promenadingpeacocks

A slow start to the day with no timed entrances to hurry for this morning so I lazily opened birthday cards over my morning tea. At breakfast it was clear from the cluttered tables with just one left laid for us that everyone else had rushed off!

It was going to be a day for feasting the eyes.. and feasting!

Back to our now familiar bus stop for the number 63 to Cluny (named after the nearby musee Cluny which houses artefacts associated with the history of Paris). Then a short walk up to St Severin church, stopping on the way at the quaint Abbey bookshop.

Disappointed yesterday at the poor pickings at Shakespeare and company I read with interest a sticker on a bin (as you do) advertising English books for sale. Back in our room I googled it and discovered it was on our way today. Seeing the enormous maple leaf flag waving outside it would be hard to miss. Finding the books was not as easy. The space inside the shop is cramped with shelves full of books literally from floor to ceiling. The owner, Google says a Canadian, must have heard us hunting for authors C to D but took a while listening to my polite questions before coming out of his tiny space behind a tiny counter and then rolling aside the shelves for A to B and revealing my quarry. I chose an eclectic few which was just as well as, despite being secondhand, they cost 9 euros each. Mind you, he told me we should help ourselves to tea and coffee which was outside on a table and offered me a loyalty card with the possibility of winning a tote bag. My kind of shop!

The space you can see in the photo is all there is between shelves. Fire risk? Don’t even go there. And there were stairs down to a basement!

St. Severin was just around the corner and practically empty. So I had plenty of time and freedom to wander around taking photos of the ‘vitraux’ and the spectacular twisted stone column alongside its neighbours that represent palm trees and lead up to beautiful fan vaulting.

The earliest stained glass dates from the 14th century and the latest from the 1960s. These last ones were created by the painter, Jean Bazaine.

He chose blue for those near the baptistry as he was inspired by the knowledge that there was a spring just outside the church at that point which is why the baptistry is in its unusual position.

I was interested to read that other windows created by Edmond Hirsch in the 19th century used photographs fired onto glass to get realistic faces.

Unfortunately the camera reacts to the sunlight and the detail is lost in my photos.

Meanwhile Mr McGregor had been busy with his film camera. He has recently rediscovered an interest in film and has been rooting about in our collection of discarded cameras to find one that can still be used successfully.

Later we passed one of those newspaper kiosks which oddly had a table full of old cameras for sale…we have enough already!

But for now it was time for coffee. We persuaded a cafe laid up for lunch inside that it was too windy to sit outside so we were allowed to squeeze into a corner for his expresso and my grand creme.

The decor seemed to still be stuck between the Paris Olympics and Christmas. 😊

Then a stroll in the direction of rue Racine where I had booked our/my birthday lunch. Another internet find, it’s a bouillon, an old name for a Paris bistro, as I understand it, and this one still retains its beautiful art deco style.

On our way there I saw a shop that advertised itself as selling videos etc. but had trays and trays of books outside! Like a moth to a flame I was soon sifting through while himself muttered impatiently.

French books but only 50 centimes each, who could resist?

We still got to the restaurant ahead of our booking but there wasn’t a problem and we were ushered up the stairs to a long room that was fairly empty but was soon full of chattering diners.

The food was wonderful and so rich neither of us had room for dessert. An elderly lady at a table near ours had no compunction about taking photos of everything and anything and told us she lived in Reims where she had worked for many years but used to come to Paris on business. She and her friend sat for ages after they had had their coffee and paid the bill, just enjoying the ambience I imagine. We were not so confident and, anyway, had timed tickets for Notre Dame to think about. We wished each other bon continuation and left.

Retracing yesterday’s steps (we realised we were on the same road the bus driver had dumped us on) we were in plenty of time to join the fast moving queue at Notre Dame. It was crowded and, despite a service going on in the centre of the church, people still talked as we shuffled round the ‘sens de visite’. The shock of the new light inside was not as great as I’d expected but then the reopening had been very thoroughly filmed and reported on television with very few people cluttering up the space. But it was still incredibly impressive and at one point, as we discussed a stained glass window, wondering if it was original or a substitute for one that had been lost, I found myself beginning to feel emotional. The scale of the restoration is almost unimaginable as you stand in what had been a smoking shell.

I searched in vain for a memorial I remembered near the exit that commemorated British help in two world wars when France had been invaded but I couldn’t find anything nor anyone I could ask. Back to Google.

Outside I tried to get himself to take a picture of me in front of the facade. I usually moan if he loses my feet but this time I didn’t mind, I just wanted Notre Dame..but a corner got chopped off and I look grumpy! 😊 But I woz there.

So I took one too…crane and all!

Then back over the river to sit down with Google maps and find the 63 bus stop…

And home for a snooze and my scribbling…

Not forgetting my goodies for feeding the brain later…

The sky might be blue and the blossom dancing but it was pretty nippy around the nethers this morning as we set off to find the number 63 bus stop by the Seine.

Google maps always offers a choice of routes between location and destination and I will always take the bus over the metro. Claustrophobia is a problem for me but I always defend myself by saying you see more from a bus!

I had tickets for the Musee de l’Orangerie which has huge paintings of water lilies painted by Monet specifically for a gallery built to display them.

It was only after a conversation about Paris with a London based friend during which she mentioned seeing some Monets displayed on curved walls that I went off on a Google hunt and found them. How had I missed that? I finally got to Giverny about fifteen years ago and had seen the lily pond there.

So here we were, crossing the Seine on Pont de la Concorde and noticing that you can see the Eiffel tour if you look back. Photos of each of us, of course!

We were early but got in the timed ticket queue anyway. It was cold standing there but at least I wasn’t in a flimsy dress as one young girl. Pretty but brrrr..

It was warmer inside, thank goodness, and the waterlilies were stunning. As usual there were the selfie takers. And chatterboxes. There were signs asking you to look in silence and one young curator spent most of her time shushing people. Himself found the comfy bench in each room while I wandered and marvelled at the scale of the paintings and the mixture of colours used in a simple tree trunk..

Downstairs there was a collection of paintings assembled by an art dealer and collector, Paul Guillaume. Some interesting ones by Andre Derain whom I’m not familiar with and others by Modigliani and Utrillo which I am and love…

After a sit down and some coffee it was back outside onto the huge terrace overlooking Place de la Concorde where it was feeling much warmer. A bit early for our lunch reservation we wandered down into the Tuileries garden and sat in the sun for a while.

Mr McGregor , ever the gardener, was fascinated by the symmetrical and severe pruning of most of the trees around us.

While we were there a starling ran up to us, clearly expecting some crumbs. We had nothing to share but it was a surprise to see one as we rarely get them at home. Feeling peckish we strolled back to the exit gates and crossed rue de Rivoli to find the bistrot I had booked online. It was a bit more upmarket than I had realised, all long aprons on the waiters and waitresses and starched tablecloths. But delicious food and friendly service.

Afterwards a stroll down the rue de Rivoli as far as the Louvre where we decided we needed to catch a bus! Long queues around the courtyard and under the colonnades. Been there, done that…although there’s always more to see!

We were catching a bus as far as Notre Dame as I hoped to buy books at Shakespeare and company but clearly something has changed as there was a queue outside with just a few people at a time being allowed in and only one small wall rack of secondhand books. So no replenishing of English novels today.

There was one more thing I hoped to do before taking my poor exhausted husband home to rest his eyelids.. so I led him into the park René Viviani, sat him on a bench and went off to look inside St Julien la Pauvre.

I had seen it on the map close to Shakespeare and company and discovered that it is a Greek Melkite catholic church and has several icons within it. I remembered how beautiful the icons had been in the Kremlin churches years ago when we were in Moscow and was interested to see these.

And they didn’t disappoint. The church is a remnant of its original size but that makes it an intimate space with the icons glowing from every wall. A perfect and peaceful way to finish the day. For me anyway. Himself was just thinking of his forty winks! 😊