Paris Gives Me Museumittus

Paris, the city of lights. What’s not to love about a city chalk full of some of the most famous museums on Earth? Take the Louvre for example. An art junkie like me could spend a whole week walking the galleries and still not come up for air. Having taken my fair share of Art History classes in college, nothing is more rewarding than seeing an amazing work of art I studied up close and personal. To walk through a gallery of sculptures from ancient Rome and Egypt makes me appreciate how artists through out time have made their mark on the world. 

 

There is also no better place than a famous museum for people watching. Everyone arrives with certain expectations.  I love to eavesdrop on conversations.  It’s like writers gold.  

Here are a few snippets from my time roaming the Louvre.

Standing in the Roman sculpture gallery I heard two guys talking about one particularly impressive piece of art.

“I guess the Romans really worked out. This guy’s ripped.”

“Yeah, they were major warriors.”

 

“So what's the deal with the tiny dicks.” 

“Must have taken ancient steroids.”

 
While standing on the steps in front of The Winged Victory of Samothrace I overheard two British women talking about the famous sculpture.  

“Lovely draping in the gown.”

“Yes, quite well done.”

“The wings are so nicely executed. I can count the feathers.

Yes, quite remarkable.”     

“She looks formidable don’t you think?”

“Yes, quite the impressive bust line.”

 

My favorite was a guy I stood next while waiting in line waiting to see the Mona Lisa.  After taking fifteen minutes to finally get close to the painting the guy turned to me and said, “What the Hell? This painting is so damn famous but why is it so damn small?”

I wasn’t surprised by his reaction. When I studied the painting in Art History class I thought it must be at least four feet tall.  Didn’t help that the painting took up almost the entire surface of the projection screen. I couldn’t believe it when I read the paintings dimensions in my textbook—an unimpressive twenty-one by thirty inches. 

The guy strained to get a better view. “I can barely see the face. I just don’t get it.” 

I gave him a Mona Lisa smile. “Maybe da Vinci ran out of canvas.” 

Paris On My Mind

As much as I love writing about Japan, another country has been haunting me lately—France. And who can dream of France without thinking of the city of light.  I’ve been pining for Paris so badly lately I added the city to my current work-in-progress. When a place gets into my head I can’t seem to think of anything else. So I’ve decided to do a series of posts on what I love about Paris and the South of France. Of course I couldn’t write about any country without reliving some of my fish out of water moments. In Paris I had quite a few. But one moment always makes me smile. For once I wasn’t a fish out of water!

 

On a overcast day, I headed out of my quaint little hotel in the Latin Quarter to meet friends at a wonderful little restaurant near the Eiffel Tower. I love to walk everywhere so I made sure to dress like a native. I wore black jeans, a matching sweater, a fashionable raincoat and a nice scarf. A must in France. To top it off I wore a cute black wool hat. I didn’t want anyone to know I was American. At least until I opened my mouth and my high school French popped out.  

I strolled down the left bank of the Seine enjoying all the lovely old buildings and then turned down a side street that looked like a good short cut.

A woman walked up to me and said, “Excuse me. Do you know the way to the bus stop?”

I looked around to see if there was someone behind me. Doesn’t she know I’m not a native? Just in case I was deaf she asked me again. I racked my brain for the right words. “I’m sorry I don’t know the way. I’m not from here.”

She nodded and continued up the street. I had a spring in my step as I walked to the restaurant, the famous tower growing larger and larger like my smile. I’d fooled a Parisian!

I was just a few blocks from the restaurant when a man on a bicycle blocked my path. I wondered if he was an undercover cop and he’d seen me jaywalking. He gave me a faint smile. “Excuse me. I’m looking for Rue De Martinique. Do you know if it is just ahead? Or did I pass it?”     

I felt like I was on the TV show Punked and any minute a film crew would come out of hiding. How could I fool not one but two Parisians? Was it my determined walk or my clothes? “I’m sorry but I don’t know. I’m American.”

He tipped his hat. “You fooled me for a minute. But the scarf gave you away.”

I smiled. “What do you mean? I bought this from a chic store—Target.”

Pulled From The Pages: Surprise suprise

 

 September 28^th

“Time for a mini break,” proclaimed Kathy as we fell into the sofa exhausted from our crazy schedules in post grad hell.

“Sounds great but where can we go that’s cheap?” I said, thinking of the paltry two hundred dollars in my bank account.  

 Midori hopped on the computer. “Leave it to me.”

Kathy and I stood behind her as she searched for cheap options taking into account we needed a country close to Japan and hopefully someplace we’d never been before.  After much debate, we finally settled on Korea.  Midori found a hotel and booked our tickets.

“We’re going to have a fantastic time. I heard the you can score unbelievable deals at mall after mall.”

I winked at Kathy. “I heard stuff is practically free.”

When we arrived in Seoul, Kathy and Midori where excited about all the great shopping ahead. They planned to spend at least two days in the malls.  I on the other hand, was looking forward to spending some quality time in a real bed. Because our apartment was in the traditional Japanese style, the three of us slept in the living room/bedroom in futons on the tatami mat floors. After two months, I had finally gotten used to waking up with a backache. Yet I still dreamed about a western bed.  

Midori was all smiles when she proudly said, “You are going to love the hotel I picked out. It’s just like home.”

I looked at her smiling face and wondered if putting her in charge of the hotel was such a good idea. “Do you mean America home or Japan home?”

 She threw back her shoulders. “Why Japan of course.”

There went my vision of a big fluffy western bed.

“You’re joking right?” said Kathy finally catching on.    

“You guys, it’s supposed to be really nice.”

Our first clue that the hotel was going to be anything but nice was when the taxi driver dropped us off and said, “Be careful. Don’t walk around here when it’s dark.”

Midori still confidant laughed it off. “Ha ha, very funny.”

Kathy and I looked at the hotels dirty brick façade and entrance doors covered in trash and grabbed each other’s hand. Midori pushed past us. “Everyone knows Seoul’s a dirty city. But I’m sure the inside will be quite luxurious.”

I wasn’t so certain knowing our budget. We walked through the door and were greeted by a lobby that looked like it hadn’t been redecorated since WWII. The filth factor at least was a bit less obvious. Midori picked up our key and we rode the elevator to the 10^th floor in silence. The air was filled with the pungent smell of stale cigarettes mixed with kimchi.   

Midori opened the door to our room with a flourish. “Look, it has an amazing view.”

If you could call a view of the city partially blocked by the building next-door amazing. Kathy ever the mediator said, “The sunset is pretty.”

Then Midori flicked on the main light to the room and the sound of scratching on hardwood filled the air.

I looked at Kathy. “What the hell is that?”

Midori tried hide the goose bumps on her arms. “Everything looks fine. The sound must be coming from next door.” She walked up to the sliding paper doors and said, “Look. Just like I promised.”

She pushed the doors aside to reveal a traditional Japanese style room. On the floor lay the all too familiar three futons. I threw my suitcase in the corner. “Fantastic.”

Kathy walked up next to me and whispered. “Look, I’m as thrilled as you are. But what can we do?”

Midori put her suitcase by the futon next to the window. “I don’t know about you guys, but I could use a nap before we head out for dinner.”

I hated to admit, but I was tired too.  If only I could flop into a fluffy western bed. “Fine.”

We crashed on our futons and slept for over an hour. When I woke to the sound of scurrying little feet the room was dark. “What the hell?”

Kathy shot up straight. “Something is in my mouth!”

Even Midori, who could sleep through anything, woke up. “My arms itch.”

I got up and walked toward the light and felt something crunch under my foot. “Yuck. What the heck is going on?”

Turning on the light, I was faced by hundreds of cockroaches scurrying for a place to hide.

Kathy and Midori jumped up and down on their futons screaming. “Gross!”   

I looked at Midori and tried not to gloat.  “You sure picked a fantastic hotel. Did we have to pay extra for the roaches?”     

Fish Out of Water Rule # 10: You Can’t Control the Weather, So Sing in the Rain!

Even in the rain, the beautiful gold statues of the Pont Alexandre III Bridge can be seen for blocks

  

I always check the weather forecast before I head out on a trip. In fact I start looking more than a week ahead of time thanks to the 10 day forecast feature on the Weather Channel. The day before leaving, I become so obsessed I often check more than twice!  Which is a big mistake when I know even a slight drizzle can drain my enthusiasm for a trip.

Case in point my trip to Paris. I’d always dreamed of visiting Paris—practically since I was in kindergarten. So when I finally booked a flight last year, I couldn’t wait to see the city of lights. But my excitement began to wane when the forecast was cold and wet. I only had three days in Paris before heading off to the South of France and rain had been forecast for the entire trip!

“Merde!” I screamed at the computer monitor.

How could fate be so cruel? I’d waited all this time to visit one of the most beautiful cities in the world only to pick a week when the weather was going to be awful? How could I walk the streets of Paris and take my customary thousands of pictures of all the city’s beauty and landmarks while battling the elements? Would the Eiffel Tower look as impressive soaking wet? I had my doubts.   

My friend Tracy, who had been to Paris several times, including in the rain, quickly brushed off all my hand wringing. “Get real! How can you be so upset over something you can’t control?”

Exactly. But I couldn’t let go. “I’ve waited so long to see Paris, why can’t the weather be fantastic?”

She put her hand on my shoulder. “Because Mother Nature can be a real dream crusher.”

No kidding! I’ll never forget the time I set off for Okinawa and the weather was beyond beautiful. My whole stay was perfect.  But as I rode the ferry back to the island of Kyushu, a pleasant voice on the intercom announced that we were heading straight for a category 4 Typhon.

So much for the weather—we almost capsized!     

I’m happy to report that after all my days of cursing Mother Nature—she came through for me in Paris. I had an amazing sun soaked two and half days and managed to see everything on my wish list.

Eiffel Tower, check.

The Louvre, check.

The Quai Brany, check

Notre Dame, check
Museum d' Orsay, check

Walk the Champs-Elysees, check
The Place de la Concorde and the amazing fountain made famous by the cell phone toss in the Devil Wears Prada, check

Stroll the Jardin des Tuileries and Jardin du Luxembourg, check

Eat my way down the Rue St. Germain, check 

I logged over 10 miles a day on my trusty pedometer!

On the last part of the third day, the rain finally arrived. Mostly a drizzle, it hardly put a damper on my last action packed day in the city of lights. In fact, I found that the rain seemed to amplify all the lights in the city by the reflections on the water soaked streets and buildings. Paris in the rain took on an even more romantic quality.  The place positively glowed!   

Moral of the story: Remember Fish Out of Water Rule # 10: You Can’t Control the Weather, So Sing in the Rain! Note to self: You’re in Paris, who cares if its soaking wet!