Paris 2, Blog 11

Paris 2, Blog 11

We woke up late to thunder, lightening, and a heavy downpour.  Since many sights are closed on Monday, we had to be creative.  We could have gone to the Louvre, but I’ve been there 3 times and because of the rain and the Monday closures, I figured it would be mobbed.  We headed out at the crack of 11:45, which was fine as it was good to have a lazy morning.

Two minutes from our hotel was San Suplice, a church featured in “The Da Vinci Code”  and known for its outstanding organ.  I was sorry we missed the free Sunday organ concert the previous day, but we were on the other side of Paris.  Outside antique dealers were sheltered under white tents in the rain.  Beautiful items but unaffordable.

  Nearby was the Cluny, (Musée National du Moyen Art) featuring an outstanding exhibit of medieval art, sculpture, and architecture. It contains the famous Lady with A Unicorn tapestries—a series of 5, which some critics feel represent the 4 senses with the fifth being a combination of all 4.  HOWEVER, the tapestries were being repaired or were on loan to Japan.  My French couldn’t quite figure it out.  Nevertheless, I was not disappointed.  In addition to rooms filled with all kinds of medieval wonders, there was a temporary exhibition entitled “Flanders” which consisted of exquisite reliquaries and medieval manuscripts.  I’m a sucker for old books and these were superb.  The focus was the evolution from the Romanesque to the Gothic in religious art and writing.  I’m usually not a big fan of religious artifacts (mainly due to the ostentation of the objects while the poor were suffering at the time,) but the sheer beauty overcame my prejudices. 

As always, I run out of adjectives when I travel:  fascinating, incredible, breathtaking, superb, unique, beautiful, astonishing, exquisite.  I’m open to new suggestions…..

Dan wanted to return to the Marais to see the Place Des Vosges.

On our way to the metro, we walked through colorful streets with stores selling affordable chotzke probably made in China.  I actually bought a tees shirt for about $21.  In San Francisco, it would have been $10 at the wharf. 

We visited the Holocaust Memorial and Museum, which was open and free.  It had an excellent movie on the history of

Anti-Semitism—no English subtitles.  I understood enough to follow it.  I think if the purpose of it is to educate it needs the English sub-titles because it is such an important message and for many people in the world, English is their second language.   Outside was a wall honoring all the righteous French gentiles who helped save the Jews:  75% survived!   Thank you, France! Like many Shoah museums, there were rooms with walls covered with photographs of children who didn’t survive.  One large dark room had an eternal flame in a circular pit.  Under the floor was soil from Israel with the ashes of unknown victims buried beneath.

All over the world are museums dedicated to the Holocaust.  Many of them contain exhibits to other genocides in different times and places.   I think Dan gets a little tired of visiting them with me, but it’s important.  The generation who survived is dying.  In their honor, we need to “remember, never forget, and bear witness.” I kept thinking of my trip to Lithuania last summer, where 90% of the Jews were killed.  If my grandparents hadn’t come to America  in the early part of the twentieth century, I would not have been born.  

The Marais was totally different from the previous day:  no line at the falafel stand, no crowds pushing past.  We were able to window shop.   Although there was wonderful Judaica for sale, I’m not paying $200 for a dreidle! (this is for Debbie).

On our way to    we passed one of the few remaining medieval houses in Paris of half- timbered wood.  The Marais has more pre-revolutionary buildings than any where else in town and was the center of French aristocracy under Henry IV. We were happy to have umbrellas because it started pouring again—a very warm, humid rain. In the center of Place des Vosges, built by Henry IV in 1605,  is a lovely park.  Around the periphery nine pavilions per side with art galleries selling unusual, high quality art.  Victor Hugo lived nearby when he wrote “Les Miserables.”

We returned to our hotel on the metro during the height of rush hours.  Our first train was delayed.  When we got on, it stopped with such a lurch that we all fell into each other.  Think “back-to-back, belly-to=belly.”   Actually the metro is a wonderful system and we used it to get all over Paris.

Paris, Blog 10

Paris, Blog 10

Now that my mini crisis is over, I have to confess…..

We were almost to Dijon when our tour manager came to the back of the bus and whispered in my ear, “You left your passport on the ship!”  I have been traveling all over the world for about 35+ years, and the only item I’ve ever lost is a hat here and there.  I was embarrassed and devastated.  If we had been flying out of Paris the next day with the rest of the tour, we would have had to take a very expensive taxi ride from Dijon back to the ship to retrieve it.  Since we weren’t leaving Paris until late Tuesday, we could have it sent by FedEx. Because it was Saturday and we were changing hotels, we weren’t sure when it would arrive.  A Vantage staff person on our bus suggested that the bus driver bringing the new group from Paris to the boat could bring my passport back to Paris the next day.  Happily it arrived at 11 PM that night.  Much relief and big tips for everyone!!!  I felt like an idiot.

The Vantage rep was onboard because she’s dealing with all the cancelled trips I mentioned.  She has boats stuck in Budapest, Germany, and somewhere in Russia.  To her my lost passport was a “no never mind.”  I don’t think I mentioned it, but when we left Cluny, we hit a very heavy rainstorm.  The water on both sides of the ship almost spilled over the banks, and the river was up to the crowns of the trees.  Fortunately we were a day past Lyon, which had the lowest bridge on our trip.  We cleared it by inches.

Paris—For our final night we went to La Coupela (sp?) a restaurant we had visited with Deb and Grant 16 years ago.  Our group got the to watch the world go by as we were seated by the large windows.  On our way back to the hotel, we drove by the Arch d’Triumph and around the Eiffel Tower—spectacular!

Another confession (two this blog!):  “The last time I saw Paris,” it was 150 degrees, filthy dirty, with people peeing in the streets.  I really had no desire to return.  However, this trip the weather is perfect, the city is clean, and I’ve yet to see anyone watering the sidewalk.  It’s truly a beautiful, magical city.

The last night of our tour along with every other tour group in Paris we stayed at L’Etoile Meridien for 600 euros per night!!!! I’m sure Vantage didn’t pay that but that was the rack rate.  I wouldn’t have paid 100 euros.  The room was tiny with unattractive furniture, stains in the bathtub, dirty pealing wallpaper, and 7 euros for one hour of wifi!

Today we transferred to a charming boutique hotel on the left bank.  From the outside it doesn’t look like a hotel having only a modest sign on the wall.  Inside it is filled with fresh flowers everywhere—peonies, orchids, a white flower I don’t recognize but love, and beautiful sculpture and art.  Instead of an impersonal lobby and a snooty concierge, at a small desk was a charming mademoiselle. A cozy, homey sitting room had delicious candy out for our pleasure.  Next to it was tiny bar area looking out onto a courtyard garden.  On the counter we found fresh and dried fruit.  Our room is large, bright, airy, and quiet with a coffee maker.  What more could we ask.  When we researched hotels in Paris, they were all expensive—even the 2 star.  This is a steal at 300 euros per night, which we rarely  if ever pay for a hotel.

Before we switched hotels, we walked leisurely along a wide street with antique dealers on both sides.  On the way to our destination, Museum Nissim du Camando, we passed through a typical Parisian Park filled with joggers, bicyclists, exercise and tai chi groups, pony rides, and adorable children.  The museum is a mansion built in 1911 filled with 18th century furniture and art objects.  The architect Rene Sergent (for my friend Stan)  patterned it after the Petitt Trianon at Versailles but with modern conveniences. Moise Comando’s family were wealthy Jewish bankers from Istanbul.  His only son was killed in WWI and his daughter and her family died at Auschwitz. All that great wealth and no one in the family survived. The mansion was exquisite and in beautiful taste.

When we were last in the Marais district about 16 years ago, it was a quiet area with a few Jewish restaurants and shops (it was the heart of Jewish Paris before WWII).  Today it is the most happening place in Paris.  I remembered having the best falafel ever so I was on a pilgrimage to repeat the experience.  When we got off the metro, we were engulfed in a mob of people.  It was a beautiful, sunny Sunday and I think ½ of Paris was there.
We knew we had arrived at the right place when we saw a lonnnng queue of people standing outside a tiny restaurant whose sign proclaimed in French, “often imitated, never copied.”  Young men in kippah walked along the line monitoring it with an Israeli attitude (If you don’t understand, I can’t explain).  They had gizmos, which took our orders and our money.  When we finally got to the window, we handed over our receipts and our falafel was made to order in a nano second.  The server and I started chatting, but the line “guards” (I was going to call them line Nazis but thought that might be inappropriate) told us both to move along.  Dan (he had schwarma) and I found a shady spot on a sidewalk a block away from the madness.  I put down my map and elegantly sat on the concrete and watched the world go by:  Chasidim in black garb, their pregnant wives, and crazies.

Nearby was the Museum of Jewish History and Art. The artifacts were unique and beautifully displayed and I had an excellent audio guide in English.  After I bought my ticket using French, I was asked if I wanted a French audio guide!  The exhibit included Spanish, Italian, Morrocan, Tunisian, and Salonikan as well as French, Dutch, and Ashkenazi Jewry.  There was a w of the original synagogues have been destroyed.  Debbie and I were fortunate to tour one of the best remaining (although in ruins) in Lithuania.
I don’t know how you all are when you travel, but the hardest part for Dan and me is choosing a restaurant.  I often look at Rick Steves, Trip Advisor, and ask the hotel clerk, but we actually do better wandering around.  While we wander we argue.  Dan likes his meat and potatoes; by dinner I like a salad.  We find a restaurant, sit down, then decide we don’t like it and leave. We continue to wander on, reading menus posted outside, looking at the food everyone is eating, checking out how much cigarette smoke there is, and getting crankier by the minute.

That happened last night until we found “the” place to have the quintessentially French restaurant experience.  It was outside on a corner of two side streets.  The menu had something for both of us; the prices were right, and the food looked delicious.  There was one table for two outside.  The owner shrugged us off—it will be 30 minutes (of course in French).  At that point although it was after 9, I was ready to wait.  We stood around and the waiter came out and told us to sit.  The owner came out and told us to wait.  Finally we were permitted to sit for good.  The French couple next to us began apologizing about the French commenting on the rude waiter.  We assured him we were fine although we had to wait a bit for menus and then for drinks.  I ordered l’eau gasseuse.  He brought it with Dan’s wine, but I had no glass or bottle opener.  They were out of my first choice on the menu so I quickly picked another item, a chicken salad with wonderful fresh vegetables, ham, and cheese.  Dan had the steak.  We got a basket of French bread and I asked the couple next to us if it was OK to ask for butter.  The man said, “of course but maybe not here.”  He asked for butter on my behalf…actually he asked four times before we got it.  Despite everything we really enjoyed the meal with good food and good conversation.  He was a CFO of a company and she was a lawyer specializing in mergers and acquisitions. Their English was as good as our French but we managed to communicate.  They painted a grim picture of the French economy.  They repeatedly apologized for the  poor service at the restaurant as if it was indicative of all the French, which we know it is not. We had to have at least one difficult waiter encounter on the trip.

Cluny, Dijon, Paris, Blog 9

Chalon-sur-Soune, Baune,Dijon,. Paris, Blog 9

A few more people observations.  I think the winning comment of the trip came from one blonde woman.  Upon seeing our first fortified wall, she said, “Is this the Wailing Wall!”  She wasn’t kidding.

For my friend Ken, if he gets around to reading my blog.  There is a ma on our trip who could be your brother.  I don’t know his real name because I keep calling him “Ken.”  You are much more handsome but the resemblance is amazing.

Yesterday, we visited another charming city.  I could go back to any of the places we visited except for Vienne.  Today Beaune had the biggest surprise of all….a beautiful medieval (1443)  charity hospital  Hôtel Dieu.  with a colored tile roof, a large courtyard, a kitchen that could be used today, and a very large, hospital ward .  It served as a hospital until 1971, The outside building is intentionally plain to discourage brigands, but the inner courtyard features what is called a typically Burgudian roof covered with colorful tiles fired 3 times: to harden, to burn in the color, to glaze.

The grandest room in the hospital is the Paupers’ Ward with red curtained beds head to foot on either side of the room,   During epidemic there were two per bed.  At the end is the chapel with a screen separating the chapel from the patients.  It could be opened every three hours so that they could hear mass from their beds.each patient had a pewter mug, jug, bowl, and plate and a rope hanging over their bed to help them sit up.  The nuns’ room was right off the ward so they could check on the patients at night.  All very modern for the time.  St. Hugue’s ward was a smaller room for wealthy patients established in the 17^th century.  The kitchen has a 16^th century rotisserie, which when fully round would turn for 45 minutes. There even is a pharmacy where the nuns made concoctions from the herbs grown outside.  The most common medicine was a syrup, wine, and opium.  I could go on and on because I found Hôtel Dieu.

This is a huge wine area—we’re in the heart of burgundy so we went to a cellar for more wine tasting.  The best wines are grown on sloping hills with Montrechet considered the best at $300 a bottle. The best cassis liqueur (kir) comes from this area and we bought a bottle.  OK so far I’ve bought cassis, olive oil, bottles of salt, pear jam.   We also had a free mini bar in our ‘suite.”  My whole suit case rattles.  I have everything doubled wrapped in dirty clothes and plastic wrap, but it will be iffy it all arrives in one piece.

I was looking forward to visiting the mustard factory and doing some mustard tasting, but it was too strong—even for me.  The mustard came in about two dozen flavors:   cassis, basil, honey, gingerbread! 

We left the ship for good today to head for Paris—at 8:30 in the AM with a wonderful stop in Dijon for 2 ½ hours arriving in Paris at 5….a long trip.  Our driver could not find his way out of Dijon at first trying to clear an overpass that was shorter than our bus and then getting lost.  While the AC on the bus worked, it malfunctioned and dripped water on one side of the bus.  Luckily we were on the other!

Lyon & Cluny, Blog 8

Vienne to Lyon to  Cluny, from Pheh to Phenomenal, Blog 8

A few observations:

For the most part, our fellow passengers are well-educated and well-travelled, but…..there are two ladies from Louisiana. Upon seeing a statue of a naked man, one turned to the other and said, “My, God, they show the man’s testicles!”   Even my grandsons responded with more maturity in Italy last year—not giggling once at David.

There are so many infirm people on this ship that I feel that we’re on a pilgrimage to Lourdes.

As you probably know, the rivers in Germany and other parts of Europe are all flooded.  Vantage is sending people home or if they haven’t left, cancelling their trips.  France is the only country that is still navigable.  The weather changes in a nano-second.  Today was warm (85), sunny, clear.  Now it’s pouring out.   It’s kind of fun being on board ship looking out at the rain.

That said, I had a wonderful day today.  But first, let me back up.

We were in a smallish town of Vienne a few days ago.   Dan really liked it—not sure why.  I could have skipped it.  With a few exceptions—a wonderful Roman temple—it was like any other modern town—modern shops, modern streets, modern traffic. We were supposed to take a tourist train to the top of the city for a view but it broke down.

However… that evening we arrived in Lyon, France’s third largest city situated at the confluence of the Rhône and Sôane Rivers. What a beautiful city!  I hope to return someday.  Lyon is known for being a culinary capital, the birthplace of motion pictures (the Luminiere brothers), universities, which make it lively, and a silk.  We had a demonstration of silk making on board ship.  The scarves were beautiful but at 70 euros there wasn’t one I thought worth the money.  I had bought a beautiful scarf depicting a scene from one of Breugel’s paintings in the Vienna Museum last fall (about the same price, but I loved it!).  The jacquard loom so tall it required 12 foot ceilings reads puncture marks like binary code on an early computer  By1850 there were 30,000 looms in Lyon.  

We visited the famous market, Les Halles.  In contrast to the one we visited the other day, this was very modern with displays so precise that I doubt if anyone touched the items.  It was also very expensive.  Smoked salmon was 99 euros a kilogram.  Even with a kilogram being 2 ½ pounds (I think) that is one expensive bite of lox!   Our guide told us that in Lyon they eat every part of the pig from the head to the tail—to me not very appetizing.  I saw a bottle of chicken schmaltz for some outrageous figure.  The entire place was more like a display of art that a food store. 

We drove to the most visited and popular site in Lyon—the Notre-Dame Basilica sitting atop Fourvière Hill (name taken from the Forum of Rome)  It is not terribly old,  started in 1870 and finished around WWI.    Dedicated to the Virgin Mary,the walls and floors are covered with glittering mosaics.  To me it seemed over-the-top and gaudy.  I prefer my churches old and musty. 

We went on a walking tour of Vieux Lyon, which offers the best concentration of well-preserved Renaissance buildings in France.

Lyon was a very rich city due to the silk trade. Inside Vieux Lyon are traboules, narrow serpentine passageways that were shortcuts linking the three main streets.  Silk merchants were able to move their goods safely.  Today you can still press a button next to an old door to enter into a magic world of loggias, spiral staircases, and delicate arches. 

In the afternoon we took a side trip to Perouges, a very tiny, quiet restored medieval town.  It was originally not part of France but of Saxony.  People were taxed for everything. Soldiers would search homes to look for salt not bought from the salt monopoly.  They knew all the hiding places, but……people were clever.  The soldiers would not disturb grandmere sitting in her chair so towns  people  would hide salt under the bottoms of the grandmeres.  I knew we were good for something! We enjoyed its famous dessert, La Gallette, a sugar covered thin-crusted pizza like dish, with a glass of champagne.  When we returned, we learned to play patenque a game like bocce ball outside of the ship.

Cluny today was a highlight of the trip for me.  We docked in Macon and took a short busride through Southern Burgundy—rolling green hills, red poppies, vineyards, tall trees.  From afar we viewed the Berzel Chatel, a medieval chateau currently occupied by a family.  It was the French equivalent of Downton Abbey.  I don’t know how they manage the upkeep.

Cluny—ah, Cluny, considered one of the finest Romanesque towns in France. (Have you noticed that everything is the finest, largest, smallest, oldest?!) You must wonder how I can still enjoy one more medieval building particularly a religious one, but I loved Cluny.  Cluny was the center of Christendom with its largest church—2 football fields long and containing five naves.  In 910 , 12 monks founded an abbey.  By 1100 it was the headquarters of 10,000 monks who followed Benedictine rule.  Very little of the original gigantic building remais, but there is enough to evoke a past page and it is very well presented including a 3-D movie and a a screen that when aimed at a ruin shows what it was like originally.  Our guide had a particularly thick French accent, and she kept talking about applesauce, which I later realized was “apostles.”

Immediately outside the abbey is the National Stud Farm.  We were able to watch trainers putting magnificent horses through their paces.  All of this was in an exquisite setting.

I was not looking forward to the goat cheese tasting wondering what I’d do while everyone ate (gag) goat cheese, but I had a wonderful time because of the adorable goats.  The nanny goats and kids were in an open barn.  In tans, browns, and whites they were more charming than our California goats and so playful.  One kid got a hold of my short, white skirt and I had to pry it out of his mouth.  The nanny goats meet the billy goats in October, and the baby goats are born within a two week period in February.  The cheese tasting was short and informal and I sat outside and watched a peregrine falcon soar overhead.

Tonight is our farewell dinner with abut 49 courses.  I have no patience for long, extended meals!

Viviers--the rest of the story, Blog 6

Viviers….the rest of the story, Blog 6

I called the structure at the top of the hill “the castle” when it’s really a cathedral.  I wasn’t entirely wrong because it seems that everyone calls it “the castle” perhaps because it was a fortified cathedral, built in the 11-12 centuries. The first bishop arrived in the fifth century.  Along with his canons, he lived in the height of luxury for his day at the top of the town, while the rest of the population lived below.  I loved this town because it very unrestored (is that a word?).  The homes really look as if they go back over a thousand years with marvelous old wooden doors (my son-in-law would love them) and very few, very small windows.  It is ironic to peek through a window to see a flat screen TV!  Among all the medieval houses stands a beautiful Renaissance home, Maison des Chevaliers (house of the knights) belonging to Noel Albert who lived in the 16^th century. According to our guide he was a canon to the bishop—his right hand man—until he decided to become Protestant and joined the Huguenots to fight his bishop.  He was captured, quartered and thrown into the Rhone. 

The Saint-Vincent Cathedral is the smallest Cathedral in France and the oldest one still in use.  While I have seen larger and grander cathedrals, this is one of my favorites—small and exquisite with 7 Gobelin tapestries.  Three were stolen in the late 20^th century.  Two of them turned up in Italy, but one remains lost—my guess it is hanging in a palacio along the Grand Canal in Venice.  Considering the size and weight of the tapestries, it must have been a well-planned heist.  In this beautiful venue we were treated to an organ concert, including pieces by Bach.  Magnifique!

Outside of the cathedral but not connected to it is a watchtower and beautiful views of the countryside:  green fields, mountains, the Rhone River, and a nuclear power plant!  The town center is tiny with no tourist shops except for one pottery store.  I bet if I return in 10 years it will have a McDonalds and chotzke shops.  We walked back to the ship along a long tree-lined street.  The plain trees, related to sycamore and maple, were planted to give shade to Napoleon’s army.  The Romans and Napoleon covered every inch of France.

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