I want to go to sleep but a couple one floor below me decide to have a marathon love-making session with the window open. The air shaft is a great sound conductor. I can hear everything. Since there is no air conditioning, I�m loathe to close my window and try as I might, I can�t see what they are doing. At some point they realize they are not alone in the air shaft and shut their window. I can now only hear indistinctly so I fall asleep, hoping they won�t start up again. I sleep through the night so I can assume they either kept the window closed or I was so exhausted even their noisy exertions couldn�t wake me. No way, I�m sharing my dreams, though.
We finally check in. Our rooms are small and without air-conditioning. I have a beautiful view of three other walls that surround the air shaft outside my window. The hotel staff people are very friendly and helpful. The young female desk clerk gives me a lecture on how to protect my belongings and warns us of the dangers in the neighborhood. So here are Tom, aged 69 and me aged 67 being cautioned by a 25 year old. I suspect the only real danger we are in, since we don�t stay out late and are highly unlikely to sample the wares being offered on the street corners, is to drop dead of shock if we were ever propositioned.
We scope out how to ride the Metro to Les Invalides to see Napoleon�s Tomb. The tomb and its setting in the Eglise du Dome are awesome. You can find pictures of it and other Paris venues on my personal personal photo site titled �Paris�. We visit the Musee de L'Armee behind the tomb. The largest section of the museum covers French military history from Medieval times to 1871 when the Prussians captured Paris in the Franco-Prussian War. Next to Napolean�s retreat from Russia and Hitler�s Blitzkrieg it is one of the worst defeats the French have ever endured.
I try to locate the WW I section but instead end up in the WW II exhibit. It has been re-furbished recently and is very well done in spite of all the attention given to Charles DeGaulle. I never do find the WW I exhibit. This gives me another excuse to return to Paris. My energy is flagging badly so I head for the museum restaurant for beers and baguettes. Tom soon joins me and we take a well-deserved break.
Next stop is Rodin Museum which is a short distance away in what was once the Hotel Biron, where Rodin lived and had his studio when he was in Paris. Tom, who prefers sculpture to paintings, is blown away, particularly by the gardens where so many of Rodin�s works are placed. While I am wandering the Gardens, the skies open wide with a steady and heavy downpour. I take shelter under the eaves of an outbuilding where I meet a very interesting British couple on a long weekend in Paris. She�s from Hexham which I had visited while walking Hadrian�s Wall. I decide to make a run for the main building He offers to cover me with his umbrella but our effort fails miserably and we both get soaked.
As you can imagine, the museum is packed with steamy people staying out of the rain. The museum itself is interesting but stuffy and humid. I�m now so tired I don�t enjoy it as much as I could. I find Tom and we leave as soon as the rain lets up.
We first try to get a beer at a nearby cafe but the place is seriously overcrowded and understaffed. We decide to move on when the lone waitress drops a tray full of wine and beer.
We get back to our �neighborhood� and visit a French pub complete with dart boards and warm beer. It doesn�t work very well, though, because the bartenders are not playing their roles as pub owners. Tom and I decide to play a game to try to coax them out of their Gallic indifference. We finally see a smile around the ever present burning cigarette hanging from the lips of one of them. I love people who fit my stereotypes. That way I can feel smart about my ability to read people no matter where I am. By the way, on the indifference scale, Parisians are no better or worse than New Yorkers.
We ask the night clerk, an expatriate Brit, for a restaurant recommendation. All he wants to do is tell us really bad jokes. Lucky for you, I can�t remember any of them so I can�t repeat them here. He does come up with a great recommendation, though, The Rose Blue (That�s in translation, obviously).
It's Friday the 13th but we are undaunted. We are up in plenty of time for breakfast, not a gourmet adventure but satisfying, nevertheless. We are in a hurry to get to the Louvre.
Whenever I think of the Louvre, I am always reminded of a Thai friend who was in Paris on a five day tour.. This was her first trip so the next time I saw her, my first question was, "What did you think of The Louvre?" She replied that she hadn't visited the Louvre. I was aghast.
"Why not?" I blurted out. "How could you not visit the world's greatest art museum?"
She explained that the group she was with had limited time and had to choose between shopping and visiting the Louvre. They chose shopping. Maybe I don't get it because I'm a man but shopping over visiting the Louvre? Incroyable!!!
We ride the Metro and surface near the Palais Royale, home of the Cultural Ministry. As usual, we get confused and can�t find an entrance into the museum. We finally discover a side entrance used by school groups and such and enter the courtyard. We are impressed. The exterior of what was once the home of the Kings of France blows us away. We rush in without waiting in line, thanks to our Museum Pass. Since we have different agendas, we agree to meet in four hours. Four hours? Not enough time to see one-fifth of what�s available. I take off to see the History of the Louvre but the exhibit is closed. I then decide to do the three biggies first, Mona Lisa, Winged Victory of Samothhrace and Venus de Milo. I walk past more masterpieces on my way to the Mona Lisa than I�ve ever seen in my lifetime. What a place?
The queue is quite long and at best I get two or three minutes in front of the painting. I read recently that the museum now has a refurbished, special room, the Salle des Etats, for the Mona Lisa, so I�m sure things are better and the viewing is less troublesome. At least I get to see the painting. When it was on exhibit in the early 70�s at the National Galleries in Washington, I tried to view it and the crush was so great that I never got close enough to actually see any detail. I would have needed binoculars to study it. This experience is a definite improvement.
(Continued)
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