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It was a rainy day today, but yesterday I found myself under a beautiful cherry tree in full bloom.   It was a sunny, cool day.  The street is not pretty except for these trees.  

Today was rainy and cold made worse by a strong wind.  We had a lunch date with a good friend up on Blvd. Montparnasse.  It used to be a area where artists and writers congregated.  We took bus #28 as far as it goes up Blvd. Montparnasse and walked the rest of the way.  Our restaurant, Le Bar à Huïtres, is on one of these busy corners.  Le Dome, is famous and probably past its hey-day.   Many of the restaurants here specialize in shellfish. I stood on one corner and snapped a couple of photos — it was so cold I couldn’t wait for traffic to pass for a better shot.  Hopefully, you get the idea.  This is a busy place.  All of these restaurants have outdoor stalls where you can also buy shellfish to take.

Sitting close to us,  these folks are enjoying one of the grand tiered platters of shellfish.  There are different types of shellfish — some we don’t have.  Most comes from Brittany. I don’t think it is clear, but there is dry ice which is making a white smoke coming out of the top.   Our lunch below was a little less interesting visually, but those mashed potatoes were to die for.   Absolutely the best ever.  

A tiered display was added to the outside stall which we saw upon leaving.  Enticing — one of these days we are going to order one of these.  However, since I don’t eat raw oysters, we have hesitated to do so. Below — have you ever seen an oyster this big?  These are gigantic!  

Our friend is an artist and her ‘atelier’ (studio) is on Blvd Montparnasse (that’s why we had lunch here) This is an interesting place.  I don’t think we have anything like it in the US.  The city of Paris sponsons the endeavor. The building has a sign  “ABA — Ateliers beaux-arts de la Ville de Paris.”  Translated: Studios for fine arts of the City of Paris.  Anyone who applies can rent a space here.  There are sections for painters, sculptors, and other artists.  One pays a small fee according to income.  Provided, also for a small fee,  are all kinds of art materials.  Interesting!  The building opens at 3 pm.  Thus, we were waiting with others for the doors to open.  

On the side of the building I was this plaque.  One sees these all of the city — tributes to fallen resistance fighters.  Here is one to a man by the name of Robert Marchand.  According to the tribute here, he was captured, tortured, but didn’t ‘talk’.  Before being executed he said, ‘I die happy knowing that I did my duty.” 1942

We are seeing poles (not trees) wrapped in these white cloths.  We’ve no idea why and haven’t had a chance to ask anyone.  Very strange!  We’ve never seen this before.  

All over our neighborhood (and I’m sure the city) are electric car charging stations.  Here is one charging.  We thought the position of the charger was interesting.  Despite the cigarette butt seen here, Paris is the cleanest we’ve seen in years.  We walked the 1 1/2 miles from the restaurant to our apartment.  I planned it that way — we took the bus up MONTparnasse (uphill) and walked down Montparnasse after lunch.  

The best part was that we took off and arrived on time.  Everyone seemed to know what they were doing — and again, staff was pleasant, accommodating, but no frills.

Only two hours of sleep made for two weary travelers upon arrival. In a cab (55 euros set price– it was 35 last time!)

I didn’t think there would be much to write about today but as it turned out it was a good day and so here is one last blog.

After a morning of doing sheets and towels we headed downstairs to meet friends for lunch at La Cigale Recamier a must for us when in Paris. We haven’t had a croissant yet, but we can’t go home without a soufflée. We have the same main course every time (mushroom soufflee) and usually the chocolate one for dessert. This time I had pistachio with chocolate sauce (almost an ice cream) which was wonderful. chef owner Gerard Idoux is a fun loving kind of guy. He came over the minute he spotted George and gave him a big welcome. We had some good laughs which our French friends were able to interpret for us. I’m definitely not there yet.

After that we stopped in next door at the EDF gallery. EDF is France’s electric/gas company. From time to time they have special exhibits and so there was one in progress called Light Matters. The exhibition room was totally dark, lit only by hundreds of tiny lights hanging from wires. The lights changed color. The place was packed with a lot of people wandering though the maze of hanging lights. We,too.

From there we walked two blocks over to the Bon Marche where I thought I might find a fun scarf for my self. Well I didn’t find anything I really liked but almost bought a fun muffler of faux fur. It had a snazzy purse inside which I thought was clever. However, at a 1000 euros I passed on it. We were taken by the fantastical installation throughout the interior which was also continued in the display windows. I tried to capture this white monster floating through the air as best I could. There is a short blurb about the artist at the end.

I couldn’t resist one last tart photo. This one is a lemon tart. I thought it was so cute– almost like Mrs Maillard with her little ducklings.

Our time is coming to an end here in Paris.   Though we’ve been here for only 7 days it feels much longer as we’ve done so much.  Last night we had a wonderful evening hosted by good friends who also invited other good friends.  Eight of us for dinner — it was quite the evening.  The noise level was quite high — we were all animated — though I’m not sure why.  Maybe everyone was simply happy to be together — a gathering prompted by our surprise visit in the middle of January.  The evening ended with a treat that we brought along — a Gallete des Rois (galette of the kings).  This is a cake/pastry that is traditionally baked on Jan. 6 – Epiphany.  But over time it became not only a cake for that day but for all of January, even starting around Dec. 24.  Thus, as of Feb. 1, one cannot find this in any pastry shop. I knew about the galettes because a French teacher I had in D.C. taught Nancy and I how to make them.  Well — she showed us – I’m not sure we learned.  Thus, walking around on the first day I spotted them in the windows of pastry shops.  Usually they have a paper gold crown atop them.  George and I went early in the day yesterday to get one from a local bakery –and as luck would have it, it was super delicious.

When the Galette is served, a child goes under the table and says the name of a person at the table — that person gets the next piece of the galette.  And so it continues until everyone gets a piece in random order — based on the names the child calls out.  Then, as each person eats the one who finds the charm gets crowned and gets to pick a mate from to also get crowned.  If it is boy who gets the charm, he picks a girl and visa versa.  it is great fun.  And that’s what we did.  No one got under the tale but our hostess covered her eyes and called out the name of the guests in random order.

Since so many of you have said you like the photos of food and comments about them I’m going to include a few more here.  First — George and I made chorag after we learned about the correct flour to use.  Inspired by our nephew Doug, we have now done this twice.  It came out great — and we took some to our friends who had Doug’s chorag when they were in the States.

Above are a few things we won’t try…. a meringue wedding cake and some tarts to die for. I’ve posted some like this before but these were from two days ago.  So amazing…. and soooo delicious.

one very cold rainy afternoon we walked a mile plus to a relatively new development called BeauPassage. They took an old alley way and transformed it into a modern assortment of restaurants and other shops. One of the restaurants is vegetarian and a gin-bar. What better way to spend a rainy afternoon in Paris? The entrance to the passage has a red fantasy tree molded around the walls. We are upstairs – George has a gin and grapefruit cocktail while I stuck with red wine. Dinner? Grilled sardines followed by broiled white fish and fish and chips.

The rice was a take-off in Persian rice–with sweet-sour red berries in it. Very tasty. You’ll note from the menu that the name of the restaurant is MerSea –mer is French for sea.

January. We decided to take a quick trip to Paris despite it being winter and many sane folks are heading south. But here we are and despite the cold temperatures we are having a nice time. After arriving via Iceland we went to sleep it seemed for the first two days. We woke up in time trip host our friends Sarah and Scott for lunch. Sarah, better know as Chef Sarah to the Paris Cooking With Class world, came prepared to teach me how to make a simple (simple for her!) French tart with an almond cream topped with pears. We forgot to take a photo of our working together but I will attach a photo of the half-eaten tarts. I did work along side her as she demonstrated techniques for making a really fluffy crust. As one who usually leaves the crust I can tell you that I would never leave this crust. It was super flaky and delicious. I learned, too, about the different kinds of flour that are sold in France. It explains why when I tried to bake bread here last visit i failed. Unlike in the US the flour has a number on it: T45 is for pastry, T 55 is all purpose, and T 65 is for bread. I had used pastry flour for bread and it didn’t work.

I don’t have a lap top and am writing on my iPhone. Editing and getting stuff inserted where I want it isn’t easy. We’ll see how this works out.

I should add that after a lot of research and a hint from friends who travel I decided to convert George’s old iPhone to a French phone so that we don’t have to worry about data charges. It is great! We can be out on the street now and call Uber without Att getting their cut.

Yesterday we met friends for lunch at a fish restaurant called La Criee(the first e should have an accent). The food was really good -much better than what I remembered. Ladies at the table next to us we’re having lobster. Our friends told us that the lobster here is not as good as in New England despite being very expensive. They went on to tell the story of the first time they had lobster in Maine -sitting outdoors at a picnic bench the lobsters were “thrown down on the table” and everyone just dug in. They were shocked since in Paris it is served only with great elegance. We had a good laugh. George ordered a filet of bar(small white fish). However he got a whole fish after the waiter explained that he made a mistake and was it ok to serve the whole fish at no extra charge.

I had three tartines– each a different fish prepared as a salad and put on top of avocado. The cup holds ginger sauce for the salmon. All delicious. And those are sliced potatoes that have been seasoned and fried quickly.

After lunch we headed to the Musee Marmottan-Monet to see a special exhibit of impressionists from private collections. I’m showing below several from the permanent collection since you might not have seen these. They speak for themselves. All of the Japanese bridge over the Lilly pond at Giverny.

Settling in… Paris

We’ve been following the horrific events at home this past week and trying to deal with what these murders say is happening in our country.  We are deeply saddened and horrified at the racism and anti-Semitism these represent.  This blog not the place for me to say anything more — so I won’t.  More will come later.  

For some reason, we’ve been continuing to sleep in late each day, and not getting out until 1 or 2 p.m. or later!  It is actually quite nice to have the luxury to do that — and we’re taking advantage of it.  Since I wrote last we’ve been quite busy despite our late starts.   I’ll show you some of what we’ve seen at two exhibitions and some fun window shopping.  But first — a cup of hot chocolate after braving the cold walking around the Luxembourg Gardens.  Hot chocolate — served in a cup, thick chocolate at the bottom to which one adds warm milk as desired.  This is quite the treat.

We didn’t have anything sweet with the hot chocolate, but just look at this meringue tower we saw not far from here.

The Alberto Giacometti exhibit is at the Musée de Maillot, in the 7th, on rue de Grenelle. We met our friends there and spent the next hour viewing these beautiful works which none of us had ever seen.  I didn’t know that Giacometti had a cubist period… but here were several sculptures from that period.  This one was especially engaging… called the The Couple.  They really are quite the pair!

The piece de resistance, however, was the Walking Man, which stands 6 ft. tall, and is haunting in its other worldliness — at least to me.  In the exhibit, one comes across this piece as one turns to the left and is suddenly confronted by the view you see below.  I was startled — and I think I let out a soft gasp.  Look at his feet….

.Walking Man from the front.

Giacometti worked hard on the eyes of his subjects — their gaze being something he worked over and over again.   Below is another — but on a much smaller scale – perhaps 14 inches in height.

Above are 4 women rising up out of the bronze block.  They are prostitutes — I don’t think he liked women very much.   They are only shown as static figures, without movement.  These are only about 18 inches in height.

At an exhibit at the Grand Palais about Venice in the 18thc, we saw the sculpture below by Antonio Couradini (1752).  How he made stone to look like a delicate and transparent veil covering her face left us in awe.   What a contrast between the two artists.

The other figure that caught my attention was this one.  I didn’t note who did it, but what made me take a second look was the chain in orange, making it clear that the man holding the urn was a slave.  I am still working on trying to figure this one out…. any thoughts, anyone?

No time to add the window shopping here — I’ll save that for the next blog.

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Paris, October 2018

After a whirlwind time in Lincoln, back and forth to the Cape, home and family, we finally boarded our United flights to Newark and then to Paris. I’m not sure we’ll do that again, because Newark is much to busy a hub. Flights in and out were delayed and thus we were sitting around waiting because air traffic control had too much on their radar. Finally we boarded and all went well. Arrival at Charles De Gaulle was easy – though over one hour late, our bags were on the carrousel, a taxi was available, but then it was stop and go all the way out of the airport, through Paris and home.   As I always say, just reporting, not complaining…. And probably all of these are of little interest, but simply to say that by the time we arrived into our apartment we collapsed.

The weather has been good –sunny, warmish, and with a cool breeze. We made every effort to get into the sun to reset our internal clocks, but it has been difficult. Jetlagged we’ve been up most of the night and then sleeping in, or as one says in French, “J’ai fait la grasse matinee” (accent is missing). I’ve recently learned this expression thus felt compelled to slip it in! Jetlag has been so bad that we even missed our coveted market day on Saturday morning.  I did manage later in the day to go out a bit to buy some bread from our local bakery (Our neighbors had stocked our refrig with staples enough for a few days.  All we needed was bread). As you can see more than bread is sold here.

I resisted the other goodies and I didn’t want to look like a tourist taking photos of everything — as I waited on line for my bread. But when I was outside I couldn’t resist taking photo of these gigantic eclairs, filled I’m sure with delicious custard.  Figs are in season and can be seen here decorating the cake and tarts. This boulangerie/patisserie is quite small with little room inside for customers. By the time I had my bread and left, the line was out the door.

I walked along the sunnyside of the street and noticed for the first time the beautiful ironwork on this building which I’ve passed many times.

The blue door and the blue painted ironwork are unusual for Paris.  You can see from the shadows that it is late afternoon.

The next day we headed to the 11th for dinner with Sarah and Scott, our friends who bicycled from Paris to South Africa (Yes — that’s what they did taking other transportation to cross bodies of water such as the Dardanelles!).  They bicycle all over Paris without trepidation.  But for us, getting to the 11th was well out of our comfort zone, despite it being an up and coming arrondissement with new trendy restaurants — none of which we’ve tried. We went, however,  to try out a new Japanese vegan restaurant. (You read it right)… It took  45 minutes to get there — line #6 to Etoile and from there #2 , 21 stops to Courconnes.

Using the metro is easier than figuring out buses , just follow the arrows.  Walking and stairs are required, however.  Fortunately, despite our groans and moans, we can still manage.

We asked directions when we got out and walked about 7 minutes to the restaurant.  For the first time we saw shops that sell the garments for Moslem women.  One after the other — there were shops with head scarves, veils, long garments — hijabs. Some were quite elegant with sparkling embroidery.  (no photos taken)

The cuscine at Toutofu was delicious — the specialty being tofu (made on the premises), as well as noodles of rice and wheat.  We had lentils with tofu, and a noodle dish, but the best was the pancake of mushrooms and leeks.  We’d go back but it was too difficult and long to get there.  We circled back by metro in the opposite direction which was much better – thus we completed a huge loop around Paris that evening.  

Another form of transportation, new since we were here last, is the electric scooter accessed by scanning the barcode on the handle –and off you go.  Leave the scooter where ever you want, pick it up whenever you want.  Lots of people are using them.

We could have used one of these the next day.  It was Monday and we headed to Rue Cler to get provisions for a dinner we were planning — fresh pasta with real Parmagiano-Reggiano cheese.  I found a nice recipe for aglio olio, with slowly simmered sliced garlic in oil but I needed the real parmagiano to make it special.  The cheese shop we frequent is closed on Mondays, so we hoped to find one on Rue Cler.  We did,  but our fish store was closed and thus we headed to Picards for the frozen stuff — second best.  We got directions to the closest Picards (famous all over France), and when we finished our shopping, we had apparently lost track of how far we had walked from Rue Cler.  As navigator, I made a few turns here and there, and before we knew it we were lost!  Yikes… for the first time in many years — we were lost in Paris and not all that far from home (maybe a mile or so).  and in our own arrondissement.  I’d forgotten that the back streets between the boulevards here were pie-shaped and criss-crossed — down one does not lead directly to the next one.  Well — we discovered a number of lovely shops while we worked our way out of the maze.  This one was especially wonderful with bridal gowns, and ballet-like dresses for young girls.  Gorgeous!   By the time we reached home (having taken Bus #28 for the last bit) we walked over 3 miles.

Yesterday was George’s birthday.  We celebrated with our neighbors with a fun fun dinner at a new local restaurant.  But during the day we headed to Paris’ Lost and Found which is in the arrondissement next to ours (fortunately), the 15th.  It was a short bus ride to retrieve the wallet of a friend who had had his pocket picked when last in Paris more than a month ago.  The wallet was found, and he received an official letter giving him 3 months within which to claim it, along with instructions on how to do so.  We were armed with the necessary documents and with my passport in hand, we accomplished the task.  Just outside of the station house was a big park edged with this beautiful hedge with bright red berries — almost like a holly. 

Dinner with friends at night.  What a night — we laughed so so hard at one funny story after another.  But the funniest was this:   earlier our friend Caroline had written to suggest the perhaps George and I would like to have a night out ‘en amoureux’… I wrote back and said no… we’d love to go the 5 of us (all speak wonderful English, including their daughter).  So after we left the restaurant, and a bit giddy from the bottle of champagne we’d consumed, I said something about ‘en amoureux’ but my friend looked at me wondering what I was talking about.  It seems that the way I pronounced ‘amoureux’ it came out to mean ‘a codfish’.  Well, they couldn’t stop laughing and no matter what I did, I couldn’t get it right… “romantic time” turned into ‘a codfish”… I still can’t say it…. but I won’t stop trying. !!

The days are flying by now and we’ve less than a week left to enjoy our time here.  Much has happened since I last wrote — I’m not sure where to begin.  Probably the best place is what we did yesterday and then I’ll work my way back.   I’m going to give it a little theme… Armenian Happenings in Paris.

A couple of days ago when we were on our way to meet friends in the 13th for lunch, as we were coming down a very long flight of stairs from the elevated metro #6, George saw a young boy with a tee shirt that said, “ARMENIA”.  George yelled out, “Inch bes es?” which means ‘how are you?” The boy and the two men he was with turned and came toward us and what followed was fairly typical among Armenians on such a random meeting.  Conversation was in Armenian — they speak French but no English — Hellos — who are you? where are you from? What are you doing here?  How can we help you? Do you need anything?… and then, “You must come home with us, my wife will want to meet you.”   It is a good thing we had a lunch date, otherwise we would have been carried off to their home.  (Do you see any resemblances?)

We did go on to have a great time with our cyclist friends (they cylcled from Paris to South Africa). We ate outdoors, vegan food, and had nearly 3 hours of good conversation.  Now, getting back to the Armenian theme, there are a couple of good sources for Armenian food (made by Armenians in Paris) and sold in grocery shops.  One place is Hratchian Brothers, in the 9th, but it is a bit far for us.  Closer to home we found a Middle Eastern grocery that has delicious delicacies and excellent bread.

Apricot jelly from Armenia to die for, and lavash — lavash bread to rival the best.

Yesterday was April 24 — the day Armenians commemorate the Armenian Genocide.  It is the day that the Ottoman Turks rounded up 250 of our leaders — writers, poets, musicians, clergy, political thinkers, professors and leading businessmen and murdered them.   Gomidas, whose statue is below, was one of those arrested.  He was a priest, composer and ethno-musician who gathered Armenian songs from villages in the countryside and annotated them.  He was imprisoned, but not murdered.  He lost his mind, however, given what he saw and died in Paris where he is buried.  Every year the Armenian community of Paris gathers here, at his statue, for the April 24th commemoration.  Usually the President of France comes to address the crowd.  We’ve heard Holland and Sarkozy here, and we understand that Macron came last year.  Alas — he is in Washington, D.C. this week and so he will miss seeing us!

We are always amazed at the number of young people who come and the fact that they all speak Armenian.  (Those kids on the right are wearing tee shirts of famous Armenian soccer players. The one on the left is wearing a photo of an Armenian hero (from California)  who led the victories during the War of Independence of Karabagh and was killed there.

I approached the woman I’m photographed with above because she was holding a photo I wanted to ask her about.  We were talking and talking — and suddenly we looked at each other and both said, “I know you!”  And we did.  We hadn’t seen each other in a couple of years, but George and I have been working with her sister on a book about the French Foreign Legion and the Armenians who fought in it. She and her husband have a barge docked in the St. Maartin canal (10th) that is a venue of various types of performances — musicians, bands, ethnic music performances — with a cafe/bar. She lives in Paris.

Earlier when we first arrived we headed to the church (where we had never been) for the Armenian mass and there we met another long time friend whom we hadn’t seen in years.

People were swarming in from all sides and the crowd began to swell within the area roped off by the police.  I should add that the location for this event is on the banks of the Seine, in the 8th. and so it is quite beautiful all around.  We had arrived at 4 pm, gone to the church for an hour or so, and now back here at the event location which was to start at 6 p.m.  We knew from past years that the program would last more than an hour and would be mostly in French.  So — what do we do?  We went for dinner!

We know of a brassiere close by that is pretty good and so we went and enjoyed a glass of wine and a light supper with cassis sorbet for dessert. Then walked the short distance back to the event in time to join in the march to the Turkish Embassy.  Well — truth be told — we didn’t make it all the way and headed home on the bus #28 which we had taken to get there.

Our nephews have been here for several days and left yesterday for Normandy.  But, while here, I’ve learned a couple of things…. George and I had been wondering what the orange bikes were that we’ve been seeing around the neighborhood..

We have been seeing these bikes in random locations, without locks and have been wondering what they are.  Our nephew who lives in Berlin filled us in.  Unlike the bikes for rent by the city which are lined up in racks and are grey, these are a private venture.  They are accessed by an app, the code is given that opens the lock (there is one) and you can ride the bike for a small fee for 20 minutes.  Then,,, you just leave the bike where ever you are.  There are electric motor scooters, too, that operate in the same way.  They even have a helmet tucked into a compartment in the scooter.  

Backtracking here a bit in days I do want to give you a little bit more about Paris and what we’ve been doing.  The first day that our nephews were here (with a girlfriend, too) we went to one of our favorite restaurants — Le Récamier — on a side street closed to vehicles, not far from the Bon Marché (department store).  The specialty here is soufflé

We had made reservations but inside was tooo hot and we didn’t want to sit outside since there would be a good chance someone would start smoking and ruin our meal.  We were lucky and got seated between — a covered area where smoking was not allowed, but was not too hot either.   These are the main course soufflés –mushroom, spinach, chicken.  Then we had dessert…. yes, of course, dark chocolate soufflés.  Each soufflé is served with a extra of whatever you are having — one pokes a hole in the middle and pours the extra into it. These are truly decadent and over-the-top delicious.

Before we left owner and chef Gerard Idoux came out and was happy to have a photo taken with us all. We were feeling great having downed two bottles of excellent wine and eaten to our hearts content. 

It was too early to go home and decided to head to Le Marais (the 4th)  — the Jewish quarter of Paris before WWII.  The Shoah Museum is here, though small, is powerful especially as it is set in the Jewish quarter where much of the history recorded took place.   In addition, the memorial to the Martyrs de la Deportation — the 200,000 people deported by Vichy France to Nazi camps — is another site one shouldn’t miss when visiting Paris.  It is behind the Notre Dame and in what were once tombs, not too far from here.

Just as we got to Le Maris and I was pointing out the Pompidou we noticed a placard announcing a free concert at 4 p.m. in the church we were standing in front.  We went in and had a cool one hour of wonderful music — Brahms, Beethoven and Debussy — piano and violin of extraordinary quality.  By the time we finished and walked a bit more, our group was hungry.  We opted for an outdoor cafe, hamburgers (fish burgers for us) before heading home, a light rain falling.  

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It is so nice to get  many positive comments and to know friends and family are enjoying these travel blogs of mine.  I almost didn’t include the photos of the playful cakes, because I feel that I’m putting too much emphasis on pastries. Glad I did — they seem to have been a hit.   It is hard not to focus on food as it is everywhere here in Paris.  Food is obviously very important — and high quality food at that.  Although one sees some signs of what we think of as junk food creeping into the scene, for the most food is real food and well made.  It is hard to get a bad meal in Paris — though not impossible.

We took the #70 bus again… this time crossing the Seine to the Right Bank. We got off at Chatelet and walked the rest of the way to the museum but before doing so I snapped the photo below of the Palais of Justice and the prison where Marie Antoinette and many others were held during the revolution.   

Before getting to the Pompidou, I thought I’d mention a couple of things that are useful to know when coming to Paris for the first time. When you ride the metro or the buses, always keep your white ticket (which is stamped in the meter when you get on). ‘Checkers’ sometimes wait at the exits to be sure everyone paid.  You have to show them your ticket in order to get out.  

And, as many of you know — you won’t ever get l’addition (the bill) in a restaurant without asking for it.  And, the wait staff NEVER comes by to ask if everything is OK after serving you.  They assume it is — otherwise you would say something.  And, never call a waiter garςon.  Waiters and waitresses are referred to as monsieur or madame.  

See that structure below that says TOILETTES.  I’ve never used one but I’ve heard they are really good when needed.  The charge is 50 cents per use.  If you use it, don’t hold the door open to let someone else in.  BECAUSE — when you slide the door closed, the entire inside is sprayed with a cleaning agent.  If someone else sneaks in to use the facility on the same 50cents, they will be sprayed as soon as the door closes.  I don’t know how many people have had a wash down, but I think a few have.  Have a good chuckle!  I think of it everytime I see one of these.  

In the background and the photos below you see the Pompidou which is in the 4th arrondissement, the only one that has a special name —Le Marais — as far as I know.   It is on the Right Bank… 

 I’ve rarely heard a Parisian refer to the Right or Left Banks.  Instead, they refer to location by arrondissement — which is an administrative district.  (There are 20 arrondissements, with #1 in the center -the first settlement of Paris — and each successive one continuing in clockwise fashion as it came into being.  The Seine runs through the center of the city, and the arrondissements circle around it).  The arrondissement  of an address is always given when someone is telling you where a place is. 

President of France George Pompidou commissioned the structure in the early 1970s.  It houses the largest collection of modern art in Europe.  You can imagine that it was not embraced by Parisians initially, but most, I think, now appreciate its innovative design and beauty.  We rode to the top on consecutive escalators after viewing the Sheila Hicks exhibit and had lunch with views of Paris all around us.

Sheila Hicks — weaver and worker with yarn.  What a gorgeous installations.  (That’s me, not her!)

Some of her most exquisite work were the small weavings seen here on the back wall.  Unfortunately, the glare was too much such that I couldn’t photograph them.

Since a child she has carried a notebook with her to make sketches.  Here is one of them.  Below you see some of the works in another major show here at the Pompidou — Chagall, Lissitzky, Malevitch — the Russian Avant-Gard in Vitebsk.  I’m including only two here — this one of Chagall flying over his town.  

And the one below – entitled simply ‘Above the City.”  (1914-1918)

And one more that George and I both loved…. entitled: The visit of the self-portrait (1918).   So interesting to contemplate 

A view of Paris through the dirty windows of the top floor — the Sacre Coeur is in the distant on the right.  

Georges — the restaurant at the top of the Pompidou Center. 

The sun shines,  the sky is blue and we’re thoroughly enjoying these days.  After our very leisurely morning coffee and a light breakfast, we decide what to do and where to go if nothing has been planned.  Sunday, we went to Luxembourg Gardens, and Monday we made a trip to the Pompidou Centre as we did not want to miss the Sheila Hicks show which ends April 30.   (Also –museum closing have to be checked as some are closed on Mondays, and others on Tuesday.s.. which the Pompidou is. Monday worked out well).

The city, at least our part of Paris, has emptied out of Parisians as it is school vacation week and many families leave for the countryside.  It doesn’t mean Paris is without — because families and school kids from around Europe descend on Paris as many countries share the same spring break.

For those who might not of had the pleasure of walking these gardens, Luxembourg is a huge park with something for everyone.  This open space bordered by these wonderful yellow flowers is in front of the French Senate building, behind where I am standing to take this photo.  The flowers and colors will change through the spring and summer. 

Some people come to sit and think, to read, or to have a chat with a friend. 

Others come to play chess or bocce, and some come to watch those playing.  

The kids come to sail their little boats on the lake or to take a ride on the carousel (no photo — it was too far from us)

We took a couple of seats here and enjoyed the comings and going of others while relaxing a bit. We were actually happy that the clouds moved in as it was too hot walking under the full sun.

Then we made our way out walking down one of these wonderful paths under a canopy of trees.  In addition to the Senate building,  there is an exhibition museum on the grounds which currently has a show of Tintoretto.  

Did I say that we walked the mile from our place to the Luxembourg Gardens?  We did and did the usual window gazing on the way.  We happened upon a special order cake-making shop and couldn’t resist taking these photos.   They give their web site and instructions that if you want to information go across the street to #23.  

What fun!!  Unfortunately, we couldn’t have a taste!