Paris, Day Three
After breakfast in our hotel, it was off to the Orsay. We decided to go there first to avoid crowds.
The museum is a former rail station; galleries line its sides. We spent a few hours wandering and even Sarah was paying attention. Margo drew on her art studies classes to provide great commentary. I found lots that I recognized. The farmer husband-and-wife of Jean'Francois Millet's The Angelus was integrated by Salvador Dali in several of his works. Manet's Luncheon on the Grass, reworked by Bow Wow Wow in the early 80s. (How sad is it that my primary identification of classical art is via pop album covers ...) Van Gogh's self-portrait. Seurat's bathers. The can-can girls of Toulouse-Lautrec. Degas' dancers. And the impressionist works of Monet and Renoir - I found myself wondering, when they're painting the micro, how they keep track of the macro in their heads - the overall impression?
Our heads once again full of art, we found a café for lunch. It would be hard to stick to a low-carb diet here. Bread is everywhere.
Then we got back on the Metro and off one stop later to walk a bridge across the Seine to the Île de la Cité, the larger of the two islands and site of the Notre Dame Cathedral.
We walked through the interior ...
... and though Sarah and I wanted to climb the tower, the line was long and slow so we passed. We did look at the gargoyles, though, and found the famous one on his elbows, watching the tourists.
Then we walked along the river to the tip of the island to take in a boat cruise. We'd barely left the dock when a "probleme mechanique" forced us to turn back and get onto another boat. We'd managed to curse transport in Dublin, London, and now Paris. The cruise went up to the Eiffel Tower, then back and around the island before redocking, with lots of informational commentary along the way. There's a lot of history to take in in that stretch of river alone.
Afterwards we walked through the Latin Quarter and settled in the Luxembourg Garden. Parts of Paris are laid out along straight lines - sweeping plazas are built along the lines, and line of sight connects two features at either end. We walked across one such line of sight in the garden, and not expecting it, it's very impressive to see. You're just going, dum de dum, then at some point you look to one side, then the other, and realize you're in the middle of something huge.
We paid a few Euros to access a large playground. Sarah got to be a monkey again and work at climbing a smaller Eiffel tower.
The sun was starting to set as we made our way through the Metro to the Eiffel Tower. First we found a café for dinner. This time we were clearly in a touristy area, yet the food was still very good. More Bordeaux, this time Saint-Emilion ... tangy. While we waited for our check ("l'addicion, sîl vous plait") we noticed that we were in that first-ten-minutes of the hour, so Sarah and I stole away to the street corner to take it in.
Then we were off to the tower itself.
But first, we treated Sarah to a carousel ride across the street. She was already giddy with excitement, and we wanted to give her a night to remember.
Then back to the tower. There are three levels. One contains the Jules Verne restaurant and observation space, and two is observation space and toilets and gift shops. One and two can be reached by elevator or stair. Three is closer to the top and only reached by elevator. You enter at the base of one of the four feet. By the time we'd arrived, one foot was closed, one foot was stair-only (cheaper and a shorter line), and the other two elevator-only. We split up so that I could take the stairs and agreed to meet on the west corner of the second level.
The climb wasn't bad, but the openness of it creeped me out. Most observation decks are enclosed in glass, so you get a sense of protection, but this was all steel, and even with mesh around you, you realize that if, say, something were to slip out of your pocket, it would be gone forever. This scrotum-tightening vertigo kept me in the creeps the whole time up there. But I controlled my shakes enough to get a picture or two, tightly clutching something at all times. Here's a view toward La Defense:
Margo and Sarah joined me half an hour later. Margo immediately felt like she'd hurl and didn't dare approach the edges. But Sarah, being a dumb kid, had no fears at all, so we wandered while Margo made the obligatory "Guess where I'm calling from?" calls.
Back downstairs on terra firma, we didn't exactly kiss the ground, but felt close to it. We made the Metro journey back to Montmarte, and this time I got a shot of the Moulin Rouge at night.
Then it was dessert and Couintreau at another café, then off to bed.
The museum is a former rail station; galleries line its sides. We spent a few hours wandering and even Sarah was paying attention. Margo drew on her art studies classes to provide great commentary. I found lots that I recognized. The farmer husband-and-wife of Jean'Francois Millet's The Angelus was integrated by Salvador Dali in several of his works. Manet's Luncheon on the Grass, reworked by Bow Wow Wow in the early 80s. (How sad is it that my primary identification of classical art is via pop album covers ...) Van Gogh's self-portrait. Seurat's bathers. The can-can girls of Toulouse-Lautrec. Degas' dancers. And the impressionist works of Monet and Renoir - I found myself wondering, when they're painting the micro, how they keep track of the macro in their heads - the overall impression?
Our heads once again full of art, we found a café for lunch. It would be hard to stick to a low-carb diet here. Bread is everywhere.
Then we got back on the Metro and off one stop later to walk a bridge across the Seine to the Île de la Cité, the larger of the two islands and site of the Notre Dame Cathedral.
We walked through the interior ...
... and though Sarah and I wanted to climb the tower, the line was long and slow so we passed. We did look at the gargoyles, though, and found the famous one on his elbows, watching the tourists.
Then we walked along the river to the tip of the island to take in a boat cruise. We'd barely left the dock when a "probleme mechanique" forced us to turn back and get onto another boat. We'd managed to curse transport in Dublin, London, and now Paris. The cruise went up to the Eiffel Tower, then back and around the island before redocking, with lots of informational commentary along the way. There's a lot of history to take in in that stretch of river alone.
Afterwards we walked through the Latin Quarter and settled in the Luxembourg Garden. Parts of Paris are laid out along straight lines - sweeping plazas are built along the lines, and line of sight connects two features at either end. We walked across one such line of sight in the garden, and not expecting it, it's very impressive to see. You're just going, dum de dum, then at some point you look to one side, then the other, and realize you're in the middle of something huge.
We paid a few Euros to access a large playground. Sarah got to be a monkey again and work at climbing a smaller Eiffel tower.
The sun was starting to set as we made our way through the Metro to the Eiffel Tower. First we found a café for dinner. This time we were clearly in a touristy area, yet the food was still very good. More Bordeaux, this time Saint-Emilion ... tangy. While we waited for our check ("l'addicion, sîl vous plait") we noticed that we were in that first-ten-minutes of the hour, so Sarah and I stole away to the street corner to take it in.
Then we were off to the tower itself.
But first, we treated Sarah to a carousel ride across the street. She was already giddy with excitement, and we wanted to give her a night to remember.
Then back to the tower. There are three levels. One contains the Jules Verne restaurant and observation space, and two is observation space and toilets and gift shops. One and two can be reached by elevator or stair. Three is closer to the top and only reached by elevator. You enter at the base of one of the four feet. By the time we'd arrived, one foot was closed, one foot was stair-only (cheaper and a shorter line), and the other two elevator-only. We split up so that I could take the stairs and agreed to meet on the west corner of the second level.
The climb wasn't bad, but the openness of it creeped me out. Most observation decks are enclosed in glass, so you get a sense of protection, but this was all steel, and even with mesh around you, you realize that if, say, something were to slip out of your pocket, it would be gone forever. This scrotum-tightening vertigo kept me in the creeps the whole time up there. But I controlled my shakes enough to get a picture or two, tightly clutching something at all times. Here's a view toward La Defense:
Margo and Sarah joined me half an hour later. Margo immediately felt like she'd hurl and didn't dare approach the edges. But Sarah, being a dumb kid, had no fears at all, so we wandered while Margo made the obligatory "Guess where I'm calling from?" calls.
Back downstairs on terra firma, we didn't exactly kiss the ground, but felt close to it. We made the Metro journey back to Montmarte, and this time I got a shot of the Moulin Rouge at night.
Then it was dessert and Couintreau at another café, then off to bed.
posted by Michael Nelson at 1:50 am
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