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Bye Bye Bombay (Sob! Sob!). Hiya London (Yes, Again!)

Jan30

Friday, January 20, 2017

Bombay-London

On a red letter day for America (although many I know associate it with black for mourning), when Donald Trump got sworn in as 45th President of the United States of America, I arrived in London. It was one of the saddest flights I can ever remember as I sobbed bitterly through half of it. It had been a very painful departure from my brother Russel and my Dad and the two of us had wept freely—since our partings in the past have never been anywhere as tearful, I was left with a very fearful feeling that was rolled up in all sorts of dark premonitions—God forbid that anything should happen to either one of us. When Shakespeare said that Parting is such sweet sorrow, he had not seen our parting. There was nothing sweet about it—just hard raw painful grieving at saying goodbye.

Which, when you come to think about it, means that I had a splendid time in Bombay and made the very best of my time with my loved ones there. The young man who was seated besides me and whose heart broke for my loss said, Your father is so blessed to have a daughter who loves him as much as you do. As you can imagine, this only triggered more tears as my shoulders shook with the enormity of my loss. Still, that said, the flight was comfortable and being that it was in the middle of the night, I as glad I snatched about 6 hours of sleep—when I wasn’t crying, I was asleep!—which left me fresh as a daisy when we alighted in London after flying over the beautifully illuminated monuments of the Thames—Tower Bridge, the London Eye, The Shard, etc. On a cloudless night, they glittered like jewels just before we touched down.

Immigration was the worst I have ever been through—it took a whole hour and twenty minutes. But there was no wait for my baggage. I grabbed it, walked briskly to the Tube, hopped into it to Holborn and was delighted to have a young man offer to assist with one of my cases as we negotiated a few stairs. Then I was in a black cab heading to NYU where my other case had been stowed. I spent the next hour sorting through my stuff, emptying the little carryon case that my friend Raquel had lent me, putting together a back pack with the few things I would need for the next week while in Oxford and Essex and then I was off. I stowed off some of my things in the Porter’s Room and left to meet Raquel.

Into the Tube I hopped again on a very chilly day. But the sun was out and flooded the city with golden light. It was glorious. In about half an hour, I was in Maida Vale, taking the stairs up to Raquel’s place where I met her and was sorry to find that her son was unwell and had stayed home from school. We spent about half an hour together, exchanged the gifts I had brought her from India and took possession with delight of the gift she had bought me—Michael Chabon’s new book Moonglow, which she had got signed from me by him. I did not stay long as I had heaps to do. We said our goodbyes and I left on the Tube again and back to NYU.

I spent the next hour in my office, eating lunch (Curried Laksa Soup from Sainsbury’s) and getting some work done on my computer and then I left with my back pack to check into my digs for the next two nights—the Youth Hostel at Bolsover Street in Fitzrovia, not far from NYU at all—which is why I picked it. I found it soon enough (after a twenty minute trek) and found my bunk bed in a 6 bedded female bunk. It was all very next and clean and comfortable and after stashing my backpack in the cabinet with a lock, I left for my next appointment.

I was headed next to Victoria where I reached on the Tube from Oxford Circus (to which I walked from my hostel). I arrived at Elizabeth Street to buy a bottle of perfume from Jo Loves and then I walked to Chelsea for my next appointment—Tea with my friends Michael and Cynthia at their home. They were waiting for me with hot lemony tea and slices of stolen—one of which Cynthia gifted me. We had a lovely visit indeed but I left them at 5.30 to keep my next appointment. A 6.30 pm coffee meeting at Café Veragnano on Charing Cross Street with Natalie Golding whom I was meeting for the first time after following her on Twitter for a couple of year. She turned out to be a lovely bubbly person and our chatter was constant and fun. I had the mocha latte and we split a chocolate tart—which was really delicious. I chose the place as my friend Rahul had told me that it was London’s oldest coffee shop and one of the best renowned.

An hour later, I left with her on the Tube again to get back to my hostel where, being deeply jetlagged, I fell asleep after brushing my teeth in exactly half an hour at 8. 30 pm.

Until tomorrow, cheerio…

Last Day in London: More Packing, More Clearing and Giving a Lecture at SOAS

Dec31

December 14, 2016, Wednesday: London

My Last Day in London Dawned:

Hard to believe that almost five whole months had passed since I had arrived to make London my home. And yet, it seemed to me like an eternity. The things I had done (moving into Bethnal Green) and the places I had visited (Victoria Park, the Museum of Childhood, the Ragged School Museum) seemed such a long time ago to me! And now finally, it was all over. I would be flying to India on the morrow, spending five weeks with my Dad in his home in Bombay, then one more week in the UK and at the end of January, I would wing my way back home to the USA after exactly six months away!

So how exactly did I spend my last day?

More Packing, More Clearing and Saying my Goodbyes:

After leaving my place in Maida Vale, I took the Tube to the Burger King at Tottenham Court Road for breakfast. Feeling strengthened, I made my way across Bedford Square to my office and set straight off to the task of finalizing my packing. With all that done and one suitcase closed up and locked, I took it downstairs to the office of my colleague who offered to hold it for me until my return from India–which was very kind of her indeed.

I then set out to say my goodbyes to the many folk who had made my Fellowship so fruitful–administrative and support staff, a couple of faculty members who had been such a source of friendship and support during my time. The sudden death of our beloved site director at NYU-London had put such a damper on everyone’s spirits but with the end-of-semester around the corner, holiday parties were still being held on schedule. I would be missing our holiday party which is tomorrow evening as I fly out tomorrow morning. As I went from one office to the next saying goodbye and thank-you to my colleagues, I felt an unfamiliar mixture of feelings–sadness at parting from them, but relief that time had passed and I would soon be seeing (first) my Dad and brother Russel in Bombay and later Llew, my other brother Roger and his family in the States.

Lunch was the last bits and bobs from my stash of office snacks–mainly cookies which I had with a cup of hot chocolate from the kitchen. Then, I set about preparing for my evening’s lecture at the School of Oriental and African Studies at the University of London as I had been invited to conduct a seminar there. I had already sent them the Powerpoint presentation I intended to make and all I needed to do was to focus on my invited talk and put myself in a calm frame of mind to take questions.

Giving an Invited Lecture at the Seminar at SOAS:

My talk at the Center for Migration and Diasporic Studies at SOAS was scheduled for 5.00pm, but I had been invited by Prof. Parvati Raman to meet her at 4.00 pm in the main Reception area. It was good to meet her and at her invitation, we set out for a coffee in one of the lounges.  It is a good thing that SOAS is just behind our NYU-London premises. I know the building well and have used its library on a couple of occasions in the past.

Paru had invited a couple of her colleagues to join us and before long, we were a spirited few at the table discussing all things–from the situation regarding academic hiring in the UK (dismal, as it is everywhere) to the kind of students who would be attending my talk (interdisciplinary ones). It was very interesting and time flew by.

At 4. 50 pm, we made our way to the classroom in which the seminar was to be held. My Powerpoint Presentation was up and running on the screen and in a very short space of time, Paru introduced me to an almost full classroom and I began to talk about my forthcoming book on Britain’s Anglo-Indians: The Invisibility of Assimilation. I spoke for about 45 minutes in a talk that was recorded. It was followed by a very interesting Question and Answer session as the students asked many questions that I found a lot of fun to answer.

By 6.45 pm, it was all over and I had finished my last professional commitment in London and was free to think about winging it homewards to India. I said Bye and Thanks to Paru and returned to my office at NYU.

Getting an Uber Cab to Maida Vale:

I had called for a mini cab to take me to Maida Vale as I had a large suitcase I needed to transport there–it would go with me to India early tomorrow morning.

However, the cab simply did not show. While waiting downstairs in the lobby for it, I ran into an Indian woman, the mother of one of our students from Chandigarh, India, who suggested I use Uber. I had never used it before and had always meant to download the app on to my phone. Well, I had no choice. She guided me on how to download the app, how to hail the cab and how to go about tracking its arrival. That was it! I am now sold on Uber and hope that I can continue to use it in India.

The Uber cabbie turned up soon enough and, within ten minutes, I was in a cab and on my way to Maida Vale where I reached about 25 minutes later. Then began the difficult haul of my case up Raquel’s stairs–she has no elevator–to the third floor where I stashed it for the night. I spent most of the rest of the evening organizing and repacking the last of my bits and pieces that were in the room I had occupied and then I was ready to say goodbye to everyone and get to bed on my last night in T’Smoke.

Early tomorrow morning at 6.00 am, I have a cabbie coming to pick me up to take me to Heathrow airport for my 10.00 am flight to Bombay.

I will not be blogging again until I return to the UK on January 20, 2017. Thanks a million for following me and for being such faithful readers of my blog. It has been a wild ride–a crazy five months. Oftentimes I awoke actually wondering where I was. But, in the end, although I missed my family members far more than I have ever done while away from home and although I am convinced that I will not take any more professional gigs that keep Llew and me apart, I am grateful for every one of the opportunities that came my way, every single experience I had and every person I met. I wish you all a Very Happy Holiday Season, a Christmas that’s Merry and Bright and a Healthy and Fulfilling New Year.

Until 2017 comes around, cheerio…

A Visit to Holland Park and the new Museum of Design

Dec31

December 13, 2016, Tuesday: London

A Visit to Holland Park and the New Museum of Design

Another Early Start:

It has become routine for me to get no more than six hours of sleep per night. Accordingly, I awoke in Maida Vale as the rest of the household bustled around getting ready for their day. Taking things back and forth between my office and my home takes some organization and I am trying to keep my wits clearly about me as I go about the task of basically closing shop in London.

My aim today was to view the new Museum of Design that used to be at Shad Thames where I had once met a friend for a coffee.  After deciding to re-locate, thanks to Terence Conran who seems to have poured moolah into the project, the museum has a new home. During my absence, it re-opened with much fanfare in Holland Park at Kensington and had I spent more time googling its exact location, I would have taken the Tube to Kensington High Street and found my way from there. As it turned out, I got off at Holland Park–which meant a really long walk to get to the other (Kensington) side of the park before I found the building.

Visiting the Museum of Design:

I did not have a lot of time to spare for the museum, so I had to hurry through it. Besides, Holland Park is one of my favorite parts of London and walking through it always gives me a high. I tended to linger there–which left me less time for the museum. I associate the Park, in my mind, with the TV series As Time Goes By (my favorite British TV series of all time!) Lionel and Jean, the protagonists, first meet in Holland Park when young. Almost forty years later, Holland Park is the setting for a lot of their meetings when they reinstate contact and re-ignite interest in one another. I have taken many pictures, over the years, in the exact spots where the shooting of the TV series occurred–yes, I am that keen on it! I have also visited the street and the house that was their TV home for many years while the series was shot–at St. James’ Gardens, not far from Holland Park. Hence, I lingered in the park on a cold morning when so few people were about.

Eventually, a good half hour after I emerged from the Tube station, I found the Museum in its spiffy new home–all glass and sharp angles. The architect is John Pawson with whose work I am unfamiliar. I was fortunate enough to get free entry into the Museum with my Met ID card, but I have to make clear that while there were no ‘free’ bits in the former location, in this new avatar, the Museum has left its top most floor ‘free’. You only pay for the special exhibits that keep changing frequently.

The top floor, in my opinion, was the best part of the it all. On walls that are hung with interesting objects from the beginning of the twentieth century, you can trace the history and development of everyday things that we use while taking their design for granted. There are some museum pieces, for instance, that we did actually once use. For instance, there are brick-size and brick-heavy cell phones that I can clearly remember Llew possessing! I went rapidly through them and really do wish I had more time to take it all in.

Going swiftly from one floor to the next, I found that the best part of the museum for me was its internal design. I loved the concept of accessing each floor through stairs and elevators on opposite banks of the building. The Modernist vision is very obvious and I enjoyed it all.

Off to Waitrose for a Coffee:

I cannot pass Waitrose without going in for a few goodies and since I was starving by this point, I got my free café latte and delicious freshly-baked pecan rolls and ate them at the counter overlooking Kensington High Street. Then, I popped my head into the Oxfam thrift store to look for vintage jewelry and finding none, I hopped into a bus that took me to my office at NYU.

More Packing:

I had a big chore to undertake for my office still needed to be cleared out. I finally finished packing one suitcase that I could carry to India and tried to cram everything else into the other suitcase that I would leave behind in London. The snacks and foods I had left in my office over five months needed to be consumed–and so lunch was rather a mishmash of soup, Border’s Chocolate Hazelnut Cookies, M&S Pistachio and Almond Cookies and Prawn Crackers from Waitrose! Although it sounds an easy task, I have to tell you that I was mentally and physically exhausted by the time I finished stashing all my things away.

 Off to Buy Shoes:

Since I would be in Bombay for Christmas and New Year and since I had a rather shabby pair of black court shoes that needed replacement, I set off for Oxford Street to buy myself a pair. I took the Tube to Marble Arch and set off for the large M&S there, when lo and behold, I passed by Next and saw the perfect pair right in the window. Now what are the odds that such a thing would happen? I marched right in and decided that, if the price was right and they were comfortable, I would buy them right away.

How lucky was I? The shoes were very reasonably priced, fit me like a glove (although I did not know my size in British measurements and merely gave the salesman my American size) and actually looked good on my feet. So, without a whole lot of fuss and minimal time, I found exactly what I wanted and was out.

I did, however, get eventually to Marks and Sparks as I wanted to buy a rich fruit cake to carry to India for Christmas. I found the cake too without too much wastage of time and armed with my purchases, I got back on the Tube towards home.

Finishing the Gingerbread House:

Jonas and I spent some time working on the gingerbread house that we had started constructing two days ago. This was the fun day as it involved decorating the house with candy. Jonas had a field day and as we continued our hard work on the project, his mother got dinner organized.

We sat down to eat a simple but delicious salad with bread, cheese and crackers and were ready to call it a night soon enough as it was a school night for Jonas.

Hard to believe that my long stint in London is coming to a swift end.

Until tomorrow, cheerio…

Packing, Posting and Meeting Friends for Lunch and Tea

Dec30

December 12, 2016, Monday: London

A Day Spent Mainly Packing:

Awaking by 7. 30 am in Maida Vale I used my phone to catch up with Twitter and email. It was not long before I washed, showered, got dressed and left to spend the entire morning at my office at NYU. I stopped at Burger King at Tottenham Court Road to pick up a breakfast sandwich and coffee and fortifying myself with this meal, I made my way to my office at Bedford Square.

In four days, I would be leaving for India where I would be spending 5 weeks. I was uncertain exactly what I should pack as the cool season (I cannot call it winter) is so mild that the kind of clothes one would wear in the UK in the summer would be just fine. On the other hand, the evenings can be cool and a couple of cardigans would not be out of place. I also had a bunch of shopping to do and since I had checked on the net and found out that I could take only one suitcase to India, I had such a hard time moving things from one suitcase to the next and weighing as I went along. My intention was to leave one suitcase in the premises of NYU and carry one of my suitcases to India. With Christmas shopping for family members, goodies such as Christmas puddings, Quality Street and Celebrations chocolates, lots of packets of powdered soups, a large fruit cake from M&S, packets of biscuits and other goodies taking space among my clothing, it took a great deal of ingenuity for me to try to finesse my packing in the most practical way.

Off for Lunch with a New Friend:

At 1.00 pm, I had a lunch appointment with a new friend I have made, Devika. She had suggested we meet at a South Indian restaurant called Chettinad that was right off Tottenham Court Road. It took me five minutes to walk from my office to the restaurant and I reached about ten minutes before Devika arrived.

We decided to have the Lunch Special which provided rice, a non-vegetarian (chicken) curry, a dal, a dry vegetable, a dosa stuffed with potatoes and a serving of raita. Everything was delicious and Devika and I had a lovely long catch-up on a number of aspects about our lives as we got to know each other better.

It was about 3.00 pm when Devika and I left the restaurant and made our way to Victoria where I had to keep my next appointment. We hopped into a bus as I intended to get to M&S to pick up a pair of shoes before my appointment…but as the bus crept along Oxford Street that was jammed with holiday shoppers, I changed my mind and decided to keep shoe-shopping for the next day.

Tea with a Friend at Victoria:

I had made plans to meet my friend Reshma at the lobby of the Grosvenor Hotel in Victoria as the station is too crowded. It had also begun drizzling…so Reshma was grateful to have to wait indoors. I arrived at the scheduled hour and we had a very affectionate reunion. She is the mother of a student I once taught–and, funnily enough, we have become good friends. Reshma had spent quite a long time in India and was not around in London for most of my stay. It was, therefore, a pleasure to be able to spend an evening with her.

We returned to Café Rouge which was the same place in which we had tea the last time we had met. Over decaff tea and a caffe latte, we had a long catch-up and had a lot to discuss.

But a couple of hours later, it was time for us to part company. Reshma saw me into a bus that took me to the Tube stop and from there, I went home after a day filled with practicalities and the company of good friends.

Until tomorrow, cheerio…

 

 

 

 

Mass in Westminster Cathedral, Breakfast at Dominique Ansel’s Bakery and At the Museum of London

Dec30

December 11, Sunday: London

An Early Start:

Ever since I had arrived in London in late-July, I had been promising myself that I would attend Sunday Mass at Westminster Cathedral–the Catholic Church on Victoria Road (not to be confused with the more-famous Anglican Westminster Abbey). This would be the day I would go to the 9.00 am Mass–which involved leaving my friend Raquel’s place at 8.15 to make it in time.

Mass and Christmas Market at Westminster Cathedral:

Mass was wonderful. There was a visiting delegation of people from Italy and a bunch of Filipinos who conduct the services. I received Communion and at the end of Mass left, quite unexpectedly, to poke my head into the Christmas Market that they said was on in a Hall behind the church. I ended up finding about four DVDs of the British TV shows I have been collecting as well as two scented candles and with those items in a bag, I hurried off to meet my friend Roz for breakfast.

Breakfast at Dominique Ansel Bakery at Victoria:

My friend Roz and I had agreed that when I returned from my travels in Israel and France, we would meet for breakfast at Dominique Ansel’s Bakery at Victoria. Raquel and Jonas also decided to join us there and as I stood waiting for a bus to get me there from Victoria Road, I hoped I would not be late. I called Roz to tell her that I was running late and then along came a bus. I was at the spot at 10.20 only to find that Raquel and Jonas had arrived there and that Roz was keeping our spot in the line.

As is pretty well-known by now, Dominique Ansel, the Parisien patisieur took New York by storm when he invented the Cronut–a cross between a croissant and a donut. I had eaten one of these the day I took the coach from Victoria to Leeds and I had loved every last crumb of it. This time, with a Hazelnut Croissant in my hand, I have to admit that it was not quite as good as I expected. Roz and Raquel were also quite disappointed. Raquel found (as I did) that the hazelnut flavor was much too mild and Roz simply felt that there was too much going on with the concoction. With hot chocolate and coffee to wash our treats down, we had a lovely chat and then left. Roz said goodbye to us as she left for her next appointment after wishing us both Very Happy Holidays.

Off to Jo Loves:

Being on Elizabeth Street, I had decided that I would pop into Jo Loves, the perfume store on the same street and that I would take Raquel there with me and introduce her to the place. It was packed. I could barely get a foot in but somehow Raquel, Jonas and I managed to squeeze our way in and try out some of their offerings. I finally left with their ten perfume spritz sampler which would allow me to try them all and then buy a bottle of the perfume of my choice. It was a lovely idea and a delightful way to enable patrons to choose the fragrance that worked for them. I resolved to try the ten fragrances over the holidays and then buy the bottle of my choice when I returned to London again.

Off with Jonas to the Museum of London:

The next stop on my agenda was a quick nip into the Museum of London in order to see the golden coach of the Mayor of London before it disappears for the next four years for renovation. Jonas, Raquel’s 10-year old son, was keen to go with me and it was with him for company, that we bid goodbye to his mother and set off by bus and then Tube for the Museum.

We arrived at the Barbican soon enough and walked the short distance to the Museum of London. We had a very nice time getting there and after inquiring exactly where the coach was, we set off to find it. While there, I had the most bizarre experience. I requested a 20-Something to take a picture of Jonas and me standing by the coach. She told me that she was busy (she had been gazing at a display and doing nothing else!) and could not. I thanked her and said that I would try to find someone else. She replied that she did not like my attitude! I should have realized then that there was probably something wrong with her (mental illness being such a silent affliction!). I responded, “My attitude? I’m not sure I know what you mean.” To which she suddenly flared up and said, “You’re flirting with me! Stop flirting with me!” Okay, that was it. I had caught a nut job in full throttle. “Flirting with you?” I laughed. “Don’t kid yourself.” To which, she let out a stream of foul language despite that fact that I had a little boy with me. “Mind your language.” I said. “You are in the company of a child.” And with that, we walked away and found another sweet family whom we then requested to take our picture. Poor Jonas, the most timid little boy in the world, was shaking and it was all I could do to calm him down and tell him to try to overlook an unhappy woman who was probably having a bad day.

Off to NYU:

From the Museum, we took the Tube and made our way together to Tottenham Court Road so that I could get to my office at NYU where my suitcase and other belongings had been stashed. I was keen to get a hold of my computer and I carried it back with me to Raquel’s home to which I was then headed. Jonas, by then, had grown deeply exhausted and adamant about going back home. The entire morning had been too much for him to take and our encounter with the crazy lady, had ruined his mood.

So back on the Tube we went to Maida Vale and by 3.00 pm, the exhausted Jonas just flopped on the sofa with the telly while I sat with Raquel and chatted.

Making a Gingerbread House:

I was quite content to spend the evening at home with my friends and when Jonas invited me to make a Gingerbread House with him from the kit that his mother had bought him, I was delighted to comply. Not only would it allow me to continue to spend time with a kid I love, but it was the first-ever gingerbread house I would ever make and I was keen to give it a go. The next couple of hours flew by as Raquel got a spot of dinner together for us in the dining room. We sat down to eat pasta, meatballs, a delicious salad and cheese and crackers while having a nice chat with the entire family in attendance. And before we knew it, the day had ended and it was time to hit the sack.

Until tomorrow, cheerio…

Final Day in Paris and Return to London

Dec30

December 10, 2016, Saturday: Paris-London

Final Day in Paris and Return to London.

And so the day finally dawned when I would leave the City of Lights and get back to London. I awoke at 6.30 am, spent an hour catching up through wifi on email and Twitter and at 7.30 am, I began to look for breakfast. For the last couple of days, I had been trying to finish up all the food in my fridge and so I ate bits and bobs and went down to the vending machine for a mocha latte. I began packing right after as my flight from Charles de Gaulle airport was at 6.05 pm. This basically left me with the whole day to go where I pleased when my packing was done. But I was really so exhausted after all the walking I had done for the past week, that I simply stayed local. After accomplishing a great deal of packing, I took a break for a shower and then left my place to take the tram to Stade Charlety, the next stop, to get some chocolate from Franprix for the friends with whom I would be staying in London for a few days. Takign the tram ticked off the last To-Do item on my Paris List!

Back in my place with my boxes of chocolates, I continued packing, got rid of my garbage, emptied my fridge and put the last bits of my food together in a makeshift lunch that included the last of my smoked salmon, salad leaves, salad dressing, blue cheese and mixed nuts with honey-ginger yoghurt and macarons for dessert. By 1.30 pm, I washed up my lunch things and returned them to the kitchen (plate, bowl, glass, cutlery). I cleaned up, took pictures of my room and by 1.45, I was down at the Reception and returning my keys and saying goodbye to the place I have now called home twice in my life. I thanked them profusely downstairs for providing such a safe, comfortable and reasonably-priced space.

From the metro station, I took the RER (B) directly to Charles de Gaulle airport where I arrived at exactly 3.00pm for my 6.00 pm Air France flight to London. I arrived at Heathrow at 7.30 pm local time and taking the Tube, I alighted at Warwick Avenue where I reached at about 10.00 pm. I walked to my friend Raquel’s dupleix flat where her husband Chris came to give me a hand with my baggage expecting me to have an outsized case after three weeks away from London. As it turned out, it amazed them all to realize that I had traveled with just a small backpack.

Raquel very kindly fixed me a bowl of her pasta and meatballs and after a long free-wheeling chinwag, I gave them the gifts I had brought for them (Fragonard perfume for Raquel, chocolates for Chris and Jonas) and then called it a night.

It was great to be back in London (which is like a second home to me) and to feel that easy sense of familiarity—although, to be perfectly fair, within a day of being in Paris, it had felt like home to be as well!

Until tomorrow, cheerio…

 

 

 

     

           

 

 

 

Exhausting Second-Last Day in Paris: Parc Montsourris, Eiffel Tower, La Defence, Sacre-Coeur, Musee de Louvre

Dec30

December 9, 2016, Friday: Paris

An Exhausting Second-Last Day in Paris—Eiffel Tower, La Defence, Sacre-Coeur and The Louvre

Awaking at Cite-Universitaire to the sound of the tram bell on Boulevarde Jourdan, I showered, dressed and decided to try to find a coffee nearer at hand than the café of the complex (which was a five minute walk away in the adjoining building). The Receptionist on duty, the lovely Morgane, showed me how to use the vending machine and for 65 cents, I got myself a café latte and walked with it and my Pierre Herme croissant Poire William across the street into Parc Montsourris. This venture ticked another item off my To-Do List as I had promised myself that I would try to find the time for a ramble in this park in which I have spent many a lazy hour in past years.

Breakfast in Parc Montsourris:

There are not a lot of visitors in Parc Montsourris at 8.30 am on a late autumn morning. The decidedly nippy weather does not attract too many—and not on a working morning. However, there were a few dog-walkers around, a few energetic joggers and a couple of Asian men doing tai chi exercises! I munched on my croissant and sipped my coffee while my ankles were sniffed by curious dogs. It was great to start the day in this serene fashion as it grew frenzied as it progressed for I was trying too hard to fit in a whole lot of major sights into my second-last day—in order to leave tomorrow free for re-packing and closing shop in my room at Cite-Universitaire.

On the Metro to Climb the Eiffel Tower:

My main aim of the day was to make it to the summit of the Eiffel Tower—another first-time experience for me. Every time I have been to Paris in the past, the serpentine lines have put me off trying to get to the top. Since it was winter, I presumed there’d be fewer tourists and that the wait would be shorter.

I rode the No. 6 metro train towards Charles de Gaulle/L’Etoile and got off at Bir-Hakeim. If the name sounds familiar, it is the spot in Afro-French history notorious for one of the most important French battles ever fought during World War II. There is information about this battle on the platform of the metro station (which is overground).

Viewing the Jewish Memorials of the Velodrome d’Hiver (the Vel d’Hiv):

The metro stop of Bir-Hakeim is where you get off to see the Eiffel Tower. But it is also where the notorious Velodrome d’Hiver once stood. It was a stadium for cycling tournaments and it had once attracted thousands of Parisians to its crowded stands. During World War II, after Paris was occupied by the Nazis and the Jewish purge began, Parisian police began rounding up Jews from the Marais and bussing them to the Vel d’Hiv where they were held for five days with barely any food or water. A number of children and elderly Jews perished here even before they were further bussed to Drancy or Beaune from where they were deported to the concentration camps. I had become aware of the Vel d’Hiv and its association with World War II history after reading the wonderful novel by Tatiana de Rosney called Sarah’s Key—of which a rather wonderful movie has also been made. (It is, in fact, a text in the course I teach on ‘Migration, Marginalization and Partition’ at NYU).

Descending from the metro platform in the elevator to ground level, I asked the staff at the ticket window where I could find the memorials. I had already visited one of them before—it was then a large marble slab crowned with wreaths on the main road. But when I got there this time, I found the entire area cordoned off behind construction partitions. On reading the information available around it, I discovered that a major renovation project is currently on and that the small memorial is going to become a most impressive spot with a visitor center and other such monuments added to it. It will probably be finished in the next couple of years.

However, the ticketing clerk also directed me across the main road to the Quai de Grenelle where another monument to the fallen Jews is to be found. I followed his instructions, crossed the street and found myself in a small strip of garden—rather forlorn at this time of year—with a very large and impressive sculpture at the end of the pathway on the Isle de Grenelle (the third island in Paris about which not many people know. It is the same island that also contains a miniature version of the Statue of Liberty). I walked along the pathway and reached the sculpture which depicts a Jewish family of varied ages sitting in despair around their meagre belongings with little knowledge of the fact that they were being moved towards their deaths. I found the monument deeply moving.

Off to the Eiffel Tower:

Having ticked another item off my To-Do List, I walked quickly for another ten minutes towards the Eiffel Tower. As I had expected, the line was barely there. I reached at about 10.30 and stood in line to get a ticket for about 15 minutes and for another five minutes to get into the high-speed elevators that whisk you to the top for 17 euros. Had I come in the summer, I would have waited in line for at least two hours!

I have to say that I was excited about getting to the top of the Eiffel Tower. I have always loved this monument, the strange vision of Charles Eiffel who thought it okay to create a great wrought-iron tower on the banks of the Seine that would rival every other building in height and prominence.  Its wonderful design fascinates me and I love the decorative work around its various tiers. Going up, however, is altogether another experience and I loved every second of it.

The ride up in the elevator is itself quite chest-heaving for you rise to unbelievable heights so quickly that you are likely to feel a twinge of vertigo—I certainly did—until you adjust to the sudden difference. You will also find your ears popping at the difference in air pressure. There are also stairs, of course, and you can climb up all the way to the top—but I was not built of such stern stuff (at least not after having climbed to the top of Notre-Dame and the Arc de Triomphe on this visit!). When you get off at the first level, you are amazed at the sights you see. Sadly, although there was no rain, the air pollution in Paris had caused a hazy smog to settle over the city. The pictures I got were, therefore, not the best. But as I circumnavigated the city, I saw every monument and could pick it out so clearly: the Dome of Les Invalides Church, the mountain (Montmartre) topped by the Church of Sacre-Coeur, the many bridges over the Seine, etc. There are restaurants and souvenir stores and all sorts of attractions to keep the visitor busy in addition to the thrill of taking pictures or posing for selfies against the backdrop of Baron Haussmann’s glorious city.

When you are done on this floor, you take the elevator again to another level which allows you to climb to the summit. Here you can see the office that Charles Eiffel used when the tower was under construction. It is the same office in which he entertained a visitor in the form of a fellow-inventor Thomas Alva Edison of the USA who used the tower and its height to test his own wireless and radio inventions. The view from this level is even more scintillating for the mountain on which Sacre-Coeur stands is dwarfed. You also can see the Arc de Triomphe very clearly as well as the avenues that radiate from out of it to form a star (the Etoile) after which the entire square (or circle) is named. You can see the island of Grenelle and Lady Liberty holding aloft her torch. You can see the Palais de Chaillot with its lovely classical semi-circular design. You can see the Musee de Quai Blanci designed again by the famed Jean Nouvel only a few blocks away with its interesting glass walls and its lovely landscaped garden. Basically, from this height, you can see everything and you can see it from an entirely novel and quite incredible perspective. So, in every respect, I was completely floored by my first-time rising to the Eiffel Tower’s summit and it was with difficulty that I dragged myself away after using the facilities on the lower level again. It was 12.30 pm by the time I left the premises after taking a few pictures.

Off to La Defence:

Instead of walking towards the metro station at Bir-Hakeim, I decided to cross the river Seine just in front of the Eiffel Tower and walk past the gardens of the Palais de Chaillot towards the metro station at Trocadero. From there, I took the metro to La Defence, a rather longish journey (but free today as a result of Paris’ continued pollution) as I wanted to see the gigantic contemporary arch that has been built there, up close and personal. It was very easy to get there and, basically, all I expected was to see the Arch and to take a few pictures.

What I did not expect to find and what I did see was a huge Christmas Market that had sprouted up in the courtyard that is surrounded by a concrete jungle—for La Defence is similar to London’s Canary Wharf or New York’s Financial District. It is a glass and concrete jungle filled with banks and other financial institutions and surrounded by upscale stores that cater to the heavy-walleted. Naturally, I cannot pass by a Christmas Market without browsing through it and since it was lunch-time, I was fortunate to be offered a lot of tasters—cheese, honey, nougat, sausages. It was lovely to nibble as I had begun to feel hunger pangs. After I had spent about half an hour taking in the sight of all these edible goodies and having passers-by take my picture against the towering arch, I got on to the metro again and set off for my next destination: the Church of Sacre-Coeur at Montmartre.

Visiting Montmartre:

On past visits to Paris, I have thoroughly scoured Montmartre which is rich in artistic history—many Impressionist painters had either made their homes in the area of had hung out here (as Picasso did at the Lapin Agile, a local bar). On this occasion, with less time to linger, I made it quickly out of the metro station at Abbesse (which I always admire for its original Art Nouveau-style arched iron-work at the metro stairwell) and followed signs along Rue Yvonne Le Tac to the funicular train. Indeed, on past visits, I have actually climbed up and down the lovely set of stairs that leads to the top of the mountain. This time, I was content to do it the easier way.

The funicular train, which is ordinarily accessible by a metro ticket, was also free today. Luckily, there were not a lot of people and although one of the trains was out of service (annoying!), the ride to the top did not involve a wait of longer than 20 minutes. They were, however, 20 minutes on my feet—so my fatigue levels were also growing consistently as the day progressed.

Visiting The Church of Sacre-Coeur:

Once I got off the funicular train, I made my way towards the main entrance of the church as that was my first priority. There were lots of people milling around the steps that provide strategic picture ops as the entire city of Paris seems to lie at your feet. I had my own picture taken and then began the ascent to the church entrance.

Mass was going on when I entered the church—so I crept around as quietly as I could, stayed on the last pew and said a prayer. The altar is remarkable for its mosaic work and its lovely sculptures of Christ. There was a crib up already—even though it was only early December. A few minutes later, I was out of the church and making a right out of the exit towards the Place du Tertre.

The Place du Tertre is the biggest attraction of the area. It is a cobbled square in which artists take up residence to paint portraits, do caricatures or present you with pen and ink drawings of your likeness. Through the years, almost all members of our family have had their likeness sketched here and I have framed versions of them in our home in Connecticut. The square is surrounded by restaurants and eateries that spill on to the pavement during the summer in the typical French concept of the café-trottoir. However, in winter the entire atmosphere is different. The large trees have lost their foliage and rise bare towards the skies. There are fewer artists, fewer people and the pavement chairs and tables were nowhere to be seen. I walked around the area and felt somewhat forlorn by its emptiness. There was no reason to linger any longer although the souvenir shops were tempting. A few minutes later, I walked as briskly as I could across the cobbled streets and arrived at the stop for the funicular train from where I made my way down quite easily.

Since there was a Fragonard shop right at the funicular train stop, I popped into it to try to find a particular item I was seeking: a small set of ten perfumes. Alas, it has been discontinued—all they carry now are the ten eau de toilettes (much lighter versions) of their signature fragrances.

Off to the Louvre:

With three major items ticked off my To-Do List for the day, it was only left for me to make a visit to the Musee Louvre. It was about 4.30 pm and I knew that since the museum is open on Fridays until 9.45 pm, I had several hours ahead of me to view its treasures. I have, of course, been to the Louvre several times—and I do have my favorite canvasses to which I say Hello each time I am there. I also adore the building itself—the gorgeous confection of a Palace that the Bourbon kings added to as they multiplied their wealth and their desire for luxury. The galleries themselves are so splendidly decorated that most of the time I am taking in their treasures rather than the stacks of paintings, sculpture and decorative arts that actually make up this diverse and quite overwhelming collection.

Emerging out of the metro through a quite different way this time (underground, through a large upscale mall), I arrived at the base under the marvelous glass triangular canopy created by the Chinese-American architect I.M. Pei. I headed straight for the cloak room, left my bag there, then headed to the ticket office where my Met ID card got me free entry into the museum—a huge bonus! With the museum’s floor plan in my hands, I tried to find my way through the three wings that comprise this humongous space: the Denton, Sully and Richelieu wings.

So here is what I managed to cover on this trip, beginning my wandering at 5.00 pm.

  1. Winged Victory of Samotrace (classical sculpture believed to be figurehead on ship’s prow).
  2. The Borghese Athlete.
  3. The Battle of Romano by Paolo Ucello
  4. Portrait of Grandfather and Grandson by Ghiurlandaio.
  5. The Visitation by Sandro Botticelli
  6. John the Baptist by Leonardo da Vince.
  7. Madonna of the Rocks by L da Vini.
  8. Portrait of Italian Female Aristocrat by L da Vinci
  9. Madonna with St. Anne and Jesus by L da Vinci
  10. Wedding Feast at Cana by Paolo Veroneze
  11. Mona Lisa by Leonardo da Vinci
  12. Odalisque by Titian
  13. Coronation of Napoleon by Jacque-Louis David
  14. Portrait of Female French Aristocrat by J.L David
  15. Murder of Horatio by J.L. David
  16. Rape of the Sabines by J.L. David
  17. Crown of St. Louis (This is a replica). I adore the gallery in which this is displayed as it is stacked with portraits of French worthies from the Baroque period.
  18. Crown of Josephine
  19. Michelangelo Showing the Pope his Plan for St. Peter’s Basilica.
  20. The Seated Scribe
  21. Venus da Milo
  22. One of the Parthenon Marbles
  23. Dying Slave by Michelangelo
  24. Liberty Leading the People by Delacroix
  25. Raft of the Medusa by Gericault
  26. Two Sisters Readings by Renoir
  27. The Astronomer by Vermeer
  28. Lace Maker by Vermeer
  29. Lute Player by Franz Hals
  30. Self-Portrait by Rembrandt
  31. Bathsheba by Rembrand

Needless to say, in addition to seeing all these highlights and more, I took loads of pictures of the interiors, especially the ceilings as their decoration is quite lavish. Also as darkness fell over the city, the Louvre was illuminated with the loveliest, softest lighting, I took many pictures of the courtyards of the Palace of the Louvre—but none did justice to their beauty.

I was ready to collapse with fatigue by the time I finished at 8. 30 pm. I also had the good fortune of meeting an Indian art scholar called Usha Sharma who told me that she teaches courses on Indian Art in Paris. I hastened out of the museum and took the metro to get myself back to my place where I reached at 9.30 and went straight to bed.

My second-last day in Paris had been chocobloc—but what a blast I had! As it turned out, every item of my To-Do and To-Taste List had been covered! I could pay myself on the back as I fell asleep for tomorrow, all I have to do is pack and clear up his room and check out.

A demain…

 

 

First-Time Forays Into Islamic Paris…and Other Attractions.

Dec29

December 8, 2016, Thursday: Paris

First-Time Forays into Islamic Paris…and other Attractions

For some odd reason, I had a rather late start today—probably was not woken up by the tram bell outside my window. A 7.45 am rising is late by my standards. I had a Pierre Herme Ispahan croissant for brekkie with orange juice, showered and got dressed. I left my place at 10. 45 after carefully drawing up a route that would take me to parts of Paris into which I had never before ventured.

Exploring the Jardin des Plantes:

My first stop of the day was at the Jardin des Plantes (Botanical Garden) and the reason for my visit was the magnificent novel by Anthony Doerr called All The Light You Cannot See, winner of the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction and the best novel I had read in 2014. The initial section of the novel is set here in the Botanical Garden in general and the Museum of Natural History in particular as it is where the museum is located. The father of the female protagonist of the novel, Marie-Laure, is one of the curators of the museum and his task is to keep the keys of the museum safe as well as a fictional stone that is usually on view at the Museum of Natural History. As an old woman and a survivor of World War II, Marie-Laure returns to Paris and makes her home close to the Museum and to the Botanical Garden where she passes most evenings in the company of her grand-son.

Because I had been so taken by this splendid novel and because I had never been to the Botanical Garden, I decided that I would visit it this time round as well as check out the Museum of Natural History. I was completely floored by the Botanical Garden. It was huge—extensive and well-manicured. There are alles of linden trees (which, because it was nearly winter, were stripped of their foliage) that provide wonderful walking paths through the garden. The alles are lined on both sides by glass conservatories and by a number of buildings. I soon discovered that those buildings comprise the Museum of Natural History as it is not one building but about 12—scattered all over Paris, although about six of them surround the alles. I took several pictures of the garden and the conservatories and then made my way into the Museum of Paleontology where a number of dinosaur skeletons attract large numbers of children. Unfortunately, each of the museums has a different entry fee—there is no single fee to cover them all. By the time one sees them all, one has spent a small fortune. They would not recognize my Met ID card and I did not wish to spend too much time in any one of them. I decided, therefore, to merely poke my head into the Museum of Mineralogy where the fictitious stone would have been stored and to take a couple of pictures there.

Then, I left the museum and the Botanical Garden and went on to the next attraction on my list—the rarely-visited Grand Mosque of Paris.

The Grand Mosque of Paris:

To enter the Grand Mosque in Paris is to enter into an altogether different world. It is hard to believe that you are in Europe—you would think you were somewhere in Northern Africa: in Algeria, Tunisia or Morocco (artisans from these countries had been specially commissioned to undertake the job). The mosque is large and beautiful. It has all the characteristics of Islamic architecture plus gorgeous decorative tile-work that is reminiscent of the Al-Hambra in Granada, Spain. The central courtyard concept is in force with rooms radiating out from a very lovely garden that fills one with a sense of spiritual serenity. There is a towering minaret in the North African style. Visitors are free to wander around anywhere—there is a really large hall with a central fountain with all sorts of decorative tile work. The only room you that non-Muslims cannot enter is the Prayer Room itself which contains the Mihrab. Since it was not a Friday, it was rather quiet at the mosque but a few worshippers were around, both in the corridors and in the Prayer Room (you can get a quick glimpse from the main door). I took so many pictures as I was completely enthralled by this unusual structure right in the middle of Paris—it was so hard for me to believe that right across the street was the 19th century Botanical Gardens. It really is a quite distinctive place to visit and I am glad I went.

The mosque has a restaurant attached that offers Middle Eastern and North African cuisine such as mezzes and tagines. It is set in a lovely shady garden (if you prefer to sit outdoors) or inside in a space that resembles a souk or a casbah. As I said, everything about this place is enchanting—even if you are not a Muslim (perhaps especially if you are not a Muslim).

Visiting the Institute du Monde Arabe:

Co-incidentally, although I had not actually planned for it, I went from one Islamic space to the next—but from the sacred to the secular. When I lived in Paris, a few years ago, I used to pass in the bus by this striking building that I realized was designed by the renowned French architect, Jean Nouvel. It is on most tourist maps of Paris, but somehow I had never found the time to explore it. This visit would remedy the omission.

It was a twenty minute walk from the Mosque to the Institute which is sweetly located on the banks of the Seine. It is a nine-story structure that looks like a cube. It has a huge Omani dhow right outside it—a gift from Oman whose government has sponsored the special exhibition on right now called ‘Sea-farers of the Mediterranean.’ I was fortunate that my Met ID was recognized here. I was handed different ticket stubs to get to the different floors, on each of which they was a different exhibition. Two floors contain objects that remain permanently in place—they range from illuminated Korans to ancient pottery. I also saw a special exhibition on the Bhiksha Oasis which is in the North African country of Algeria. The ‘Sea-Farers of the Mediterranean’ exhibition was splendid. It carried vast amounts of material on a number of countries, explorers and navigators from the Islamic world whose courage and vision opened up the area to the rest of the world.

In-between seeing the floors, I sat on a bench and ate my smoked salmon baguette. I stayed for another hour as I rode up and down the glass elevators inside the building which allowed me to admire the wonderful architectural work of Nouvel with its emphasis on thousands of pipes that form sharp angles in the interior or the building. The top-most floor is an empty viewing terrace with a small café attached to it. It does, of course, offer lovely views of Paris and of the Seine and I took them all in with deep pleasure. When I was done, I walked out of the Institute, quire pleased that I have covered yet another item on my To-Do List.

A Bit of Shopping:

From this point on, I decided to go out in search of a French beret together with one of the woolen caps that are now sporting fur pom-poms. My idea was to detach one of the pompoms and sew it on to one of the berets in imitation of a favorite hat I had once owned but which I had lost, much to my sorrow. This specific need involved getting to the side streets around the Cathedral of Notre-Dame where the inexpensive souvenir stores sell the sort of item I was seeking. It took me absolute ages and a great deal of sweat equity to track down the hats I wanted at the right price. After scouring at least half a dozen stores, I found exactly what I wanted and couldn’t have been happier.

Ice-Cream, Marron Glaces and Other Goodies at the Ile de St. Louis:

Since I was so close to the Ile de Saint Louis, I had to go in search of some ice-cream at Berthillon. And after I had my treat, I stepped into a cookie store where I received a few more goodies for sampling. Then, on passing a candy shop, I stepped in, on impulse, to buy myself a marron glace (glazed chestnut) as this is a French specialty that is very popular at Christmastime and which I had never tasted. Keen to see what all the fuss was about and wondering why these little confections are so expensive, I bought myself one and was completely surprised—both at the taste and the texture of it—it was spongy, not hard (and I am still wondering what all the fuss is about!). But then there you have it! Another item ticked off my To-Taste List!

Off to the Bastille for a Croque Monsieur:

Also on my To-Eat List before I left Paris was a really good Croque Monsieur—which, as most people know, is a ham and cheese sandwich that is dipped in a Mornay sauce and grilled. I have loved Croque Monsieurs since I first tasted them, about thirty years ago. And on every trip to France, I make sure I eat at least one. When I lived in Paris, I made them at home very frequently for it is the wonderful. combination of smoked ham and Swiss cheese (found most flavorfully in France) that make the best Croques.

Well, having done my research on the internet (to find the best Croque Monsieur in Paris), I was directed to the Cafe des Phares which is right at the Place de la Bastille. So I went on the metro from ‘St. Mich’ (as St. Michel is known) to Bastille and as soon as I emerged from the metro, I spied the restaurant across the wide circle.  I made a beeline for it and settled myself down at a table and gave my order for a Croque Monsieur and a café au lait—it would be a very early dinner.

My Croque was wonderful. It was best when it was freshly served to me and since I love eating my food piping hot, I did not wait too long for it to cool down. As it cooled, it got less and less succulent—in fact, it started to get rubbery as the melted fondue-like cheese hardened. Served with a salad and my coffee, it was a great meal. As you can see, I seem to have lost my inhibitions altogether about dining alone in restaurants. The French seem to have no problem with it at all and seem not in the slightest bit surprised when I request a table for one and place a single order. As it turned out, at the next table was seated an African-American couple who, lost little time in getting friendly with me. We had a very nice conversation. He happened to be a former restauranteur who has lived in Paris for the past forty years and she, his friend, turned out to someone in international finance who was taking a year off to travel and had made Paris a temporary base. One of the best things about being a solo sojourner is that you make friends with all types of people who reach out and include you in conversation—so that you are never really completely or uncomfortably alone.

A little while later, after clearing my bill, I took the metro from Bastille and got back home. As I had a very early dinner and had sat up communicating on my computer to so many people, I had myself a late-night snack of salad and yoghurt and then fell asleep just past midnight.

A demain…

Parisian Museums and More–Musee de la Mode and Musee de L’Homme

Dec29

December 7, 2016, Wednesday.

Museums and More…

     In keeping with my resolve to see as many new places in Paris as possible, today, I awoke and decided to go to the Musee de la Mode de la Ville de Paris (the Museum of Fashion)—after all, there is no city in the world more a la mode than Paris.

Brekkie at the Café of Cite-Universitaire:

Carrying one of Pierre Herme’s croissants with me, I went in search of a cup of coffee. As I remembered that Cite-Universitaire has a well-serviced cafe, I showered, dressed and left my room to find it. It also ticked off one more item from my To-Do List (a Walk around Cite-Universitaire).

At the counter, I ordered a Breakfast Menu Complet which came with a croissant, a small roll, butter, jam, a pot of strawberry yoghurt, a pack of orange juice and a cup of coffee.  I was certainly not going to eat it all—so I ate the Herme croissant and had the coffee. The rest I  deposited in my room (for future breakfasts). I then hopped into the metro and went off to Rue Raspail to find the Musee de la Mode which opened at 10.00 am.

Exploring the Musee de la Mode:

The Musee was also empty when I got there. However, before I even entered it, I got sidetracked by a street market on Rue Raspail and I went for a long browse through stalls filled with fruit, veg, nuts, dried fruit, snacks, cheese, meat, etc. What I did leave with was a black wool beret that I picked up for 10 euros (but which I think, now, was a rather foolish buy that I might not even wear!). But I rarely make such purchases—so I do not want to be too hard on myself.

At the museum, which is located in a lovely hotel particulier with a curved pathway leading to the entrance (very similar to the Musee Maillol) that is known as the Palais Galliera, I was given free entry with my Met ID card. Inside, although small, there are some elements that remain memorable. It takes you through a short history of French haute couture. The big names and some of their works are present—a lot of Givenchy pill-box hats, for instance, as popularized by Jackie O. There are gowns by Chanel and other Famed French designers who made a mark on the fashion scene with their vision and style. None of the exhibits are permanent–they are constantly changed. When I went, I found gowns, dresses, shoes, hats—some very wearable, others outrageous. I was not sure what to expect and I have to say that I was not disappointed. As a capsule of French fashion, it was quite interesting.

Off to NYU-Paris:

I left the museum before 12 noon as I had an appointment with my colleague Eugene at Boulevarde St. Germaine where NYU-Paris is located. He has spent a year teaching in Paris and since I was keen to visit our premises in France, he offered to meet me, give me a tour, introduce me to a few staff members and students before we had a coffee together.

Accordingly, I arrived at the venue at 1.00 pm and had a nice reunion with Eugene. NYU is located in a nondescript building on the main road—so it really does not have a campus. It occupies a few of the top floors of the building. Eugene took me straight up to the topmost level for exciting views of the city. It was quite stunning really, and I am glad we started off there. From that point on, we took the stairs as we passed through student lounges, classrooms, administrative offices and the like. He introduced me to a few of the senior staff members and after taking a few pictures, we set off for a small bistro at St. Germaine where we had a coffee and talked shop. Unfortunately, Eugene was caught up with end-of-term grading and could not stay long. However, he did invite me to join his class at 3.00 pm. for a tour of the Musee de l’Homme. Since I had never been there, I decided to do just that. However, with another hour and a half to spare before I needed to return to NYU, I made the lightning decision to re-visit the Cluny-Thermes which is also known as the Musee des Moyen Ages (Museum of the Middle Ages) to see the series of tapestries that is known as the ‘Lady and the Unicorn’.

A Return to the Musee des Moyen Ages:

I discovered this museum rather late in my Parisian experience, but it has become one of my favorites in Paris. With just one hour to spare, I got myself a free entry (thanks to my Met ID card) and raced immediately to the special round room at the top of the gorgeous Gothic building that is used to house the series of tapestries. They are best viewed together and this room makes the ideal venue from which to take them in.

I took pictures of each of the tapestries that depict an unknown lady and her maid in a garden surrounded by a variety of animals and birds. They are said to depict the five human senses (sight, sound, hearing taste, touch) through interesting representations. The sixth tapestry is said to represent the sixth sense (or conscience). Filled with an abundance of detail, one can gaze at each tapestry for ages and admire them endlessly. I had a short time there but I derived immense pleasure from looking at them minutely and taking pictures. Then, I hurried off to meet Eugene’s class and used the short ten minute walk to eat my smoked salmon sandwich.

Off to the Musee de l’Homme with NYU Students:

I arrived on schedule at NYU and met Eugene and his class in the lobby. We set out immediately, taking the metro to Trocadero—once again, we got the opportunity to ride on the No. 6 train that took us across the Seine past the Eiffel Tower. At Trocadero, we walked past the Palais de Chaillot to the Museum. Eugene had made a group booking and we were ushered past the entrance into the main hall.

The Musee de l’Homme (Museum of Man) is devoted to Anthropology. I had never been inside and, in fact, had never even heard of it. I did not think that I would find it fascinating, but indeed I did. It is beautifully laid out and wonderfully curated and contains a treasure trove of large and small items from every part of the world that are superbly displayed. The falling cascade of busts of males and females from varied parts of the world is itself a reason to go. They are superbly carved in wood with amazing detail. Other things that caught my eye was a fallen elephant with its guts exposed and tumbling out—we had seen a similar sight in real life on a rhino in South Africa. Best part of all, the museum offered brilliant views of the Eiffel Tower from its many windows and because we were at an elevated level, we had the chance to see the many sculptures scattered around the premises from new and interesting angles. As the evening wore on, as night fell and as the lights came on at the Tower, we got even more stirring pictures.

After spending about two hours at the museum, enjoying the commentary of my colleague, listening to questions raised by our NYU students and pondering their comments, we called it a day. The students left, Eugene and I walked to the metro station and then parted ways.

Christmas Market on the Champs-Elysses:

I hopped off at the Champs-Elysses and, on emerging at ground level, found myself stunned by the fairyland in which I found myself. The famous avenue was ablaze with Christmas fairy lights and color as I had been deposited in the very midst of its well-renowned Christmas market that occurs at this time of year. I had an appointment for dinner with my French friend Livia at 6.00 pm and with an hour to spare, I began to check out the stalls. I have to admit that I was really exhausted throughout most of my time in Paris as I was simply trying to bite off more than I could chew and barely gave my legs any time to rest. The end result was that my right knee began to hurt and I was often so fatigued, I simply had to flop down somewhere. Still, I did not let it deter me from doing what I wished to accomplish.

The Christmas market is huge—it spans both sides of the Champs-Elysses. It features a great deal of German food stalls—there is bratwurst and hot gluhwein (mulled red wine). On the French side, there is raclette and Croque Monsieur. There are also a lot of stalls selling crafts—if you are in need of Christmas presents, this is where you can buy the lot. Woolen caps and gloves and mitts and lots of hats with fur pom-poms (which is quite the rage right now) were all over the place. I merely window-shopped, but it was fun to be a part of it all and to see the amount of variety of items being sold.

Dinner with Livia at Le Bistro Marboeuf:

Livia in the step-daughter of my French friend Genevieve whom I had seen last week in Lyon. I have known Livia for many years and we always make plans to meet when I am in Paris. Livia had suggested we meet at Rue Marbeouf and I set out to find her. We met on schedule and at her suggestion, we made ourselves comfortable at a very typically Parisian bistro called Le Bistro Marboeuf. I welcomed the opportunity to have a companion for dinner–one of the downsides about being alone in Paris is that I rarely enter good eateries to have a complete meal as I have never fancied dining alone.

With Livia for company, I ordered a full three-course meal: I started with the foie gras (which was just superb) served with toast points, went on to steak-frites served with a three-pepper sauce and I finished with Iles Flottants, which is such a delicate dessert and so rarely found on American menus—it was swimming in a sea of custard and was studded with toasted nuts and drizzled over with a caramel sauce. It was quite the best iles flottants I have ever eaten and even Livia was astonished at the size of my helping. Since I had asked for sautéed vegetables instead of frites, I ended up getting both! Livis had the French onion soup that she pronounced to be simply superb and a Lyonnaise casserole of meat rolls. My dessert was so large that I urged her to share it with me. It wasd a simply delightful meal—although I would have preferred to have my steak (ordered medium rare) done better. I am discovering that it is best to ask for a well-done steak in France. As French gastronomy goes, this was up there.

Back Home:

Livia and I parted company at about 8.00 pm after having had a lovely evening together and catching up on all sorts of personal and family news. We took a few pictures together on the Champs-Elysses and then I headed home and went straight to bed at about 10.00 pm after what had been another very fruitful day.

A demain…

 

T’Was All About Impressionism…Macarons…and Crepes.

Dec29

December 6, 2016, Tuesday: Paris

Today was all About Impressionism…Macarons and Crepes

I awoke at 6.00 am (yes, to the sound of the tram bell). I showered and fixed myself a smoked salmon baguette with salad which I would carry for lunch and ate pain de chocolat for brekkie. By the time I left my place it was 9.45. I arrived at my destination, the Musee d’Orsay, at 10.30 am. Having been here several times, I did not expect to stay beyond noon.

Exploring the Musee D’Orsay:

I could not have been more delusional. The Musee d’Orsay is so huge and so crammed with artistic wonders that it deserves a whole day devoted to its exploration. As it turned out, I began my examination of its masterpieces quite systematically, on the ground floor, as I took in its sculptural treasures—Rodin, Carpeaux, mixed media African busts by Cordier (which I adore) before I made my way to the end of the hall only to find a special section devoted to the Opera Garnier and the artistic genius of Charles Garnier! Now what are the odds that I would have visited it only the previous day? Had I not taken the tour, I would have just skirted through this exhibition. As it turned out, I gave the section a great deal of time and attention and was completely taken by the model of Paris featuring the Opera building built on scale beneath our feet and protected by a glass floor. There was also a brilliant cross-section of the entire building that gave glimpses of the kind of décor that had fascinated me yesterday. You could see a miniature version in this model of the original ceiling rondel as it had existed before Chagall presented his Modernist one.

I made my way by elevator then to the top-most floor and decided to head downwards via the stairs. At the top, I came upon the huge clock that acted as the clock of the Gare d’Orsay (when it used to a major railway station). The manner in which this building has been repurposed to house the national Impressionist collection is simply stunning and no matter how often I come here, I still remain awed. Through the clock’s hands, one can see the city of Paris spread out with the church of Sacre-Coeur at Montmartre clearly visible in the distance. As I moved inside, I found the balcony (which is open only in the summer) which offers incredible views of the Seine and the buildings on its banks including the Louvre. Of course, once my viewing of the paintings began, there was no stopping my camera. I clicked incessantly—from Whistler’s Mother to Manet’s Flautist and Odalisque, from landscapes and snowscapes by Sisley and Pisarro to Monet’s Poppies, Ladies with a Parasol and his Waterlilies, from Renoir’s portrait of a very young Monet to his portrait of Berthe Morrisot and his twin paintings of City and Country Dancing, from Cezanne’s mountain views and Card Players to a few by Rousseau—all the Masters were there, vying for attention. I went past the Café Campagna and made my way to the lower floor where the grandeur of the Impressionists continued. I took some more pictures of works by Van Gogh, Seurat and Cezanne and then eventually, with my tummy rumbling and my feet begging for a rest, I went into a small café and ordered a sandwich. I did have my own in my bag but I simply could not find the space to sit down and eat my own lunch. The sandwich I bought was eaten at a stand-up counter but it gave me the rest I needed.

During the second half of my tour of the museum, I focused on the lowest level and as I wound my way in and out of the galleries, I saw works by Bonnard, Courbet and even Modernists like Picasso. The lower level presents a mixed bag—there are gigantic works and there are very small canvasses. I was fairly drooping with fatigue by the time I finished looking at every painting, but as I was keen to see Manet’s Dejeuner Sur L’Herbe and could not find it in its regular position, I asked a guard where it could be. He told me that it had been moved temporarily into the special exhibition on the ‘Second Empire’. So off I went to the opposite side of the lowest level and there I gave myself up to the thrill of seeing all sorts of 19th century items–from letters and sculpture to paintings and decorative objects: some of which were so stunning that they took my breathe clean away. Finally, in the last gallery, I did see the Manet masterpiece I had been seeking and when I had taken a good close look at it (for the nth time), I decided to get a move on—as I was really really tired. So, in the end, by the time I left the Musee d’Orsay, it was 4.00 pm!

Off to Pierre Herme for Macarons:

When I had last lived in Paris, four years ago, I had indulged in a great deal of gastronomic treats from artisanal bread from Eric Kayser and cheese from Barthelemy…but one thing I hadn’t quite managed to taste were the incredible macarons made by the inventor of them himself—Pierre Herme. This time I was determined not to leave Paris without sourcing, finding and feasting on them. I had used the internet to find out that one of his extraordinary patisseries is near St. Suplice Chruch and that was where I took the metro in search of it. I found it soon enough and when I went inside, I saw that he had a special Christmas range based on foie gras. It was not long before I bought a box of macarons—7 come in a long box—plus a special one made with truffles (that comes in its own special packet). I was pleased to take them home and enjoy each one separately. I also bought two of his croissants—one being his signature IsfahanL a combination of rose, raspberry and lychee (flavors that had resulted in the creation of his famous pastry called the Ispahan)—well, this was the croissant equivalent. I also bought his Croissant Poire William, filled with a pear puree and studded with candied pears. Breakfast for the next couple of days was sorted! And would be special!           

Crepes for Dinner in Little Brittany:

Also on my list of Must-Do Items before leaving Paris was eating crepes—and since Lonely Planet had extolled the virtues of a place called Chez Josephine in Little Brittany, off I went to find it. It was practically in the shadow of Tour Montparnasse. It had turned dark by the time I reached there…and guess what??? It was closed on Tuesdays!!! Duh Me! Well, I had no choice but to look for an alternative place and I found it at Creperie Bretonne. There, I settled down in an empty creperie, after I inquired and found out that it was not too early for me to be served dinner at 5.00 pm. I chose to each a Crepe Rennes which was filled with ham, Swiss cheese and mushrooms—and it was scrumptious! I savored it with a large decaff café au lait and feeling very pleased with my very early dinner, I made my way out about an hour later.

Home to Relax:

Fairly falling with fatigue, I made my way back home on the metro and reached at 6. 30 pm. I sat propped up in bed and caught up with email and the world’s news and facetimed with Llew. Then, at about 9.00 pm, I ate a smoked salmon salad that I made with my greens, smoked salmon, blue cheese and nuts—douzed with salad dressing. When I felt ready for bed, I brushed and flossed my teeth and turned out the light.

A demain!