Back Home part 1
Not sure why we waited so long, it was so wonderful!
Here's a challenging clue to the first place we went. This is a place we went to on our first day in this city.
OK, I know, that isn't the easiest clue, unless one has been to that particular place and definitely to that city. Here's a much easier one:
Got it yet? Dead give away ahead:
Yup.Paris.
It was totally wonderful, the only bad being that we only had 4 days there and on the first we were madly jetlagged.
That first picture was from the first place we went (after some pleasurable wandering on the Ile de la Cite and environs, and a delicious lunch at a cafe) (including some very necessary and stunningly yummy cafe noir, AKA espresso.). I got side tracked again, do you find me as confusing as I find me?
As I was saying, that first photo is from Marmottan, a museum largely devoted to Claude Monet. It is not all that well known, but is a great place for devotees. Actually, I didn't go to the Musee d'Orsay at all (mostly because my dh was approaching museum overload on the third day) which also has a ton of Monet. The Musee Marmottan Monet has a lot of Monet's later works, many of which I had never seen, and which are stunningly dramatic. One of them lives hauntingly in my memory and I hope to find a print of it one of these days. My husband, surprisingly, thought that toting a huge print around Europe for a week was a bad idea.
The second image is of the Seine.
The third, well, I hope most of us recognize the Tour d'Eiffel. Here is a view of Montmartre from the second level of the tower.
I am going to confess that we stood in an appallingly long line, walked up the stairs to the second level (OK, so we half ran, once we got ahead of some of the people in front of us) and just couldn't face any more lines to wait for the elevator to the top.
Actually, the top closed prematurely anyway, so we couldn't have gone up after all. Not surprisingly, there was no info as to why it closed (no it was not windy or raining; it was sunny, clear and a bit hot. People were swimming in the fountains of Trocadero). There was also no info as to when the top might reopen. So we blew it off. The views from the second level were wonderful anyway. (For those unfamiliar, the only way from Level 2 to teh top is by elevator. You can also go by elevator from the bottom to level 2, but we thought that choice unsporting).
When I tell you that we got off the airplane, stumbled around getting ourselves onto the RER train, checked into our hotel and headed out the door to sightsee... and that we hit the Eiffel Tower at about 2pm, perhaps you'll understand our lack of enthusiasm for the incredible crowds (and truly, this being a Saturday, and Paris swamped with tourists, it was a mob scene). So, instead, back to the Metro, which I find very well run and useful in Paris, and back to the Ile de la Cite-- the larger island in the Seine, where Notre Dame, and other things, are located.
For the first time in years, I actually had blisters. From some of my most comfortable walking shoes. And what I want to know is, how do those amazing Parisian women walk around all day in the gorgeous stiletto heels and squishy-pointy-fronted shoes?
Maybe they don't do the miles my feet did that first day, between the US airport, swelling and so on during the flight, and walking miles in Paris. Whatever. My feet were unhappy with me, and when we got to Notre Dame, and saw the crowds waiting to go in, I just couldn't stand it. There was a music concert that night as well, that I wanted to hear, as the acoustics in that cathedral are out of this world. But I just couldn't go on standing in lines.
My brilliant husband recognized an underlying problem: hunger.
So we walked (oh the agony of that word) behind Notre Dame (personally I prefer the rear and side facades to the front one) and over to the Ile de St. Louis (smaller island to the east of Cite) to a restaurant recommended by friends. (Here is Notre Dame from the rear.)
First off, we love that little Ile de St. Louis, totally charming and much quieter. Second of all, my attitude climbed back into the stratosphere after that meal.
The French take their food very seriously, and I have to say that I see eye to eye with them on that. We had a lovely meal; not fancy-- just lovely. Food presented in a way that showed they took pride in their food, and in their ability to give the patrons pleasure for a few hours. And oh boy did those scallops, bavette, salads and various desserts (I can't even think of it all without drooling) and that lovely wine give us pleasure!
I was a new woman. Who stumbled back to the room (I did still have a doozy of a blister and no bandaid with me; note to self: remember next time to tote bandaids in your purse, right by your passport)... and crashed with her feet up in the air.
Now, this is a knitting blog and I want to point out this is the first paragraph that includes the word knit. Right. Because when you are sashaying all over Paris (wearing, by the way, when not in the sun, a light lace shawl finished the year before) you really don't need to be knitting.
Yes, I knit on the airplane, but mostly I tried to sleep (I know, wimp that I am). The big comment I have on this trip, and knitting, is that one needs to think very carefully about a knitting project to bring on a trip. I brought my Shetland shawl. Now, it's rather demanding of focus at the moment and I'll tell you, I made a mistake. Brain dead knitting I could and would have picked up while my feet recovered (straight up in the air). But there was no way I was going to concentrate on my shawl.
Why did I bring it? Because I have Finish-that-blasted-thing-itis, that's why.
More tomorrow if I can fit it into my Get-Back-To-Normal-Fast day.
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