Two Items Ticked Off a Parisian To-Do List: Opera Garnier and Cafe Angelina

Dec29

December 5, 2016, Monday:

Two Major Parisian Items Ticked off To-Do List—Opera Garnier and Café Angelina for Hot Chocolate           

Within a couple of days of being in Paris again, I felt as if I had never left. The ease with which I hopped in and out of trains, the fluency with which I spoke French with never a bit of hesitation, the confidence with which I sought out shops I wished to visit (often for the first time) and the determination with which I ticked off items on my Parisian To-Do List astounded even me.

Best of all was the daily waking to the sound of the tram bell outside my window on Boulevarde Jourdan which filled me with nostalgia for the summer when I used to live in the apartment next-door. When I drew my curtains back, I gasped for at 8.00 am, Paris was still pitch dark. In another hour, however, things had changed completely and by 9.00am, daylight had flooded the area, Parc Montsourris across the street had opened for the day, dog-walkers and joggers had begun taking their daily constitutionals and the day got on. I promised myself that I would ride the tram at least once and take a stroll around Parc Montsourris at least once before I left. And in this way, although I began to whittle my To-Do List down, I also constantly added to it.

I decided to shower in the morning before I left (as there was no hurry to start my day), folded my laundry, scoured websites to find out where to go and how to get there and grabbing two pain au chocolat from my stash, I left my place at 9.45 by the RER (B) and the metro to get to the Opera Garnier. Although I have loved this building for ages, I have never visited its interior—this was the day I would take a tour.

Exploring the Opera Garnier:

I arrived at the main entrance of the beautiful Opera Garnier building through the metro station called Opera—this brings you right to the junction where the Opera building meets other swanky streets. I spied Rue du Scribe and immediately decided that I would go to Fragonard, the French perfumier, to buy more goodies as gifts for London friends, right after my tour.

Inside, at the Box Office, they honored my Met ID card but I did pay 5 euros for a self-guided tour (which was simply brilliant) as I was unable to get a guided tour (one has to book in advance and pay 15 euros for it).

The Opera Garnier was Paris’ original Opera House (it is no longer in use for operas as there is a new one at the Bastille). It was built in the late 19th century by Charles Garnier—after whom it is named—who was Paris’ best-known architect. He knew he was getting a grand commission when named architect and he poured his greatest talent and vision into the enterprise. I consider his work on this building equivalent to the building of St. Paul’s Cathedral in London by Sir Christopher Wren in 1672.

The moment you enter this building, you stagger in disbelief, for it is so visually spectacular as to leave you speechless. Garnier spared absolutely no expense in creating this magnificent building. You start your tour in a circular Rotunda that has arched entrances and a grand stuccoed ceiling. It leads you into a vestibule that is noted for a very delicate sculpture of a lovely woman. Both sides of the vestibule are lined with floor to ceiling mirrors which can be very deceptive. You think that there are rooms beyond and then you realize that you are looking at yourself in the mirror—I must admit I got a bit of a shock when I realized that the reflection looking back at me was my own!

From this point, the grand sweeping marble staircase branches out into two sides and takes you to another stupendous landing where the interior structure becomes even more ornate. There are marble balconies emanating from both sides, there are loads of delicate sculpture, there are candleabras held in the hands of clusters of bronze nymphs. The ceilings are painted in the style of the ceilings of French castles and palaces. After you climb another set of stairs, you arrive at yet another landing where the sight of two caryatids catch your attention. They are created out of mixed media—bronze body parts, marble clothing.  Needless to say, visitors can be heard gasping audibly and cameras do not cease clicking. When you position yourself in-between the caryatids, you get sterling views of the higher levels of the building that seem to open up with such a wealth of decorative detail that it beggars description.

When you pass through the doorway flanked by the caryatids, you find yourself facing a door that leads to the Main Auditorium. Plush with red velvet seats and a horseshoe-shaped structure, it is similar to London’s Royal Albert Hall. The most interesting aspect is the ceiling which was once painted by a contemporary of Garnier but was repainted in 1964 by the Russian artist Marc Chagall. Not an inch of the auditorium is left undecorated. In the center is the notorious chandelier that plays such a big role in the opera, The Phantom of the Opera. In fact, there is a reference to the Phantom during the audio tour and visitors are directed to Box Number 5 at the end of the corridor where the Phantom (the ghost of the opera house) was known to lurk.

There are many marble busts of opera composers encircling the outside of the auditorium and prominent among these is one of Berlioz who was extremely popular in the time of Garnier. From this point on, the audio guide took me to parts of the building that were simply stacked with visual details—mosaics on the ceiling, paintings on the wall, sculpture every which way you turned. I entered a lovely circular Hall that was used during the intermissions for the devouring of ice-cream (I realize now where the tradition of selling ice-cream in the London theaters originates). This Hall is filled with beautiful panel paintings that depict the consumption of different kinds of food and drink. You then pass through a Solar Room—on the opposite side is a Lunar Room. At the very top, you get a sweeping view of the horseshoe-shaped staircase in its multiple levels until you get to the piece de resistance, the Hall of Mirrors.

The Hall of Mirrors at the Palais Garnier was created in imitation of the one to be found at the Palais de Versailles. Visitors are simply overwhelmed by what they see: ceilings and walls are covered with paintings in the Baroque style with classical gods and goddesses attended to by a multitude of heavenly beings, huge blazing chandeliers hang low from the ceiling, gilded sculpted rondels on the walls and ceiling, parquet flooring, Greek-style figures holding up giant clocks. After you have seen this gallery, everything else pales into insignificance.

There are, however, still many more rooms to be seen: the museum of fine arts, for instance, is filled with paintings depicting the opera house, opera stars through the ages and composers of various vintage. In the main entrance lobby, there are four marble sculptures of well-known opera composers. By this point in the tour, you are visually exhausted. However, the tour then takes you to the extensive gift shops where there is everything to purchase that your heart could desire.

It was about 12 noon when I emerged from the Opera Garnier, having undertaken one of the more stupendous visits of my travels. It was one of the best things I have seen in Paris. Although the place is used today for ballet and other dance performance, I would urge anyone going to Paris for the first time, not to miss a visit to the Opera Garnier. Not a moment inside it is ever wasted.

Off to Fragonard:

            Fragonard was just across the road in the Musee de Parfums. First-time visitors can take a guided tour of the grand hotel particulier (private mansion) that has been taken over by the company to showcase its involvement in the perfume industry. I had taken the tour on a previous visit to Paris—and so I went directly to the show room to buy myself some more soaps (I adore their flower-scented set of five) and sets of perfume. Was delighted to find sets that also featured a gold bracelet. I bought a couple and left.

In Search of Lunch at Frenchie:

By this point, I thought I ought to look for lunch and using Lonely Planet, I went in search of Frenchie—a small bistro, they said, with really good food. It was simplicity itself for me to use the public transport system as I possess a Navigo card (equivalent of London’s Oyster Card)—all I needed to do was top it up for a week of unlimited travel. As it turned out, it was a waste in my case and Paris happened to be riddled by pollution (because of unexpected changes in the atmosphere) and in an attempt to keep people off the streets, the public transport system was offered free of charge to all commuters for three consecutive days—so my pass for a week turned out to be a rather expensive buy. The 3-day free concession brought a bunch of beggars into the metro system and for the next couple of days, one was plagued by them as they got off the streets and on to the trains.

When I got to Frenchie, however, I found it closed for lunch on Mondays. However, on taking a look at its menu, I found it to be stacked with American fast-food type offerings such as hamburgers, corned beef Reuben sandwiches and pancakes that were quite unappealing to me. Everything was also frightfully expensive. I, therefore, walked out (the space was tiny  and there was no room at all), and found a Subway shop from where I bought a Sub Raclette—made with typically French-Swiss cheese such as Emmentaler. Having eaten it, I continued with my touring for the day.

Off to the Church of Madeleine:

I got back on the metro and arrived again at Opera and walked a couple of blocks around the square that surrounds the church of Madeleine in order to indulge in some degustation—the French art of tasting food. Although the famous Fauchon was open and offered the pleasure of tasting a few teas and a couple of other nibbles, Hediard, another temple to gastronomy was closed temporarily for long-term renovation. A notice on the door advised patrons to buy their supplies online. I also then made my way to the Pinoteque—a theater that showcased avant garde movies and theatrical offerings, but, to my amazement, it had closed down sometime last year and nothing has taken its place.

Making my way to the main entrance of the Church, I entered its hushed dark interior and walked towards the front to spend a few minutes in quiet prayer. Built in extreme classical style—a simple cube surrounded by Corinthian columns and topped with a carved pediment featuring Christ in the Heavens—it is quite a commanding presence.

Looking for the Jeu de Paume and the ‘Ring Trick’:

My next port of call was the Museum known as the Jeu de Paume which, before the conversion of the Gare d’Orsay into the Musee d’Orsay, i.e. about 35 years ago, used to hold the country’s collection of Impressionist paintings. Since then, it has been used to hold exhibitions of photography and since I had never been inside, I decided to pop in.

However, as I was walking on the Rue Royale, past all the showrooms containing French decorative arts (such as Lalique, Christofle and Daum), I was almost taken in by what is called the ‘ring trick’. A woman just ahead of me bent down and picked up a gold ring. She offered it to me and said that her religion that she told me was Presbyterian, did not allow her to keep it. I took a look at it and saw that it was unlikely to be real gold. But inside there were hallmarks! I told her that I did not want it and that she could hand it over to the police. She then asked me for a few euros as it was her lucky day! I almost put my hands into my bag to give her a few when I realized that the whole thing was a set-up about which I had actually been warned by Lonely Planet. In fact, I was annoyed at myself for almost getting taken in by it. As she waited to get a few euro coins from me, I told her that I was not happy about tricked in this fashion and walked right away.

When, a few minutes later, I did get to the Jeu de Paume, alas, it is closed on Mondays—which made my visit futile.

Hot Chocolate and Afternoon Tea at Café Angelina:

I walked briskly along Rude de Rivoli in search of Café Angelina which supposedly serves the best hot chocolate in Paris. In the past, I have tried the teas at Laudree, another salle de the of exceeding fame and popularity in Paris. But my friend Delyse had told me about Café Angelina and I decided to check it out this time round. Its hot chocolate is so decadent that they actually serve it with a little pot of whipped cream at the side.            

             I found Café Angelina to be a tea room in the grand French style—dripping with dazzling chandeliers and lined by marble paneling. There were little round marble tables and I was seated at one on a round chair into which I sank. When I looked at the menu, I discovered that Hot Chocolate and a pastry would cost me only a few euros less than the full Afternoon Tea which included sandwiches and a selection of pastries and cakes in addition to the hot chocolate for 20 euros. My initial unease at being alone in the establishment was soon dispelled by the fact that I noticed so many single women sipping tea or hot cholate alone and tucking into the pastry—so what I had attempted to do was far from unusual.

My Afternoon Tea arrived on a two-tiered stand with savories on one level (finger sandwiches composed of chicken salad, ham and cheese and smoked salmon) as well as a cheese scone and a top level that contained a raspberry pastry, a lemon macaron, a madeleine (how can you have tea in France without a macaron and a madeleine, right?) and a small Mont Blanc which is a pastry that was created at Café Angelina. It is a chocolate-based pastry, topped with a chestnut flavored cream frosting and filled with chocolate ganache and whipped cream. You can order a single one (which is much larger) or this miniature version which offers you a sampling of it as well as other pastries. As for the hot chocolate? Was it as good as promised? Well, let’s just say it was terrific and I would gladly have had at least another cup.

It was while I was seated at Café Angelina and using their wifi to check messages on my phone that I received the shock of my life. Our NYU-London site director, a fine colleague and a good friend of mine, had passed away after a brief illness. I found myself reeling with a sense of sudden bereavement. How was it possible that someone so vibrant and so dynamic could just fade away? Only two weeks previously, he had played such a big role in the presentation I had made to NYU faculty members and staff in London. And now he was gone. Just like that. I found it hard to contain my grief.

Towards the end of my long stay at Café Angelina (where I did not feel in the slightest hurried), a young couple of Indian heritage occupied the table next to me. We entered into conversation and I soon discovered that they were from Long Island! For the next half hour, we chatted until I felt rested enough and decided to leave.

Darkness had fallen over the city although it was still pretty early in the evening. Had I more energy, I would have stayed outdoors and nipped off to another venue. But I was dead tired and the sad news had robbed me of a good mood. I was ready to call it a night. So I took the metro home, reached at 7. 30 pm and got ready for bed where I checked email. My late full tea did not require me to eat dinner. I was, therefore, off to sleep by 9.00 pm.

A demain…

 

Free Sunday Rolls Around Again in Paris

Dec29

December 4, 2016, Sunday:

Free Sunday Rolls Around Again in Paris.

One of the great advantages of being in Paris on the first Sunday of each month is that you get to enter a lot of the museums and monuments for free. Most folks make a bee-line for the better-known ones such as the Louvre or the Musee d’Orsay. But, having seen those several times before and being pretty certain that my Met ID card would get me into those for free, I chose to go to places I had never visited—and so after much research on the net, I zeroed in on four places to see—if I could muster the stamina and the endurance to see them all.

Off to the Cathedral of Notre Dame:

After carrying two pain au chocolate for breakfast, at 9.00 am, I used my carnet of 10 metro tickets and hopped on to the RER (B) from Cite-Universitaire to get to St. Michel. From there, the Cathedral of Notre-Dame is just across the street. My idea was to get to the Cathedral for the 9. 30 am Lauds service which was quite well attended by locals and a number of tourists. It lasted 30 minutes and at 10.00 am, I joined the line at the side of the Cathedral for free entry onto the spiral staircase that leads to the twin towers. I had never been up there (although I have visited and attended services in the Cathedral pretty often), and was rewarded with an absolutely fabulous day—clear and sunny (although freezing cold). This would ensure really spectacular pictures of Paris seen from a height.

Climbing to the Towers of Notre-Dame:

Having reached the line at 10.00am, I was shocked to find that there were at least 300 people in the line before me. So although the entry door opened at 10.00 am sharp, by the time I entered, I had waited in the line for one hour and 10 minutes. And the wait was brutal because the temperature was unseasonably low. Although I was very warmly clad, after about half an hour in the line, I started to freeze and actually had to enter one of the souvenir stores to warm myself.

In the end, however, the wait was fully worthwhile, for the bird’s-eye views of the city from the towers are hard to describe in words. Baron Hausmann’s glorious city was basking in the winter sun in its lovely ivory shade of Caen stone punctuated only occasionally by a recognizable spire of a church or a landmark building that was easy to recognize. I took so many pictures of the buildings and of the Seine and its bridges snaking around the city. However, it was not just the city that lay as if showing itself off at its dazzling best and waiting to be photographed, that caught my eye; it was the umpteen architectural features by which I was surrounded that had me completely enthralled. The famous gargoyles, for instance, created through the genius of Violet Le Duc, can be seen up close and personal. Great ugly stone animals and birds (such as eagle-like griffons) that are unrecognizable form the Gothic water spouts through which rain water is ingeniously siphoned down the building. There are statues of saints and a number of angels in prayer that would be impossible to see from ground level. The huge bells of the Cathedral are so close when you are up in the towers that to hear them peeling is to jump out of your skin. As I stood there taking photographs, I simply could not help thinking how worthwhile it was to have climbed 450 steps to get to the top. In fact, after one has circumnavigated one level of the tower, there is another flight of stairs to climb to get even higher. It was rather grudgingly that I climbed those, but from up there too the views that came into focus were sublime—the Eiffel Tower, the heights of Montmartre with the Church of Sacre-Coeur crowning it, the funky design of the Centre Pompidour designed by the Italian Renzo Piano, the confection that is the Opera Garnier designed by the one and only Charles Garnier, the dissimilar spires of the Church of St. Suplice, the ugliest tower in Paris (Tour Montparnasse), the Pantheon with its serene dome and the exuberant golden Dome Church at Les Invalids. I have to admit that I had a field day and was absolutely thrilled with my decision to get to the top as it was my first time—and probably my last (although never say never!). I seriously cannot see myself being able to repeat the feat of scaling 450 steps—and so I was also delighted that I had the perfect day on which to click my pictures.

Back on Terra Firma:

By 12 noon, I was back on terra firma and dying for some hot chocolate as I was unbelievably cold. As I walked along the back street, past the many souvenir stores that have sprouted on the streets leading from the Cathedral to the Seine, I arrived at Rue du Renard where I found a McDs! It was with such relief that I went inside to order a hot chocolate with whipped cream and gave my feet a well-earned rest. But then, not wanting to waste too much time on free Sunday, I hastened away to the next item on my agenda, past the legendary department store called BHV (and from where we once bought the best can-opener in the world!) to arrive at the Musee Picasso—the next item on my list.

Visiting the Musee Picasso:

About 30 years ago, on my first visit to Europe, I had received my first introduction to the world of the legendary Pablo Picasso in this museum. I can still remember seeing the giant painting of Les Demoiselles D’Avignon at the entrance and being stunned. I can recall walking in reverence from room to room as I reviewed Picasso’s work from phase to phase in his life. Marvelous curatorial notes in each gallery introduced the many influences in his life, the many women who crowded it and became subjects of his work, the many places in which he lived and found inspiration, the many experiments he conducted with form and color as he traced a trajectory that took him from realism during his early years in Barcelona to the varied ‘color’ phases—his Blue phase, his Rose Phase–his experiments with Cubism, his imitations of the work of the Masters  (his obsession with Velasquez, for instance, that resulted in the endless variations he created of Las Meninas). I had seen them all and understood with exceeding clarity, very early in my life, what Picasso had attempted to do and why he is regarded as perhaps the greatest artistic genius of the 20th century.

When I lived in Paris, four years ago, the Musee Picasso, which is located in a lovely hotel particulier (private manor) in the city on the Rue de Thorigny, was under renovation. They were going to re-structure it so that it would cease to be chronological and would only display some of his masterpieces at a time and often in conjunction with the work of other contemporary artists. Thus, when I arrived at the venue at about 1.00 pm, I found about 75 people in the line before me.  However, the line (unlike the one at Notre-Dame) moved speedily and I was inside in about 20 minutes.

Exploring the Musee Picasso:

This time, to my utter disappointment, I found that the museum had completely changed its display style and I am afraid I was neither impressed nor delighted. The early work was present but then the work transitioned too suddenly and with barely an adequate explanation from one gallery to the next. Also, this time the exhibition featured the work of Picasso and Giacometti, the sculptor who also made Paris his home. I surveyed the comparative exhibits very carefully and enjoyed it, undoubtedly…but my enjoyment and enlightenment were not nearly as profound as they had been 30 years ago. Still, I am glad I re-visited this museum and I would say that to anyone who has not been to it, a trip to Paris ought to include this museum.

Off to the Fondation Cartier:

Next on my agenda was a visit to the Fondation Cartier—which, as its name implies, was created under the patronage of the famed French jewelry house. My interest in seeing the place was to view the architectural genius of the great Jean Nouvel whose work I have seen in various parts of the world (the Opera House in Lyon, the Musee de Quai Blanchi in Paris, a Tower in Barcelona, etc). He is an architect with a non-conventional vision. He introduced the concept of blurring the lines between indoor and outdoor spaces, of creating hanging gardens that scale a whole wall, of using glass walls to block out traffic sounds, etc. So off I went to the Rue Raspail by metro to get to the museum—not really knowing what to expect inside.

To my surprise, a rather weird exhibition themed around ‘The Orchestra of Animals’ was in full swing. It had attracted a great deal of children (it was, after all, a Sunday) and was portrayed through multi-media. There were movies, film clips, paintings and, downstairs, in the basement, some more rather strange films. The exhibition wasn’t really my cup of tea at all, but I have to say that Novel’s building is striking. There is a lot of glass (his signature touch), miles of what look like pipes and loud primary colors everywhere. I did not spend too much time here and within the hour, I was out.

Off to the Arc de Triomphe:

Nightfall was not too far off by the time I emerged from the Fondation Cartier and out on the street. I took the metro again and made my way across the Seine on the 6 line which runs aloft and overground for most of its route. When you cross the Seine on the 6, you get glorious pictures of the Eiffel Tower and by day or night, it is compelling. My destination was the Champs-Elysses as I was headed to the Arc de Triomphe to climb it for the first time—also for free. I dreaded to think of how long the line would be, as it had been a long day and I was fatigued. But I pressed on and I arrived at my venue at about 5.00 pm when it had already become pretty dark.

A Word about the Champs-Elysses:

When I emerged from the metro station, I was stunned. The Champs-Elysses, the main artery that radiates from the Place de L’Etoile and the Arc de Triomphe, which some folks believe to be the most stylish of Paris’ avenues and certainly the one most used for public parades, was ablaze with Christmas color. It is indeed such a great time to be in Paris. The city is wearing its holiday best. There are lights everywhere. The stores are simply glittering with eye-candy of every sort. The jewel in the crown, however, is the Cartier building which was covered with red lights and wrapped in a dazzling bright red bow with the Cartier logo, the panther, also picked up in lights at the top of the building. I would have liked to have lingered longer on this lovely avenue, but I did not want to have too long a wait to get to the top of the Arc and hurried along.

Climbing the Arc de Triomphe:

There were about 250 people in the line ahead of me when I reached the Arc de Triomphe which looked gorgeous in the reflected aura of so many holiday lights. The line also moved quickly and in an organized fashion and, in no time at all, I was at the top taking in the beauty of the city as picked out in its lights. This time I had climbed 250 steps—you can just imagine how heroic I felt after having climbed 450 steps in the morning! I do not believe that I will ever be capable of accomplishing this again. The climb to the Arc was also the first time ever that I would be undertaking it—and so I was excited.

All the way to the top of the Arc, there are exhibits—trivia and other facts that can keep the visitor occupied. Once at the top, you circumnavigate the viewing platform to take in the sights. I deliberately decided to see the views of Paris from the Cathedral of Notre-Dame by day and then to see the same sights by night from the Arc de Triomphe as I was sure that illuminations would portray the city in a completely different light (pun unintended!). Needless to say, I caught the Eiffel Tower ablaze at the 6.00 pm hour and that was a thrill in itself. I went through the process, all over again, of taking dozens of pictures and was particularly taken by the Champs-Elysses itself with its holiday decorations and its giant Ferris wheel at one end (close to the Place de la Concorde). By the time I descended all those steps again and came down to ground level, I found out that the daily ceremony of the Changing of the Guard that takes place around the immortal flame at the tomb of the unknown soldier, was in full swing. It was quite moving to see the simple pageantry with which these rituals are observed. It involved reading from a text, the hoisting and carrying of the bleu, blanc, rouge, the blowing of bugles and the singing of the national anthem, La Marseillaise. Again, I took many pictures and thought to myself how wonderful it was that I was having all these varied experienced on a single day.

By this time, as you can understand, I was quite drooping with fatigue and decided that I needed to get straight back home. However, I was hungry and needed something more substantial than a salad—so I hopped into a McDs to get myself a Croque Monsieur which is a toasted ham and cheese sandwich—I got a takeaway and was soon on the train arriving at my room at 9.00 pm. I was exhausted and after eating it with a salad, I showered and did not waste any time in going straight off to sleep.

Free Sunday in Paris had been a resounding success!

A demain!      

Loafing Around the Loire Valley

Dec29

December 3, 2016, Saturday:

Loafing Around the Loire Valley

Since Llew needed to be at Charles de Gaulle airport at 7.00 am for his 10.00 am return flight to the US, he left our place at Cite Universitaire at 6.00 am. I decided to wake up and leave with him and spend the day in the Loire Valley using the Rail Europe pass I had that was valid for one more day. I did not know what to expect in terms of my rail journey. Our previous attempt to get to the Loire Valley via a train from Gare Austerlitz to Orleans had been a failure. This time I did some research on the internet and discovered that I could take a train from Gare Montparnasse to Tours—which was another way to get to the Loire Valley.

Accordingly, I paid the 9 euro supplement to use the TGV train from Paris to Tours and boarded one at 7.11 am. I got off at St. Pierre de Corps where I had a one hour wait in a tiny one-horse town that offered absolutely no interest on a fairly wet day. While waiting for a connecting train to Blois, I bought myself a coffee and a croissant and had breakfast in the bar attached to the station. It gave me free use of the SNCF’s internet network and enabled me to read up on the places I would be covering that day. I was back on a train at 9. 27 am and arrived in Blois 20 minutes later. I took advice from the staff at the station on how to get to Blois Castle and on being told that it was merely a ten-minute walk away, I strode forward.

 

What Makes the Loire Valley of Interest?

The Loire Valley grew into one of the most affluent parts of France from the 14th century onwards when aristocrats began to build themselves extensive homes that came to be called ‘Chateaux’ (castles) in the vicinity of the river Loire. Within a century, most of the country’s most prominent families had a country estate that bordered extensive inherited lands that were used for hunting, shooting and other such pass-times. These chateaux are museums today stacked with architectural interest, interior decorative details and furniture and accoutrements fit for kings. Many of them can boast extensive landscaped gardens that are still beautifully maintained and come into their own in the summer.

Visitors could spend as long as three weeks in the Loire Valley and not see all the chateaux. Most visitors spent 3-4 days and see a couple of chateaux a day. Each of them offers two or three highlights that make them different from the other. I did not have the luxury of spending quite that long in the Valley—nor did I believe that I would be able to spend more than one day taking in tours of interiors. Hence, I made the decision to spend one day there and to see two chateaux as conveniently as I could without the advantage of a car or other form of personal transport. Considering that I relied only on public transport, I did not do too badly at all, for I found out from the Tourist Office, once I got to Blois Castle, that I could easily see the whole place at leisure, then return to the town square to take a bus at 12. 30 that would take me to the next castle, Chambord, that was not too far away at all. At 5. 15 pm, there was a bus outside Chambord that would take me directly back to Blois for my return train to Paris.  I could not have been happier. It seemed that despite my apprehension, I would be able to cover two castles quite conveniently that day.

 

Exploring Blois Castle:

You enter Blois castle through a grand Gothic archway that is crowned with an equestrian statue of King Louis (who became St. Louis). I was also happy because they accepted my Met ID card at Blois—so all I had to pay for was the audio guide (4 euros). I gave myself about two and a half hours to see it—and off I went.

The castle of Blois was home to six kings and countless aristocratic visitors through a couple of centuries. As soon as you enter the central courtyard, you are struck by the fact that it has four distinct architectural styles: Gothic (13th century), Flamboyant Gothic (1498-1503), Early Renaissance (1515-24) and Classical (1630s)—based on the fact that different rulers had occupied it and had differing tastes. The most striking architectural feature is a spiral stone staircase that leads from one floor to the next. After I took pictures of the courtyard, I began my ascent up the stairs.

Inside, the castle took me a bit by surprise. I suppose I expected something more in the Baroque vein—as in the Louvre or Fontainbleu. Instead, I found that it was completely redesigned by Felix Durban in the 19th century who decided to make an empty castle a receptacle of 16th century decorative artistry. Thus, you will pass by pillared arches decorated with gilded paint, stained glass windows and stone motifs that sport the salamander—the logo of Francois I who spent a great deal of time here. On the ground floor, I went briskly through a museum devoted to stone sculpture that was salvaged from the castle. On the second floor, you pass through bedrooms that are well-refurbished. They contain Renaissance furniture, paintings and objets d’art. The salamander as a motif appears on mantelpieces of the many fireplaces scattered about the castle. The walls are thickly painted to resemble wall paper in close geometric designs that imitate the interior of Italian pallazos. The floors are formed of ceramic tile in elaborate designs and colors. There is a Long Gallery with a number of kingly portraits. One of the rooms that I found most unusual and interesting was one containing 237 wooden panels that are painted in such a way as to imitate 16th century leather tooling as found on book-bindings. The room was said to have been occupied by Catherine de Medici, mother of King Henry III, who is rumored to have hidden poison in the skirting boards to be taken in case of her capture. She died in the room in 1589, a few days after the most notorious murders took place in the castle (those compartments today hold Renaissance knick-knacks.).

The story of the murders are to be found in a room devoted to the gruesome murder of the Duke of Guise and his brother, the Cardinal of Lorraine by Henry III. Their deaths were avenged a year later when a monk assassinated the King himself. The story is depicted in large and very realistic paintings that left me spellbound as there is very little I know about French Renaissance history. As you walk through one bedroom after the other, you marvel at little details: a painting of a hirsuit young child who suffered from an illness that produces hair all over the face is of special interest. The beds are pretty interesting themselves—if you peer under their drapery, you will see paintings on the inside of their canopies. Finally, if you have the energy, you can spend a whole afternoon studying the various paintings in the extensive museum of fine arts which is also a part of the castle. I was not only tired by this point but found my sense of aesthetics saturated by an overdose of splendor. Thus, I merely marched through the museum and took in carefully just a couple of paintings by Rembrandt. Blois offers a lovely platform with a parapet that provides a lookout point for a panoramic view of the city and the river Loire upon whose banks it has been built. From the platform, I nipped into the chapel—which is quite small and plain but for its stained glass windows–but it was once the center of all religious activity.

 

Off to Chambord:

Following instructions, I arrived at the bus stop at 12. 15 for my 12.30 bus to Chambord. It arrived on the dot and for 3 euros (paid to the driver) ferried me to Chambord. Often when one travels, it is the least exciting elements of one’s journey that provide the greatest interest—this was certainly the case here as the 20 minute bus journey took me into the tiniest, quietest villages filled with small cottages that I adored. When we did arrive at Chambord, we drove along an allee of trees (similar to the castle of Vaux le Viscount) near Paris that I had visited four years ago.

Exploring Chambord:

Chambord is gigantic—it is probably the largest of the castles in the Loire Valley. A part of it was under scaffolding as renovation on so huge a place is constantly on-going. If you can believe this, this humongous place was the “hunting lodge” of King Francois I—he of the salamander motif.  It’s owner’s motive in building it was to outshine the buildings of the Holy Roman Emperor Charles V who was known as the greatest builder in the universe. There are more than 440 room and 85 staircases—and only a fraction of these are open to the public on the self-guided tour.

Here, too, I was permitted to enter sans entry fee as I had my Met ID card. However, I did rent an audio guide for 5 euros that hardly worked at all. It was governed by a sensor which was most insensitive. The end result was that I missed out on a lot of details.

The first thing that strikes the visitor at Chambord is the double-helix staircase that is said to have been designed by the great Leonardo da Vinci who died in 1516 in nearby Amboise castle. The ingenuity of the design lies in the fact that although one climber might occasionally pass someone going in the opposite direction, they will never be able to see each other despite the existence of windows cut into the staircase. On each floor, there are a multitude of rooms to be explored and I grew deeply fatigued as I tried to see them all. Some rooms are practically empty, others are full and the level of grandeur in each one is different. Furthermore, the castle was simply freezing (even before the onset of winter) which explains why the Marquis of Poland who was offered refuge here from his enemies, did not stay very long! The few fireplaces had fires going—and they were very welcome too as visitors stopped to warm their frozen fingers at the embers. Some of the more striking rooms here was the Hunting Trophy Room hung with gorgeous paintings of wild life and surrounded by vitrines filled with stuffed animals and birds. The Chapel was also a large, double-storied room, rather stark in decoration, but pretty piously atmospheric. Chambord had marvelous wrap-around balconies that connected the various wings and bedrooms that were quite spectacularly furnished. One of its star attraction is the rooftop, which you reach through a winding staircase, up several tiring floor, to arrive at a sheer confection of domes, cupolas, pillars, arched doorways, etc. all decorated thickly in Gothic stone tracery. There is a bell lantern or cupola which is also very visually interesting. You can visit the kitchens on the ground floor, if you have the time and energy. Chambord also has massive gardens that are all landscaped in the formal Italianate style—but in the autumn, there is not much to do except walk in them for exercise. As for me, I was so tired by this point that I could barely muster the energy to take a look at the adjoining church which was, perhaps fortunately, closed. I browsed about some of the shops at the entrance before I caught the 5. 15 pm bus back to Blois station (passing once again the pretty village vignettes of the morning) and arrived on the 6.02 train back to Paris about an hour later.

The Loire Valley had been a revelation and I was absolutely thrilled as it ticked one more item off my Bucket List—I had been desirous of seeing this region forever.

 

Grocery Shopping in Paris:

I badly needed groceries for the week, so although I was ready to drop, I soldiered on to a small Monoprix for basic items. I bought a bag of chocolate brioche for breakfast, a bag of salad, a bottle of cream dressing, a packet of smoked salmon, a round of blue cheese and a baguette. With these basic food items, I would have enough to eat for days—because I was delighted to find a small refrigerator in my room! I took a shower and did a bit of washing of my clothing and went to sleep at about 10.20 pm when I was ready to drop.

 

A demain!     

 

Au Revoir Cote d’Azur, Bonjour Paris

Dec27

December 2, 2016, Friday:

From Nice to Paris:

When we awoke in Nice with the realization that our direct non-stop train back to Paris was only at 11.00 am, we made the impromptu decision to go back to Monte Carlo for breakfast—this was so that Llew could see the city (and the country, Monaco) by day. With our bags packed and left waiting for our return, we set out to Nice station and boarded a train that was leaving for Monte Carlo right away.

It was while we were on the train that I realized that it would be making a stop at Eze—which is reputedly one of the prettiest villages on the Cote D’Azur. I talked Llew into getting off and exploring it with me. However, the train station is called Eze Sur Mer—i.e. Eze by the Water. The village of Eze which is visit-worthy is tucked up high in the steep gray mountains that are a backdrop to the small village near the station. There we made inquiries about a bus that would take us up to the village—but we soon discovered that there was nothing until 10.00 am and that taxis to get to the top would cost us no less than 50 euros—plus, when we arrived at the top, the entire town would be closed as nothing opened until 10.00 am. Left with very little choice, we made the decision to scrap our plans for Eze Village and to return to the station to board a train to Monte Carlo. We lost about twenty minutes in the process, but there was still time for us to take in the city by daylight.

Breakfast in Monaco:

Luckily for us, a train pulled up pretty soon—within ten minutes—and off we went to Monte Carlo. We hurried out and walked towards the waterfront. En route, we picked up chocolate brioche from a supermarket and takeaway coffee and seated at the edge of the water with small watercraft and luxury yachts lined up in the harbor as well as the stone façade of the Royal Palace of Monaco (that I have visited and toured on a previous visit about 30 years ago when both Prince Rainier and Princess Grace were still alive), munched quite happily. The gorgeous buildings that we had seen, the previous night, clinging precariously to the sloping mountains looked completely different (but no less pleasing) by day. We took a few photographs as we sat on the parapet overlooking the harbor and ate. The temperature was just perfect and the scene could not have been more exciting. I was glad that although our return detour to Monte Carlo was brief, it was still completely worthwhile.

On the Train from Nice to Paris:

Back in our hotel, we picked up our bags and made our way to Nice station well in time for the 11.00 am train that took us non-stop to Paris. As was to be expected, we thoroughly enjoyed the ride along the Cote d’Azur that we were lucky to do for the second time. I sat by the window and took as many pictures as I could take from a moving train which basically retraced our route of the previous day going through Marseilles and Avignon and the green fields of Provence before taking us through the vineyards of Bordeaux and on to Paris where we arrived at about 4.00 pm at Gare de Lyon. We walked a few minutes across the Seine to Gare Austerlitz to pick up Llew’s consigned bag from the Left Luggage Locker and then took the Metro to make our way on the RER (B) to Cite-Universitaire where I had booked a room for the week at the Fondation des Etats-Unis. It was so exciting to get back in the RER train again as I had become familiar with this route during the summer I had spent in Paris, four years ago.

Settling into Cite Universitaire and Strolling Around Paris:

It was not long before we were picking up the key to our room at the Fondation. Indeed, it felt great to come home again—in a sense, as this place had been a much-loved home for me, a few years ago. Deciding again to make the most of Llew’s last night in Paris, we bought a carnet (book) of ten metro tickets and took the RER (B) again to St. Michel. From this stop, it is just the crossing of a road that gets you to the Parvis (courtyard) of the Cathedral of Notre-Dame and it was there, bathed in lovely soft light, that we took pictures of Paris by Night.

Our aim to get to the Ile de St. Louis to pick up ice-cream from the famed Berthillon Ice-Cream Parlor where we had frequently eaten ice-cream on our last stay in Paris. We got there by the skin of our teeth at 8.00 pm just before they closed. Llew chose Dark Chocolate and Glazed Chestnut flavors while I chose the Glazed Chestnut and the Passionfruit Sorbet. They were just delicious. Eating our ice-cream, we strolled along the banks of the Seine taking in the sights of the Eiffel Tower flickering again as it does at every hour. We stopped on the Pont d’Archeveche (which used to be festooned with the infamous locks—but not anymore!) to take more pictures and, walking along the quai, we returned to St. Michel to board our train and get back to our accommodation for the night.

Llew’s last night in France and of his holiday turned out to be perfect. We had two splendid weeks together and it was with a heavy heart that I would see him leave on the morrow. He was to awake very early to get to the airport and I decided to accompany him on the metro train for part of the way after which I would switch to a long-distance train to the Loire Valley as I still had use of our unlimited eight-day train tickets.

A demain!                         

 

Everything’s Nice About Nice and Monte Carlo

Dec27

December 1, Thursday:

Everything’s Nice About Nice and Monte Carlo, Cote d’Azur          

We left Genevieve’s place rather early in the morning for our train to the Cote d’Azur after quick showers. Unfortunately, we did not have the time to enjoy the breakfast pastries that Geneveive and Frederic had laid out of us—brioche de pralines (which is a specialty of Lyon), pain de raisins and pain de chocolate. But we carried them with us to enjoy at our leisure once we were on the train.

To our enormous surprise, we needed reservations for the train to Nice and since we did not have them, we could not board the one that was leaving shortly. Instead, we got reservations for the following one (that left at 11.00 am). We ate our breakfast pastries with hot chocolate that we picked up from Paul’s Patisserie at the station and had them in the waiting room.

Train Ride to Nice:

We did board our train at 11.00 am and gave ourselves up to the enjoyment of yet another lovely train ride through the heart of France. This ride took us through Provence and the folk- song town of Avignon (Sur le Pont d’Avignon, on y danse, etc.) where we passed by one of its famed aqueducts (it was not the Pont du Gard although I have seen that before on another visit to Provence about 30 years ago!).

However, the real glory of the ride began once we passed Marseilles and reached the azure-blue Mediterranean coast where the scenery changed dramatically to reflect the rocky red coastline and the snazzy towns that have mushroomed along it. Indeed we took many pictures of the dazzling waterfront with its low-growing trees, its snaking highway (made famous in many Hitchcock films), its pretty white towns and then the well-known cities that have made the area famous: Juan Les Pins, Antibes, Cannes. Boats of varied size and shape were moored in the waters, hotels perched at the edge sported interesting shapes and forms and when we arrived in Cannes, its unmistakable palm trees defined it very well. This drive is one of the most beautiful in the world and I was glad that we were able to do it by train so that Llew too (who usually does the driving) could enjoy it fully.

Touring Nice on Foot:

Eventually we arrived at our destination—the city of Nice. We had made a reservation in the Hotel du Midi which happened to be just a five minute walk from the station. We popped into the Tourist Information Center, got ourselves maps and asked for suggestions on how we could spend the few hours left to us—as it was already 4.00 pm and we had only a few hours before daylight disappeared. The lovely lady gave us very precise instructions and we set out for our hotel to drop our bags off and start our exploration of the city on foot.

Hotel du Midi turned out to be just lovely. Its location was splendid, it was cozy and clean and met all our needs. Since it was just about morning in Los Angeles, we thought of Facetiming with Chriselle as it was her birthday and we were keen to made facial contact with her before setting out on our sightseeing jaunt. We were very lucky that we were able to get her for a few minutes and were able to convey our wishes before a bad connection ended our call.

Then, stashing our stuff away, we grabbed our maps and set out on foot to find Avenue Jean Medecin which is the main artery that cuts through the city and arrives at the waterfront. When we passed by the Church of Notre-Dame, we stepped on for a visit to pray for Chriselle on her birthday.

Avenue Jean Medecin is a busy thoroughfare, lined on both sides by stores of all kinds as well as fast-food places. We walked briskly towards the water but stopped at Cours Saleya where a large sculpture saying ‘I Love Nice’ had been set up in front of a series of water fountains. Indeed Nice is a very pretty city and Cours Saleya with its pink-fronted low arcaded buildings and its Christmas Tree made a good entry point for our stroll along the famous waterfront.

A Stroll Along the Waterfront in Nice:

Nice has a very wide promenade that was filled with joggers, dog-walkers and flaneurs when we arrived there. The Promenade des Etats-Unis leads to the Promenade des Anglais which is the most hip part of the scene. The beach is sandy and wide and, in summer, is covered with near-naked bodies, sun-bathing. On this chilly evening, it was quite deserted, but we did walk towards the waves and attempted to dip our toes into the water. Once at the Promenade des Anglais, we admired the hotels on the other side as twilight had fallen and the lights had come on across the street. Sunset painted the sky in appealing autumnal shades of yellow, salmon pink and cream. The Hotel Negressco is particularly striking and we entered its lobby for a little look around.

Then deciding not to waste precious time, we retraced our steps, this time along the road passing by all the grand hotels and arriving at Cours Saleya in search of Fragonard, the famed French perfumier who has its base in nearby Grasse—where the perfumes are actually made and where the flowers are grown. Thankfully, Fragonard’s showroom in Nice was well-stocked and I ended up buying the soap and perfume I wanted to replenish my stocks. We then walked back to our hotel to leave our packages there and decided to take a train to Monte Carlo in Monaco that was just a 20 minute drive away with the idea of having dinner there.

Dinner at Bouchon in Monte Carlo:

We found a train from Nice to Monte Carlo leaving within ten minutes and off we went to one of the world’s ritziest cities in one of the world’s smallest countries—Monaco. Although it was already dark when we arrived there, we asked for directions on foot to Bouchon, a Lyonnaise-style eatery that offers traditional French food. We were told to head towards the waterfront—so off we went. I have to say that speaking fluent French is a huge advantage as it was so easy to get anywhere simply by asking for and receiving directions.

En route, we passed by the world-reputed Grand Casino set in a fairy-tale like building. I would have liked to step into it, but Llew was hungry and wished to eat dinner. On we went past some of the most beautiful buildings and swankiest shops. Indeed, in the soft reflection of fluorescent lights, Monte Carlo glowed softly. It was quite magical indeed.

When we arrived at Bouchon, we found it to be the perfect French place. We started off with red wine then moved on to steak-frites and an assorted cheese and fruit place for dessert. We did not hurry over dinner as we felt sure we had plenty of trains to get us back to Nice. But at the end of our meal, when I took a look at the time table, I found that the last train to Nice had left long ago! We were stumped as to how we should proceed—would a cab be in order? Would we end up spending a night in pricey Monte Carlo?

Without wasting any more time, we paid our bill and hurried along to the station by tracing our steps back and found that a train would actually be leaving in exactly 6 minutes! There was no time to lose. We hotfooted it to the platform and managed to make the train in the nick of time—the female conductor actually waited for us to board it before giving the signal for departure! I was a panting mess when I plopped down in the train, but at the end of the day, we made it back to Nice at about 11. 30 pm, walked to our hotel and made straight for bed after what had been a most exciting day.

A demain!       

 

Lolloping Around Lyon

Dec27

November 30, 2016, Wednesday:

Lolloping Around Lyon

A Bit of a Disappointment:

Today turned out to be a bit of a bummer. After a really good Continental breakfast (croissants, baguettes, butter and jams with café au lait—mais oui!) at Hotel Liege Strasbourg which was included in our tariff, we set out for Gare Austerlitz with the idea of taking a train to the Loire Valley as that was where we wished to spend the day. But when we arrived at the station, we found that our train to Orleans (where we were headed) was indefinitely delayed due to an electrical breakdown on the line. Since we had the flexibility of going wherever we pleased with our tickets, we made the spur-of-the-moment decision to change course and head for Lyon instead. I called Genevieve, my French pen pal of 36 years (who had been expecting us a day later) and left her a message to tell her that we were headed to Lyon instead. The man at the Information Counter told me that if we made our way on foot across a bridge over the Seine, we would reach Gare de Lyon in ten minutes and would be in time to get the next train to Lyon. Accordingly, we dropped everything and rushed off in pursuit of the train.

More disappointments followed. At the station (where we arrived on time), we discovered that our train tickets were not valid on the TGV (Tres Grand Vitesse—Super Fast) trains, that we would need to make reservations on such trains and pay an additional surcharge, if necessary. Thus, we could not take the train that we had intended, but had to wait for the next train that had seats. This was only at 11.00 am, so that by the time we reached Lyon it was close to 1.00 pm. Fortunately, this happened to be Genevieve’s lunch hour and she was able to get off work for a little while, pick us up from Lyon Part-Dieu Station and drop us off to a very busy touristic square called Place Bellecour that I know well. It was great that Llew and Genevieve finally met. I have spoken of her to him for so many years and of him to her as well! Llew was struck by how warm and friendly she is and how wonderfully well we have stayed in touch and had many meetings through the years.

Touring Lyon on Foot:

Knowing Lyon as well as I do—I had only placed this second-largest French city on our itinerary as Llew had never been there and I was keen for him to meet Genevieve and her family—it was very easy for me to play tour guide.

We started at the equestrian statue of King Louis XIV in the center of the square where we took a few pictures. We then obtained maps from the Tourist Information Center and set off on foot for Old Lyon where we immediately came upon the Cathedral of St. Jean which is filled with stained glass in the royaume style (as seen in St. Chapelle in Paris) and a glorious ornate antique clock that still tells the time.

Next, after posing in the Cathedral square with the Church of Notre-Dame de Fourviere behind us, we began to look for the funicular train that would take us up Fourviere Mountain to the Cathedral. We found this soon enough (after asking a young boy for directions—he happened to have one French and one American parent and had done part of his high schooling in the USA!–and rode the train up on what was a glorious day, if a trifle too cool.

Visiting the Church of Notre-Dame de Fourviere:

This was my third visit to the church and it is amazing how completely you forget just how gorgeous the interior of this church is. It is a mixture of Gothic and Baroque styles—it has a multitude of Byzantine mosaics that completely cover the ceilings and the walls and leave your jaw dropping. There are gilded angels, sculpted saints, medallions rondels on the ceiling that depict the pantheon of the heavens is wondrous guise—we simply could not get enough pictures. The location of the church also offers amazing views of Lyon from the mountain viewing platform and loads of people were taking pictures of the panorama spread out below us: Place Bellecour with its gigantic ferris wheel (does every city in the world now boast one or what?), the two rivers (the Rhone and the Saone) that wind through the city and connect various parts through romantic bridges, Old Lyon with its winding narrow streets. It really was such a fun way to get a bird’s eye view of the city.

The Traboules of Old Lyon:

On the funicular down, we were on terra firma once again—this time we explored the winding maze of lanes that make up romantic Old Lyon with its multitude of charming restaurants, its souvenir shops selling typical confections such as the ‘cousins’ (chocolate and mint flavored cushion-shaped candy), its tiny hostelries. But Old Lyon is best-known for one thing: its traboules. Having explored them myself on an earlier trip, I was keen for Llew to get a whiff of them as well. Traboules are secret passages that led from the homes of the ‘canuts’ or silk-weavers (for Lyon is famous for its silk ateliers) to the river banks from where silk was transported to their homes and the finished products they wove taken back on to boats for trade around the country. The traboules are reached through nondescript wooden doors that face the cobbled streets of the old city. You ring a bell and hope the current residents will let you in so that you can poke around the inner space at leisure. Inside, you will find an apartment building with certain unique features: paint is always in earth tones—yellow, orchre, red, russet. There are rounded balconies and long passages connecting homes. It is all very quaint and very interesting.

In Search of Antonio Canova, Silk Designer Extraordinaire:

Having seen some of Lyon’s main attractions (other than its fine arts museums for which we had little time), Llew offered to buy me a silk scarf from one of my favorite scarf designers of all time, Antonio Canova. Canova is an Italian artist and designer who made his home in France many years ago. He set up shop in Lyon, home of the competitive world silk scarf industry and began designing for the likes of Hermes, Salvatore Ferragamo, Chanel, Cartier, etc. I have, over the years, made many trips to his atelier in a hotel particulier (private mansion) in Lyon where I have feasted visually on his work and acquired some of his fabulous pieces.

So, walking for about 20 minutes over several bridges and their quais, we arrived at Canova’s atelier (or workshop), which is actually marked on the official map of Lyon. I have met his daughter Clothilde (who runs the business with him) before, so I was not surprised to see her. But imagine my delight when I discovered the door opened by Canova himself! Indeed, I was beside myself with delight. In his showroom, he escorted us personally and gave us a tour of some of his more recent designs. Alas, I have to say that I was not a fan of the more Modernist aesthetic in which he has recently chosen to work. I prefer the more classical styles in French scarves and when he drew my attention to the silk scarves of Paul Boccaro, another famed French designer who passed away a few years ago and whose work he now carries in his showroom and represents, I was sold. The scarves were also being offered at hugely slashed prices—which led Llew to buy me two of them! Needless to say, I was absolutely delighted with my gifts.

Afternoon Tea at Café des Negociants:

With about an hour to spare before we met up again with Genevieve who would be picking us up after work at 6.00 pm from Place Bellecour, we found our way into Café des Negociants which is renowned as being one of the most chi-chi salons de the (or tearooms) in Lyons. Inside, in a deluxe atmosphere, with plush velvet banquettes, multiple images created by sparkling mirrors on the wall and twinkling chandeliers that hung low from the ceiling, we ordered tea and hot chocolate and shared a decadent chocolate pastry while chatting with two super-chic French women seated beside us who actually had two miniature lap-dogs with them! Indeed, the restaurant was filled with the most elegantly-dressed women, dripping pearls and clad cozily in cashmere who sipped their tea delicately and savored their cakes. It was a bit of old France to linger over.

Seeing Lyon By Night:

We did meet Genevieve on schedule at 6.00 pm when she swung up to pick us up in her car. But before she took us homewards, she suggested a driving tour of the city so that we could see its many monuments by night—which was really sweet of her. Accordingly, we saw the Opera House—a centuries-old structure that has been ‘improved’ by the famous French architect, Jean Nouvel, who has created a glass arch on top of the building. We also saw the Place de Terreaux with its marvelous sculpture of Neptune and his sea-horses by the French sculptor Bartoldi (who designed the Statue of Liberty). Alas, much of it was concealed by scaffolding for renovation. Next, Genevieve drove us across a river to see the strangely Modernist building that houses the city’s newest museum—the Museum of ….that is designed by ….. in such a way that almost every side of it has a different aesthetic. The drive offered a real capsule of the glorious public buildings and squares that make up Lyon and I do believe that Llew got a really good feel for the place.

Evening and Dinner with the Tougne-Ducotes:

Genevieve then drove us the twenty-minute distance to her home in St. Didier du Mont D’Or—one of Lyon’s most affluent suburbs, set high up on a mountain. It was fabulous to meet Genevieve’s family members again (after four years): husband Frederic and son Amaury (who amazed me at how big he’d grown—he even had a girl-friend named Elisa!). His older brother Louis was out but was expected to join us shortly.

After drinks (red wine) and nibbles, Genevieve ushered us into the dining room. Having spent two stints before in the Ducote home, I am quite familiar with the antiquated grandeur of it all as Frederic is a retired antiques’ dealer in Lyon. The home is filled with furniture and decorative objects from centuries past that lend a sophisticated antiquity to their home and its grand proportions—indeed it is built to resemble an old chateau.

The dining room was beautifully laid with antique fianc (ceramic plates) and in the center was an old iron contraption that turned out to be an electric machine for making raclette—a traditional cheese dinner that hails from the Haute Savoie region of France that borders Switzerland (where raclette is also a favorite). A heated hotplate in two tiers is used to melt slices of raclette cheese that are placed in smaller pans so that they melt and are removed to be poured over boiled potatoes which are passed around. Also accompanying the dish is a variety of cold meats such as smoked ham, boiled ham and salami and pickles such as cornichons. It made a grand old dinner and we had the best time as we melted our slices of cheese individually and dived in.

Lots of red wine flowed, a lot of pictures were clicked for posterity, Frederic kept the conversation going (in French) with his strong political views, and then, when Louis arrived to join us, he posed with us for pictures too. Overall, we had a really splendid evening with our friends and a really lovely introduction (for Llew) to one of France’s most beautiful cities.

Not long afterwards, as Genevieve had to return to work, the next day, we retired for the night in a beautiful bedroom decorated with a decidedly feminine touch.

            A demain!

 

A Pilgrimage to Lourdes

Dec27

November 29, 2016, Tuesday:

A Pilgrimage to Lourdes

            We arrived on schedule at Toulouse at 6.45 am after poor Llew complained that he had barely slept. I, on the other hand, had slept fairly well considering that I was sitting up in a moving train—but that was because I had dozed myself with medication to kill a cold that I had picked up in Israel. At 7.41, we boarded another train from Toulouse for Lourdes and arrived at Montrajet-Gourdan Poligny at 9.40 am. We had about an hour to wait at that small village in the midst of nowhere and decided to take a little walk. A bus (also run by the SNCF—Syndicat Nationale de Chemin de Fer) that we boarded at 10.41 am eventually got us to Lourdes to 12 noon! As you can see, getting to Lourdes is not easy—even if you take trains from Paris. No wonder people prefer to drive to Lourdes. But, if you can believe it, we really did enjoy all these bits of the journey as they were quite pleasant, offered wonderful scenery and allowed us to chat and catch up on our many months of absence. The last bit (the bus ride) was particularly nice as the Pyrennes came into view with their snow caps.

Arrival in Lourdes:

However, Lourdes turned out to be a real disappointment in many ways. For one thing, I guess November is not the time to be there as it is way past the ‘season’. Once we alighted from the bus at the bus station, we obtained a map from the Tourist Information Center at the train station and the lady there showed me exactly how to get to the Basilica—which is the biggest attraction.

Walking there took about fifteen minutes. Throughout the walk we found that every single commercial establishment was shut—every restaurant, most hotels and almost all the souvenir shops. The only ones open were those nearest to the basilica. The Basilica has been built on the top of the grotto at which the Virgin Mary appeared to a simple village girl called Bernadette in….. The village catapulted into global prominence and began to draw large numbers of pilgrims. So large were the crowds that the basilica was built to sanctify the venue. It is a very elaborate building and characterized by two levels—an upper and a lower. From the front, it looks almost like a fairy-tale castle with its towering conical turrets and its beautiful location on the banks of the River Pau. Autumn had brought lovely russet color to the trees that framed the church.

There is an elaborate mosaic at the entrance of the lower church but long before we arrived there, we were stunned by the number and size of the candles that had been lit by the faithful. Every single one of the decades of the Rosary are interpreted upon the walls of the church in Byzantine mosaics. When we had spent a while in the church, we went outside to the grotto to pray there. It is lovely that they have retained the grotto exactly as it was and have constructed the church to rise above it. The grotto does not have a statue of Bernadette—surprisingly—just one of Mary. There too, we took pictures and said a few Hail Marys for the many people who asked us to pray for them at Lourdes.

Unfortunately, the pools at which people take a ritualistic dunking, were all closed as it would simply be too cold for anyone to take a dip. Similarly, although we crossed the bridge over the Pau, we found that the smaller church on the other side, closes on October 1 and remains closed up to April 1. So, apart from actually praying in the basilica, there was not much we could do in Lourdes. But that was okay because that was exactly why we had made our pilgrimage to Lourdes. On our way back to the railway station, we found a souvenir store opened and from there, we did buy a magnet and our postcard. But that was it. Still, despite the disappointment, it was nice to eventually get to Lourdes and be able to continue the pilgrimage that we had started in the Holy Land.

Return to Paris:

Since we had more than an hour to wait at Lourdes station for our return direct train to Paris which left at 4.34 pm, we used the time to make a reservation for the night, through Hotels.com, in a centrally-located hotel in Paris called Hotel Liege Strasbourg and it was there that we reached at about 10.30 pm. It turned out to be a really nice hotel—clean, safe and up on the fifth floor of the building, it offered lovely views of the rooftops of Paris.

A demain…

Hanging Out On A Farm in Normandy

Dec27

November 28, 2016, Monday:

Hanging with Friends in Normandy:

This was a totally relaxed day—and one we badly needed after our ultra-hectic week in Israel when each day had been spent galloping from one spot to the next. This was a day to savor the company of close friends, to recharge our mental and psychological batteries in the peaceful quiet of the Normandy countryside, surrounded only by fields and farms.

We woke up very early as we did want to meet the Lerouxel children—Jean, Marius and Julia—before they left for school as we would have left by the time they returned home in the evening. Again, we were really amazed at how big they’ve grown. Julia was under two when we had last seen the family and spent time with them in Normandy. After they had eaten their breakfasts, we took some pictures with them and they left for the day with Florence driving them to school.

Jacques had bought lovely fresh croissants for us and together with French baguettes and Florence’s homemade apricot jam (she is a hobbyist jam-maker) and coffee, we had ourselves a terrific breakfast. After we had checked the train schedules to plan our departure and arrival at our next venue (Lourdes), we were invited by Jacques to accompany him to his smoked ham processing plant which is his business. The enterprise is called Jambons d’Antan and we are quite familiar with it as we have visited it on every trip we have made to Normandy.

What surprised us is how big his business has grown since we were last there (about eight years ago). He has expanded hugely and now has much larger premises (designed by Florence who is an architect) and has a much greater output. Jacques gave us a wonderful tour of the plant and took us into his little theater where he showed us a film made very professionally on his products. It was quite fascinating indeed and we enjoyed it. Next, Jacques took us to his office where I was able to use his computer to get something urgent printed out. That chore done, we made our way back to his home for lunch.

Lunch was very much a repeat of the late night dinner we’d had—roast beef, some of his wonderful smoked ham, bread, cheese and apple cake for dessert. After lunch, Jacques suggested a long walk around his farm and we readily complied. He showed us his walnut and hazelnut trees (there were still some last late nuts on them which we picked up and enjoyed), his cider-making outfit (Normandy is noted for its cider and its calvados), the wheat fields that he recently sowed for the first time, the chicken coops from which Florence collects fresh eggs each morning. Indeed, Hotel Cocagne is a working farm and we were treated to the full works as we did the rounds.

Not long afterwards, Jacques loaded our bags into his car so that he could drop us off to Lison station for our 6.18 train back to Paris from where we would take a red-eye train to Lourdes. We stopped en route at Florence’s office in Marigny, said goodbye to her and then drove off to Lison to catch our train. Our friends were very sorry that we had stayed for just one day and kept persuading us to stay longer. But we really did want to cover quite a lot of French ground and we needed to get going.

We reached Paris Gare de St. Lazare at 8.40 pm. From there, we took the Metro again to Gare Austerlitz where we made the decision that Llew would leave his large suitcase in the Left Luggage Locker and that he would travel with a small overnight bag. Each time we returned to Paris, he would take the things he would need for his onward journey. It turned out to be the best decision we ever made as he was able to move around with so much more freedom.

A little later, we boarded our train (at 10. 45 pm) to Lourdes. It was supposed to arrive at Toulouse at 6. 45 am, so we settled down in chair seats for the night.

A demain….

 

Frolicking (Again) Through France–From Tel Aviv to Paris

Dec27

Bonjour!

Following our eight-day tour of the Holy Land, Llew and I spent a week in France together using Rail Europe train passes. After his departure to the US, I continued to stay on in Paris. Here is an account of the week we passed together and the time I spent alone in France.

November 27, Sunday: Tel Aviv-Paris

We arrived in Paris from Tel Aviv at exactly 6.00 pm—our touchdown was made special by the fact that at each hour, on the hour, the Eiffel Tower glitters with thousands of lights that flicker for a whole five minutes. Imagine being greeted by this sight when we arrived! It was incredible. We could also see the Place de L’Etoile very clearly marked by the series of roads that branch out from the Arc de Triomphe. It was such a fabulous welcome to France and we were absolutely thrilled.

We went through Immigration , got hold of our baggage and made our way to the train station to catch the train to the city. We arrived at Gare du Nord on the RER (B) train and changed there to the Metro to get ourselves to Gare St. Lazare from where we boarded the 8.42 pm train to Normandy by activating our eight-day unlimited train travel tickets called Rail Europe that we had purchased in the USA. Our destination was Lison where our friend Jacques was awaiting our arrival—despite the late hour (it was 10.42 pm. by the time we reached him). Another 15 minutes of a drive to his little village of Quibou brought us to his sprawling farm called Hotel Cocagne where we had a lovely welcome from his wife Florence who we were delighted to see again after four years. (We had last met in Paris when I was staying there for a summer).

As Llew was starving (we had found no time to grab a sandwich and there was no bar car on our train), we did not refuse Florence’s offer of a quick bite. We settled down with good French bread and some roast beef with cheese and an apple cake for dessert over a glass of red wine. It was a fine entry to the kind of meals I would eat for the next couple of weeks. We did not waste too much time staying awake as our hosts needed to call it a day—and so within an hour of our arrival in Normandy, we went straight off to sleep in the lovely room that they had prepared for us.

A demain…

 

Au Revoir Israel, Bonjour France: Israeli Museum to see the Dead Sea Scrolls and Arrival in Paris

Dec22

Nov 27, Sun

Jerusalem-Paris:

As agreed, we arose early and went down for breakfast at 7.00 am so as to wish our friends farewell. Then Llew and I lingered over our breakfast as we had finished packing and had our bags ready. At 9.30 am, as decided, our cab arrived at the hotel and transported us to the hired cab. The Israeli Museum did not open till 10.00 am but we wanted to be there at 10.00 am, so as not to waste any time. Accordingly, we told the cab driver to come to our hotel at 9.30.

Visiting the Russian Orthodox Church:

Since we finished our breakfast really early, the two of us decided to go for a walk around our hotel as there was still about an hour before the arrival of our cab. We were really happy to find signs directing us to a Russian Orthodox Church and since it was a Sunday, it was only appropriate that we should go in for a visit even if we could not catch a whole Mass.

The Church was only a few minutes from our hotel and it is strange that we did not see it earlier. Like most Russian Orthodox churches (and we had seen loads of these in St. Petersburg in Russia), this was ornate and filled with incense. We took in the sights of pictures and icons and when we had spent a while praying, we left and made our way to a store to buy some socks for our friend Cheri-Anne who had been looking for them.

We then took our purchase and returned to the hotel so that we could board our cab and get to the museum as soon as possible.

Visiting the Israeli Museum and Seeing the Dead Sea Scrolls:

Llew was very uneasy about our stop at the Museum as he did not want us to miss our flight. Security lines at the airport were notoriously long and we wanted to give ourselves at least 3 hours before our flight departed. Accordingly, we told the cab driver that we wanted to get to the museum as soon as possible. We got there about 9.45 am and were actually able to buy our tickets before 10.00. Thus, as soon as the museum opened at 10.00, we, who had found out exactly where the Dead Sea Scrolls are located, made a beeline for them. They are in a special white building built in a conical design (to imitate the tops of the pottery jars in which the Scrolls were found).

We were the first visitors into the Museum and into the Scroll Building. We met an old man who guided us about but told us that photographs were strictly prohibited. The building is round in shape with the scrolls exhibited in upright glass cases around the periphery. We found that some of them were just scraps in a bad state of repair while others were almost intact and remarkably well-preserved considering their antiquity. In the center of the Hall is a structure that looks like a huge rubber stamp. All around it are copies of the scrolls—but the originals are in the glass cases where they are kept in climate controlled conditions under very dim lighting. The scrolls are rotated every few weeks so that the same ones are never on display—this is another way of preserving them. We took a very good look at the scrolls and were absolutely thrilled that we had the opportunity to do so – as it is very unlikely we will ever return to Jerusalem.

However, having discovered that there were another two exhibits that I simply had to see, I pulled Llew in with me. One was a nano-sized Bible—the smallest in the world. On a computer chip, no bigger than my finger-nail, the entire Bible has been reproduced. It was simply incredible. This exhibit also had its own gallery.

The Model of Old Jerusalem:

Finally, the last item on our agenda in the museum was the viewing of a model of the city of Jerusalem as it had existed during the reign of King Solomon and before the destruction of the Temple. There was a viewing platform from which we could survey the entire structure and it was simply magnificent. In fact, in retrospect, I do believe that it was more stirring for me to see it than the Dead Sea Scrolls. It is hard to imagine how grand Jerusalem was in its heyday. Needless to say, the Temple dominated with the structure holding the Arc of the Covenant and the Ten Commandments made most prominent. It was a perfect example of urban planning—a sort of carbon copy of Rome in its own heyday. I took many pictures but then we had to hurry out.

A few minutes later, we were in our cab on schedule (at 10.20 am) and heading to the airport to get there by 11.30 am—which gave us exactly three hours before our departure. We had an absolute nightmare going through security because our Easyjet flight was at the smaller terminal and, to our amazement, once we cleared all the formalities, we had to board a shuttle bus and get to the main terminal from where our flight took off! I still can’t understand why we could not be cleared at the main terminal itself! So, in the end, it was a horrid end to our wonderful travels in Israel, but these glitches occur and we made it with time to spare at our departure gate and arrived safely in Paris at the start of our next adventure.

In fact, (I know Ian will find this hard to believe), but as luck would have it, we were touching down at Charles de Gaule airport at exactly 6.00 pm when the glittering, twinkling lights on the Eiffel Tower are switched on to hail each hour. They remain in that twinkling state for about 5 minutes—and that was the welcome we received as we spotted the Place d’Etoile on our touch down.

Conclusion:                                              

Going to Israel truly is a life-changing trip. Both Llew and I were so glad that we finally ticked that item off his Bucket List and that we did so in such a thorough manner, in such great company and with so much enjoyment. Our guide Moti was very knowledgeable and most obliging. Being on a private tour meant that we could add items in a spontaneous fashion to our itinerary. We saw and did so much that I am still processing it all. Writing this travelogue allowed me to relive many happy moments with much vividness…but I know that it will be years before I fully distill all the experiences we encountered in this profoundly complicated land.

Thanks for making the time to read this travelogue and to armchair-travel with us. Please do note that the opinions expressed are entirely my own and you might not necessarily be in agreement with me. But this is what I saw and what I experienced and it is one person’s impression of a decidedly complex trip.