We had a fantastic time in Paris last weekend, Marie and I.
We left late on Friday night and took the TGV (quite rightly the envy of the world, what a fantastic train system) from Avignon to the Gare de Lyon where a (what extravagance!) taxi whisked us to the famous (round here, anyway) Thoumieux restaurant and hotel. I love it dearly, as regular readers will know, and won't stay anywhere else in Paris now.
Saturday we spend doing the shops, which was a lot of fun; Les Halles, the streets around the Beaubourg and then back to the hotel for a shower and dinner.
Which, as always, is Just Top Stuff: the fresh foie gras, this time served over fresh raspberries; the confit de canard; the 18 month old Cantal cheese; the crème brulée. I choose a Petit Chablis to start with and then we have a 2001 Mercurey; I should have gone with my original instincts, a white Mercurey to start and then something meatier for the main course, perhaps a Crozes Hermitage.
Still. A Cohiba to finish and it's barely all we can do to stagger upstairs afterwards; I tell you, fine dining is a fatiguing business.
Sunday and we head on out to La Villette and the Science City built on the site of the '50s abattoir that never was - it was finished on almost exactly the same day that refrigerated transport was invented, making it unnecessary to have to kill animals so close to the city centre.
But the area is still surrounded by butcher's shops and, after a not inconsiderable search, we find a café for a grande crème and a croissant before we face the rigours of the exhibition - and the pathetic telling-off the ticket office manager gives Marie for buying tickets for the wrong day. Petty bureaucrats rule.
The exhibition is for a French cartoonist with whom I'm only slightly familiar, Franquin and his characters Spirou, Gaston La Gaffe, le Chat Dingue and the seagull Rieuse. BDs, Bandes Dessinnées are taken much, much more seriously in France than in the UK. Adults devour them as if they were the new novel from Iain Banks and you have to book in advance to get to see this expo. It's being held in the science museum because Gaston is a great inventor, and the exhibition is filled with life-sized models of his inventions - a boxing-glove chair, the Gastophone which makes the world's most horrible noise, a VERY cool car. I promise to read more of these BDs, and mean it.
This afternoon it's the Musée d'Orsay in the old railway station - what a fantastic building this is, simply stunning. The expo we've come to see is New York et l'art moderne. Alfred Stieglitz et son cercle (1905-1930). We'd expected to see lots of Stieglitz's photos of early New York, but there aren't that many in fact. More interesting are the early films he made of the birth of the greatest city of the 20th century and well worth a visit.
Tonight we slob out in front of the TV and eat Domino's Pizza while watching Urgences; yeah, well, bite me.
Monday we spend the day at the Beaubourg and the highlight of the day for me is visiting Brancusi's Atelier. Wow. Really amazing. They've - or rather, Renzo Piano has reconstructed the interior of his studio with glass walls so you can see inside. It looks tidier than it probably was when he was working but it's simply amazing to see so many of his works all in one place; I'm a big fan of his Bird In Flight series, and seeing several of them all at once is worth the trip to Paris on its own.
Then we go to see the Sons & Lumières Une histoire du son dans l'art du XXe siècle, which is interesting if a little forced at times. The movies at the end are the best, we decide, of some 'happenings' - like, the pianist who walks onto stage, bows, puts a vase of flowers on the piano, bows and walks out again. Or the violinist trio who set fire to their music. That sort of stuff - very good.
The Collection of Contemporary Art we visit in the afternoon at the Beaubourg is interesting but pales into comparison with what we saw in February at the Saatchi gallery; those boys have a really interesting collection which isn't hampered by the need to have something from everyone who's perceived to be important.
We try to have a cup of tea and slice of cake in the Beaubourg's top-floor café to finish off, but it appears that the only choices available from the staff are either total indifference or Fuck Off, so we do. Frankly, if I ran a restaurant and someone walked up to me and said, "I'm leaving because I've been waiting for 15 minutes and have been ignored by all your staff," I wouldn't reply, "OK then." If I found one of my staff saying this, I'd fire them on the spot. But then I don't run a snooty French caff so what do I know? Instead we have a hot chocolate and a pancake in the Crêperie Beaubourg just across the square where the water sculptures live, and very friendly, warm and welcoming it is too.
Then back onto the TGV and Avignon for midnight. Up again and to work tomorrow at 0630. Oh, well. New job to look forward too anyway.
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