Gay Paree

Careful readers will note that according to our itinerary, we were supposed to leave Paris on Saturday. A number of factors have conspired to keep us here for a few more days (oh, darn it, we have to stay in Paris--I can see your sympathetic tears welling from here). Let's just say that since arriving in Paris we've  spent several hours on internet surfing and phone calls trying to find a next stop, that the phrase "fully booked" is now the most loathsome to me, especially when pronounced with an indifferent Italian accent, and that if you're ever deathly ill in Paris, you've got a great adventure ahead of you.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

September 16-17
On Saturday, as I mentioned, we took the Eurostar from London to Paris. The Eurostar travels through the Channel Tunnel, but that's a very small part of the trip--only about 20 minutes. I was reading and missed it entirely. Both Rob and I have traveled from London to Paris the old way--overnight, train to ferry (with nowhere to sit, let alone sleep)  to train, arriving in Paris at around 6 in the morning. Calling the three-hour trip on the Eurostar a vast improvement is like calling Everest a decent-sized hill.

The highlight of the trip was eavesdropping on two English men discussing women. This is the second such conversation between English men on this trip (the other was in Bergen), and each time it was all I could do to keep from going over and slapping them upside the head(s). In the Bergen conversation, one English man said something to the effect that "a woman wants you to be her whole life. She doesn't understand that you have higher priorities, and she'll do anything she can to keep you at home. You have to be careful for that." Then he went on to bemoan and wonder about his perpetual singleness. On the Eurostar, one guy, in discussing his present relationship, said, "Oh, I don't know, I don't suppose it's going very well. I mean, she's lovely, she's intelligent, we have a wonderful time together, but now that we've been together for a couple of years (emphasis mine), the physical side of things isn't quite what it used to be." He then went onto bemoan and wonder about his inability to find a lasting relationship. Neither of these guys, I mean, blokes, were young--both seemed in their forties, so you can't really blame their observations on naiveté. Both men also claimed to be intellectuals at other points in their conversation, but they seemed pretty danged stupid to me. And both men were English, a fact that I'm not going to touch with a ten-foot pole.

Our hotel room is teeny (this is Paris) but otherwise fine, the hotel is centrally located in the Marais. This part of town, judging from the preponderance of rainbow flags and well-toned men in tank-tops and nipple rings, is clearly the couer of gay Paree. It's nice--it reminds us of home in Capitol Hill, which seems very far away to us now. We spent Saturday evening taking it easy. We had a nice dinner near the hotel, during which I discovered that I had lost my always scant ability to speak French. It was very embarrassing, but our waiter was a sweetheart about it and we did fine.

On Sunday, we met up with our friends Eric and Rebecca. Eric and Rebecca used to live in Seattle until just recently, and we spent a lot of time together. It was really cool to see them. They're staying in Paris for a month, so they had the lay of the city down quite a bit better than we did. We visited two of Paris' famous flea markets--you never have to ask me twice to go to a flea market--and they were so fabulous I could barely stand it. My French was coming back to me, so I was even able to haggle a little ("Quatre francs. C'est tout."). Rob and I purchased the following:

-a Baedeker guide to Northern France, dated 1893
-a couple of little notebooks
-two advertising key chains from '60s--mine has a paint can, from which, if you turn the Lucite fob upside down, floats a tiny paint roller
-a copper and brass filigree jewelry display rack from a boutique, circa 1954, in the shape of a gigantic beetle.
-the piece de resistance: a copper baby's head. It's probably a mold for making rubber baby-doll heads; it's the right size, and instead of eyes, the baby appears to have bolts. It's so cool and creepy as hell.

Sunday evening we made a date with Brian, who owns the condo upstairs from us in Seattle, but who has been transferred to work in Paris for the next couple of years. We really didn't know Brian very well, but being strangers in a strange land together makes for kind of an insta-intimacy. Plus, he's just wonderful. We had a lovely dinner in a restaurant owned by a friend of his. I ate rabbit. Mmmm.

September 18-22
Over the course of the week, we wandered around Paris. We went to some of the big spots: the Georges Pompidou center, the Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triomphe, the Musee d'Orsay. We've done our best to keep up on our "improving" educational activities, but I must say, we're getting a little museum-ed out. When I think back to all the museums we've been to on this trip, I just get tired. I'm not complaining, mind you. Traveling for two months has been a really interesting exercise. Right now, I can't really remember a time when I didn't haul all my belongings around from place to place or spend every waking moment with my husband. We're still having a great time, but I think we'll be ready to come home on schedule.

Our primary goal at the Musee d'Orsay was to see the Decorative Arts and Architecture exhibits. By accident, we ended up in the Impressionism exhibit. This is where the really big names are: your Manets, your Monets, your Reniors, your Degases. So, without intending to, we found ourselves face to face with some of the most famous paintings in the world. Perhaps it is testament to how inured to great art we have become on this trip, but as I stood before the Monet Notre Dames, all I could think was, "Oh, big whoop." Seeing a famous work of art in person is a little like seeing a celebrity in person; after the first spark of recognition, all you can think is how much they look like...themselves. You're like "Hey! It's that painting! From that calendar! Hey! I loved you in that calendar!" I felt like I should feel more in the presence of such great art. But, as I said, we're a little museum-ed out.

So, after leaving the museum, (and after a little language problem which resulted in my eating a nice liver salad for lunch), in the spirit of discovering parts of Europe normally overlooked (like the Leprosy Museum in Bergen), we scampered over to Déyrolle. Déyrolle is a taxidermists--you can buy or rent any number of preserved animals, and I think they'll even stuff your pet for you (once dead, of course). They're happy for you to browse around, and it's definitely worth a trip. They had all kinds of animals: lions, ostriches, polar bears, baby elephants, tigers, moose, yaks, bugs, birds, rats. While the more exotic animals are certainly exciting, it's the mundane ones like dogs and cats that really startle you. This store is David Sedaris' favorite place in Paris, in case you needed more of a recommendation. Rob took some surreptitious pictures, be sure to check them out.

We've spent some more time with Eric and Rebecca--we had a great dinner with them on Wednesday night. Rebecca speaks fluent French, and as she was asking the waiter about the wine, I turned to Eric and said, "It's like she has a super-power!" He agreed. We also had Moroccan food with Brian again, who, as I say, is just wonderful. I hope he moves back soon. 

--Lisa  

The Louvre - new and old

A fabulous Paris flea market

Another flea market--more upmarket with fewer fleas