by the pharmacist that coated aspirin exists but they don't sell it.  The pharmacy was packed which should be a clue that stores should stay open later than 5 or 6.

My experience in all three of these cities is all meals are huge. I don't like a big breakfast but I hadn't found a store until just now so I had to eat in restaurants. All omelets, fried eggs or scrambled eggs orders are made of 3 eggs.  This morning, I  asked if I could cut down the order.  She did but I got 2 eggs, sunny-side up, sitting on buttered Wonder bread (actually, the bread wasn't that good), with tomato, cucumber and some weird greens on top of that.  I took off all the greenery--I was afraid it had come from the Magic Mushroom.

Vertrek

Vertrek means departure in some language. There's a reason it's on your train ticket--it tells you what time the train leaves.  I had convinced myself I was taking the 11:42 from Bruges but that was the time it arrived in Antwerp had I taken the 10:18. So, I took the 11:18 and got to Antwerp at 12:42 for a 1:00 train to Amsterdam but turns out, it had been cancelled. "As usual" is what the lady in the store told me when I asked her to translate what happened to my train. I had to hang around Antwerp Central for over an hour and that is when I quit being enamored of European rail travel.  BTW, outside the station is one diamond store after another and there's even one in the station, next to a sandwich shop.

I saw beautiful, new double-decker trains going somewhere but the train I got was old and dumpy. It was crowded, even in 1st class, because the last train had been cancelled. I had to sit with my luggage in a single seat while everyone else spread out in the two-seaters.  After an hour, the conductor came to stamp tickets and threw out a couple in the wrong class so I got a better seat. It was still miserable.

I know I'm in the land of the double vowel but riding trains has made me wonder whether it's double prepositions, also.  As you approach a new station, you get this message on the marquee--We komen aan in Antwerpen.  I translate that as "We coming on into Antwerp," but I'm not sure that's correct.

So made it to Amsterdam; a little warmer here but still rainy.  My instructions were to get my apartment keys from the tourist shop and that my door is next to The Magic Mushroom.  Admit you always wanted to say "I live next to The Magic Mushroom." They sell psycho-active drugs, teas, seeds, etc. and are open later than other stores which close promptly at 6.  When I walked by, they were playing "Whiter Shade of Pale." So nothing has changed since I was here 40 years ago.

This apartment is the best one I've ever rented in Europe.  It has a real bedroom, bathroom, and living room/kitchen with two couches and a couple of comfortable chairs. It is literally in the middle of the flower district so the views are great.  The stairs are very narrow and steep and turn a corner but luckily, my landlady had left a man to show me the apartment so I made him carry up my suitcase.  If worse comes to worse, I'll just throw it down the stairs when I leave.

My cab driver said there are 16 million people in Amsterdam and 20 million bikes. I asked him if there were a lot of accidents and he said some but mostly tourists who don't know what they're doing. These bikes are parked everywhere.  I do live one street away from the famous pedestrian only street, though, so I feel safe from traffic there. The problem is, it's their designer shopping street so there's no real reason to go there.

And that's it, for starters.

Vaarwal Bruges: Dank U

I'm so glad no one took a video of me attempting to wash my hair in the gigantic bathtub--it would not get too many hits on Youtube. First of all, they should provide a ladder to get into the tub; it has to be four feet high. I cannot wash my hair holding one of those shower wands, so I filled the tub and used that wand to rinse my hair and also soak the entire bathroom.  It was like an episode of I Love Lucy.

I took Lola's advice and went for the traditional Belgian waffle with banana and chocolate sauce for my second breakfast.  I visited the buildings on the main squares and I believe that picture of the cathedral is now in City Hall--anyway, it was stunning. It's hard to know where you are because the names on the buildings don't match the names on the map.

Then for lunch, I ate the traditional Belgian burger and fries--this burger also had two patties, like in Paris, but the meat was cooked. The double deep fried fries are very good and I prefer mayonnaise over ketchup as a general rule.  For dinner, Johnny finally came through with a suggestion--Portoromano, the traditional Portugal/Belgium restaurant that plays all-the-time Elvis Presley where I had their traditional moules/frites.

I hadn't tried the traditional appletaarte and after I ate dinner, I had an idea--go to the square and have dessert there. I decided it's an idea to live by--never eat dessert where you ate dinner.  That's why the Europeans are thin--they walk 3 miles to dinner; then walk another 3 miles for dessert. So, I ate the traditional apple tart with ice cream and whipped cream and...hot chocolate. Another brilliant idea--I didn't want coffee so late at night so why not the traditional hot chocolade?  It was delicious.

It is easy to find restaurants, lace,beer, and chocolate in Bruges. What is difficult to find is a pharmacy. Apparently, taking drugs is not very traditional here.  I needed aspirin and have been looking for a pharmacy as I walked around each day but never saw one.  Finally, I had to be proactive and actually look them up. There are 2 listed in my B&B book, one of which is now a burger place. I finally found one. You have to ask the pharmacist for what you want--she had two types of aspirin; one to dissolve in water and then the tablet variety. I kept telling her I wanted tablets but she took out the dissolvable ones to show me and explain again how they work.  I ultimately decided on the tablets.

Finally, I partook of the traditional Belgian pastime of letting cat in the window.  It might not be traditional for all people, but it certainly is for this cat.

Adorable & Charming

This city is so adorable, you just want to take a picture of every building, every bridge, every swan. That is, in the historic section--the new section is full of brand name clothing stores.  There's a house for sale that was built in 1675--it's on a canal and very nice. Only 1.5 million euros.

No this is not a famous picture I took in one of the museums.  It's in my room.  Yes, you got it, they gave me the chicken room.  Meanwhile, the cat keeps coming to my window to be let in--I'm on the second floor so I wonder how he gets on the roof.   I don't really know if these owners want him in the house since I never see the owners.  I saw a maid today and explained to her the light was out in the bathroom. She thought I was a stupid American who couldn't use the fancy light switch but then noticed that the lightbulb needed to be changed.

Today was supposed to be all-the-time museums since they'll all be closed on Monday but we actually had sun for a brief period so I took a canal tour. I did see a lot of museums.  In the first one, I got in cheap for being over 60. I was so impressed by the colors in the 15th century paintings (these artists were the first to mix colors with linseed oil) that I asked a guard whether some of them had been retouched.  The answer was yes and that's when I got busted...for having a bottle of water and an umbrella.  In the second museum, the woman decided I was over 65 and gave me a discount but the girl in the 3rd museum wasn't buying it and charged me full fare.  My favorite art today was an exposition I stumbled across--seriously, there was a sign that said "Congratulations. You have found this special exhibit"--of Picasso and Joan Miro.  It was a great exhibit and I especially liked the Chagall room which wasn't even mentioned in the advertisement.

Beginning at the train station yesterday, I discovered that it costs 50 cent to use the bathroom.  I haven't paid for bathrooms since Poland.  This is just in public areas--museums and restaurants don't charge. I find that very expensive especially when one stall was Gebuiken.  Also, often there's no separate rooms for men and women--they figure if you have a private stall, that's good enough. And...they may or may not give you a paper towel for your 50 cent.  Often, there's just an old towel sitting around for everyone to use.

I had a Croque Monsieur for lunch today which was a grilled ham and cheese just like I would make at home. Seriously--white bread with grill marks on it, much like I get from using an iron.  To make up for the fact it wasn't nearly as good as the ones in Paris, they gave me two.   I find all meals here all the time about twice as big as they need to be.  I realize Europeans don't eat every meal in a restaurant, but these portions are huge. I had the famous Belgian spaghetti bolognaise for dinner--can't help it; I have a hurty tooth.  It was very different from the one Nicole had in Paris. Tasty but it could have fed a family of four.  And that's why I haven't had a Belgian waffle yet. I'm too embarrassed to order dessert when I don't clean my plate.

Train Travel

As I suspected, I was able to get the 11:25 train to Brussels even though I was buying the ticket at 11:10. The woman looked at me and decided I needed a first class ticket at the senior rate. As it turns out, that was the best decision--not because I can't fight the masses for a seat or I need free wi-fi (it wasn't working today anyway) or the free snacks. The reason is, I can't handle my luggage.  There are only about 6 people in each car of first class so you can just roll your luggage in with you--I can't lift it onto the overhead bins.

I had forgotten how cool train travel is in Europe; such a smooth ride with comfortable seats.  I got to see some cows of Belgium. Also horses. My only problem was not being able to find the trains--my train from Brussels had a number, 533.  That was on my ticket--no where else did that number appear.  I figured out how to find out which track I was supposed to go to...but where are the tracks? I mean, there were no directions posted, in any language. I wasn't looking for English--I would have settled for Flanderese, German, French.  Nothing.  I finally asked a security guard or I might still be at the station.

There's many lovely things about my B&B in Bruges, but the bathroom isn't one of them. The bathroom is nice but it's not in my room...it's down 1/2 a staircase.  I was sure I had checked this out ahead of time because I hate the shared bathroom idea but when I looked around my room, I saw a sink but no bathroom.  Finally, I found a sign that said the bathroom down 1/2 the staircase is my personal, private bathroom and they have given me a robe in case I want to shower and then wander around. The bed is huge and comfortable and it has two bedside reading lamps.

I don't know how I'll get my suitcase down these narrow stairs when I leave; when I arrived, the maid who is a young, robust girl carried it up the stairs for me. My suitcase weighs about 35 lbs, so not the allowed 50 lbs. but I'm not strong enough to carry it. Rolling it on cobblestones is not fun, either.

When I arrived, a large black and white cat decided it wanted to live with me. I let him in while I unpacked and he settled at the foot of the bed but I figured he needed to go out when I left. He was angry about it and I had to physically put him out of the room.

This is a charming little city.  But look up a map online...since it was built in 1300 or whatever, the streets are very tiny. Plus, the names are weird.  Luckily, I went out of the B&B, turned right and walked right to the square so for once, my instincts were correct.   I can now get home from the Bell Tower and since you can see it from all over the city, it's a great landmark.  I had "rabbit in the Flemish style" for dinner--it turned out that Flemish style is a gravy with onions and prunes which it says right in my guidebook had I bothered to read it.

It is freezing here.  Had I done my research, I would have noticed it sometimes reaches 70 degrees in July and August but is cold and rainy the rest of the year. This cotton scarf isn't doing it--everyone is still wearing wool.

I haven't bought any chocolate yet but checked out the shops.  They make chocolate in the shape of anything--including body parts.  Quite a window display.

Au revoir, Paris

I am not tired of Paris, but Paris has left me bone tired.  Too much excitement and walking. I'm hoping the next two legs of my journey will be more peaceful. I'm off to Brugge tomorrow if I get a train. Since I didn't buy a ticket ahead of time, I just have to go whenever there's a seat available.

  The pictures are of Nicole's digs and one of her pairs of new trendy shoes.  She lives at Cite Universite which, from what I gather on Wikipedia, is just a huge residential complex housing students and visiting academics.  There's a different building for each country and many are designed in that country's architectural style. I think Nicole lives in the French-Canadien house. The place is gigantic, has its own park, and its own Metro stop.

Last night I took a train to where Trapdoor was performing in Velizy which took about an hour. I did manage to catch the three trains I needed to get there. That small city has a beautiful new theater where they usually host operas but for the performance, they curtained off a few hundred seats. Their last performance of this tour is tonight. Nicole was going to have to travel with props but they are leaving everything here because they've been invited back next summer for a short run of the same show.  Catherine Deneuve did go to a performance when this play was performed in France but she hasn't managed to make it to the American version.

Finally, after all this time, I found the hot spot of my neighborhood,, St. Honore Square.  I had dinner at L'Absinthe-it came highly recommended by Mappy. Yeah, that's why I went.  It's about two blocks from here but the way I went, it was an 8 mile trip.  This wasn't my fault, though...really.  Mappy assumes you know when one street becomes a street of another name.  Of course, I had already packed away my map so I had to ask the waiters how to get back--only one out of three knew and the street I wanted is literally 2 blocks away.

I had a manicure today--I didn't spring for the French one; in fact, I didn't spring for a full manicure. Just a polish change--12 euros.  The color I got is "Pink Champagne."

My final analysis of food in Paris is this:  I've had some mediocre entrees but never a bad dessert.

The Metro

I know this Metro system like the back of my hand now.  That is, if the Metro map were tattooed on the back of my hand. I've always done so much better with underground directions than surface ones. Today my plan was to walk on the Champs Elysees so I got off one stop before the Arc de Triomphe which was great because as I walked out, I saw the Louis Vuitton store (had to take a picture for my hairdresser who has 35 Louis Vuitton bags) and also the Lido where I once saw the show plus one drink for $5.  Show and drink now is 70 Euro and no, $5 wasn't like $100 back then; more like $20. 

Luckily, I'm not tempted by shopping in my old age and Nicole was working, so I just walked on the street, ate a cheeseburger (two patties, raw meat) and fries, (I was sure that's what the French would do), and walked to the Helmut Newton exhibit. No line. I'm so glad I didn't go on Sunday because the exhibit isn't huge and you wouldn't be able to see anything with that crowd of people. It was fabulous--Jackie O, Elizabeth Taylor, Andy Warhol pictures besides all the fashion shots.  We weren't allowed to take pictures (I asked a guard; he looked at me like I had 3 heads) which was ridiculous because all the pictures were in glass frames.

I had seen the Eiffel Tower from all over the city and have no desire to stand in line to go to the top but I did go to Place Trocadero for a great view.  

I know I am fooling myself by taking the metro to places I could walk to--my body is aching from going up and down stairs. I keep thinking I should walk above ground instead but then I would get lost.  Like I did tonight trying to return from an Indian restaurant where I've already been once.  I got there but got totally turned around when I came out.  After walking 2 blocks, I had to return to the restaurant and start over--it's the one time I didn't have the map with me.  The Metro wasn't an option--the restaurant is only 4 blocks away.

I Love a Parade

Like the time we managed to be in two St. Patrick's Day parades in Ireland, Nicole and I observed two political rallies today, one on each side.  First, Marine Le Pen was giving a speech close to the Opera so just a block away this morning, we saw a parade of her supporters marching to the Opera. It was very orderly (see above).  Because it's May Day and many places were closed, we figured a lot of people would be at the parks, just like our Labor Day. So we took a walk in the Tuileries to see what French families were doing and it was packed. Still, you could find a table at an outdoor cafe, but the ice cream line was out of control.

We had decided earlier not to try the Luxembourg Gardens since we didn't want to ride the crowded Metro and figured it would be more packed than other gardens...so why did we end up taking the Metro to Bastille? Well, I blame Johnny but then, I blame him for everything. He had recommended Bofinger for a meal and we knew it was open, so we decided to go and walk around the area before having an early dinner. There was a huge--blocks and blocks--contemporary art fair/sale that we walked around for awhile and then went shopping. There were actually a few boutique stores open so Nicole could buy her 3rd pair of shoes in the last two days. Shoes are tres trendy here in France.

The Gauche were having a parade to Place de La Bastille which we noticed before dinner. The streets were full of people and all the cafes were packed.  We had a lovely dinner at Bofinger's, but when we got out, the atmosphere seemed a little tense.  When we saw the gendarme putting on riot gear, we decided we should get out.  The Metro was more crowded than I had ever seen, so once we were within walking distance, we got off.   I don't think there was any trouble at the rally, but then I can't read the French news.

Last night, we went to another Johnny recommendation, Au Pied de Cochon. We had to wait for a table, even though the place is huge. The waiter wouldn't let me order the Pig's Foot Special (the Trotter). He said I wouldn't like it because it was mostly fat and decided I should have stuffed pork. I'm sure I was there back in 1970 for French Onion Soup--it's been open since 1947.  It's open 24/7 but when we left after 11:30, I was shocked that people were waiting to be seated for midnight dinner.

The best surprise of the day (besides the fact I actually made the washing machine wash AND dry clothes) was that it didn't rain. Not once. Not a sprinkle.  It wasn't the first day I didn't take my umbrella but it was the only day I didn't need it.

Last night, the young people went salsa dancing on a canal boat; I went watching salsa dancing on the canal boat. I have no idea where we were but I know Arondissement 19. The views from the boat were stunning. The metro closes at 1 a.m., so we had to make a mad dash to catch the last trains.

Earlier, I went to the Petit Palais which is a lovely building; the art isn't the greatest but no long lines; plus, it's free.  The top picture is from the interior garden.  Across the street is the Grand Palais which is having a Helmut Newton exhibit; the line was too long for me to tolerate so I'm hoping to go back another time.

Today, Nicole and I went on an accidental shopping extravanganza in Montmartre. Sure, you can take the funicular up to Sacre Coeur but the 8000 stairs up from the metro is like climbing the mountain. It was the nicest day I've had in Paris. Of course, it sprinkled later in the afternoon, but it was a great day for touring that area.  We had no idea the shops would be so good--vintage clothing and second hand shops besides the trendy places. We bought matching sweaters which we plan never to wear in the same city or at the same time--hey, it was a bargain. Also, for lunch we had one of the best meals (3 courses) that we've had--right on the main street leading to Sacre Coeur; usually, I don't trust those touristy places but this was great.

Again, I got the old lady discount for the Dali museum in Montmartre, a savings of 4 euros. Not the best Dali museum I've ever seen, but interesting. 

Old is Good

The weather forecast for today was rain every hour but I was lucky enough to miss it in the morning. My plan was to go to the Musee de L'Orangerie so I walked there except I ended up at Jeu de Paume (oh come on, they're right across from each other). I don't know that museum and don't carry a guide book but I noticed they had a Weiwei exhibit that is closing tomorrow. There was a long line so I walked over to L'Orangerie. That had a long line too but it moved fairly quickly. I certainly can see why people buy tickets in advance; you just walk into all the museums.  L'Orangerie is a delightful museum--it has three round rooms full of Monet's Water Lilies. Not his best ones which are in New York, but some ok ones.  Also a lot of Renoir, Cezanne, Rousseau, etc.  Because I had energy, I walked back to Jeu de Paume where there was no line, and got a 3,5 Euro discount for being old.  The Weiwei was incredible--pictures from when he was in New York in 1987, video installations, some of his Twitter collection which he started when his blog was taken down.  The other photographer on display was Berenice Abbott who I didn't know but people who know photography do, I'm sure. There were great pictures of New York in the 20s and 30s--my understanding is she was a famous architectural photographer.

I also found out today that where I live is depicted in a Toulouse-Lautrec painting called "Salon de la rue des Moulins" which was at 6 Rue des Moulins (I'm at 8).. Just like my landlady said, my room was part of that brothel, called The White Flower, before it was closed.  So if you ever see that painting, you can say, "I know someone who stayed there."

Morning rain

It rained only briefly this morning.  Therefore, I went to everyone's favorite museum--d'Orsay. The line was long so I sat at a cafe to watch it get smaller and also watch the guards with their machine guns. They wouldn't bother me if the guns were hanging by their sides, but they are always holding them straight out, like they're ready to shoot.  Every museum has the same sign about pickpockets so I always get an image of screaming "pickpocket" and watching a guard gun him down.

As I sat at the cafe, I saw a Yike Bike. They're probably big in the States, too, but I've never seen one. It is a motorized bike with a huge front tire and tiny back tire--the handle bars wrap around your back. I knew it was a Yike Bike because those words were printed on the side of it.  I also saw a sushi delivery guy on a regular bike.

Waiting around for the line to get smaller has been working out for me fine. The lines move fast and are slow only because they search your bags inside. I don't know why young people have to carry a gigantic backpack to the museum--it takes a long time to search. No one ever bothers with me and my tiny purse.

Lola would have so snatched up the Italian baby who sat next to me at dinner tonight. I almost snatched him and I don't even like babies.  The couple, their baby, and the grandparents were out to dinner. The baby was in a stroller that carried a huge bag underneath (maybe they brought his playpen?) and he was zipped up in plastic even though it wasn't raining.  I saw a lot of that when I was in China--shrink-wrapped babies.  How do they breathe?  Anyway, the grandparents tried to interact with this child but he only had eyes for the crazy American lady.  I had a wonderful meal there at Le Vin Qui Chante, the only French restaurant in blocks of Japanese restaurants.  This is Little Japan, not matter what Nicole's director says.

Monna Lisa

I headed straight for the Monna Lisa, as the French say.  Why? Because as soon as you walk in, all signs point the way so I knew I wouldn't get lost. You're familiar with the Monna Lisa--it's that picture of that woman with 30 Japanese photographers in front of her snapping pictures. I have never understood why people take pictures of pictures--get an art book.  Plus, the Monna Lisa is in the Italian painting wing and as everyone knows, Botticelli rocks.

The Louvre is the most confusing museum on earth. I know I'm easily lost but the maps don't make sense--they do when you're actually on the floor but getting to the next floor is often a problem.  I was impressed at the wide variety of food they had there, including a Starbucks in the museum (McCafe is across the street.) So, I ate lunch there.  There is probably no great time to go (maybe Friday nights at 8), but today wasn't bad at all, probably because it was the only non-rainy day in a week and everyone was on a boat ride on the Seine. There were a lot of school groups there but they were all French kids and hence, well-behaved.  After seeing the museum, I wanted to just sit  outside by the Seine which I did and I would have paid $100 for a coke.  Luckily, it was only $7 which is the going rate for a 16 oz. bottle at most cafes and restaurants. That gave me enough energy to make it home.

I read on the internet that some guy, over several weeks, walked into every room in the museum, timing himself. He didn't stop and look at anything, just walked into each room.  It took 60 hours.

Tonight, I went back to the Johnny recommended restaurant that I claimed was closed.  I blame the jet lag and the fact I was looking for the address of 28 directly across the street from address 29.  When I walked further tonight, I noticed the restaurant, Royal Vendome, does exist--it's directly across from address 35. I had chicken and french fries.  I don't know why the French are so in love with French fries--it's my understanding that they didn't invent them.

Pompidou

The Pompidou was not built the last time I was here...but then, modern art wasn't invented yet either.  The building is spectacular and the view from the top (3 E just to go to the top) is magnificent (see Eiffel Tower shot).  One of the exhibitions was Matisse--not a big fan so I didn't care. Nicole likes video art (whatever the name for that is) so we did like that exhibit. This museum is one of the more civilized ones, being open until 10 every night. Actually, most museums are open that late one night a week at least. An afternoon trip was perfect--I was happy with my first crepe and cafe au lait.  After the museum, I had paella at a Spanish restaurant.  I am starting to think the French are tired of French cuisine.  I am convinced Nicole had beef tongue with her couscous but she pretended it was prime rib.

I am confessing that I do use the towel warmer to dry my clothes. For some reason, I actually believed this washer/dryer combo would dry clothes but what "dry" means is you don't have to hand wring them. I am sure using the towel warmer is against the law but wet clothes do not dry overnight in this damp environment.

Other than that and changing from a 9 E seat to a 12 E seat at the Opera, I think I have been a law-abiding tourist.  Tomorrow is the Louvre, though, so stay tuned.

My night at the Opera (House)

Apparently, I have no control over where the pictures go in these posts.

 I have just returned from the Opera House, not the one that has operas, but the one that has ballets. I had found out that the ballet seats are usually sold out except for the cheap ones so I decided to pay 9 or 12 euros instead of paying 9 euros for a tour of the Opera Garnier, figuring I could always leave if the ballet wasn't good (seriously--I had that thought) and see the Opera House by way of a performance. When I went to get the ticket, all they had for tonight was a 9 Euro partially obstructed seat on the fourth balcony. I took it but when I got there, I noticed my view was totally obstructed--the French should be embarrassed to sell that seat. I was in a box and happy it was being held up by the column blocking my view but I could see only the left side of the stage where the peasants always hang out and I got only the left side of the story.  I could only see the aristocracy in the middle of the stage by bending my head down almost to my knees.  On the first intermission, I was able to move to the back of the box and so decided to stay for the whole ballet, L'Histoire de Manon (which is a lot like Manon).  The orchestra was superb, the dancers were superb and I don't believe there could be a better prima ballerina anywhere in the world.  Of course, they have two casts but I can't imagine tomorrow night's could equal this cast.  

Il pleut, pleut, pleut all day and every day I've been here. I know nothing about weather but I wonder why Paris gets so much hail.  I've seen it 3 times since I've been here.  I was caught in a downpour this morning, the one and only time I wasn't carrying an umbrella.

These are the good seats in the picture below.  The cool thing about the boxes is they have coat racks and fainting couches in the back...but I couldn't see from either location.

No picture today because all I did was go to that church--you know, the famous one.  I'm sure you've already seen it.  Nicole had a play reading at Beata's apartment so the interesting thing about today was finally understanding about her 3 month residency.  The huge building she lives in is called the Artists Residency (something like that except it's in French) and it houses over 300 artists all the time.  So when you walk through the building, you hear pianos, cellos, and other instruments playing. I believe any type of artist is eligible to apply for this grant and of course, there are people from all over the world. I think they all have to do a presentation at some time in their residency. The apartment is small but they have to move pianos in for some people and one of the rooms is more of the artist's "studio." So there are tables and chairs provided but no comfortable couch or flat screen tv.  The disappointment is the kitchen which is adequate except for having just a hot plate. Most of these artists are not eating in restaurants all the time since they receive only accommodations, not money.  The residency is right across the bridge from Ile de la Cite, hence my walk to Notre Dame.  It was a rainy, rainy day though. Tonight we had dinner at a moules/frites restaurant in Saint Germain to thank all the French for helping with the play.  I am contributing nothing, but hey, I was invited.

 I am no longer mad at Johnny for sending me on the wild goose chase to a restaurant that doesn't exist anymore because he lent me a great map of Paris that I finally used today and it makes finding my way a lot easier.  All I wanted to do this morning was walk along the Seine and am happy to report that not once did I say "Ou est le Seine?"  Getting back was more difficult. My only consolation was that everyone I saw also had out a map and was saying "Where are we?"

This afternoon, I was meeting Nicole and her friends at Clignancourt to see the largest flea market in the world. I managed to get on the right train which was jam packed. I knew I would beat Nicole and her friend John to our meeting place, the KFC (of course) and I was about two stops away when the crowd in my car thinned out and I turned around and thought "That looks like....Nicole."  Somehow we had caught the same train and were in the same car. What are the odds?

The internet said this flea market is a great place to haggle but apparently, the vendors didn't read that article. Very little haggling and very few nice things.  A lot of junk.  Tonight we ate at a great Indian restaurant (I'm going to tell Nicole's director we were in Little India) so I continue to not have eaten in a French restaurant yet.  My other disappointment is that back in my day, one could get a cafe au lait at every corner.  Now, no one wants to prepare them--it's all cafe creme.  Maybe I'll try Starbucks.

The dog of choice in Paris seems to be Yorkie and Yorkie combinations.  Except...here on my street, a Great Dane. But of course, I do live in Little Denmark.

My street is one block long. On the next street is the K-Mart which the landlady explained is the Korean mart where you can find real fish to make sushi if I were so inclined. She's from Manhattan and says the French do not know how to make sushi; I'm not sure about the Japanese French. She also explained that my apartment used to be a "legal massage parlor" and when that closed, they left only the bathtub which she kept. My bathroom is big with a shower that has a wand, the tropical shower head and jets that shoot water from the sides--you can use all three of them at once (or you could just take a bath). I also have a nice kitchen and my landlady said that she's getting more and more tourists who are in Paris for cooking lessons so they actually cook. I buy my meals from the local delis and couldn't be happier.

Last night , I participated in the actor life--the show is from 9:30-11, followed by drinking at the local bar called Carpe Diem, followed by staying up until 3 a.m. But we managed to get up by noon and go to those gardens--you know, those famous ones.

My landlady had told me my area is "Little Japan" but the French director of the play pffed and said there is no Little Japan in Paris; I just live in an area with a lot of Japanese restaurants.  I was going to take a cab home at 1 in the morning because we thought the Metro closed at 1 (it actually closes at 2 on the weekends)  but when Nicole asked her director if he would explain my location to the driver, he said to me "Madame.  The taxi driver will say to you 'It is too short. You must walk.'" It's a mile walk and we did walk it on the way but I wanted a ride home.  I guess being old is no excuse...so Nicole brought me on the Metro which actually turned out to be a longer walk below ground to get to the train than it would have been above ground.

And finally, Johnny emailed me about a restaurant I should go to 3 blocks away but when I got there, I noticed it's either closed for good or just for today.  So I had Japanese food instead. I chose the restaurant called "Akita" since I know what that means. The fact there were no Japanese patrons should have been a clue to choose another place but those other ones were crowded. I didn't want sushi so I continue not to know whether the French Japanese can make it.  The grilled salmon was fine as was the traditional Japanese ice cream.

Here's my apartment on the Rue des Moulins which is a little street off Avenue de l'Opera. There's an entire street of Japanese restaurants close by but I didn't want Japanese food tonight so I went to the Royal Opera Breakfast & Lunch & Diner since that sounded like an authentic French restaurant. The food was horrible and very expensive. Even I can make better creme brulee. I made whatever the plural form of faux pas is and wondered whether you can only make a faux pas in France. I checked out the Japanese restaurants--very cheap and the food looks good; they were all packed.

Travel, Not So Fun

Here I am in Paris. That is all I have accomplished in the past 18 hours. First, I got busted at the Greater Cincinnati Airport in the body scan for wearing a money belt. I forgot about it...I needed that money belt because I was carrying the 8000 Euros I needed to buy my first cup of coffee in France. After I was cleared of wrongdoing, the actual flight was not so bad, given we were in the air for only 7 hours. Hey, China was 14 hours--this was a cakewalk.

I had carefully researched the best way to get to my apartment and according to the internet, I should just "follow the signs" to the Roissybus. There weren't any signs that I could see so but I found it after asking about 3 people and was merrily on my way until the bus blew a tire. It was one of those double buses with 6 tires but apparently it couldn't spare the one so we had to get a new bus.

After that, it was theoretically a 10 minute walk from the Opera to my apartment but I think I circled the Opera House twice until I ended up on the correct street. I took a nap, then Nicole brought me some lunch (she found my apartment with no instructions) and is now snoozing in my bed until she goes to the theater. My plans for the evening include reading and sleeping. Too bad about the jet lag because this has been the nicest day Paris has had this month.