Returning to the Beginning: Another Five Nights in Paris

 “We must not cease from exploration. And the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we began and to know the place for the first time.” ~ T. S. Eliot

When we walked out of Gare Montparnasse for our returned Paris in July we were immediately reminded of our visit in December. It was not just the lovely familiar buildings, it was the people heavily muffled with scarves and wearing winter coats. In fact it was much wetter in July than it had been in December, but this did not put a dampener on our enthusiasm.

We returned to the same apartment in Saint Germain des Pres we liked so much at Christmas and took time to review our plans for our four days. It was lovely to be able to take this visit very easily as we had already ticked of most of our “to do list” in December.

It looked like the weather was going to be unreliable and so we just got up early the next morning and head for the Eiffel Tower. Arriving fifteen minutes before opening time we were at the very top thirty minutes later. It was a cold blustery day and so we spent most of our time on the Champ du Mars side of the Tower as the Trocadero side was very windy.

Up at the top level we set Emma the task of finding where is the world’s tallest building, using a comparison table shown around the walls above the windows. She took off on her mission and found it was definitely not in Australia, though the Q1 building on the Gold Coast is about the same height as the Eiffel Tower. It was in fact in Dubai and she was very pleased with herself for finding it.

As a reward we head down in the lift to level 2 for hot chocolate, not what we expected in July but lovely never the less. We sat there and discussed our options as we had all day left to do as we pleased. I suggested the Musée d’Orsay, not expecting that anyone would agree but I was pleasantly surprised.

While worrying about the potential queue without having pre-booked tickets we jumped on the RER and where there in minutes. There were maybe twenty people in the queue but after waiting two minutes, already feeling pleased with our luck, a security guard came over and took our family and another with children out of the line and took us in through another door and we walked straight to the ticket seller.

I was feeling like a child in a lolly shop but I was also aware that while I could spend the day, experience has shown that the kids attention span wouldn’t last that long. So after a brief look in a few rooms of the lower gallery we took the escalator up to the Impressionists. I had taken a look at a Rick Steve’s Paris guide in our apartment and it explained very well to a non-artist like myself the technique used by the Impressionists. I explained this to everyone as we rose up the escalator and it was fun to watch them looking really closely at the little dabs of paint and then moving well back for a different perspective. Other people probably thought we were crazy.

Luckily at one end of the gallery is a café, so having seen one half, and Julian was starting to act like he had ants in his pants, we had a nice lunch and were able to see the second half in relative peace. After this we head for the Van Gogh and Gauguin rooms and while we all really enjoyed the Van Gough we decided that the post impressionists were not our cup of tea.

When it was time to leave the kids wanted to have a look around the gift shop. I was surprised and delighted that they both choose to use some of their holiday money to buy some prints of their favourite paintings to put in their rooms. Julian chose Bonnard’s Le Chat blanc and Van Gogh “La Chambre de van Gogh a Arles while Emma chose Degas’s Groupe de danseuses vers 1884-1885.

We then head home for a relaxed afternoon, the kids returned to playing the same game they were playing in this apartment six months earlier and I got to catch up my blog a little (Carcassone and the Dordogne if memory serves me), taking advantage of superfast internet for the first time in weeks.

 All year every time someone mentions Paris the kids have always talked excitedly about the Jardin de Luxembourg and so Rob decided to spend the day morning there with the kids while I had some mum time planned. So I packed up my yoga mat gave the family a kiss goodbye and hopped on the metro over to Gard de Est and after a short walk, with a little help from a local, I found the Shivananda Yoga Centre. Regardless of the fact that the class was all in French the routine is the same and was easy to follow. Mind you I had to stop myself from giggling during the meditation as I had no idea what was being said so I gave up and just relaxed which was absolutely wonderful. As was the delicious vegetarian meal I shared with the others after the class.

It was almost like attending a silent retreat, I spoke to no one and no spoke to me and it was perfectly peaceful. And so feeling completely contented and intent on retaining this feeling as long as possible when I arrived back at Blvd St Germaine and spied Café Louise just around the corner from home I thought it was fate calling and who was I to argue. And so I enjoyed peppermint tea and a delicious crème brulee without having to share and enjoyed just sitting for some time. When I arrived back the kids didn’t recognise their blissed out mother. Now that’s what I call a holiday.

 The following day we had plans to meet our good friend who lives just outside Paris, for a magnificent home cooked meal (you may remember she cooked us an amazing Polish Christmas dinner last year) and a sleep over. We had all morning free first so we decided to attend the International Mass at Notre Dame and then visit the antiques market, Les Puces de Saint-Ouen Market.

On the way to Notre Dame we stopped for a light breakfast at Café Deux Magot, sitting inside to avoid the torrential rain. Sitting in this famed meeting place of early 20^th century writers, hoping that perhaps some literary inspiration might rub off, we enjoyed our baguettes and croissants. We loved out visit to Angelina’s for breakfast in December and learning from that we ordered two petite de jeuner to share that was more than enough. Forgetting from previous experience just how rich hot chocolate in Parisian cafes can be Emma and I struggled with our jug of chocolate that was as thick as mud.

The service at Notre Dame was a real experience, we lined up for some time not knowing that you don’t need to so we got in with ten minuted to spare luckily. The international service is still all in French, except for a couple of lines in English during communion, but we were given a handout that had the readings in English.

So all in all we had no idea what was going on but the music was divine and this really is the way to visit a cathedral, even for a non-catholic, as you feel connected to place and the people who have worshipped here for over 800 years.

Emma wanted to go up for a blessing during communion, as she does with her grandpa when she visits him in Busselton (south west of Western Australia), and she was adamant that she would go by herself. Julian was too busy colouring in his order of service sheet to go with her.

Ever since our visit to Notre Dame Julian has measured time against the length of the service “how long are we on the train today mum?” ”Two lots of church honey”. But he was very good and I think he enjoyed it, but when we joined the throngs walking around to look at the cathedral afterwards he was ready to go.

In retrospect I wish we had stayed and climbed the towers but instead we went to the antiques market at Porte de Clignancourt and this proved to be a mistake. Emma does not like crowds (the metro is another place she does not like) and as soon as we left the metro station we were surrounded by people hawking mobile phones and perfumes and on the way to the antiques there is stall after stall of new clothes and rubbish we are just not interested in looking at and so it proved for us to be a mistake. I have visited before many years ago and have memories of picking up wonderful things, like roman coins, you could never find easily back home, but there was nothing like to be found, at least before the kids had quite enough.

And so we headed off for a visit to our friend, taking the bus as Emma had quite enough of crowds for one day. We had a fabulous dinner and once the kids were in bed we sat up talking until the early hours of the morning which was a delight.

When we woke up the next morning it was Bastille Day and due to our late night we were much slower and less enthusiastic about an early start. We had been planning to visit Versailles for a picnic on Bastille Day since I read about it somewhere some time ago. We were aware that we were missing a big parade in Paris but dressing in white and relaxing by the Grand Canal, with music and food stalls advertised sounded wonderful.

It was a wonderful day but we never found the music or the food stalls and so we were very lucky we brought our own. Hardly anyone was dressed in white, and we have been carrying these white clothes with us all year in anticipation of this day, but it did not matter it was a special day with a special friend.

It was also a perfect final farewell to Paris as we were off the next morning to the Black Forest to relax for six days on a farm. Paris will always hold a special place in all of our hearts and I don’t think it is possible to spend too much time there. As Audrey Hepburn once said "Paris is always a good idea".