Landed in Nice around 11:30, rented a Peugeot 6 speed desiel - nice car; took a little while to get used to the GPS and even longer to find reverse, but we made our way to the Hotel Imperial, where we always stay in Nice. Originally built as a palace for a Russian Prince - no swimming pool, or health club, but 12 foot ceilings, marble fire places, stained glass everywhere.
Madame gave us the same room as we had last year # 17
The food on Delta is truly terrible, so we took a meandering walk down to thte port to find some lunch. Passed some street sweepers; in France the traditional street sweepers still wear green, and sweep out the gutters by using brooms of tied branches. I stopped to take a picture of one of the brooms, one of the men (a group of 4) asked if I was looking for a job,
Turns out most restaurants in France still close on Mondays, and the few that are open tend to close between lunch and dinner, the result is if you haven’t eaten by 2 o’clock you probably have to wait for dinner (really depressing).
Stopped at a cafe to catch our breaths and have a drink (no food) but the price was great - Joan had a glass of Chardony and I had a pastis (like a greek Ouzo, pastis is the common drink in southern France - think Pernod but not sweet and very strong) - total for both was 7 euros.
Finally made our way to the port, which was dug out by prisoners from the local prison (where Papillon was locked up). The port is separated from the public beaches (the French Riviera) by a narrow finger of stone cliff. Mostly sheer rock on the port side, the beach facing side is lush (even a small waterfall that I suspect is manmade) That side has a few mansions, one belonging to Sir Elton John.
I took 7 photos surrounding the port and tried to glue them together, a bit imperfectly:
Looking north from where we are sitting at our cafe
looking towards the west and the cliffs
The cafe that we finally found was quite nice, run by an older (but not old) couple, she danced around singing Edith Piaf songs while serving; and they were serving food! After about an hour a woman came in and servered a couple of tables, and when she spoke to Joan I heard her accent and asked, “are you from New York?” She laughed and said yeah Dutches county, and you. We told her Long Island and she sat down and we talked a bit. She spends spring and Autumn in Nice, her sister-in-law is Sally Jessy Raphael; who owns 3 appartments in the building (and maybe the cafe also). We stayed there a few hours, ate till we were stuffed, and a half dozen drinks each trying to ignore the jet lag and beginning to lose the fight.
Home to the Prince’s palace, and some sleep.
Tuesday 29 September
Day 2
An inside stairwell at the Imperial
The plan today is to drive along the coast, and head into Monaco to check out the Casino. As it turned out it was a day of periods of panic and frustration (driving) interspersed with periods of civilized tranquility. There is a ton of traffic (like going to the Hamptons in the summer) the roads are very narrow, and street signs are not as present as would be desired. Our first stop was Villefranche-sur-Mer. Founded in the 1200’s as a customs-free port by Charles II it boasts one of the deepest harors in the world. Used by the English and American forces as a military base till 1966 when France withdrew from Nato’s integrated military command; it is primarily a fishing town with a 16th century stone Citadelle de St Elme.
Joan selected a table along the boardwalk and we enjoyed breakfast (cafe au laite for her, a pint of Baron 1664 for me) and lunch all rolled into one. She started with escargot ( in their shells) I started with something that translated as “small fried fish” out of curiosity. Imagine taking 100 killies, whole, heads on, eyeballs staring at nothing - and throwing them in a deep frier like french fries, served in a mound (like french fries) that was my appetizer - actually very good, but way too many for an appetizer. Her main course was a small thin crust pizza with olives and pinolis (pine nuts). I had a very creamy risotto with seared scallops, very good (and I helped her finish her pizza - also good). With a few glasses of local wine of course.
After a long liesurely lunch back to the horrors of driving down here. Finally crossed the border into the principality of Monaco - a tiny state that would fit into Central Park. Parked underground and walked along the boardwalk to the 2 casinos. One the more common, the other more upper class: outside were parked 2 Rolls Royces, a Massoroti and a black Ferrari that could have come out of a James Bond movie. Of course we went into the latter.
It was early afternoon and the place was fairy empty and quiet, 4 Asians playing blackjack, roulette tables were empty - so we opted to start with cocktails (no surprise there). Figured I would blow 20 euros on a slot machine just to say I gambled at the big casino in Monaco. Lost that in about 5 minutes, so another 20 on a poker machine - won 65 euro on that one; my 20 and 45 up. On a third machine I won 23 euro, my 20 plus 3. So I was up for the day, my winning paying for our drinks - I’ll take that. Joan asked for 5 euros to play a lucky 7s one arm bandit, her mother’s favorite slot machine. She was down to her last 2 cents, her last pull, got three 7s and a triple bonus wild card, she won 24 euro on her last 2 cents.
A slightly less harrowing drive back to Nice on a highway; then we walked to dinner a couple of blocks from our hotel - across from the museum: duck foie gras, steak, frites with a local Cotes de Provence Rosé
Madness and joy - so went our 2nd day.
30 September - Day 3
Time to move on, packed the luggage into the Peugeot and parked at Place Mesena for the morning, breakfast at a cafe and walked around the flower market. Called a flower market but actually much more: cut flowers, live miniature olive trees, arts and crafts, and food - everything from fresh rabbit to dry sausage to exotic mushrooms. Then we headed to the beaches, every couple hundred feet the beach changes name and is maintained by a different hotel; several maintain a bar/restaurant right on the beach, good place for a cocktail and to watch the water. Headed back to the car around 2 o’clock; time to leave the coast and head into the mountains.
Seillans is a small village, 1000 years old, on top of a mountain, this will be our third trip here. the hotel is named for the rock formation across the road. the town itself has this wierd thing about homeless cats - they seem to be everywhere: in alleys, on window sills, up atop rock formations.
We had dinner in the hotel’s dinng room - the previous chef was a real maestro truly on par with the great chefs of New York or Paris. Guess he has moved on, his replacement is capable, but not quite on the same level. Still it was a good dinner, afterwards we went for a stroll, caught one of the cats drinking out of the fountain.
01 October - day 4
We walked down to the town’s only cafe for breakfast, navigating a maze of cobble stone alleys, saw two people, and many cats.
She had 2 coffees and a croissant, I was on my 3rd beer and she decided we needed to get mobile and go exploring. We drove over the top of the mountain and down the other side.
Funny thing - on the top of the moutain, in a small clearing we saw a fishing boat for sale - we were thinking, um yeah we are only about a 100 miles from the coast - probably not going to be sold anytime soon.
Down the other side was a town we had never visited before: Bargemon. A very cool, very old church - unlocked as the 12 o’clock mass had ended not long ago. We went exploring, Joan lit a candle for Jossie, an old friend who died about a week ago, and we always look at the various saints: Ste Thersea for Karen, St Louis for Marylou, Ste Anne for Patty, Ste Jeanne dÁrc (Joan of Arc) is Joan’s (and Jeannette’s) patron saint; and she was there.
Around that time we started looking for lunch (I spend a very large part of my vacations finding good food and drink). There were 3 or 4 restaurants around the town square - they all seemed to be pushing pizza (seems like the southern half of France lives on pizza) but when we checked out the Tavern - whoa: truffle omelette, magaret de canard (duck breast), goat cheese salad (that’s what J had), pasta with cheese and spinach, and a Tiam (layers of eggplant and slices of roast lamb stacked like a tower, served with stuffed vegetables, plus leeks and shallots, roasted potatoes & roasted garlic cloves - (my lunch) excellent. I will go back to that town just to eat at that tavern. Back over the mountain very carefully (wine with lunch, and Calvados after - and the road is narrow and serpentine). We had planned on trying the only other restaurant in Seillans for dinner (we had never eatten there ‘cause Deux Rocs had had such an amazing chef, but no more). Another great find - frogs legs for an appetizer, sea bass with gnocci for a main course, and creme brûlée for dessert (and more Calvados). This was the best lunch/dinner day of the trip so far, but Lyon is yet to come (the culinary capitol of France).
02 October - day 5
Woke up to pouring rain; drove to the cafe for coffee and a beer. One of the men mentioned that if we took our route through the higher alps (like last year) we may hit snow; I wasn’t ready for that so we stayed in the foot hills heading for the thruway. A large town, Salon-de-Provence for lunch, a bank, and a pharmacy, and back on the road.
Took a bridge across the Rhone, and spent the night in a small town Saint Peray; we walked around checking out our dinner options, kinda bleak: 3 or 4 pizza places, 2 bars (no food although we did stop for a drink and saw some great copies of Henri Toulouse-Lautrec posters by one of the locals). Turns out the only real restaurant in town was in our hotel, and some nice options but by then we were getting tired, had a couple of night-caps and went up to our room. Probably the coolest thing about the town was an old medieval town (completely in ruins) on the cliffs above.
03 October - day 6
Still pouring rain, oh well:
“Rainy day, dream away, let the sun take a holiday …
… still raining, still dreaming” - Jimi Hendrix
Drove north along the river till we got to Lyon a large city where the Rhone river meets the Saone river. Julius Ceasar had his base of operations here, and it has been a center of commerce and culture ever since, known as the culinary capital of France and the heart of the Burgandy wine region.
We were hoping to find a great restaurant in a cool part of the city … try to imagine being a European tourist driving from D.C. to Boston passing through Manhattan and hoping to find a great restaurant in a cool part of the city - yeah good luck with that. We drove around for an hour looking at street names trying to figure out where we were, it was after 1 and if we didn’t stop soon there would be no lunch (and we hadn’t had dinner the night before). I parked at an underground lot at random, and went to the nearest upscale place we found. Michelin rated, nice lunch: she had an award winning rabbit and duck foie gras, I had squid stuffed with shrimp and herbs, a bottle of Brouilly, dessert and coffee. The Maitre d’ bought me a Calvados and told me to drive carefully.
All afternoon we drove through vineyards, the mountains were tiered and planted with vines as far as the eye could see. Passing through the Beaujolais region we saw all the big varietals - Juliénas, Morgon, Moulin-á- Vent. We stopped at an inn between vineyards for a couple glasses; she was drinking St Veran, I had St Amour. The owner had some peculiar vehicles: a pair of bicycles fitted with small 2-cylinder engines, 2 gypsy caravans, and a half dozen old Citreons probably for taking tourists around during the season.
We continued driving north towards Macon and a bit beyond to the tiny village of Bissy-sous-Uxelles.
Last year we got lost around here and as it was getting dark, we saw a sign for a goat farm that let rooms, sort of a B&B. Very beautiful, the wife spoke english, the husband not a word. It was such a great find it made an impression on Joan and she sent them a card last Christmas. Guess they remembered us, this year the gave us the presidential suite - well more of an apartment but real special, leather arm chairs, inlaid oak furniture, small kitchen area, open beam ceilings. The original farm was built in the 12th century, it was added on to in the 15th, and then again in the early 1700’s. We are in the “new” wing, over our door says 1703.
In addition to the goats they keep doves, and the court yard is an explosion of flowers.
Bissy-sous-Uxelles is a small village, maybe 4 blocks, less than 100 residents, no stores or restaurants. We headed to the next town over for dinner, Chapaize is even smaller, the entire town is one block long. One phone both (yeah for real), a creperie, an art boutique and a restaurant (maybe 2 we aren’t sure). The restaurant doesn’t open until 7:30 and is first class all the way. A small seasonal menu, some unusaul or strange preparations but extremly well done by the chef (a woman in a what is traditionally in France a man’s occupation). I started with a savory creme brûlée - normally that is a dessert but she folds shredded zuchini and tomatoes and herbs into the custard, very good. A steak of veal liver with a raspberry reduction, fresh warm figs atop a pastry tart, and a local brandy - excellent!
04 October - day 7
Breakfast includes a vaiety of goat cheeses of course, homemade breads, rhubarb preserves, coffee, etc - the cheeses and bread are all I have.
We had planned to stay just the one night and continue north but seeing as how the rain has finally stopped we are going to stay another night - spend the day drinking some of the best wines in the world, right where they are made - vineyard hopping is the order of the day.
Drove around the surrounding farms, mostly the white cows that are raised for beef, off the track for vineyards. Stopped in some small village when I saw a grocery store, picked up some supplies, and headed a little south - first CLUNY and then back to Juliénas to buy some wine. CLUNY was the site of a papal palace back in the day - the palace was built from about 1090 to about 1120, there are a few remnants of some Roman ruins, the palace itself was rebuit and is now a modern museum adjoining the church.
Sunday afternoon out in the country - everything closed, everyone home having family dinners. Found a cave that was open and got 3 top shelf Beaujolais (2 Juliénas, and a Fleurie; about 7 euros each, a steal). We decided to spend the remainder of the day quietly back at the goat farm, we had a small dinner in our apartment (linguini and zucchini while listening to Yves Montand) then we watched Woody Allen’s “Midnight in Paris” - we needed a quiet night to recharge.
05 October - day 8
Joan had asked Dominique if she could watch the goats being milked, she has always dreamed of having a goat farm; so he ivited us into the barn after breakfast.
The sun was still out as we headed for Dijon, Lyon seemed to me to be a smaller version of Paris, but Dijon, the ancient seat of power of the Ducs de Burgundy, surrounded by fields of yellow mustard plants, has an older quaint feel.
Many of the buildings were the old half timber style, and some had the mosaic colored tile roofs.
Found a cafe for lunch, J had a casserole of ham, potatoes, onions, cream, and cheese; I had escargot, and a Boudin Noir, blood pudding, made with pork blood, clarified fat, and spices … Joan has given up eatting escargot in France, the last time she ordered it (back in Nice) she said she could see their eyes and antenna (I say - so what!). During lunch the rain came back.
We didn’t get to go into the Palace of the Dukes - not open to visitors on Mondays so we headed north looking for the town where Chocolat was filmed. Got kinda lost and ended up about 100 kilometers east of where we thought we were. Still raining and getting dark we began looking for a place to spend the night. Most of the hotels seemed to be closed as the tourist season ends with the summer. Got to a town Villegusien-le-Lac, the hotel/restaurant was open so we hit the bar to check it out. Half dozen locals drinking beer and cafe, greeted us like they knew us. 10 minutes later a guy walks in, goes from bar stool to bar stool and shook hands with everyone - got to me, puts out his hand and says Bon Jour Monsieur - I shook his hand and replied in like. 15 minutes later another guy walks in - same thing. Needless to say we stayed the night. Joan had a small tart on a bed of mushrooms; I had the full dinner, a cold ratatouille, followed by pork loin with morels (I love morels) which came with a tiny hollowed out pumpkin stuffed with a ham hash, and a side of potato gratin. Dessert was an apple tarte and a snifter of Calvados. Pretty good for a little town in the middle of nowhere. Back in our room, we heard a horse coming down the street - Joan looks out the window, the local cop, riding horseback out in the rain, on patrol - cool.
06 October - day 9
Still raining, going to head west to Flavigny-Sur-Ozerain (where Chocolat was filmed) - maybe better luck today.
Lots of open fields, with occasional stands of trees, other times we drives through miles of forest. At one point a deer, almost black in color, not like our deer, jumped out across the road in front of me. Scared the crap out of me, don’t want to wipe out the rental, especiaally out in the middle of nowhere.
Four or five times we passed through medieval towns still populated by people, I have no idea what they do there, no stores or businesses; just old, old stone houses with smoke rising from the chimneys.
Every once in a while we would see a blue hole in the clouds, a bit of hope that the clouds would clear, alas a hope never realized.
Shortly passed noon we were closing in, we saw the town atop the next hill.
In many ways a typical medieval town, larger than most, we walked through the drizzle looking for a place to stay. Tried a few Gité (a B&B) and a couple small hotels - all closed up at the end of summer. So okay, maybe a little lunch and a bottle of wine and we’ll keep looking. The only place open for lunch was next to the church (yeah, the church from the movie).
The place was a huge one room stone building owned by a local farm, all the food farm fresh, and in addition to serving lunch they sold honey, preserves, local wine - but it kind of had the feel of a tourist trap. Everyone seemed to be Brits, or Germans, or Swiss; the food was along the line of quiches and omelettes, not what I had in mind. I decided to have a liquid lunch but that didn’t go over well with Joan. To keep the peace I gave in and ordered some rillette - slow cooked pork, shredded and eatten by smearing it on crusty bread. I was probably the only one in the place eatting meat and the cat quickly became our best friend.
When we were ready to leave the cat woulnd’t get off Joan’s lap, that was kind of funny.
We were in the center of the town, according to the map of the town there were still a couple of B&Bs around the edge of the town, but we figured if the ones in the center were all closed up the outer ones would probably be closed up as well.
Wlking back towards the car we passed a house, the door open, and next to the door a sign that said “Chambres” so walked in and an elderly woman looked at me. I asked (my French is good enough for some things) Avez-vous une chambre pour une nuit? Turns out she wasn’t expecting any tourist to be staying over night this time of year but she could fix up a room for us if we come back at 6 o’clock - cash only!
Cool, so now we had a few hours to kill. We did find the place where they filmed the chocolate shop. It was deserted, empty and full of cob-webs. Kind of a shame, with so many tourists coming here just because of the movie they should open a real choclolate shop here.
The inside of the church was pretty but we were barred from walking around and checking out the saints. In an alcove outside above right of the door was St Louis - Louis IX, King of France; and very colorful flowers around the front (all this rain is good for something).
We needed to kill a few hours so we drove around; found another statue of Jeanne DÁrc
a few towns away, across from a train station we finally found a luncheonette where we could get a drink - by then it was time to head back and get our room. The room was nicer than I expected, she handed us the keys to the house, said she was going out with some friends. Never asked my name, or the plate number of the car - just handed us the keys and said lock up when you leave.
Dinner was another strange occurrence - there are just 2 restaurants open in town in the autumn. The really nice fancy one was closed up and dark, closed on Tuesdays (figures) so we walked through the rain to the other. It was also closed and dark - not good. But I saw a man cooking in the kitchen, we were thinking if he is cooking why isn’t he open? I got his attention through the window and we talked, he asked if I was American? He said no restaurants in town were open on Tuesdays but he was thinking of opening just to be different. He had spent some of his youth in Indo-China (Vietnam, Laos, Cambodia) and he was making homemade spring rolls for the restaurant. He invited us in and made dinner just for us with a bottle of local wine - 50 euros, amazing.
The rain had stopped again (temporarily at least) and we had a slow walk back to our room.
07 October - day 9
Had breakfast with madame, she is very nice, and not as old as I had thought (who am I to talk, I turn 62 in a few weeks). She adopts dogs from an animal protection society, got a 2nd one yesterday. So now we are packing, getting ready to continue our sojourn. Put the luggage into the car, since it wasn’t raining we took a stroll around town.
Many of the oldest houses had boot scrappers outside the door. When the men came in from the fields they would scrape the bottoms of their boots on a metal post so they wouldn’t track mud inside. The updated models were in the shapes of cats.
The town abbey is about 2000 years old, we took a walk through the crypts.
Then on to Auxerre, the 4th largest city in Burgundy; located on the Yonne river, and famous for its Chablis wine. The river is full of touring barges and house boats, the local St Nicholas is the patron saint of boatmen. I counted 3 large Cathedrals.
After a lite lunch: lobster terrine, smoked salmon, andouiette (a coarse sausage made from pig stomach linings and large intestines), and 2 carafes of wine, both local, a chablis and a Cote d’ Beaune - we followed a walking tour to the Cathedral of St Etienne (Saint Stephan) .
Lots of gargoyles, some beasts, some men, and some both.
Jeanne DÁrc stopped here twice, praying for guidance, there is a statue of her praying, and a great stained glass window
Many of the carved figures are now headless, a result of the religious wars when the protestants fought against the Roman church, much in the same way that the statues of the nobility (and the nobles themselves) were decapitated during the french revolution two centuries later.
Auxerre seemed like a nice place to stop for the night, alas there was some big convention of sorts in town until 19 October, which meant parking fees were waived (free parking is good) but there were no hotel rooms to be had (which is bad).
So we followed the Yonne river north to the town of Joigny and found a luxurious hotel aptly named Rive Gauche. Dinner in the hotel restaurant and time to crash.
Yonne river - Joigny
08 October - day 10
After coffee (for her, beer for me) in a small cafe out of town we continued north to Sens. Another Cathedral St Etienne (Saint Stephen seems very popular in these parts). This cathedral is reputed to be the first of the great french cathedrals, King Louis IX (Saint Louis) was married here, and Thomas Becket spent some of his exile as the Arch Bishop of Cantebury here. And yet another statue of Joan.
The cathedral is reknown for its stained glass windows dating back a thousand years
Then on the road again heading to Versailles. The chateau is huge, the palace is a single building larger than many of the villages we drove through and the gardens bigger than many towns. We had no intention of visiting the palace today, we have been there many times before and our plan was to have lunch at the boat house at the larger of the canals in the garden tomorrow. Just as well since the palace grounds were closed to the public today due to a strike. Hopefully we will visit tomorrow.
The central section of the palace, the Chateau Versailles
The Royal apartment
Louis XIV
09 October - day 11
Awoke to bright sunshine (a very nice change), but after a breakfast of croissant, cheese, coffee, and Calvados a walk to the palace verified that the strike was still in force - there will be no lunch at the boat house on the grand canal in the gardens today.
Decided to drop off the rental car at the airport and head into Paris early. Frederick had our room ready and waiting at the Hotel de Saint Andres des Arts - the old musketeer barracks where we always stay when in Paris. Relieved of our luggage we headed back to Place St Michel where we spent the afternoon drinking wine, eating a cheese platter and watching the crowds - the best way to relax in Paris. Now if I can only wake Joan up from her siesta we might enjoy a good dinner.
Place de St Michel,
looking down rue st Andre des Arts
10 October - day 12
Well I failed my first mission of the day - we had breakfast st the hotel (bread and coffee, I had some goat cheese I had saved from our travels) then we set out on foot. She asked me to take a photo of a picture on the wall of a particular cafe we had visited last year. We were sitting outside - normal for Paris on a nice morning - I went inside and photographed both the pictures that I saw - neither was the one she wanted -bad start …
we walked to small Greek church - a very old tree outside planted in 1604 (not old for a parisian church, but old for a living tree) - inside she lit a candle.
Across the street was the queen of all french cathedrals - Notre Dame de Paris
We crossed the river and walked (seemed like miles) till we reached the newly opened Picasso museum - actually a year old, it opened 3 days after we left Paris last year. In Paris the elderly are given some perks - they never wait in lines and always are ushered to the front of any line - we experienced this last year, … at the Picasso Museum it was even better, handicapped got in for free, and Joan was using a cane (and I was her escort) that saved us 25 euro!
The exhibit was good, covering most of the periods of his life. Almost everyone was taking pictures with their phones but I figure seeing them live is great, but you can probably see photos in books and on the web better than I am going to take. However the house (now a museum) itself was very cool.
then we headed for the market square of Saint Catherine. Years ago we went there for lunch on one or two of our trips, there was one cafe, and when it wasn’t market day the place was deserted, we would have a quiet lunch and drink pitchers of Brouilly wine. Now there are 6 cafes and the place is mobbed. Oh, well. We had a lunch and started back towards the river and the left bank. Stopped at a church - St Paul & St Louis (a double header) the organist was practicing which was cool, and yet another statue of Joan
We crossed a few bridges traversing behind Notre Dame,
Place St Michel
and the onto the left bank and made our way back to Place St Michel - as ever St Michael was slaying the dragon
We sat for a while (2 hours?) drinking wine and watching the crowds go by - and then headed home with a small detour to Bob Cool’s
Bob Cool is a bar opened in the 1980’s by an american turned Parisian. Last time we were there (8 or 9 years ago) it was a hang out for ex-pats; the kind of place Hemmingway would have hung out 90 years ago.
Turns out they closed for a while to renovate and the clientel moved on, when we got there there was only one woman drinking - a bit drunker than us I would say ...
Time moves on and all things change.
They only had one bottle of Calvados and I killed that, Joan stayed with Chardonay, and that was our 2nd night in Paris.
The plan for tomorrow is to hit the Marche aux Puce (the famous Paris flea market) - with a bit of luck, maybe some new (old) silverware; and then on to the Bois de Boulogne to see the Louis Vuitton Foundation Exhibition.
11 October - day 13
After breakfast we took the Metro north to the Marche aux Puce — strolled around for several hours, I bought 7 antique kitchen knives from 3 different vendors, and a small ceramic bowl that Joan wanted.
We stopped at a cafe for fortification and then headed on to the Bois de Bolonge.
Saved by the cane, once again - big time! get this -
The exhibition center of Louis Vuitton is an avant gard art and performance center - very cool building, all steel, wood beams, and glass. The billowing structure is intended to invoke sails of ships in the wind.
Well, like many places now, upon entering you need to go through metal detectors, and security. But Joan had her cane and they wisked her (and me) through the handicapped lane. They did look in her pocket book, and the bag I was carrying (a nice ceramic bowl I bought her at the flea market). No problem they said have a nice visit.
Well here I was with 7 very sharp antique knives (not to mention the swiss army knife I always carry) but the knives were all in my vest inside pocket, NOT in the bag with the ceramic bowl - and just because Joan was walking with a cane we were wisked through - so much for security - is it really any good or just a way to harass people and employ a bunch of dead-beats who can’t do anything constructive - what ever, if they knew what was in my pockets I would never have gotten in.
The building is amazing, and the Bois de Bolonge is Paris version of Central Park. A very huge forrest on the outskirts of the city, looking from the top of the center one way was modern skyscrapers and the other way was old Paris and the Eiffel tower.
The exhibits were a bit bizarre - there were a bunch of Andy Warhol self-portraits, one room that showed a looped film (about 3 minutes) of a man, completely naked except for ice-skates; skating on some frozen lake. Four floors of total weirdness. One cool thing, we came down down a staircase and the ceiling was full of these black balloons, oblong and with pointy tails - when we got down the title of the exhibit was “speech ballons” - think comic strips where the words are in an olblong wiith a tail .. maybe you had to be there - but it made us both chuckle.
So all of our 4 hit list for two days (Picasso, the market at St Catherine, the flea market, and the Louis Vuitton Foundation) were completed, we took a cab back to Place St Michel - our last evening in Paris (for this year anyway) completed. Ordered a dozen oysters and a carafe of Pouilly Fumé - the perfect wine to acompany oysters and relaxed in the plaza before going off to this years last dinner -
Dinner was very nice, J had confit de canard (a cured duck leg - which I got to finish ‘cause she was already crashing), I started with a plate full of homade ravioli - smaller than postage stamps -tiny little things in an amazing creme sauce; followed by 7 hour lamb - very slow cooked and very tender - reputed to be a favorite of Van Gogh’s, and anyone else with taste buds I would think. Dessert was a creme bruleé - almost all restaurants these days will sprinkle sugar on top and hit it with a blow tourch to make a crust - but here they pour a clear brandy on top of the sugar and flambé it - so the flame from the burning brandy melts the sugar and makes a crust (nice touch, that) - and of course a Calvados (or 2) and coffee … so ends our last night
Tomorrow back to NY and the real world - I will be glad to see my cats, and my bong, but I will miss France very much for another year.
Au Revoir