Saturday, 3/22/03
Today we saw a grand total of six things: the Musee Picasso, Musee Rodin, Arc de Triomphe, Eiffel Tower, Moulin Rouge, and Sacre Coeur. This morning I was extremely proud of myself for getting up at 8 and working on my project. Valerie and Carmen didn't get up until nearly 10. So, without much ado, we set out for Musee Picasso, stopping at many stops on the way and out of the way to get a decent breakfast. The milk I got this morning tasted a lot better than yesterday's, but the bottle was bigger, so I ended up having to throw some away because I couldn't drink any more before it spoiled. We all had delicious raisin pastries. I had no idea they would be so light and delicate.
The Picasso museum was very interesting. It showed the evolution of his work very well, and I really enjoyed seeing how good his realistic portraits were. As far as cubism goes, all of them are fascinating, but I prefer the much more abstract and jumbled pieces to those where you can blatantly see how he has distorted the body. My favorite is still "The Poet" at the Guggenheim Venezia. And I discovered today that what I wrote about Cezanne's work has further significance. The way in he sectioned off the colors in his landscapes made him a forerunner to cubism. I find that fascinating. I'm getting where I can recognize a particular painter's work (if I know them) on sight. It's really exciting.
Next we went to Rodin, sculptor of "The Kiss" and "The Thinker". After being so passionately in love with Bernini's perfection it was hard to switch modes so I could admire Rodin. Apparently he didn't care so much about the perfect physical form as the freedom of artistic expression. A lot of his sculptures still seem to melt in with the block of marble and not fully take form. My favorite was "The Thinker". Rodin is very good at conveying emotions and that was one of the few strong emotional ones that wasn't also very sensual. There were a few really shocking sculptures. Roden must have been obsessed with Balzac; he had a room full of sculptures of him. Maybe it was the round belly. But he also did one of Victor Hugo, and one of Mozart. We ate lunch in the sculpture garden.
We wanted to see the Eiffel Tower at sunset so we went to the Champs-Elysses to see the Arc de Triomphe. That was probably the biggest disappointment because we didn't want to pay to go inside, but you couldn't walk under the arch without paying either the busy road was a grand barrier for the underground entrance. There was nothing but shops, or should I say stores stores stores, for shops are small and cozy and more market like. Anyway, there was nothing else to do, so we went ahead to the Tower.
Sunday, 3/23/03
Carmen has had a lifelong dream to go to the top of the Eiffel Tower. She said that when she was little, her uncle said he was going to tickle her to death and she screamed, "No! I haven't been to Paris yet!" Valerie thought it was a ripoff and decided not to go up. The Eiffel Tower may only be an enormously tall flagpole, but, like the Mona Lisa, it is an ICON. It was the center piece for the 18-something world's fair and, unlike a lot of those types of buildings, it wasn't torn down. So I didn't think the €10 was a ripoff, so much as I just didn't want to pay the money. So I decided not to go up, also. Valerie and I laid in the grass at the foot of the tower, enjoying the sun and discussing musicals and movies, while Carmen had a single romantic adventure of her own.
After an hour or so, we drifted back to where we were supposed to meet Carmen. I was hungry by that time, and so I went off to find a sandwich, while Valerie waited for Carmen. On the way I proved myself a true, genuine, authentic IDIOT! As I was walking by (really fast, mind you) a group of caricature artists, one started calling me and when I said "No" he grabbed my arm and asked some more. I said, "I don't have any money." He said, "I will draw you just for an example. You don't have to buy it if you don't want to." I should've known he was lying through his teeth when he started complementing me on my beauty. Sometimes I can be pretty, but definitely not when I haven't had clean clothes for a week, my hair is pulled back and frizzy, and the Paris pollution gave me a huge breakout. I told him I didn't have any time. He said it would only take two minutes. Why was I so vulnerable? I can just walk straight past other street vendors with only a shake of the head. I should have wrenched my arm out of his grasp and given him a death look. But what do I do? I sit for him.
First of all, the caricature was not that good. It didn't even look like me. But when he started personalizing it with my name and the places I'd been, I knew it was going to be hard getting out of this situation. He first said he would sell it to me for €40. I didn't understand, I wondered if he meant cents, even knowing that was way too cheap. I kept saying no, and finally he lowered it to €5, telling me it was his job and he had to make money. I kept saying that he told me it would be for an example. Heck no, I wasn't going to buy it. I just felt extremely stupid for letting myself get into that situation in the first place. That's my worst memory of the entire week.
I walked on the other side of the street, next to the river on my way back to the Tower. Next we decided to go see the Moulin Rouge. It had a very classy exterior, but was over a hundred to get in. Not that I even wanted to.
Next we set out to see another building near there, what we thought was a mosque by the look on the postcards I'd seen. I had the map, as usual, and was having a bit of trouble reading the winding roads. Valerie and Carmen weren't too keen on seeing it. I don't know why. Finally, we found the Sacre Coeur and it turned out to be a Catholic church after all. It was absolutely beautiful, though we can't figure out why it was such an un-Christianesque architecture. After that we got on the Metro, had to switch like 3 lines, and got back to the hotel. I woke up before C & V this morning and finished my entire project except for text and copying. I'll have to wait for Castiglion to do that.
I had a scare last night. I lost my tape, in Scotland, I guess. I was so mad I wanted to explode. It takes more effort not to swear, these days. Luckily the nice man at the hotel desk had some scotch handy.
Why did the pigeon cross the road?
It was too fat to fly, for fear it would explode.
We're sitting in the grass at the bus parking lot, waiting for a bus to take us back to the airport. Trouble is, we don't know when the bus will be here. So, we just wait. We checked out of the hotel at noon, but the nice Asian man let us leave our luggage in the office for the day. I don't remember if I mentioned this earlier, but I won the "packing lightest" award, probably for girls and guys. I only have my one backpack. Now I'm carrying around a heavy grocery bag too, awkward especially now that it's hot outside and my jacked it stuffed in it.
We walked to the Place de Bastille, stopping on the way to get food. Valerie and I got these delicious raisin strudels. It was crispy and flaky on the outside, but nice in the middle. Well, there really isn't much at the past site of the Bastille except the Opera Bastille, which we wouldn't enter. But near there is the Maison de Victor Hugo, which I wanted to see. We spent a while searching for it, and stumbled upon the Place des Vosges. It took me forever to figure out that the Hugo house is actually on the corner of the square, and V & C were tired and apathetic so I went in alone. It was just a nce house that Hugo had lived in for a number of years, but it had some of his sketches, paintings other artists had done on his novels, and even a couple of Rodin's sculptures of Hugo. My favorite piece was a plaster sculpture of Cosette carrying the water bucket; it brought tears to my eyes. The museum would have been a whole lot more enlightening had I been able to read the French descriptions.
Next we took the Metro to the Pompidou center, or tried to. The line ended up being closed so we wasted a ticket and had to walk. It was interesting. I didn't want to go inside and just wanted to see the outside to say I'd seen it. I took a picture of one side and was on my way around to the other when I came upon the Fontaine Stravinsky, which I didn't know existed. But I immediately recognized it from Sabrina (the 1995 one). It was the moving sculptures that blow water, like the giant lips and treble clef, to name a few. Then in the shop next door they were playing "The Old Ways", by Loreena McKennitt. I had to go in and mutter along.
I forgot to mention that at the Place des Vosges there was a gypsy-like group, 8 to 10 people who were playing "If I were a rich man". That brought tears to my eyes and I couldn't stop smiling. I wanted to dance. The, on the other side, was a cellist playing a Bach cello concerto that I've heard YoYo Ma perform.
So we walked back from the Pompidou center (after getting ice cream) and when we got to the hotel the man was arguing with someone in French over the telephone. It was so funny because when we got our bags he turned around from yelling and said something like, "Is everything okay? Do you know how to use the subway?" etc, with a nice smile. He kind of scared us the first evening with his earnestness to make us comfortable, but we love him now.
Where, oh where, can our bus be?
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