Ciao Roma. David's Compleano

David and Carmine.  Way better trees in Rome than Paris!

 Paolo

I am in Rome now.  David and I flew Air France this afternoon.   We had his birthday lunch in Paris and his dinner was here in Rome at the home of his good friend's Carmine and Paolo.



What an excellent fest it was!  Elizabeth, another ex-pat American made a cheesecake as David's fave desserts are American.  And it was excellent.

Carmine made the rest of the meal: lasagne, two kinds of meat balls, fennel and orange salad, and coffee and dates and figs. Lovely.

I met Fabrizio and Benedetto as well as Tanno and Mima the two lovely big dogs.

David deserves a grand birthday because he is such a nice person.  It was clear that a lot of people love him and he has very wonderful friends in Rome who take good care of him.  I have to say it makes me happy to see that!

Musée d'Orsay

I felt guilt at not coming back here this trip. I didn't seem to for the Louvre, but somehow here. So I got back here on my last day in Paris this trip and surrounded myself with art that was both moving and woeful.  And all in the most magnificent train station cum museum in the monde!  

I have to say I think of my sister Seona when I am here. I think she would love it. 


It is such a French place to be in so many ways.  Duh, it is in France, but it is somehow more than that.



Such a bummer that they are doing improvements. I say this selfishly as I was not able to walk out and look over the Seine which is part of being at Musée d'Orsay for me. But nonetheless seeing Vincent and those Courbet's!  Wow, those Courbet's!   They were amazing.  I am moved.  I am sad. I had to leave.

Le Flâneur

Paris.  Many people have written about this city. And, of course.  It just takes you.  I often felt that Hawaii was lost becuase it was overrun with tourists, but I found there was still paradise to be found there. The same for Paris. It is crazy popular, but it has a nook and a cranny for every soul who seeks it out.   You know in this city that it is only yours to lease and you will move on and be dead, but Paris will stay and mesmerize others after you.  This in itself tells me to enjoy every crepe-y second I can have here when it is still mine.

I headed out early this morning and strolled through the Marais as the vendors were just setting up. Then I went across the Pont Neuf and stood on the very tip of the Ile de la Cité as if it were my own discovery.  No one else was there and I was standing in the middle of the Seine.  In-Seine I tell you!

 

I then walked around St-Germain-des-Prés and ended up at the Musée d'Orsay.    All on my own. With myself in the middle of the virbrant city that has hosted centuries of me's.

Brasserie Bofinger

For our last night in Paris, David and I went to Bofinger, probably the oldest brasserie in Paris and right in our neighborhood in the Bastille.   My friend Phil recommended it and he and Helga go there when en Pareeee. 

It is a beautiful place and evokes the belle epoque quite readily.  The food was good. I especially enjoyed David's streak tartare.  And the seafood platters (next time I go with someone who likes to share something as beautiful and seafoody as this!) were gorgeous.

The waiters were the cliche Frenchiest we had in Paris so far.  Meaning: SO not nice and just could care less. That was a shame.  And here I tried so hard.  Oh well.

Thanks Phil. All was great except for the total disdain of the waiters.  Would go back, but dressed as a French person.

It never dawned on me, but it is SO not pronounced "BO-finger" but rather "Bo-fawn-zhay."  I love saying it ten times fast now.  It is like giving your mouth a personal massage.

Today's Bad Christmas Tree in Paris

Surely this tree at the Conciergerie where they imprisoned people before they chopped their heads off should have lost its noggin.  This pathetic arbre is surrounded by Reynold's wrap masking a "decorative" and topped with something akin to Mrs. Claus's panties which got flung from a campsite after an outdoor assignation.

Truly scary.

La Conciergerie, Paris. Not a Place to Be.

Today we went to the Conciergerie on the Île de la Cité, the island in the middle of the Seine where Notre Dame is. The Conciergerie is a medieval palace that became a prison.   Loads of prisoners were sent here and then to the to guillotine in the French Revolution.





Marie Antoinette was here in this room (reproduction, but tapestry was her real rug they think.) That is not actually her, but a stack of exercise balls covered with a black tarp to look like her.





Just like the extensive list of people who came through Ellis Island, here are names of the people who simply lost their heads during this revolution.  Did not see my family name there.

The funniest thing was the bathroom here at this way-station for decapitation. Both male and female figures have their heads missing on the toilette door!

Dejeuner

Lovely aubergine (eggplant) and black sesame seed starter at Zen Garden, Paris