La Vie en Rose ... the Two Towers ... and The City of Light ....

Eiffel Tower, Paris and the White Tower, Tower of London

Dateline Paris -- Always dreamed of being able to write that, in homage to and in the great tradition of legendary news hawks like William L. Shirer, Christiane Amanpour, and "Gunga Dan" Rather. Such romance and mystery ... and danger ... inherent in those two words ... "foreign correspondent". At last, I have realized my dream ... at the beginning of this post ... grin.... When you read this, Linda Kay, JoAnn, Raenell and I will be IN Paris (perhaps with Guinevere the Druid Goddess, if she can be stopped from running off with the first gorgeous Gaul she sees and making like Irma La Douce ... 1963, Shirley MacLaine, Jack Lemmon, directed by Billy Wilder) ... so I can truly apply the term (if generously) to myself. I am on foreign soil ... and I am corresponding ... (grin) ... one more illustrious title to my list of great (ha!) accomplishments ... paralegal, go-fer, keeper of the flame, prognosticator, psychic, general factotum (and "toter" of facts ...), etc....

I am hopeful that we will be dealing only with the mystery and romantic aspects while abroad ... not the danger part ... although when I think about it, anytime you turn four cougars loose in the City of Light ... and Love ... you never know what may happen. However, as I ponder further ... the "romance" part may be in short supply too, as our beloved and significant others are back in the States ... soooo wish you guys were here!!! And ... thinking again (which in itself may be dangerous!) ... unfortunately, the "mystery" may be confined to trying to figure out from day to day just how much the dollar has fallen against the Euro and the British pound.... But hey!!! We are in Paris!!!

Any of you who actually read the things I write for the blog ... and/or who know me well ... will know that Paris is one of my absolutely FAVE places in the world. It was the first place I chose to go ... the place I had lusted to see ... off the North American continent when Yahn and I reached the stage in life where we could do so. Yahn has told the story of how, when I proposed our first trip to Paris in the spring of 1984, he was not at all enthused at the idea and did his best to talk me out of it. Bless his heart ... by that point in our marriage he should have known how determined I can be and saved his breath ... but once I told him I was going to Paris, with or without him (of course with was preferable, but not a given at that moment), he decided that he would come along ... overcoming a long-standing fear of flying to subsequently join me in seeing as much of the world as we were able to reach before his health precluded flying. And we've had such fun together ... we've told some of our travel stories here ... and as I've warned, there are lots more.... But I digress....

Jobey, Rae, LK and I, hereinafter sometimes collectively les girls (1957 movie of that title starring Gene Kelly and Mitzi Gaynor), are currently and for this week ensconced at Le Grand Hotel des Gobelins ... a beautiful little hotel on the Left Bank (Rive Gauche) of the Seine, just on the edge of the fabled Latin Quarter ... home for a time and definitely a magnet (particularly in the 1920s and '30s) for wonderful writers, performers and artists, including but not limited to Ernest Hemingway, F. Scott Fitzgerald (and his scandalous but spirited wife Zelda), Josephine Baker, Salvador Dali, Pablo Picasso and others.

We've been planning our trip for months (since last July, in fact), and for the most part paid for it around then (which is a really good thing given the aforementioned precipitous slide of the U.S. dollar). Airfare, hotel, breakfast each morning, a day trip to London via Eurostar "Chunnel" train on Thursday, March 20, a fabulous dinner cruise to see Paris by night (they don't call it the City of Light for nothin') on Bateau Parisien (think the lighted boat that Cary Grant and Audrey Hepburn were on in the 1963 movie Charade) on Friday the 21st (a full moon night!) avec (with) Le VIP service ... sans (without) walking (a blessing by that time, I assure you) ... our private table at the front of the glass-enclosed boat to optimize viewing, and our own table attendants, a singer and a band, wonderful food and wine ... our major "splurge" after the trip itself. Yahn and I indulged in a lovely, romantic bateau (boat) dinner cruise on our first trip to Paris ... and it is definitely worth doing. So ... even though the "romantic" part is precluded this time, I know les girls will have a magical and memorable evening.



Bateau Parisian Dinner Cruise, Paris

[Note of possible interest: At one point in the river, near the Grenelle Bridge on the Ile des Cygnes (Isle of Swans) where the boat turns around, there is a replica of the Statue of Liberty, which was given to the United States by France in 1886. The Seine replica was dedicated on November 15, 1889, and is set facing west, toward the U.S. and its "big sister" in New York Harbor. A full-sized replica of Liberty's torch is placed at the Pont l'Alma, where Princess Diana was killed in a car wreck in 1997; the torch at the Alma Bridge thereafter became an unofficial memorial to her. And I find it interesting ... and comforting, particularly in trying times ... to note that "our" Statue has been replicated across the country and around the world, in such diverse places as Minnesota and Las Vegas, and on to more exotic locales such as Japan and Tienanmen Square in Beijing, where it was the symbol of the brief and ultimately brutally crushed student demonstrations against the Chinese government in 1989. Remember the terrible satellite pictures when the Red Army moved in, and the picture of that wonderfully brave man, standing in front of a Chinese tank? But again I digress....]

Now ... what else to do??? So many places ... such limited time ... decisions, decisions....

Of course, we must "do" La Tour Eiffel ... the Eiffel Tower ... originally abhorred by much of the Parisian population, but now recognized everywhere as the symbol of the city. It's wonderful to take the elevator up to the top (or as high as one is permitted to go) and look out at Paris literally at your feet. The boat traffic on the Seine, the broad expanse of the Champ de Mars leading to the glittering (literally ... gold statues) Trocadero. Off in the distance, the Arc d'Triomphe, Notre Dame, Les Invalides, Sacre Coeur.... I've got to tell you ... I've been on the replica of the tower here at Paris Las Vegas (think October Reunion), and although it's very nice, and gives a great view of Glitter City ... it simply cannot compare with being atop the real thing, IMHO. Just seeing so much history spread out before you is breath-taking ... and humbling....

Of course there are all the marvelous museums ... Le Louvre, Musee d'Orsay, Centre Pompidou to name some of the majors, but only a few of all the museums in tout Paris. The Louvre holds such works as Leonardo Da Vinci's Mona Lisa (smaller than you'd think), the Venus De Milo (where I was almost thrown out of the museum on our first trip to Paris, for trying to sneak a photograph where no flash was permitted), the Nike of Samothrace (a/k/a "Winged Victory", used as background in the 1957 movie Funny Face, with Audrey Hepburn and Fred Astaire), the Egyptian and Greek exhibits, Delacroix's massive canvases ... one could easily spend more a week (a month!) in the Louvre and still not thoroughly examine every treasure ... but, time constraints.... The Musee d'Orsay was transformed from the former Gare d'Orsay (a train station) and contains a concentration of French artwork from 1848 to 1914 (much of it formerly housed at Jeu de Paume), including works by Renoir, Monet, Manet (not a typo), Pissaro, Cezanne, Degas (think ballerinas) and the Dutch Van Gogh (think missing appendage and Don McLean's "Vincent"), among others. The Pompidou, the ultra-modern vision of the architect Renzo Piano, concentrates on the art of Picasso, Dali, Duchamp and Chagall, to name a few. At one time, one of its "exhibits" was Piero Manzoni's "masterpiece" “Mierda de Artista” ... which translated, loosely and circumspectly, basically refers to a "body waste product" (ewwww!) of the "artist". Merde!!! ... as the French would (and do) say.... I think we can skip that one ... IF it's still there....

Our other "splurge" will be the day we travel to (and back from, late that night) London. After we arrive at St. Pancras Station, we'll buy a day pass on the Underground (the Tube) and head straight for the Tower of London complex ... so massive, so brooding, so rich in history. The original "White Tower" was built by William the Conquerer in 1078. First up will be to see the British Crown Jewels ... dazzling!!! ... we are les girls, after all, and certainly have our priorities straight. (grin) The Tower grounds and buildings are haunting ... and haunted ... there were a lot of heads that rolled there, including the unfortunate Anne Boleyn (second wife of Henry VIII and mother of Queen Elizabeth I) and Catherine Howard (the fifth wife of Henry VIII) ... and many others who were killed sometimes by other means after imprisonment there. A flock of ravens has lived at the Tower for centuries (the yeoman warders even have names for them), and it is legend that if the ravens ever leave the Tower, the monarchy and the entire kingdom will fall.

From the Tower, we'll catch the Tube to the Knightsbridge station, just across from Hyde Park and a couple of blocks from the world-famed Harrod's department store (owned by Mohammed al-Fayed, father of Dodi, Princess Diana's companion in Paris the night they died). Although there are wonderful things to be seen (and bought) all over the store, the standout (IMHO) are the fabled Food Halls, featuring food and drink from literally all over the world. Perhaps we'll have time to "sit a spell", grab a sandwich or some more exotic "vittles", and just drink in everything, including a glass of wine to fortify us for the rest of the day. (Side Note: When Yahn and I were in London in 1989, we rented a flat for the week just across the street from the Knightsbridge station and from the park ... and we relied a lot on food wagged back from the Food Halls.) From there, we'll do our best to take quick looks at Buckingham Palace, Trafalgar Square and Piccadilly Circus, with the highlight of the visit being "high tea" at The Palm Court at the Ritz, before we have to head back to St. Pancras and our Eurostar return to Paris.


Lower Chapel, Ste. Chappelle, Paris

We must visit Ile d'la Cite (in the middle of the Seine) to see Notre Dame (sans Quasimodo ... although he can be the life of the party, a real "swinger"), and the beautiful, somewhat off the beaten track Sainte Chapelle, where the French royal family worshipped, before they totally lost their heads, with its incredibly beautiful stained glass windows which can render one absolutely speechless. Little bistro for lunch or perhaps a picnic by the river with pate and baguette (real French bread will spoil you) from a charcuterie (broadly, a deli), with mid-afternoon refueling at a patisserie (a bakery ... all over the city, and all to die for!!!).

I am so hoping that one evening we'll be able to stop for a light meal and a kir royale or two at Fouquet's, the historic restaurant at the corner of the Champs Elysses and Avenue George V, and watch the sun set behind the Arc at L'Etoile. Fortunately there are underground passages ... and Metro (subway) tunnels ... at L'Etoile ... otherwise, you would never get across that madhouse of a traffic roundabout.

One day in Paris, we can take the Metro to just past Sacre Coeur (Sacred Heart ... not to be missed), then disembark and walk back to the Basilica, stopping for lunch at La Lapin Agile (the Nimble Rabbit), where Picasso used to hang ... then after Sacre Coeur take the funicular down the hill and wander around the artists' hangouts in Montmartre, picking up the Metro again at Abbesses. (Word to wise: If you see an elevator symbol with the word Sortie ... "Exit" ... and there is no escalator, believe the elevator is there for a reason. Take it ... NOT the stairs ... or as at Abesses and Ile d'la Cite you will find yourself on a loooooong climb back to street level. Most exits from the Metro are easy to negotiate, but those two .... Oy! It's a wonder Yahn's and my bones aren't still resting at Abbesses from that first trip, when we didn't know better. ) We must take in one of the French street markets ... probably Marche d'Aligre, or Puces, which are the most fun. Personally, I would love to wander around Pere Lachaise cemetery again ... the "final" (in this life) resting place of Moliere, Wilde, Piaf, Balzac, Proust, Yves Montand, Simone Signoret, Sarah Bernhardt, Delacroix, Isadora Duncan, Chopin, good ol' Alice B. Toklas, et al ... but les other girls might think I'm even weirder than they already suspect ... even if Jim Morrison (TheDoors) IS among the inhabitants.

Whenever I see the French Tricolor (flag), I am struck with a mental blast of La Marseillaise (the French national anthem). Remember that stirring scene at Rick's club in the 1942 film Casablanca ... arguably one of THE classic films of all time, with Humphrey Bogart, Ingrid Bergman and Claude Rains ... when the orchestra defiantly struck up La Marseillaise in the face of the Germans? And that heart-breaking scene at the airport where Bogie tells Ingrid that she must go with her husband, rather than staying behind, but that they'll always have Paris? And then he says "Here's lookin' at you, kid." Buckets ... buckets, I tell you ... of tears have been cried over that scene. (Although I must say that it was once posited to me that the ultimate chick-flick ending was really a "guy's" ending, because Bogie got to keep hangin' with his buds and left, stage right, with Claude ... "the beginning of a great friendship"). But I digress....



Excepting the odd bar or two of La Marseillaise, I am sure that the whole time I am there, I will have Piaf's marvelous, immortal song La Vie in Rose ("life in shades of rose" ... must see the movie with Academy Award winner Marion Cotillard) running through my mind ... another immutable (at least to me) symbol of Paris:

Hold me close and hold me fast
The magic spell you cast
This is La Vie en Rose
When you kiss me Heaven sighs
And though I close my eyes
I see la Vie en Rose
When you press me to your heart
I'm in a world apart...
And when you speak, angels sing from above
Every day words turn into songs of love....
Give your heart and soul to me
And life will always be La Vie en Rose.
I thought that love was just a word
They sang in songs I heard
It took your kisses to reveal
That I was wrong and love is real....


Arc d'Triomphe Paris at night

Ah, quelle romantique! Quelle passion!!! C'est magnifique!!! C'est ... C'est ... les girls .... oh.... Okay ... shift mindset.... Still, IMHO, it is impossible to be in Paris without having thoughts (many thoughts) of l'amour ... toujours (and ever) l'amour!!!! And, if thought transference works ... as I know from experience it does ... les guys we left behind ... our own true loves ... will be receiving some very distinct ... not to say overpowering ... messages. But you know what they say about absence ... and hearts ....

)O(