Our last day in Paris started at l’Orangerie, famous for its Monet waterlilies, and during our visit featuring a Matisse exhibit that we had missed when it came to the US.
The colors, the shapes, the patterns – just take a look. They could inspire a quilt!
Plus a few other gems. Renoir:
Derain:
Among many other masters.
We took a quick wander through the waterlilies and debouched onto the Place de la Concorde.
On the way home, we wandered through the streets in our neighborhood. Apparently this area is a magnet for fashion!
I’m not quite sure where you would wear these clothes, but on the other hand, I’m not a Parisian.
Our last little dinner was takeout from the neighborhood.
Meanwhile, the elevator had stopped working on Saturday and still was not fixed. We were worried about hauling our suitcases downstairs, especially since the handrails were lying on the floor, or even worse, attached at only one end, while the stairs were not only steep but winding.
Fortunately, by chance we ran into American neighbors renting the apartment below, and they were also concerned, especially the mother (who was about our age). But their party included a strapping young man who took our bags down to the sidewalk as though it were nothing. And then the cab we had booked sent a message that they weren’t available after all. Eek! But a further call to another company was a success and we made it to the plane with time to spare. Not a great ending to the trip, but it all worked in the end (and we spotted our neighbors on the flight – they live in northern Virginia, of course!).
To end on a happier note, enjoy this bouquet of tulips!
It’s well past time to fix the mess the sewer replacement people left behind, so to that end I called Meadows Farms to see what they could do. Well, not only could they regrade the spot by the front steps, but they could also (unrelated to the sewer business) redo the terrace with polymeric sand. This mysterious substance binds the stones together in some magic way, and ten+ years (maybe 15?) after the original installation, it was time to do it again. Oh, and they could also deliver some stones to replace the ones that disappeared during the sewer mess.
Although I didn’t take any before pictures, here’s one that gives a hint of how untidy the edges were.
My plan to leave the leaves on the garden beds so that little bugs can have a nice life resulted in edges even more untidy than usual. And you may be able to see how the cracks between the stones have become a habitat for weeds.
And look at it now!
So clean, so tidy, so satisfactory!!
The stones they delivered are not quite as organically shaped as the original ones, but they will do. If I can manage to lift them into place, that is.
Looks pretty bad right now, but I’m hoping that placing a few every day will make this a manageable project.
And the grading that prompted this whole thing looks very nice. The sewer people had uprooted the yews that grew against this wall, and I didn’t replant them. The rhododendron that I planted last year up and expired, though I have high hopes that a new one will have a better chance to staying alive.
Again, no before pictures but imagine this sloping down towards the foundation wall, scraggly as can be. Now it’s nice and level!
You need to imagine this space with some greenery that makes the downspout fade into the background… More planting to come this fall.
Silla’s train left at 2:00, so we just had a leisurely stroll around the neighborhood before lunch. We walked down Rue du Nil, first “attested” back in 1590 and made famous recently by a chef who has earned a Michelin star. For us it was only about a block away, with inviting shops: vegetables, cheese, chocolate, bread, fish, etc. We bought some cheese and wandered back to the apartment, had a decent but not exciting lunch at the restaurant next door, and then waved off Silla with kisses and tears. Hope to see her again at Gadenstaettli!
We were especially interested in a Bellini exhibit there, and it did not disappoint. I’m still not sure which Bellini is which (father, son, uncle?) but they all painted beautifully. Memling was there too, along with Mantegna, Giorgone and others. Lots of virgins and babies, plus an arresting painting of a drunken Noah and his sons.
And guess whom we should meet as we made our way down the gorgeous spiral staircase but Pablo, our Context guide at the Louvre!
Very happy to see him again, and I wish I had told him how often we had quoted him when talking to Silla about our Paris travels.
Dinner tonight was at de Saison, a hole in the wall around the corner from the Rue du Nil. We arrived promptly at 6:00 when they opened, and they were not really ready for us, but the chef/owner was jolly and poured us some wine, eventually coming by with a menu. We shared the roasted vegetables with chive hummus (or something like that),
then I had the duck (a certain amount of quacking took place to make sure our choices were clear) and Alison had the lamb (baa). Both delicious, and by then the place had filled up with the young things who must be the frequenters of this establishment. And so to bed.
Our plan for today was to take the train to Chartres Cathedral, with its Gothic architecture and gorgeous stained glass. We had all been there but since it had been about fifty years ago, we were looking forward to seeing it anew. However, the travel gods were against us: Paris is on strike due to the proposed change in retirement age from 62 to 64. Everyone advised us not to even attempt a train, so we had a free day to do whatever we wanted.
We started out at the Delacroix Museum, which was modest and only mildly interesting, but pleasant enough.
It’s housed in the elegant apartment and studio he lived and worked in and features many of his drawings, paintings and sculptures. His most famous paintings are at the Louvre, of course, but the artwork featured here showed another side to him. The paintings inspired by his visits to north Africa were particularly interesting.
Then off to an early lunch because we were told we’d need to get in line at 1:30 for our 2:00 timed tickets for Ste. Chapelle (more on this anon).
We found a cafe just across the street and sat down for a leisurely light lunch: Quiche and salad for Alison and me, French onion soup for Silla.
We took our time and enjoyed watching everyone walking along outside, guessing whether they were French or otherwise. (Of course the only way to confirm the outcome would be to stop and ask them, which was impossible!)
At around 1:00 we got in the long line for the chapel, hoping that they would not mind that we were at least an hour early. As it turned out, both venues made it sound very difficult to arrange a ticket (the Delacroix being the kind of website that takes forever to use and then foils you at the last minute) and advised us to make absolutely certain that we arrived there right on time – but it’s all a canard! The Delacroix let us buy our tickets on the spot, and there were only half a dozen or so other people even there. The chapel, after making everyone confused about which long line to get in, didn’t care a whit that we were an hour early and let us sail through!
Today was cloudy, then brightly sunny, then cloudy again and then, while we were standing in line, raining hard for about five minutes. And of course you want to see the stained glass in good light. Well, we had enough sun to point out the contrast between light and shade, so that was fine, not to say occasionally brilliant. The intense blue, gold and red are so stunning that I couldn’t stop taking pictures.
The audio guide was designed for giants who could stand in front of the highest windows and pick out the figures from the Bible, so we didn’t have much luck with that. But in the end, the glories of the light, and the fascinating videos showing how they’ve restored the glass and cleaned the stone, were absorbing and illuminating. All in all, a stunning space.
Dinner tonight was at Le Compas, the same place we went to last night, because we all liked it, especially Silla. Very French in the sense that all the waiters were professional and quick, and the food was traditional and delicious. Silla and I each had what the other one had had the night before, and we were both happy: mine was fish au citron and hers was the salmon with green beans. AO was very happy with her red meat.
Then, because it was Silla’s last night with us, we splurged on creme brulee for us two, while AO had tarte tatin, and we were all delighted.
Today started out with a walk to Notre Dame Cathedral. Of course, we couldn’t go in, since it is still very heavily under renovation, but the display outside was well worth it.
It’s an astonishing feat of project management, to say the least: organizing stone masons, conservators, carpenters, even aerial workers who rappel up and down as they work on saving and restoring the stones, gargoyles, carvings, organ and other myriad pieces of the cathedral. Truly a magnificent effort that they aim to finish in 2024. We’ll see.
We walked along the Seine, with another view of Notre Dame swathed in scaffolding,
stopping at the memorial to those deported from Vichy France to the camps. Most of it is underground, and it’s quite moving.
Across the Seine we found an elegant little cafe, almost deserted at 11 a.m., where we had expensive orange juice, tea and a croissant. We strolled by the bouquinistes and on to Shakespeare & Company, the English language bookstore founded by Sylvia Beach in 1919, frequented by every writer you’ve ever heard of. It’s now so popular that they actually limit the number of people who can be inside at the same time.
We browsed about and came back with little souvenirs, including this Jerome K Jerome that I’ve never read!
And they offered to stamp the book, too, which was ridiculous but makes a great souvenir:
We stopped by Ste Chappelle to check out the lines (still long) and realized that the Conciergerie, where Marie Antoinette was jailed, was right next door with immediate entry, so we went on in. They are using technology to show you what the building would have looked like back then, so as you move your tablet around, you see fires flickering, view the uncomfortable beds, and hear people walking by. Not entirely successful, but interesting. It turns out Marie was there for only a few months, while thousands of other people spent more time there, so they sort of downplay her presence. But look at this striking Gothic ceiling!
Dinner tonight was back in the Montorgueil neighborhood, with its rows of restaurants, food stores and wine shops. We had another good dinner – mine was salmon and green beans, which does not in any way convey how delicious it was.
BUT after dinner, we came home to sounds of breaking glass, police sirens, trash burning in the streets, and other signs that the people are not happy about the change in retirement age from 62 to 64 (which seems ridiculously generous to many Americans but has enraged the French). We had seen lines of police cars with flashing blue lights as we came home from the museum, but it was not until after dinner that we heard the sounds of breaking glass, the sirens going up and down, and saw the trash smoldering in the street.
Luckily we are on a narrow street with shops on the bottom floors and apartments above, so we can feel safe above the fray. Several waves of protestors (though only scattered groups of three or four) came through for about an hour, with a few neighbors hauling trash cans inside and admonishing them. As of now, 9:00, things on our street seem to have quieted down, though there are still random sounds of breaking glass and motorcycles revving their engines. We still feel very safe in our apartment on the third floor and hope that things will quiet down for good soon!
Here’s a short video of the “social action” at this link:
Yes, from time to time this blog does return to its original focus. Here’s a look at what’s blooming now.
White
When I moved here thirty years ago, I planned to create a white garden à la Vita Sackville-West. I soon discovered that a shade garden is a bit challenging if you’re seeking only white flowers, so I gradually included a bit of everything. But there are still a number of white blooms scattered here and there.
The back garden includes an Annabelle hydrangea, Itea ‘Henry’s Garnet,’ and a variegated hosta that was a pass-along from Sara Toye. Without my conscious planning, they all bloomed together. You’d think it was meant! (Yes the hosta does look a bit bedraggled, but what can you do? Just squint)
The perennial pea is thanks to my mother, and though it romps about too much, I can’t let go of it. It’s such a pure, creamy white. The oakleaf hydrangea ‘Snowflake’ is a reliable bloomer that I need to cut back every year lest it prevent entry to the terrace.
In the sunny border, the yucca that I tried to eradicate has returned and is a nice size at the moment. The blooms of penstemon ‘Husker Red’ seem to float above the foliage, which is green rather than the dark purple-red it should be. Maybe it’s a different variety?
Pink
I planted a row of lilies in the raised bed, and here’s the first to bloom. The spirea needs to be cut back drastically, and I hope that will make it more floriferous next year. Yes, that’s clover there on the right. It popped up and for now I’m leaving it to help the pollinators. And below is a rhododendron bloom from the shrub that was here when I moved in. It never blooms very abundantly, but I do like its soft pinky purple color.
This canna, Cannova® Bronze Scarlet Canna Lily, is an experiment. It’s in a blue pot in the sunny border, and it does add an interesting splash of dark purple and red, plus the bloom is dramatic. The other is a Eupatorium purpureum subsp. Maculatum ‘Gateway,’ at least I think so. Or it could be asclepia??
The rest
On the left are some volunteers, a morning glory and a Tradescantia. The foxglove at right is a perennial one that I should probably reposition where it can get more attention.
These are the containers on the terrace. The first is too bitty and crowded but maybe it will come into its own over time?? The others are a few houseplants that are summering on the terrace, plus some coleus, a tuberous begonia and more caladiums.
Being wise travelers, we didn’t want to tackle the enormous Louvre by ourselves, so we booked a Context tour. Context never disappoints! This tour was led by Pablo, a brilliant guide who knew just where to go and what to see.
We started with architecture, which I can too easily overlook. The Louvre started out as a fortress built in the 12th century, and rather than just walk by the walls on the way to somewhere more interesting, we stopped and really looked at what we were seeing.
Surrounded by a moat and reinfoced by ten towers, the fortress was meant to keep the English away (of course). These massive walls were uncovered back in the 80s and are part of the Medieval Louvre exhibit.
Next, we looked at sculpture, another kind of art that I too easily overlook. Pablo positioned us just right and commanded that we turn around to look back. Each time he did this, we saw a vista of room after room connected by doorways in perfect symmetry.
The Caryatids Room, completed during the reign of Henri II, is a good example.
And we looked up to see these heavily decorated ceilings that celebrate Henri, just in case visitors or courtiers weren’t sure just who was in charge. Note the H’s everywhere.
Pablo knew how to engage his audience. Here, for example, is an exquisite sculpture of a sleeping woman.
After we had admired her from this angle, he told us to walk slowly around it and tell him what we saw. We dutifully shuffled along and then saw this:
It took a moment for the penny to drop. Luckily, all four of us had no idea what to expect and were astonished, as we should be!
And then there was the enormous Winged Victory of Samothrace, dominating the space, which we examined from all angles.
Again, he told us to turn around and enjoy the vistas through the galleries from this vantage point. It’s placed here for a reason, but we might not have noticed its position without Pablo’s help.
The final hour was spent visiting old friends:
The Coronation of Napoleon by David (an early example of fake news, since some people pictured were not there, and some others who were there were not pictured)
The stirring Liberty Leading the People by Delacroix
Veronese’s Wedding at Cana (which is positioned directly across from the Mona Lisa and as we all agreed is a much more interesting and significant painting)
This tender Old man and His Grandson by Ghirlandaio
And more, of course. The tour was terrific because Pablo made us not just look but see.
Then home to the apartment to await Silla’s arrival. I looked up the street and down the street, and there she was! What joy to see her again.
After Silla got settled in, we walked over to our favorite food street to find dinner. We brought home something that I failed to record, but there’s no doubt that we ate something and it was good! More adventures to come tomorrow.
We said goodbye to Amsterdam on a rainy morning. Thanks to Sebastian who called for the cab and made sure we were safely on board before bidding us farewell, we got to Centraal Station (for the last time!) and soon found ourselves on the Thalys train to the Gare du Nord, Paris. It had been a really good week, in part because of the comfortable, efficient apartment, and of course because of the VERMEER! On to the next.
The otherwise efficient train was late getting in, but no matter. We checked into the apartment on the Rue du Caire and were disappointed with what we found. This is what was advertised, which was technically accurate,
but in real life the space, though roomy, was dark and depressing, especially the bare gray flooring (not the warm color pictured) and weird lighting (mostly overhead). The ensuite bathrooms had only sinks and showers, with the shared toilet in a separate spot, which was inconvenient and would have been clearer to us on a closer reading. But the real problem was that the apartment appeared to be in the middle of a half-finished renovation. The kitchen, toilet and my bathroom had recently been updated. But Alison’s bedroom floor was severely buckled, which is a tripping hazard, at the very least.
Cedric, our contact, promised that new flooring was to be installed the week after we left, and in the meantime he could offer a rug, which was unlikely to help and in fact never showed up. Alison tread carefully the whole time we were there. And the sight of trash on the streets, seen from the cab, was a glimpse of real life in Paris during a strike, but hardly welcoming.
Oh, well, we miss our friendly host Sebastian (where’s the complimentary bottle of wine? the high end coffee maker well stocked with beans? directions to the best local restaurants? the offer to take out the trash for us? etc.). We will just have to adjust…
Or course we had a list: famous paintings that we had learned about in our Western Art series, like Dejeuner sur l’Herbe (so much bigger in person)
and the lovely Manet mockingbird and fife player (the empty background so reminiscent of Velazquez).
I could really develop a passion for Manet.
Cezanne’s still life with oranges must have been in the house because it looks so familiar, and here was the real thing.
Also Degas, Van Gogh, Caillebotte and more. A surfeit of impressionists but there’s nothing wrong with that!
Lunch was in the cafe and hit the spot. A salad for me with artichokes, salmon, a poached egg, candied cherry tomatoes (not really candied but more like cooked down), and pickled onions. Plus a simple dressing that was quintessentially French and just delicious.
AND a small glass of beer because I never had any in Amsterdam. Alison’s quiche and salad were equally good.
From here we traveled by Metro to the Cluny, of which I have fond memories from last time. Though we were both a bit museum-weary, we did have to stop and admire the Unicorn tapestries (time to go back to the Cloisters in NYC),
as well as the stained glass and the Adam and Eve sculptures. (I might have to specialize in A & E the way Alison does with annunications.)
They both look a bit nonplussed here.
The Cluny was lovely, but somehow not as enchanting as last time. “You never can recapture that first, fine careless rapture…” Plus, by this point we had museum feet.
Back home we took a detour to the Montorgueil neighborhood in search of dinner for tonight and possible eat-out opportunities when Silla joins us tomorrow. We came home with two vegetable gratins and some chopped beets and hoped we’d like it! (Guess what, we did!)
Today dawned cool and cloudy, the kind of weather that makes it hard to tell what time of day it is. But we forged on to Centraal Station, where we scoped out tomorrow’s train and then found our tram for the Hermitage Amsterdam.
This Hermitage is related to THE Hermitage, of Russian fame, which for many years has been lending exhibits from Russia to this location and others. However, the Board here decided after the Ukraine invasion that they could no longer support this partnership:
Russia’s attack on Ukraine made this aloofness no longer tenable. The Board and Supervisory Board therefore decided on Thursday, March 3, 2022 to sever ties with the State Hermitage Museum. The museum on the Amstel is now reflecting on its long-term future.
Well, good for them, I say!
The current exhibit is called Rembrandt and his Contemporaries and focuses on “history paintings,” which are often religious in nature. The show includes only two actual Rembrandts, though they are both stellar, one a gorgeous painting of Minerva (likely modelled on his Rembrandt’s wife Saskia),
and the other a jewel of a small portrait done in grisaille. The others are paintings by teachers, students and friends including Jan Steen (who adds a necessary robust humor to the proceedings)
and Carel Fabritius, he of the Goldfinch (and the one who died far too early when an arms store in Delft blew up).
The show was interesting enough, and we had to marvel at the founders of the Leiden collection, who have more money than you can imagine and over twenty years have collected lots and lots of paintings from the Golden Age of Dutch art. Very kind of them to share it all with us!
Time for lunch, and a kind woman in the elegant museum cafe that seemed to feature only coffee and cake recommended that we try a “brown cafe” just around the corner. These are traditional cafes that are called brown I think because of all the pipe smoke over the centuries. With pea soup (me) and cheese toast (Alison),
we enjoyed a warming lunch while perched on the upstairs level of the small bustling cafe. I particularly noticed this family group, with the parents featuring zipper motifs on their clothing!
We contemplated visiting the Dutch Resistance Museum, but a combination of museum legs and our need to pack up for tomorrow’s train led us to regretfully turn back home. Next time!
After last night’s little contretemps, and because we had no appointment times to worry about, we slept late and took our time getting started. From Centraal Station we walked in a leisurely way down to Dam Square, filled with tourists like us. We slipped past the Juliana exhibit and found our way to, of all things, a quilt shop! In fact, two of them!
On our last trip I took home several fat quarters from Den Haan & Wagenmakers, so of course I wanted to return so that I could collect more unused fabric more of these delicious fabrics and make them into a quilt – eventually. Imagine my delight to discover that well-known Dutch quilter Petra Prins has a shop that adjoins Den Haan! Since I have no room in my suitcase, I brought only a few fat quarters back with me, but I enjoyed chatting with the staff (who, like everyone else in Amsterdam, with only minor exceptions, spoke English). The place was bustling with a couple of bees that were working on applique and other handwork, and the mood was entirely warm and friendly.
Very traditional quilts, but with bright colors and playful designs. Yum!
Our main focus was a walk through the Jordaan district, following Rick Steves’s directions. We enjoyed the flower shops like this one,
this display of many people with a pearl earring,
this elegantly quirky shop
and this historic house on the Moolsteeg, dated 1644, one of the oldest in Amsterdam.
Hard to tell in this photo, but the house leans just a bit out to the street so that when you attach a pulley to the hook above, you can hoist your cargo safely up through an upper-story window. Once you notice the hooks, you see them everywhere!
It was past time for lunch and just beginning to rain, and we identified a nearby coffee shop, but it was so crowded that we didn’t think we could find a seat.
Somehow the nice young waiter squeezed out two chairs and a tiny table for us. It’s a Greek place, so we had spanakopita with feta and spinach (me) and with ham and cheese (AO).
The place was full of young folk, a couple guys playing backgammon, etc. But as the rain began to relent, they gradually melted away, and so did we.
From here we headed to the Noordemarkt, which was allegedly right down the Prinsengracht but in actuality not that easy to find. But we got there eventually, scoping out the fresh-cut forsythia, fresh shellfish, sausages, and more.
The advertised textiles and clothing were not so enticing, so we found some apple pie to bring home for dessert and otherwise enjoyed the doorways and steps of the neighborhood.
Although these steps would be a bit daunting if you had to scurry up and down them every day!
Home to pick up our laundry (thank you, Sebastian, for recommending this local service) and find dinner for tonight. We went back to the Lunch Place for takeout, which is really all we want to do if it’s not our local dive. Sadly, tomorrow is our last day, but we will take in a few more museums before we leave.
Birds
blue jay
bluebirds
brown thrasher
cardinal
Carolina wren
catbird
chickadee
chipping sparrow
downy woodpecker
goldfinch
house finch
mockingbird
mourning dove
nuthatch
Caroline's Garden and Travel Record 