Last Photos of Lovely Paris

Well, this is it, my last posting in this blog dedicated to my wonderful four weeks in the City of Light, Paris. I am not the most traveled person in the world, but at least from what I have seen, by far Paris is the most beautiful city of them all. Having had this time to really explore the city, live in an actual apartment building in a real working neighborhood, interact with the French people -- buy that unparalleled fresh food in the Bastille market! -- I'd do it all over again in a heartbeat.

These last photos are from those taken once my lovely Carol joined me. Many of them will be from places I've already shown you on these pages -- but, hey, I at least can certainly stand seeing them all again! So please enjoy these last photos from this magical place:

Here's my sweetheart at the 18th century fountain on the Rue du Faubourgh St-Antoine, right across from where the Passage du Chantier opens onto the street. The fountains are still running here in mid-November, so you can tell it's not winter yet -- when it is, the fountains are turned off!














This was taken while wandering through the streets of the Marais district. The impressive church in the background is the Church of St. Paul on the Rue St-Antoine.
















Hanging across the street here are the first Christmas decorations we saw. So even the French get a bit of an early start on the holidays since this was mid-November -- but, hey, nothing like the Christmas stuff on display in the stores in the States in September...

It's a little funny that we'd see the first decorations here since the Marais district is pretty much the Jewish quarter of Paris, eh?




This is taken in the courtyard of the Hotel Sully, one of the old palatial residences in the Marais district built in the 17th century distinguished by their courtyards and gardens.
















We ended up going back to the St. Michel area on the Left Bank several times. We had spent quite a bit of time in this area when we first visited Paris in March, 2001, and it still remains a favorite part of town.

This is the fantastic fountain in the Place St-Michel. In spite of how it might look, this was built after World War II to commemorate the French who fought in that war and the ultimate defeat of the Nazi occupiers.










While the St. Michel and neighboring St. Germain des Prés areas are loaded with things to see, I have to admit that the main reason we kept coming back was for the food. The streets immediately adjacent to the Fountain of St. Michel are full of great little restaurants and food stands, all very moderately priced.

The menu board here is typical of how things are done in many restaurants in Paris. Every day there will be two or three set menus at different price ranges, each with three courses, and you pick your entrée (which is an appetizer -- an entry to the meal, yes? -- in France), plat (main dish) and désert (just what you think) from about four selections in each category. Yum!





Somebody couldn't resist the pastry shop...













And then somebody else had to try one of those gyros...

Gyros are French, aren't they?
















This is on the Ile-St-Louis again just before you cross the bridge onto the Ile de la Cité.













Sure enough, the musicians were out there on the bridge playing that jazz again!

Parisians are such musical people. Even the beggars are musicians. When you ride the Métro, not infrequently all of a sudden someone (a beggar) will enter the car, in a loud voice "declare" themselves ("Mesdames et messieurs," and then state their name and their situation), and then sing or play an instrument for handouts. And they're all good! They're usually quite happily rewarded by their audiences.

Of course, we had to hit the big museums again. That's the Musée d'Orsay, the great Impressionist museum, seen from across the beautiful Seine River.










And of course the Grand Louvre. The glass pyramid is where visitors enter the museum (going below ground to the entrance level) and that peaked roof on the left is the end of one wing. You have to understand that there is another wing just like that one to the right, outside of the photo, and then there is a whole quadrangle of the building behind where this photo was taken. You have no idea how huge this complex is. But then, what would one expect of the complex that served as the royal palace for eight centuries, eh?


The French are not only all musical, they're all artistic. The very first night we stayed in Paris the first time we visited, the first thing I saw outside our hotel window was a man oil painting in his apartment across the way! The museums here are full of students like this one copying the Old Masters. And just like the singers in the trains are all good, so are the art students, as you can see!





On this run through the Louvre we actually saw several areas we'd not been able to get to before, including the apartments of Napoléon III. This is old Napster III's living room. Might do...















Here's the dining room.

I have a feeling that this is more where Carol would like to be while I'm whiling away eternity in that little brick house at The Bagatelle...














And then those phenomenal views from the Centre Georges Pompidou! Here's part of the Paris skyline seen from a "sculpure park" on the fifth floor.










Between the lighting and the viewpoint, I was able to get a whole series of photos like this that are absolutely surreal. For whatever reasons of optics, the whole series came out looking like magical paintings or drawings rather that photos -- but I swear these are photographs!

The large building in the center distance is the wonderful Church of St-Eustache I've mentioned before that is just now being restored from the devastation wreaked on it during the Revolution and the Commune period.


More natural surrealism. This is a photo of the Forum Les Halles, a great shopping center that extends three levels underground and totals 17 acres of shops and eateries. And right next door to that great old Church of St-Eustache and Napoléonic period buildings. Where else but Paris...







Of course, we visited that wonderful open-air market at the Place de la Bastille and bought our supplies for the last few dinners at the apartment. Oh, man, look at that seafood!










And we ran up to the butte of Montmartre our last day of sightseeing and got this nice photo of beautiful Paris under light just breaking through the clouds.










Just to go out in style, we spent our last two nights in a really lovely hotel called the Little Palace. This is the view to one side of our balcony window overlooking a cute little park and more of those majestic Parisian buildings.










And Carol enjoying the view on the balcony.


















And looking to the right from our little balcony, the Rue Sebastopol as the sun began to set on our last evening in this lovely city.












And that's it, except maybe to leave you with a last photo of myself. Can you tell I'm in my element?








As the French say, Bonne journée!

Catching Up The Blog!

Carol and I are back in the States after a last wonderful week in Paris. I thought I should probably get back on and make a start at catching up all the photos yet to post.

Before I do that, I want to again thank Jim Dietz of San Diego, CA for making his great little Parisian studio apartment available for rental. I can't tell you how much better my stay in this most beautiful city was because I was able to live in an actual neighborhood with wonderful French neighbors. Let alone that I was able to stay for four weeks for about what a week in hotels and restaurants would have cost. And then, if I'd stayed in hotels and eaten in restaurants, I never even would have ventured into those wonderful Parisian open-air markets and tasted all that fantastically fresh food! So thanks again to Jim for making all this possible, and I can't recommend him highly enough. If you think you'd like to spend a few weeks living like a real Parisian, contact Jim at: http://www.jimdietz.com/chantier.html

Anyway, on the the photos, this first batch from my wanderings in the Bois de Boulogne (see "Songs from the Wood" below):











It's really easy to forget that, in spite of 2100 acres of woodland and parkland, you're still right in city -- as the two photos below show. The photo below with the busy roadway is what's just to the right of the first photo!

















A ways into the wood I came to The Bagatelle, which is the formal grounds surrounding an old estate (a minor estate, mind you). This next group of photos are from The Bagatelle grounds, comprising a rose garden and an Orangerie (a building sheltering various citrus trees -- yeah, the one that looks like the houses you see in 19th century American estates like the Huntington Garden in Southern California!).













































































Then I left this beautiful garden area through a pathway that was really more a tunnel through the dense, low-hanging foliage of the trees lining it and came upon this wonderful little house, which I assume was part (probably servants' quarters or something) of the original 18th century estate. This is the house I indicated below that I want to live in after I've died and gone to heaven (and, of course, been properly laid to rest in the Cimetière du Père-Lachaise):

















































Mon dieu...

And then across the lovely garden from the little house is what I believe was the "big house" of the original estate, which now houses the lovely Restaurant de Trianon:


































Walking on from the "big house," I came to The Trianon, which is a later addition to the estate that is used for various art exhibits, with, again, its own lovely grounds:














































































They have so much artwork in France, they don't know what to do with it. Here are a bunch of sculptures just sitting around The Trianon in bubble-wrap. I don't know whethey they're from a recently closed exhibit, one coming up, new pieces for the garden... There were just as many more on the other side of the walkway, and then even more a bit further!

















Leaving the Bois de Boulogne, I again walked along the edge of the wooded and park areas making my way to a different exit. Again, you can see how beautiful the fall foliage was even with all the traffic:
















As I've said several times in these blog pages and undoubtedly will again, the great thing about Europe is you only have to walk a few steps and look in another direction to see some fabulous view. Another few paces along this road and this famous Parisian landmark came into view:





















That's it for this posting on the Bois de Boulogne. Check back, because there'll be at least one more with photos from the last week as I tried to show Carol as much as I could of all the wonderful things I'd seen -- and as we discovered even more!

She's Here!

Well, my beautiful Carol arrived right on time yesterday at Charles de Gaulle International Airport, so things have been busy between showing her "the neighborhood" and converting that little studio apartment into something suitable for two instead of one! Today begins the whirlwind of trying to show her as much of everything I've seen in the past three weeks, so I may get behind on blogging (and I know I still have Bois de Boulogne photos to post). Worse comes to worst, I'll catch up when we're home. But otherwise, stay posted!

Songs from the Wood

Wasn't that an old Jethro Tull title?

Anyway, today I took the No. 1 Métro almost all the way to its most westerly stop and spent three magical hours wandering through the Bois de Boulogne. Another beautiful, beautiful day of exploration -- and, of course, lots of photos. The Internet seems to be running slowly at the moment, so uploading photos is difficult; as a result, I will post the Bois de Boulogne photos and commentary as soon as I have a sufficient block of time. For now I have to get back to the apartment and do a bit of cleaning up -- because my lovely Carol will be here tomorrow morning! It's going to be wonderful having my beautiful wife here for my last week here in Paris. I'll probably end up exhausting her entirely. After all, I'm going to have to show her almost everything I've already seen!

Check back soon for the Bois de Boulogne.

Père-Lachaise: The Final Chapter (As They Might Say in the Movies)

Written the afternoon of Wednesday, 11/9. It's clear and beautiful again this morning (11/10).


Still rainy here in Paris, so a good afternoon to finish writing about the great Cimetière du Père-Lachaise.

Coming back up from the subterranean columbarium hallways, the next notable is the great modern writer Marcel Proust (1871-1922). The sickly son of wealthy parents, his writings are considered masterpieces at connecting one’s external world and actions to his internal consciousness. Proust was the lover of composer Maurice Ravel and wanted to be buried with him (apparently not in this cemetery; at least Ravel isn’t on the “A” list), but his parents wouldn’t allow it – and, obviously, here he lies with the family.




This is the gravesite of Honoré de Balzac (1799-1850), who studied law at the Sorbonne, but decided he’d rather write – and spent all day and most of the night writing, sleeping for only a few hours in the late afternoon. Along with his noted works, and to avoid starvation, as is the case with many writers, he wrote pulp novels under a pseudonym. Living in a cold, spare room during his time of greatest poverty, he adorned his meager surroundings by writing on the walls – “Rosewood paneling with commode” in one spot, “Gobelin tapestry with Venetian mirror” in another – and “Picture by Raphael” above the fireplace. Along with him is buried Polish countess Evelina Hanska, who he married only a few months before his death after an exchange of love letters for 18 years.
Below the bust of Balzac, lying on a shelf, is a sculpted book with a quill pen lying on top of it. The title chiseled into the spine of the marble volume is, appropriately, “La Comédie Humaine” – “The Human Comedy.”


Here’s another bit of color and light along the pathway.



















Here lies the man who was the greatest inspiration to many of the Impressionists, the great French painter Eugène Delacroix (1798-1863). Delacroix is one of the masters of the Romantic movement. He once said, “If you are not skillful enough to sketch a man falling out of a window during the time it takes him to get from the fifth story to the ground, then you will never produce a monumental work.” Delacroix must have been very, very skilled because he produced many monumental works, his entire output exceeding 9,000 paintings, drawings and pastels.


Ah, these temperamental artists! The next site on the list is the grave of Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres (1780-1867). Ingres entered the studio of Louis David (coming up later, folks!) at the age of 17 and then won the Prix de Rome only four years later. His technique broke from the traditional and he was alienated from the Parisian art scene as a result, working in Rome until 1820 and in Florence until 1824. In spite of this disapproval, he was named the president of the École des Beaux-Arts (School of Fine Art) when he returned to Paris, which caused a great degree of animosity between he and Delacroix (above). In fact, there was so much animosity between the two that Ingres refused Delacroix’s handshake until well into his old age. Even if you don’t know it by name, you’d probably recognized what I think is Ingres’ most well-known work: Odalisque with the Slave.





This one puzzles me (the small tomb at the foot of the "towers"). Either the guidebook got the wrong Lalique or there is another tomb nearby which I was unable to find. The guidebook says this (or something in the area…) is the grave of René Lalique (1860-1945), the well-known glass artisan and jewelry designer from the Art Nouveau era. There are two individuals named Lalique buried here, the only one of which has a name at all similar to René Lalique is Georgette Renée Lalique, obviously a woman. Close, but no cigar.











Here’s the family plot of famous painter Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot (1796-1875). Corot didn’t start painting until age 30 and was regularly exhibiting at the Salon of the Barbizon School, primarily a group of landscape artists, only five years later. Corot was another artist greatly influential on the Impressionists, but he didn’t receive any real acclaim until well into his fifties. When he was forced to sell one of his paintings to get money, he exclaimed, “Alas, my collection has been so long complete, and now it is broken!”




Sculptor, painter and lithographer Honoré Daumier (1808-79) is just a few rows behind Corot’s plot (seen in the background of this shot). Daumier was known mainly for his satirical political work. An 1832 cartoon in which Daumier depicted Louis-Philippe as Gargantua swallowing bags of gold extracted from his subjects actually got him imprisoned for six months. Daumier was a member of the realist school and was much admired by other French artists. Balzac once said of him, “This boy has some Michelangelo under his skin.”



This is another incredibly evocative tomb along one of the pathways.


















Tucked into a tight little corner among other small graves next to one really huge monument is the grave of Sarah Bernhardt (Henriette-Rosine Bernard, 1844-1923), one of the most famous stage actresses of all time. After being raised in a convent until age 13, she entered the Paris Conservatory and then made a badly received acting debut at age 17. She then went on to international acclaim by virtue simply of her perseverance and even became a silent film star in the last years of her life. An observer said, “For days after what seemed like Bernhardt’s last public performance, mourners stood in line in the cemetery to get a view of where she lay dead, just as they had made the box-office queue to see her alive on the stage.

In matching adjacent tombs surrounded by a fenced enclosure lie Molière (Jean-Baptiste Poquelin, 1622-73), the greatest of French playwrights, and writer of fables Jean La Fontaine (1621-95). In his attempts to promote this cemetery after its poor start, Frouchot bought these supposed remains to appeal to a better clientele. In his many satirical plays, Molière attacked church as well as state, so the Church refused him burial in consecrated ground, which was said to extend 14 feet deep. King Louis XIV then ordered his grave dug to 16 feet – but no one really knew where he was actually buried; in fact, there is a legend that he disappeared before he could be put into that 16-foot-deep grave. As a result, it’s considered likely that M. Frouchot was taken for a ride when he bought Molière’s bones. Most think that if Frouchot was duped regarding remains, he probably was with La Fontaine’s as well. La Fontaine’s 12 books of fables, by the way, were so popular that 137 editions were printed within his own lifetime.

And last on my guidebook's list of noted sites is the memorial of Jacques-Louis David (1748-1825). David’s first attempt at the Prix de Rome failed and he attempted suicide. He was saved by some fellow art students who found him in his room before it was too late. He did win the Prix de Rome in 1774 and went to study painting in Italy. He returned to Paris in 1780 and became very involved in politics. David revolutionized art with huge, huge paintings that were often commentaries on current events. His Coronation of Napoléon takes up most of one wall in the extremely large exhibit rooms at the Louvre. He became so involved as a painter of Napoléon that he ended up exiled in Brussels when Napoléon fell.







I can’t tell you how affected I have been by this cemetery. 99 acres of headstones and monuments itself has a staggering effect. This is truly a city of the dead – and yet the sound of children at recess in a school just outside its walls ringing through the cemetery, the light of the morning sun, the colors of the many, many flowers as well as the natural beauty of the grounds and their plantings also make this a city of life. The artwork is so poignant, so fully conveys man’s deepest longing for the eternal – and his despair over the fragility and shortness of his span of years. Walking among these stones old and new, of rich and poor, of noted and unknown through so many centuries in just this one place puts both the position of the individual and the continuity of humankind in stark perspective. And I have been in few, if any, places that instilled so much of a sense of peace, and gratitude for precious life. I suspect that the memories and impressions gained from touring this wonderful place will be what stay with me longest from this beautiful city of Paris.

One last memorial. This one, of a young man named Valerio who died in 1988, probably struck me more than any. He would have been only eight years younger than I am, which I’m sure hit home. But I think what resonated most deeply was the inscription at its base: “Il aimait STENDHAL PAVAROTTI GAMINE les PINK FLOYD mais à 29 ans…” – “He loved Stendhal, Pavarotti, Gamine, the Pink Floyd; but at 29 years…”











What an incredible and beautiful gift -- however brief -- life is.

And in case you'd like to virtually walk along the actual pathways of this great place, try the incredible virtual tour at: http://www.pere-lachaise.com/perelachaise.php?lang=en (thanks, Linda!).