Trip to Paris: August 2011
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| Jardin du Luxembourg, Paris |
Day 1: arrived late in the evening. The trip itself was to be a surprise for the gang who were over there: I had told them that I could not come so it was just Tara they thought was coming for the short week. We took the directions that Julie the host had given, taking the little airport train to the main metro line. At that point, I sent Tara out to the platform where Julie was waiting, and from behind a ticket machine I watched as they hugged greeting each other, grinning away to the bemusement of strangers passing by. When they were deep in conversation about the travels, I approached from behind and muttered towards Julie "This isn't Nørreport..." She swung her head in my direction, stared for half a second in confusion before breaking out in a huge grin, French exclamations and a big hug! We chattered and giggled intermittently, then boarded the train heading to the city. Half an hour later, we emerged from the underground weaving journey into the 5e arrondissement and to her door within minutes from there. And what a door it was! A gorgeous old horse entrance leading into a cobbled courtyard where her house was tucked away discretely behind larger apartments. In the courtyard the gang were lounging about, on benches and chairs, the table set with baguettes still in their bakery pockets, a selection of cheeses, wine and salads ready for a late supper. After the hugs, greetings and chatter we settled down to a simple but stunning supper. Plans were set for the next day to visit Pere La Chaisse and we went to our rooms to rest for the next day.
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| Pere Lachaise |
Day 2: the weather was stunning. Even in early morning, the heat of the day was building. Breakfast was to be a lengthy affair: firstly with a trip to the local bakery to pick up the bread and croissants. Cups of coffee, grapefruit juice, cheeses, marmalades were on offer and we ate well, predicting a long day out strolling the streets and graveyard. It was early afternoon when we were all ready to set off to say our hellos to the dead in Pere La Chaisse. Not my first trip there, but the first for some of the others, so the usual tombs were visited: Balzac, Chopin, Merleau-Ponty, Jim Morrisson to name but a few. It was not as green as I remembered, perhaps the grassy squares in Nørrebro's cemetery filling in gaps in memory. We spent several hours wandering about, sometimes aimlessly, just enjoying the art work of statues and tombs against the green leafy filtered light in the heat of the day. Coffee and late lunch was the next plan to be fulfilled so we wandered around to a cafe / bar called Chat Noir in the same arrondissement - a colourful mixed area, a very different feel to the 5e arrondissement which being a mere 10 minute walk to Notre Dame is quite an exclusive area. We sat indoors and ordered coffees and ate the sandwiches we brought with us - cheese and the baguettes bought that morning with a jar of kosher vegan pesto - not that we had any Jews among us - rather it was a random purchase, and one I would make again! Tasted excellent. Coffees were followed by a cold French beer. And before we knew it, 5o'clock came around and it was happy hour, so we ordered €2 crisp white wines and sat outside in the baking heat sipping. We eventually made our way back home and prepared a delicious dinner of couscous, stewed vegetables, hot sauce and melon salad. With this we drank more wine and stayed out late in the garden until it was time to retire again.
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| Midnight in Paris |
Day 3: The usual long lazy breakfast of still-warm-from-the-bakery bread, cheeses, marmalades and croissants, coffee and teas, sunshine in the garden. The only set plan for the day was to go to the Louvre for which we had free entrance as Julie's friend was working on Friday evening and could get all of us in. Since the others had been there for several days before we arrived, Julie took this morning / afternoon to walk Tara and I around the 5e arrondissement, showing us the old Roman arena behind her house, the Luxembourg jardin, and the corner which Woody Allen has put on the map with Midnight in Paris. We picked up fresh bread on the way back for the late lunch were were to have since dinner time would be occupied with the Louvre visit. At 6pm we met outside the Louvre, having strolled there from Julie's, ambling by the Seine pausing by many of the vendors selling books and trinkets, past Notre Dame over the island and to the square outside the Louvre where we stopped for coffee having arrived a bit early. All gathered there at the designated time and our guide arrived minutes later, whisking us through some staff entrance, skipping all the queues in the giant pyramid topped centre. Since people wished to see different artists and exhibitions, I took off on my own, heading to the Dutch section, the Scandinavian section, Egypt, Greece and Iran and planned the tour based on these locations. So for three hours we all pottered around soaking up the grandeur and loveliness. We met outside at 9pm just as the sun was setting. There was a fareground in the gardens so with our museum weary feet, we drifted that direction, bottles of wine purchased nearby in hand, and sat between the ferris wheel and the fountain, chewing on sandwiches and swigging gulps of red. We stayed until we could stay no longer and were shooed out by caretakers. We drifted along the Seine for an hour or so, stopping eventually at a cluttered little bar where they sold €3 beer - no name, just 'beer'! It was quite nice despite its generic identity. As the early hours of the morning crept in, we took our tipsy selves home.
Day 4: there was nothing at all planned for Saturday. Some talked of visiting the Eiffel Tower and other touristy things, but I've done all that tourist business on previous trips, so I declined, instead settling into a late morning sitting in the garden with a book, then doing the grocery shopping with Julie in the afternoon. For the evening, I had plans to go see Midnight in Paris in the cinema that is featured in the film. About a 20 minute stroll from the house. It's been playing in the cinemas in Paris for many months now, but still the theatre was jam packed. Lovely film, lovely experience, made even more lovely by being right in the centre of the film location. Arrived home to find the gang splayed out in the garden, awaiting the arrival of the final members so they could begin to make the crepes and drink the cidre that Julie had bought from a tiny farm in Brittany near where her family has their second home. It was every bit as delicious as she claimed - sweet, bubbly and refreshing. I could have drank a gallon of the stuff! After crepes and cidre, we took our full bellies out for a late night stroll, stopping on those Midnight in Paris steps again.
Day 5: final day. There is a fresh fruit, vegetable, flea market half an hour away across the river on weekends so four of us got up early enough to visit and buy vegetables. The weather had turned; this day it was grey and drizzled intermittently, but pleasant in its own way. If you've seen Midnight in Paris you'll understand! We ambled around the market for an hour or so, then stopped at a grotty looking cafe for coffee. We had skipped breakfast, knowing we could find some interesting foodstuffs at the market. And we did. I chose an Algerian delicatessen and ordered a sort of soft layered savoury pastry, filled with tomato and onion, then a sort of corn biscuit sandwich filled with pressed dates. The others choose sandwiches and other odd pastry things from the various tiny shops dotted along the streets. We headed home with some fresh fruit and vegetables. We got home, packed and then headed out for one final Parisian coffee shop experience. Up to a small cluttered square in the far reaches of the 5e arrondissement where we were genuinely shocked by the prices for the first time since arrival. Truly a tourist trap, they were charging between €8 - €9.50 for a simple pastry, and that did not include coffee. We eventually chose a small bakery on a corner which had some chairs outside and had some reasonably priced coffees and delicious pastries.
All too soon it was time to say our goodbyes and head back underground along the weaving rails to Orly.
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| Copenhagen postcard sent to Paris, Aug. 1935 |
At midnight the flight touched ground in torrential rain Denmark. As the aircraft pulled up on the tarmac, an apologetic sounding pilot informed us that there was no sheltered exit walkway from the plane to the terminal available, and to make matters wetter, the entrance we pulled up by was undergoing repairs, so we would have to make a dash to the next one further away. Needless to say I was saturated to the skin by the time I got indoors again. You really do get what you pay for with budget airlines.
C'est tout.
