The Enchanting Streets and Museums of Paris
 When I bought a winter ticket from New York to London for under $300 with Virgin Atlantic, I didn't care if they put me on the roof or in the cargo hold, I was so thrilled with the price. We were fed hot food, offered Bailey's or brandy after our main dish, given the best tea I have ever tasted on an airline. Not surprisingly, for our family vacation we also took Virgin Atlantic. The landing in London was so smooth that if I hadn't been watching, I probably would have thought that we were still flying. We then connected to Paris via British Airways. However, this time the landing seemed to have been done by an armless man.
We stayed in the suburbs of Paris and went downtown and around via the RER train, which conveniently meets up with the downtown Metro, or subway system. We got out at Charles-de-Gaulle because one of its exits is at the Arc de Triomphe by the Champs-Elysees, the famous boulevard.
The Place de la Concorde was immediately on our left as soon as we were past the Petit Palais and the Grand Palais, which are museums on the right side of the Champs-Elysees. There is nowhere to cross to Les Tuileries, which are the gardens in front of the Louvre Museum, and since it is a huge multi-lane traffic junction, you take your life into your hands. We did what all of the tourists and locals alike were doing: cross the street at the slightest lull in traffic. And those lulls are slight, few, and far between. We waited and waited, then made a run for it to a little painted triangle, with cars racing towards us and honking. Then, after a deep collective breath, we ran together to safety on the other side, in front of the gates to Les Tuileries.
The Rodin Museum, was on the opposite bank, the left bank, so we crossed one of the many beautiful bridges, this one being the Pont de la Concorde; there was an old man leaning over the railing with a paint palette and brushes sticking out of his pockets painting the view from the bridge. On the other side of the bridge was the Assemblee Nationale parliamentary buildings. Before us was a spectacular photo opportunity, the view across the Pont Alexandre III with its golden statues, toward the two glass roof and yellow stone palaces we had passed.
Within all the government buildings and in the shadow of scaffolding we found a jolly little diner. When we walked in, the tiny diner was packed, so we made our way towards the cellar seating area. Then the waitress barked, "Where are you going?" We replied that we wanted lunch and the main section was full. Reluctantly she agreed and we descended to the basement as a Spaniel with a lazy eye barked at us. We had that section all to ourselves and it was like being in a time capsule from 1974. The decor was browns and oranges, and the wood looked like it was plastic. The advertisements pasted to the mirror were yellowed. This was no four-star restaurant, but it was very comfortable. I ordered a bowl of spaghetti with red sauce, and it was divine. Even cheap cuisine is delicious in Paris. The tomatoes were fresh, and there was red wine enhancing the flavor.
We now ventured on to the Boulevard des Invalides and further to the Rue de Varenne which is where the Rodin Museum, also known as the Hotel Biron, is situated. It is directly opposite the gold dome of the chapel in the Hotel National des Invalides.
The Musee Rodin was bought by the French Government within Rodin's lifetime, but it was also once his residence. It is a yellow stone house, two stories, quite grand, and it is thoroughly stuffed with Rodin's works. There is one room dedicated to the work of one of his pupils, a woman called Camille Claudel.
One thing I learned while wondering over the hardwood floors (which squeaked louder than excited tourists) into each and every room is that Rodin was amazingly versatile. Sculptors tend to specialize in one material, but Rodin works in terra cotta, bronze, and marble, all of which require disparate techniques, and all of which are executed gorgeously and in a diverse range of sizes. There are portrait busts, stories from mythology, and sexually provocative works of anonymous lovers, such as the Kiss. The museum was crowded and the gift shop left little to be desired, but for pure quality of the artwork, the Rodin Museum is an essential Paris stop.
The Palais Garnier is the Paris Opera House, which was built in the second half of the nineteenth century. Due to renovation the outside is currently most unappealing, however the opulence of the interior cannot be described sufficiently -- it must be seen. There is a grand marble staircase with elaborate relief patterns, murals on the ceiling, archways and columns, as well as luxurious sculptures and chandeliers dripping with crystal. The red velvet theater itself has the chandelier made famous by the story of the Phantom of the Opera which hangs from a Marc Chagall mural. The Opera House is not a very long stop in the sightseeing of Paris, but it is a treat to behold.
Before entering Musee national Gustave Moreau I imagined a house was stuffed with splendid mythical paintings as the Rodin Museum was stuffed with Rodin works of art. I was sorely disappointed. I was faced with a house full of canvasses covered in sketches instead of in paint. Surprisingly, the exhibition in New York had better and more impressive works of art.
We spent one day outside Paris in a small town called Triel-Sur-Seine. We did so to visit a restaurant called Coq au Vin (a famous French dish of chicken cooked in a red wine sauce). The weather was perfect, so we sat outside under a yellow and white striped awning with a cool breeze coming off the Seine, which was a few hundred feet from me. I ordered a simple chicken dish, not the main dish, but I tasted the coq au vin. My dish was delicious in its simplicity, but the coq au vin was actually not that tasty; I would certainly not name my restaurant after a dish that was far from being the best.
While we were still having our dessert a party in the restaurant began. The macarena song blasted through the open windows, and my mother and I leapt up. Here on a sunny summer's day in a small town near Paris, my mother and I were dancing the macarena.
The following day we headed for Le Parc Monceau, a small green dot on the map between Montmartre and the Champs-Elysees, the park was an absolute gem. The surrounding apartment buildings had the sloping slate roofs associated with Paris matched with the faded yellow stone. The gardens within the park were delicately manicured, the trees were mature, and there was sculpture hiding within the greenery. While walking down the main pathway of the park, we could see the Arc de Triomphe in the distance. It was one of the most peaceful walks to be had in the center of Paris. It was a perfect end to a perfect trip.
By Jenny Moussa
Would you like to comment on this article or send it to a friend? You can do either one just below where you see:
Submit Comments on this Article: or
Mail this article to a friend?
If you want to read more articles from this author just enter their last name in the "Site Search" box (located at top right of this screen) and press your "enter" key.
|
|
