Paris in Two Days

I've had a little, but much-needed, adventure. Me and Chris scarpered off to Paris for a couple of days to do art. Paris is less than two and a half hours away by Eurostar train and we were there in no time. We'd booked into the lovely Scribe Hotel just round the corner from the Paris Opera House so were right in the centre of town and convenient for everything.

I'll tell you more about Paris when I've got time and show you some of the 300-odd photos (edited down to 220) I took with my spiffing new camera, but, for now, here are a few highlights to whet your appetite.

I've wanted to go to The Louvre for years (decades actually) and the closest I've ever come is going to the cafe and shop under the pyramid a few years ago, but didn't quite make it past the ticket barrier. So, the first visit of this trip was to the Louvre. And I am *so* pleased I've now been. I will, of course, need to go back again, but at least I now know what to expect. I know it's big but it's actually huge. No, I mean, *really* huge. I've been in lots of big galleries and museums but this one took my breath away, to stand at one end of a corridor in one wing and look at acres of paintings and people wandering round and know that this is simply one part, one relatively small part, of the whole museum. The scale is enormous and the art is outstanding. I couldn't believe I was looking at half a dozen Leonardo's within touching distance, hanging on the wall beside paintings I've never seen by artists I've never heard of. Such is the wealth of The Louvre.

Three highlights of The Louvre are, of course, the Mona Lisa, Venus de Milo and the Dying Slave by Michaelangelo. All were permanently surrounded by crowds but the Mona Lisa was ridiculous, with crowds half a dozen deep to see the painting and, even then, you're kept at a distance from it, presumably partly a security measure and partly so that people can see it. Venus and the Slave weren't quite so bad, but you have to wait your turn to see 'em.


I think we spent about three hours there and saw a fraction of the art, but there was more awaiting us at the Pompidou Centre which, luckily, stays open late in the evening. Entrance to the galleries is by an external escalator up five floors, not very good for my vertigo but I managed it by staring at the step in front of me and ignoring the increasingly impressive city-scape of Paris over my shoulder. At the top is a panoramic view of Paris at night with the Eiffel Tower in the distance,a beacon of golden light. Down one level led to the galleries that are justly world-famous. Being pressed for time, we opted to see the modern galleries rather than the current exhibition, and I'm pleased we did. This was probably the most comfortable and rewarding gallery to visit, even though it was only showing a fraction of the overall collection.


After wandering round an autumnal Tuileries the next day we went to the Musee D'Orsay, one of the few museums open on Tuesdays. It's full of 'modern' French stuff from about 1850 onwards and is packed to the gunnels with Impressionist works. It's inside the frame of an old railway station on the Left Bank and, since most other places are shut on Tuesdays, was the only place we had to queue to visit. Unfortunately, parts of the building are being renovated so we missed some of the highlights but that hardly matters when there's so much to see and gawp at.


My favourite was the Van Gogh galleries and in particular the self-portrait and the 'Church at Auvers', one of my favourites and a painting I copied at school when I first used oils. The layout of the Musee is a bit confusing and time was pressing so we only spent a couple of hours there. It was nice to see some of the astonishingly famous painting in the flesh, so to speak, but found that it is indeed possible to see too many Impressionst landscapes.

Final stop was at a shop I'd discovered the day before, La Cure Gourmande, a bright sunshine yellow shop selling scrumptuous biscuits and sweets in wonderfully painted tins and boxes which, of course, I wanted. And no, they're not for you, they're for me, so get your hands off them.

I was surprised at how cold it was, colder than London, and seeing the locals all bundled up in winter gear was odd, as was the sheer volume of black coats on the streets - I'm not sure that Parisians know that it's possible to buy a coat in a colour other than black. Smoking seems to be a national hobby and right to Parisians and it was strange sitting in a restaurant with people puffing away like there's no tomorrow. On the plus side, I saw very few fat Parisians. And getting a double-decker train on the Metro was a small, but potent, delight.

So there you are, Paris and art in two days. More to follow with photos when I've sorted through them. Au revoir for now!