Encore France: Day 3 - Stunning Church, the Pantheon, Luxembourg Gardens

After a fabulous deep, restful sleep we were eager to get out onto the streets of Paris again, just to breath it all in and take in the sights and sounds. A quick shower and we were off. Down rue Monge and onto Boulevard Saint-Germain where we found a great bistro that offered breakfast of fruit juice, baguette with jam, croissant, ham and cheese omelette and coffee all for just €8 each. Couldn’t resist that, could we? And honestly, it was all absolutely delicious. The place was fairly full, and mostly with locals, which is always a good sign.

With satisfied tummies we set off on an amble to explore the area, and – joy of joys – came across a really fantastic street market. The fruit and vegetables were nothing short of beautiful. The smells and colours were such that you never get with our homogenised, pasteurised, blandestised supermarket offerings back here. It was actually wonderful just to walk around that section. Olives, cheeses, pates, wines. Ah, totally gorgeous. We spent quite a bit of time chatting to various stallholders, who all invited us to sample their product and were more than happy to spend time chatting (just make sure you point out that you are Australian, not English). There were, of course, stalls other than food, and I selected some lovely scarves as gifts for folks back home. I also picked up a fabulous hat for myself and one for my man.

Donning our new headgear, we headed back to the hotel to deposit our goodies and change into cooler tops as the day was warmer than we had expected.

Out again, and this time we strolled up rue Saint-Jacques, pausing to look at that lovely hotel of the same name, which had been on my shortlist because of the charming decor. Our –maybe-we’ll-get-there-maybe-we-won’t destination was the Pantheon. On the way there, however, we veered off to streets right and left, always discovering lovely bits of architecture or little secret gardens. Thus it was that we found ourselves outside one of the loveliest churches ever, Saint Etienne-du-Mont. Built in 1492, the year that Columbus was bumping around the Caribbean, this stunningly beautiful church deserves to be one of the major tourist attractions in Paris, but I am so glad it isn’t because we were the only people there and were able to just sit and take it in in peace and quiet.

 

Photo courtesy Wikimedia

 

I didn’t even take our camera out of the bag; just had a feeling that the place was so lovely that I only wanted to enjoy it with my eyes. It was light, and light-filled, and spoke of a religion based on love and not condemnation and fear. The photographs I’m adding here are from Wikimedia, copyright-free, and I’m offering them so that you can perhaps appreciate how sometimes you don’t feel inclined to reach for the Lumix.

 

Stunning isn't it.
Photo courtesy of Wikimedia

 

After such a beautiful stop on the way, we walked slowly the few blocks to the Pantheon. It is indeed impressive; it is indeed quite beautiful. We could – we did – spend quite some time there, fascinated by the Fulcrum and the stunning works of art adorning the walls. My man did descend into the bowels of the building to the crypt where so many famous people are interred – Marie Curie (the only woman to be so honoured), Victor Hugo, Emile Zola, Louis Braille, René Descartes (go away, Monty Python song). It’s a really special place, incredibly elegant and a fitting resting place for such great minds.

 

Back out on the street, we paused to admire some of the surrounding buildings and colleges. Hugely impressive was the town hall for the 5^th arrondissement, as I’m sure you’ll agree. After this, we will never again think of our local council offices as excessive.
 

 

It was now a lovely downhill stroll to Luxembourg Gardens, but on the way – oh, do envy me, please – we came upon the most incredible ice-cream shop (better, in my opinion, that Bertillon), Amorina Gelato. Honestly, what we purchased in there were not ice-creams; they were works of art. The ice-cream is scooped out with a flat paddle and built up petal by petal (yes, that’s what I said) until what you have as the finished product is the most perfect flower, opening out delicately at the top of the cone. And let me assure you, the stunning flower is in no way let down by the flavour. These ice-creams are beautiful to look at and wonderful to eat.

And so we came, still on our Amorina high, to the Luxembourg Gardens, that lovely, lovely park which some people declare to be the most beautiful park in the world. Are they? Ask me when I’ve visited all the parks in the world. Photographs never do them justice. They are like something out of a fairy tale, complete with a lovely castle overlooking their walkways and fountains. I do know that we absolutely love Jardin des Tuileries and always will, but Luxembourg Gardens are nothing short of magnificent. Could I choose between the two? I don’t think so; they are both special and magical to me.



We wandered around the gardens for quite some time, stopping and sitting for a while on a bench to watch a young female diving into huge piles of autumn leaves while her boyfriend filmed her joyous antics. That was gorgeous, and I have to admit we wished it was us jumping into those enormous piles with such abandon.

We also discovered a tiny little garden where everything is in miniature, just a scaled down garden for scaled down little people – and no smoking allowed in there. Wonder of wonders!

From the gardens we walked through the 6th until we came to Saint Sulpice. Now, I know that this church is a must-see for those who enjoyed Dan Brown’s “Davinci Code”, but I found it gloomy and horrible. Even the doors were somehow forbidding, and I thought it seemed more like a place of condemnation than salvation. At the time of our visit, a film crew was making a movie there and so we, and other visitors, had to stand back for a while, watching the proceedings, until we were allowed to enter through that dark, heavy door. I wish I knew what the movie was. I watch quite a lot of French films, and the actress certainly looked familiar but I couldn’t think of her name. Anyway, our visit to this church was quite short, and we both felt so relieved to just get outside and back into the sunshine. Urgh!
 

Just so stunning.


It was by now, as you can appreciate, mid-afternoon and we were starving. Somewhere along Boulevard Saint-Michel we spotted a café which appealed, a tiny place full of lovely wafting cigarette smoke so that we could indulge in a bit of passive smoking to our hearts’ content while feasting on delicious Croque Forrestier and quaffing the usual delightful Cote du Provence rosé. Ah, perfect.
 

I know you want to see more of this fabulous place.

It was then quite a walk back to the hotel, stopping along the way at a Fran Prix to top up the milk, munchies and vino supply. A long lovely bath waited.


Dinner was taken at Le Twickenham, a restaurant on Boulevard Saint-Germain. We had really hesitated about going there as the name put us off so much. Let’s face it, that name just reeks of a place frequented by visiting Brits, and so wasn’t at all appealing.  We were about to walk past and go elsewhere but a waiter who was both pushy and charming (can there be such a combination?) inveigled us inside, and so we found ourselves seated – not surrounded by a bunch of Brits, not surrounded by anybody really – inside and partaking of our evening meal there. The meal was ordinary in the extreme, and the Twickenham is not an experience we will repeat. Just glad that it wasn’t too expensive.



And how about this guy? Fabulous in the extreme.

A slow stroll back to the Agora, a glass of port for another top day in Paris, and our heads were ready to connect with the pillows and we slipped into the arms of Morpheus.

What an image to take into dreamland.

Catch you tomorrow, when I’ll tell you about one of the most memorable restaurants we have ever visited – actually, I can’t imagine anything ever equalling it.
 

France, Day 2: Paris

29 April 

After a great sleep in a bed so wide I had to keep stretching my arm out to make sure I wasn’t alone, we woke to a perfect Paris spring day. Whoever wrote “I love Paris in the spring time” probably had the wonderful good fortune to first meet her in that lovely season when I am sure there are at least 100 flowers for every tourist. Solomon, indeed, in all his finest was not dressed as grandly. 

A fantastic hot shower in soft-as-silk Paris water, a dash of make-up (for me at least), and we were ready for breakfast, so down we headed to the ground floor and into the breakfast room, a room with yellow stone walls and wrought iron furniture, a small room where nobody could remain unseen and anonymous. Having been tipped off by wonderful travel guides such as the DK Eyewitness series on the importance of acknowledging other people in shops and restaurants, as we entered the room we politely offered a “Bonjour” to our fellow diners, all four of them. As it turned out, one couple was Italian – their French, of course, was far superior to ours – and the other couple was English, and their accents were such that it actually made us feel a little better about our own attempts.  

Our waitress, a delightful woman of African descent whose name was, if I recall correctly, Iris, brought us coffee and we feasted on light as air, buttery croissants, pain-au-chocolat and delicious, creamy yoghurt. It was a great way to start what was to be a day, indeed, of awe and wonder. 

Leaving the hotel, our first stop was the Jardin des Tuileries.  Through the gates by the metro entrance, and we were in a world of true beauty.  To our left, the Louvre in all its magnificence, but we wanted to keep that for later, to prolong the anticipation; today was just for walking and looking.   
 



Jardin des Tuileries

 

With our shoes becoming whiter and whiter by the second from the dust of the chalky white pathways, we strolled through avenues of magnificent trees, past statuary both stunning and whimsical, paused at fountains which in another city would have a park  all to themselves such is their loveliness, were wooed by banks of perfect spring blooms.

 

 

The white pathways = dusty white shoes
(so worth it)

 



We delighted to see donkeys taking small children for rides under the elms and mulberries, were transported back to childhood ourselves by a fabulous carousel, and were oh-so-impressed by elegant Parisiennes promenading in their beautiful clothes and high heels, looking themselves like part of the artwork on show. 


 

With our back to the Louvre, we walk toward the Place de la Concorde, and the Eiffel Tower came into view slightly to our left. Straight ahead of us, lined up in perfect symmetry to the Louvre and the gardens, is the Arc de Triomphe. Wide stairs lead us up to street level. We pause to admire some superb artwork, huge hands that hold the promise of friendship and connection. Fantastic!  A young guy comes up to us and asks us to take his photograph. We oblige, of course. He then offers to return the favour. We hesitate, thinking of all the dire warnings we have read on Trip Advisor about people who have lost valuable camera equipment to unscrupulous people offering just such a favour. Stuff it, we think, life is too short to spend every moment expecting the worst. We hand over our camera and pose with the magnificent Obelisk of Luxor in the background. Our photographer - who we discover is from Brazil - tells us he thinks we will like the photograph, hands our camera back, shakes hands with us and wishes us a happy holiday. See, it really does pay to maintain some faith in human nature. 

Wonderful work - one of my favourite things in Paris

Leaving the gardens we spend some time taking in the Obelisk, this 3300 year old piece of Ancient Egypt.  We are indeed in awe. It is quite breathtaking, everything about it perfectly formed and it is SO OLD! Coming from a place where we get excited over buildings which are less than 200 years old, this is indeed a thrill. 

Place de la Concorde

I love that this spot which was once so drenched in blood during the Reign of Terror, this place of execution, vengeance, of justice and treachery, is now named the Place de la Concorde, the place of concord, of agreement, of peace. It seems to me it’s a very good name for such a site. 

Dignified National Assemby building, fittingly
sited opposite Place de la Concorde

Walking to the left we approach the Seine – ah, the river at last – and cross at the Pont de la Concorde. They don’t do things by half, these people of Paris. It seems that every building is constructed with a view to the view, if you know what I mean. Nothing seems haphazard, beauty is never left to the whims of chance. And so, there in front of us, on the other side of the bridge, lined up perfectly for effect, is the imposing National Assembly building.  If ever a building looked like a seat of power, this one does. It looks as though it has stood since Centurion was a rank and not a tank, as they say. Indeed, it looks as though it could easily have been the regular meeting place for the Roman senate, and you just know that if a barrel chested man in a toga walked out through the main doors at that moment it would somehow look absolutely right. It is just as it should be, no more and no less, and so for me it immediately goes onto my “favourites” list. 

Ah, how would you like to be ...

Turning left – how appropriate on the “left bank” side of the bridge - we strolled slowly along, pausing often to admire the work of local artists or to browse the wares for sale by the many bouquinisters, those keepers of small green pop up stalls that line the footpath overlooking the river.  The main items for sale are books – often old, rare, smelling musty and wonderful – but you will also find movie posters, artwork, postcards (including some of those old black and white naughties from years long gone), traditional French house number signs, and of course all the usual souvenirs such as fridge magnets, face powder compacts, playing cards, etc.  Checking out what is on offer, watching the delight of people who come across some literary treasure, is a fantastic way to spend your time. The bouquinisters are an icon of Paris, one that should not be missed. We purchased a charming print called “The Cats of Paris” – yes, we are cat people – which we really love. Haven’t had it framed yet, but one day it will hang on the wall and whenever we look at it we will remember our first day in Paris. 

Fabulous bouquinista stands
(photo courtesy of Wikimedia)

All around us were the scenes of movies, of imaginings. We wanted to take it all in at once and just fill ourselves to bursting with the place. We wanted to be on the right bank, the left bank, the islands all at the same time. When we came to the Pont Neuf we crossed over to the Ile de la Cité and wandered around the flower markets on Place Louis Lépine .  Heavenly doesn’t begin to describe it. The colours and scents that come at you from all sides are truly out of this world, and even if you have no interest in gardening, a visit here is an absolute must. 

One of my favourite photographs - love this shot of the Louvre
taken from the Left Bank

Blissed out, and with tummies rumbling after having walked for hours, we decided to find somewhere to eat.  Heading back towards the Louvre we decided that the Café le Corona looked like a good bet. It is right there on the Quai du Louvre, and we were able to sit outside at one of the tiny little round tables which are the norm for eateries in Paris, enjoy a Croque Monsieur and watch the passing parade – the elegant locals, the back-packed-bum-bagged-baseball-capped tourists, the leather–jacketed-slightly-scary-looking Eastern Europeans, the cute-as-buttons-in-their-tartan-miniskirts-and-long-socks Japanese teenage girls making V-signs for holiday snaps, and the cops on rollerblades. Yes, cops on rollerblades. You have to love this place.  With so much entertainment, it was easy to linger at the Corona, sipping on a couple of beers and then rounding it off nicely with a good, strong espresso. 

 

By this time we had been out and about for over 8 hours, and most of that time had been spent walking, walking, walking. In case I forgot to mention it, I was actually still feeling the effects of a broken ankle and multiple fractures sustained a few months previously, and the pain gremlins were beginning to bite.  Some time spent with my foot resting on something nice and soft, such as a cushion atop a bed, was called for and so we headed back to our hotel for some well-needed rest. 

As we were getting ready to head out again for dinner the heavens opened. The day had been a perfect spring day, with stunning azure skies and warm sunshine on our faces. There had been no hint of rain, but here it was, beating down with the intensity of a Darwin “shower”. Phew, unbelievable.  But of course, Paris suits rain so much that it only added to the charm. The receptionist had handed us a couple of umbrellas, and so we were able to enjoy a stroll around the block watching the rain turn the stunning architecture into a soft-focus photograph. 

We checked out various restaurants, but the one which caught our eye was one right on the corner across from the Louvre, Café le Carrousel. Right in front of the café is a superb statue of Joan of Arc on her horse, gleaming and glittering in gold. Okay, the café is definitely more popular with tourists than with locals, but it is one of those places where the position is so fantastic that you are willing to forego fantastic food. Some of the best meals we have had in France have been in little villages where the furtherest you can see is into the kitchen. But this was our first dinner in Paris, and to enjoy it while gazing across the street to where soft yellow light flowed from the windows of the Louvre while Joan kept watch over everything made for a total package that was nothing short of wonderful. Oh, and we were introduced to Kir Royale, so what more could you possibly want. 

I never tire of thiswonderful  statue - must
have 20 photographs of it.

You do want more, hey? Well, when we had finished our meal, when we were ourselves warm and fuzzy with food and drink, we crossed the road and stood for a while watching the Eiffel twinkle in the distance. Now, come on, you could not want more than that, definitely. 

 

 

  

Catch you tomorrow.