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.