Haircuts and Flames

11 April 2008

After housework this morning (the one and only disadvantage of renting a flat) we took a bus right through the city to the Pont d'Alma. This ride took us down the famous Avenue Montaigne. We've told you about it in the past;surely the most chic street in Paris with its dozens of high fashion shops. Let me put it this way; you can go the length of the street admiring the goods (particularly clothes) in the windows and never, never see anything as mundane as a price tag. It is all POA! At the Pont d'Alma there is a model of a flame identical to the one on the Statue of Liberty in New York Harbour. Because it is right above the place in the tunnel where Diana was killed, it has become a sort of shrine. Personally, I think it lowers the significance of the flame (i.e. Emma Lazurus' poem which I am probably misquoting: "Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free/The wretched refuse of your teeming shore, send these, the homeless tempest-tost to me/I lift my lamp beside the golden door").

We then walked up the Avenue Georges Cinq. There were some roadworks and we had to cross the street. A very handsome policeman stepped forward and asked Virginia if she would like him to stop the traffic for her. How could she refuse? So, accompanied by Paris' finest we crossed the road. I am afraid I am in trouble as I suggested that he probably would have helped any elderly person across and it had nothing to do with her manifold, innate charm. Whatever the case it was a very nice gesture on a busy six-lane street. And, I might add, Madame was "chuffed" for the rest of the day convinced she had brought Paris' notorious traffic to a halt with charm alone. Ooh-la-la!

Quite by chance, walking up the Avenue, we came across the American Cathedral where our friend Winky volunteers a couple of days a week on the welcome desk. Although fairly new; only built at the end of the nineteenth century, it is quite magnificent and very welcoming.
Because Virginia had a 2.30 appointment to have her hair done (another challenge) we set out to return to our neighbourhood. At the bus stop, we were approached by a very pleasant young Italian couple, trying to find their way to exactly where we were going and so with a mixture of French, Italian and English we were able to see that they got where they intended. We pointed out the sights on the way and Virginia, later in the afternoon, against all odds, ran into the couple again who were very grateful and thanked her for the information which had allowed them to have a wonderful day exploring the 18th Arrondisement.

In the meantime, before Virginia's hair appointment we made our way to the Place de Tertre and had a very nice lunch in one of the tourist restaurants. We walked back down (Virginia has counted 192 steps down on one ocassion and 191 on another). We will check this out since we are sure that there is little else about Paris that you want to know nearly as much as the number of steps from the Place de Tertre to Rue Caulaincourt!

From the windows of your flat we can see right down into the window of the local hair-dresser. Virginia finally got up the courage to make an appointment to have her hair cut. It is much more formal than in Hobart. They took her coat, offered her tea or coffee, assured her that everything was hygienic and then offered her a range of products; natural, perfumed, bio-degradabled or eco-friendly. It was quite different and she noticed that all the magazines were recent. After initial nervousness, she enjoyed the experience; listening to the language as the women talked amongst themselves in an intimate salon setting. And, most importantly, she got quite a nice haircut.

The Louvre, The Seine and a "Wedding Cake"

10 April 2008

Today it got to 17C; a virtual heatwave and the first spring-like day since leaving Australia! We nearly sweltered but managed to survive.

For my 70th birthday, Janet, Vince and the girls gave me two tickets to the Louvre and today I used the first one. The museum is so vast it is impossible to do it all in one or two days so I decided to spend today looking at French art. Although the nineteenth century is not terribly well represented, there are a number of lovely works including a fair number by Sisley but what took my eye, more than any other, was a much earlier painting, early seventeenth century, called "The Cheater" by Georges La Tour. It is a picture of a young man cheating at cards and it is obvious that the woman in the picture is well aware that he is cheating. As you can see in the picture, he holds a card behind his back and she is rolling her eyes upward, clearly in disbelief.

The Cheater

While I was admiring French paintings, Virginia was admiring French grammar. On the advise of her French friend in Hobart she went to Librairie Gibert Joseph on Boulevard St Michel. I thought she was going off to look at clothes or shoes but no, Virginia's passion is French grammar. Boy, can she conjugate those irregular French Verbs! This shop is situated right in the centre of the student quarter and is seven floors of books of every description. Virginia would probably have spent longer in the quarter, but there was a student protest and while it was probably just being rowdy, she felt uncomfortable enough to move on.

We actually went into the city centre on the same bus and then separated to go our own ways. Riding on the buses is very interesting. Buses do have designated places to stop but because of traffic they are often at a standstill in the street. If someone comes up and bangs on the door it is usually opened so they can board. On board, no matter how crowded, people tend to help one another. For example, yesterday a woman with a baby in a stroller was getting off and the stroller started to pitch forward. Several people both aboard the bus and in the street grabbed the stroller to keep the child from tipping out.

Strollers are common on buses. This is because most Parisians live in apartments and do their shopping locally (there are no shopping malls here). People in the cities in Europe live upward rather than outward because of the high density which allows the cities to take up a smaller geographical area. Either people do not have cars or realise it would be impractical to use them in the city. The buses (and the Metro) are used by the very young and the very old. Because the Metro often requires maneuvering up and down great numbers of steps, the buses are the preferred mode of travel.

The apartments in which people live may, in the more modern or more expensive areas have elevators, but many do not. Our building, for example, is six stories high and there is no elevator. Last year we met an elderly couple sitting on the stairs and the woman said to Virginia J'ascende lentement. Stores here do deliver and this is, of course, a great help to those who have to maneuvre a child up six flights of narrow stairs or who are elderly and cannot carry shopping that far.

We discovered one problem with the apartments and the security which took us quite by surprise. Coming home we could not get into the building. All efforts failed. Then we realised there was a power failure. Fortunately one of our neighbours saw us and came down to open the doors for us. Just as we got in, the power came back on.

View of the Seine

Before going to the Louvre, I walked along the river and as always, ejoyed it immensely. Certainly there is no reason to ever be bored in Paris when one can stroll along the bank of the Seine. The bookstalls were open and doing a thriving business, the river was full of boats and the views were spectacular.

After leaving the Louvre I caught the Metro back to Abbesses and walked to the funicular so I could catch it to the top of Sacre-Coeur. It is a very short ride, but better than walking to the top. I wandered around and took some photographs before coming home. the Basilique du Sacre-Coeur is very photogenic, but I have to confess it does little for me. I am inclined to the view of one Parisian who described it as "a lunatic's confectionery dream." Virginia describes it as a wedding cake gone mad. It derives its name from what the devout believe is Christ's sacred heart in the crypt. If the Basilica itself does not impress, the view over Paris from the front of the building must.

Sacre Ceour

Bread Rolls and Trains

9 April 2008

With Will and Philly's wedding coming up, we tend to see things that might otherwise not take our attention to the same degree. Today, on the way to the bus to go to Gare du Nord, we passed an Artisan Boulangerie and in the window was the latest (I'm not quite sure what one would call it) fashion accessory; bread rolls with the name of the guest baked into it. These are used for place-settings and can, of course, be eaten by the appropriately named guest. I suppose they could be eaten by any guest, but that would hardly be cricket!

As I wrote on Sunday, one of the places near Paris that we want to visit is Aubers sur Oise where Van Gogh spent the last months of his life and where there is currently an exhibition of Impressionists. Last time we went down to find out about all of this, it was too busy, but today we were able to buy our tickets and this weekend we will be heading off on a special direct train. After a couple of weeks here Virginia has gotten her ear in and is happily having conversations with people in shops and at bus stops. She queued up at the ticket counter at Gare du Nord and jabbering away in French soon had not only the tickets but a detailed explanation as to which line and the platform from which it departed. Having now mastered the Metro, the RER and the bus line, we are moving on to bigger and better things; the trains! Well, admittedly this is only about an hour out of Paris, but it is on the train.

I, on the other hand, struggle to make myself understood. Yesterday I went into the chemist to buy some enteric coated 100mg aspirin. In the end, it played out like a comedy of errors and I discovered that the only thing here in 100mg aspirin is powders; definitely not what I was after. I'm not quite sure where I go from here, but probably will find some way of managing. As I said to Virginia, "I do not do powders!" Virginia claims that I have a very good, albeit limited, ability in French. I have never had, according to her, any trouble getting exactly the cake that I want at the Boulangerie.

It was probably one of the coldest days we have had here. It was gray and overcast and at mid-day the temperature was only 2C. Compare this with the temperature last year (this blog covers the last two years as well as this one).

Monsieur continues to frequent Chez Yang, the Chinese restaurant across from us and even as I write (it is exactly 7.30pm) he arrives as he does at this time every night. Despite our many theories, he remains an enigma. Is he a former priest? Is he a part owner of the restaurant? One thing is certain, he is a man of habit. As to anything else, we leave it to your imagination.

Cars, Hoardings and Saint Germain en Laye

8 April 2008

Today we went to the lovely little town of Saint Germain en Laye which is about thirty minutes from the Arc de Triomphe on the RER. The town is a nice mix of the modern and the historic. As soon as you get off the train and come up the escalator to street level you see a magnificent 14th century chateau which is now a museum but from which there are views over the Seine valley towards Paris. Saint Germain en Laye is a lively market town and we were fortunate enough to be there while the market was in progress.

The town and surrounding area have many old buildings and in recent years it has become a very swanky suburb for the bourgeoise. If you have a spare 1.5 million euro, you can find a very nice flat here.

After wandering around and having a bit of lunch, we returned to the Arc de Triomphe from where we strolled down the Champs Elysee. A visit to the tomb of the unknown soldier is always very moving and today was no exception. As always, there were flowers on the tomb and it was, of course, treated with the respect that it warrants.

On previous trips we have always been amused by the Toyota dealership which invariably features something new and unique from the imagination of their designers. These are not necessarily ever going to be produced for consumers, but they are always interesting and different. See the photo for what the rich French boys might be getting at Christmas if Pere Noel finds their behaviour up to the mark.

As we wandered along we looked down a side street and saw what appeared to be the most peculiar building. You can see a picture of it to the right. In fact, it is the painted hoardings behind which construction is going on.

In Paris this is an art form in its own right. Some years ago, when work was being done on the building housing Louis Vuiton, the whole front was covered in a hoarding painted to resemble a suitcase! Needless to say, that pales by comparison to this latest work.

Some of you may recall our last visit to the Avenue Montaigne. This is perhaps the classiest shopping street in Europe with prices to match. Virginia wants to go there tomorrow and she is talking about what she will need to wear at Will's wedding. I keep telling her that my American Express card has reached its expiry date, but she assures me that she can use my Visa card just as effectively. I keep suggesting that I can photograph the fashions she likes and we can have them made up for a fraction of the cost in Singapore on the way home. Such suggestions are greeted with a raised eyebrow and what can only be described as a look of scorn. Ah well, c'est la vie.

Rallies and Rings

7 April 2008

Another very cold day. The thermometer in the window announced that it was below zero at 8.00 this morning. We had a few things we needed to do; go to the Singapore Airlines office and the Australian Embassy.

In line with our policy of travelling by bus when possible in order to see more of the city, we set off for our first task. On the way we noticed a poster in the bus telling us that the Carte Orange will be phased out shortly and that in its place we will have to have the Navigo. Damn, just as we got comfortable with the Carte!

The bus took us to within twenty metres of the Singapore Airlines office and after we were buzzed in (a bit like a jewelry shop), we worked out the arrangements to get the seats we wanted for the return trip to Singapore and on to Australia. The woman who helped us was a charming red-haired lass from Ireland; the same young woman who had helped us last year and whether she remembered us or not, she said she did which was rather nice.

Another bus was to take us to the Australian Embassy, but because of the arrival of the Olympic Torch at the Eiffel Tower, the bus was re-routed. We wound up walking through the Champs de Mars toward the Seine. Interestingly there is a new scam this year. In clear view of us a man bent over and appeared to pick up a gold ring. He then approached us to ask if we had perhaps dropped it. We said "no," and were interested to have the same thing done to us on two other occasions, one in a completely different part of the city. Three gold rings in one day - how's your luck?
Of course the walk gave us wonderful opportunities to admire the Eiffel Tower and take pictures. It really is a brilliant example of steel lacework.

We avoided the Eiffel Tower because not only was the torch arriving, there was a very large and rowdy demonstration against the human rights abuses in China. We read that the same thing happened in London yesterday. We finally got to the Australian Embassy where we were buzzed through one of those double entry systems similar to the ones we had experienced both at Singapore Airlines, the Shoa Memorial and every bank we went into. Virginia has seen this level of security every since the IRA troubles in the '70s, but it is well beyond anything we experience regularly in Australia. It is especially surprising in banks since many do not have cash except through the automatic teller machines.

The Australian Embassy was very welcoming; not surprisingly since we seemed to be the only people other than employees in the huge complex. We are not complaining, however, since we were able to get warm, use the toilets and read Australian newspapers. My one complaint was that their library seemed to be composed of business books and cheap second-hand works. I was most upset to discover they did not have the Historical Records of Australia. Canberra please note this deficiency! On the other hand there was a very good photographic exhibition (Max Dupain) and some nice Aboriginal art. We also thought that the lack of information on visiting Australia was unfortunate. There was plenty on studying in Australia but we didn't see any promotional material aimed at the tourist trade.

Snow, Crepes and Parking

6 April 2008

If anything, the weather was colder than predicted with flurries of snow in the late afternoon. Your intrepid travellers, knowing no fear, bundled up and went about their daily rounds. One of the places near Paris that we want to visit is Aubers sur Oise where Van Gogh spent the last months of his life of his life and where he is buried. Aubers sur Oise is just over an hour out of Paris but is outside the range of the RER even though it is still in the Isle de France. It is usually necessary to change trains to get there, but we noticed an advertisement saying that during April there would be direct trains because of a special exhibition of Impressionists. Anyway we went down to Gare du Norde to find out about tickets and train schedules forgetting it was a Sunday and that the station would be extremely busy in the morning so we had to abandon that for another day.

Virginia and I had been lusting after one of the crepes that are made in street stalls as well as in restaurants. In the afternoon, braving the rain which had begun to fall, we went to the top of Montmartre. Needless to say it was as packed with tourists as usual and despite the weather the entertainers and "artists" were doing their best to earn a quid (oops, euro). Virginia had a crepe citron and I had one with creme de marron. Eating a crepe while standing in the rain holding an umbrella is no mean feat, but we did our best and other than spilling some of the fillings on our clothes made "a mouthful" of it.
In the evening we made our way across to the sixteenth for dinner with Winky and Sandy and two of their other friends. It was a delightful evening; good conversation, good food and the evening passed all too quickly. The temperature was dropping and by the time we headed home it was bitterly cold. We changed from our bus to the Metro at the Place de la Concorde and it was already beginning to snow.

I know we've talked about the parking in Paris before and undoubtedly it is a very creative exercise. The notion that the middle of an intersection is not a good place to park has not yet crossed the minds of most Parisian drivers. And, of course, there is always the corner where you can pull "nose-in" when you can't find anyplace else!

In the middle of the night we woke and out of the window we could see 7-10 inches of snow on the car tops in our street. And thus ends another day in Paris.

The Eiffel Tower, Books and Acquaintances

5 April 2008

When Virginia was at school here last year she met a woman called "Winky" (short for Winifred). An American who lives here in Paris with her partner, Sandy. Virginia has kept in touch with them ever since and we are invited to dinner there tomorrow night. They live in the 16th Arrondisement which is not well known to us. Today we did a trial run of how to get there and after taking our local line of the Metro to Place de la Concorde we switched to the bus. Line 72 takes you along the banks of the Seine with views to die for and if you want pictures of the Eiffel Tower, this is the way to get them.

Unfortunately, half way to our destination the bus broke down and we were all sent up to the next bus stop to wait for a replacement which came after about fifteen minutes. You can say what you want about public transport, but in Paris it is frequent; bone-jarring at times, but frequent. Anyway, where we broke down provided a perfect opportunity for even more pictures of the Eiffel Tower!

We eventually got to our destination, where we will be going for dinner tomorrow, and a whole new area of Paris opened up for us. After a brief wander around the neighbourhood we returned to the Rue de Rivoli where we had lunch and then spent some time looking for books in English at W. H. Smith's. Much to our joy, one of our favourite authors, Donna Leon, has just published a new work which we are now fighting over since each of us wants to be the first to read it. Virginia, however, had the most telling argument since she had paid for it!

Back on the Metro to our Internet Cafe so we could check e-mail, post the blog and start the process of booking accommodation for our brief stay in Singapore on the way back. And finally, home for the day. It turned wet and cold as we made our way home and tomorrow is going to be very cold and wet. The overnight forecast is for 3C with a high of 8C and rain throughout the day. It is all quite different from last year when the summer had set in and we had temperatures in the 30s.

4 April 2008

In addition to the Metro system which serves much of central Paris, there is the RER which is the regional express system. The RER passes through the heart of Paris but is designed to serve the suburbs. It interconnects with the Metro but is useful if you intend to go outside the metropolitan area.

Today we went to Versailles but not to the Palace. Even so, we've just run across a lovely description of the Palace (in Frommer's Paris 2008) which is too good not to include:

Back in the grand siecle (the 17th century), all you needed was a sword, a hat, and a bribe for the guard at the gate. Provided you didn't look as if you had smallpox, you'd be admitted to the Chateau de Versailles, where you could stroll through salon after glittering salon--watching the Sun King rise--and dress and dine and do even more intimate things while you gossiped, danced, plotted, flirted and trysted.

Well, since Bruce had forgotten his sword, we visited the town of Versailles and had a most enjoyable day wandering around. The trip from central Paris to Versailles takes only about thirty minutes and costs 5 euro 60 return. Admission to the Chateau is 13 euro 50 so for just under 20 euros you can have a day out at the Chateau de Versailles. This compares more than favourably with the approximately 70 euros charged by the tour companies! The Chateau is about a five minute walk from the train station. Feeling more confident every day we are now investigating some other side trips (not through tour companies!).

Versailles is very bourgeoise. Just look at the town hall, the Mairie! Being within easy commuting distance of Paris, it attracts an executive class. We were interested to note that the Damart shop, one of which can be found in Elizabeth Street, Hobart was very up-market. Somehow it did not have quite the same feel as the rather frumpy shop in Hobart. C'est la vie!

In the centre of Versailles there is a wonderful market which takes up the entire central square. It was in full swing when we were there just before lunch and it is primarily a food market. Such stalls of vegetables, meats, cheeses and poultry would be hard to imagine had we not seen them.
After a busy day out we decided on a quiet night in. Although we have only been here a week, it seems longer - in the best sense of the word. Probably that is because we have returned to the same neighbourhood and there is a feeling of comfortable familiarity now.

Afternoon Tea and the Postal Service

3 April 2008

One of the delights of being on holiday is that we get to sleep in a bit later and can take our time getting ready to face the world. Today, for example, we enjoyed the pure luxury of not getting out of bed until 9.00am which may not sound like much, but for us is practically the afternoon.
The last time we were in Paris we went to a nearby place and had mussels. While they were OK, they were not something to get really excited about. We were told, however, that if we liked mussels the place to go was Leons of Brussels, a chain specializing in this delightful mollusk. Lunch then found us waiting for mussels and they were every bit as good as they had been advertised.

We had two very "French" experiences today. The first was at our local post office from where Virginia, a few days ago, had sent a package to Australia as well as a number of postcards. The gentleman who served her was very kind and spent a good deal of time explaining all the details of such international transactions. But that was the other day! Today she had some more postcards to send and the woman on the counter simply dismissed her saying she would have to go to Le Tabac. There was no way she was going to serve Virginia and no apparent reason for this.

The second experience came in the form of an invitation to have afternoon tea with Monsier Vaucanson who, you will remember, held the spare key. We had actually gotten the key yesterday and with it came the invitation. Naturally it was impossible to refuse so, at 5.00 this afternoon we dutifully presented ourselves. The table was perfectly laid for three with serviettes, etc. all very formal. We actually spent a delightful hour although I had some difficulty since M. Vaucanson does not speak English and my French is pretty awful. Nonetheless it was very pleasant as we enjoyed brioche with our tea. M. Vaucanson est tres charmant!

Having had a hearty lunch and afternoon tea we went up to La Butte with the intention of walking back down which, in fact, we did. I don't need to mention that while there we stopped for a beer and a glass of wine respectively and managed to eat all of the "free" nuts while we watched the world go by for an hour! Quelle Horreur!

Food and La Bon Marche

2 April 2008

First thing this morning I went off to do the shopping which meant going to the fish shop and trying to explain in fractured Franglais that I wanted two nice pieces of Salmon for dinner. I must have gotten it right because I came home with the salmon! One of the joys of shopping in Paris is that while there are large grocery stores like Monoprix, there are also lovely little fromageries, charcuteries and boulangeries. We can get beautiful vegetables at any one of a number of greengrocers and, of course, we buy our bread fresh every day. Yesterday, for example, I was down at the boulangerie getting croissants au beurre at 8.00 am for our breakfast.

But today we went to one of the great department stores of Paris, Le Bon Marche. We took the bus which went through many of the best sights in Paris, including the area around the Louvre and the Musee d'Orsay. The store has a remarkable food hall which takes up one whole floor on one building. It is not as sumptuous as Harrods, but the prices are much more down to earch and it is the kind of place where one does not need to mortgage one's home for a kilo of cheese or a packet of biscuits.

Nonetheless, we must confess to dissapointment. As we wandered around we saw a section labelled "Australian." Needless to say our hope rose that here we would find that national icon and absolute requirement of travellers from the antipodes; Vegemite. No, no Vegemite. Bovril, yes; Marmite, yes; mais pas de Vegemite.

While we have been travelling we have been looking for a birthday gift for Amelia who is about to turn twelve and who told us she wanted a dressing gown. The dressing gowns for adult women are beautiful and provocative and those for small children, very cute, but there is a huge gap in the market for children between about the ages of 11 and 15 years. If someone out there could come up with an imaginative line in nightwear (as well as other clothes) for this age group they might well be on a winner.

We were also looking for cards for Amelia and had some real difficulty finding any. When I was in Monoprix I was amazed to see cards labelled "retard." "How offensive" I thought. While I am certainly not a person who could be characterized as "politically correct," this did seem a bit over the top to me. A couple of seconds later, it clicked. These were cards that were "slow" in remembering birthdays (i.e. late cards). So much for the vagaries of language!

After leaving La Bon Marche, we took the bus to the Rue de Rivoli where, on an earlier visit, we had seen some very imaginative ties and I found myself getting a couple so, when we are back in Hobart, look out for the Paris ties (actually made in Italy) that I will be wearing.


In the late afternoon, while Virginia was doing her e-mail, I went for a walk around the cemetery in Montmartre. One of the most interesting graves is that of Louise Weber, better known as La Goulue and a favourite model of Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec.

Books and Sagging Roofs

1 April 2008

Today is the first day of April and our Cartes d'Orange are good for the next month. We certainly got our value out of them today using them to go to the Alliance Francais and then back and later on the busses. All in all we had six trips which would normally have cost 1 euro 50 each so the Cartes look as if they will be very good value!

We decided to go and take a look at the Alliance Francais just in case seeing it would have the effect of changing Virginia's mind. We both found the place rather cold and unwelcoming which probably confirmed Virginia's sense that it was not for her. This trip she prefers to improve her spoken French and French culture in cafes, bars and brasseries around the city. After spending a short time at the Alliance we made our way to the San Francisco Book Company which is an English language book store specializing in paperbacks. It is small, but densely packed with books and we found a couple of things that we thought we might enjoy.

The walk to the bookshop takes one past the Luxembourg Gardens which are just coming into spring. They are utterly magnificent, and just across the street from the gardens we saw one of those wonderful little streets that are so characteristic of what Paris must have been like in the middle years of the nineteenth century.

Today we had lunch at a rather nice brasserie and were amazed at the size of the meals people have in the middle of the day. Three courses and wine seem to be the norm. For those who don't know it, the mid-day meal and the evening meal in restaurants are often exactly the same but significantly cheaper at lunch time. We, poor travellers from and ancient land, had lighter meals.

Just outside the brasserie on an island in the middle of the street was an open air sweet shop. Virgina felt right at home having been brought up in a sweet shop.

We came back via Abbesses which is a very pretty area and has some interesting architecture. One of our favourite buildings looks as if someone sat on the roof as it sags, rather dramatically, in the middle.

The rest of the day was pretty much taken up with household chores. Even in romantic Paris, the City of Lights, one still has to do one's washing and ironing!

Memorial de la Shoah

31 March 2008

Aside from a text message from Australia which woke us at 4.30 this morning, we slept well but the call guaranteed us an early start!

We ventured into the Marais district which is the centre for Jewish life in Paris today. On the way to the Holocaust Museum, we stopped to take in one of the many glorious old buildings in the area. This is the Hotel de Beauvais, built between 1656 and 1660. From there we walked on to our original destination, the Memorial de la Shoah, an absolutely amazing place.

We spent the morning at the Memorial. Although I had been there last year, Virginia had not and I wanted to go again. It is terribly moving and difficult to believe that human beings could do what was done to another group of people. I described the Memorial last year and won't repeat it, but certainly the pictures of the thousands of French children who were taken and killed is something impossible to forget.

Security to get in is intense. We were stopped some distance from the building and had our bags searched and were asked a number of questions. On entering the building we passed our bags through "airport" security and walked through a metal detector. Even when we left the building we went through a set of doors which locked behind us and only then could we open a second set which allowed us access to the street. If anything were to be allowed to happen to the Memorial, there would be absolute outrage.

After we left the Memorial, we walked along the Rue de Rivoli, stopping for a pleasant lunch at a bistro near the Hotel de Ville. Everybody (except us, of course) seems to eat desert. And what deserts; not only do they look delicious, they are works of art. It is actually quite interesting having lunch in the sort of cafe where ordinary, working Parisians take their mid-day meal. As we continued our walk we noticed racks of identical bicycles in several places. This is a new initiative to reduce the use of cars. For a very small fee (a couple of euros) you can take one of these bicycles from one location and drop it at another, using it all day if you so desire.

You may remember, if you followed this blog last year that Virginia attended language school in Paris. Being an adult educator she had some misgivings about her experience but decided this year she might attend the well-known Alliance Francais rather than a private school. Just before we left Australia she got cold feet about enrolling and said she would see what she felt like when we got to Paris. She was encouraged that the Alliance Francais is only ten stops down our local Metro line at Notre Dame des Champs. However, when we were travelling on that line today we noticed that the Metro stop she would need to get off at is closed until the end of June. Virginia has taken this to be a sign, an omen, that she does not need to attend school this year but will find other ways to improve her French language skills.

Our flat is one of forty in the building and there are a number of similar buildings in our street. This means that there is quite a bit of rubbish that needs to be collected and there is a daily collection. However, the bins are kept in the building and only tenants normally have access but, of course, the postman has partial access; at least to the lobby area. Garbage collectors have no access so the procedure is to have a private contractor who has access to many buildings. He comes around on his motor-bike every evening and takes the bins out to the street. We have yet to discover how they get back into the building! But be assured, Virginia is watching.

Chez Plumeau

30 March 2008

On our familiar walk down Rue Caulaincourt (18eme)we pass a number of estate agents. Today we noticed that one of these had digital displays of places being advertised. While the text remained constant, the images cycled through the various rooms; not unlike the digital frames for pictures which we've seen in Australia for the past few years. We thought it was a rather clever way of advertising, rather like an automatic Powerpoint presentation of property. Virginia was so taken with it that she was prepared to dash in and pay down on one of the apartments - until the price appeared and we decided that 700,000 euros for a bedsit was more than we could afford!

For lunch today we went to one of our favourite places, Chez Plumeau which is located just off the Place de Tertre in Montmartre. The restaurant is in a building that was once an inn and later a cabaret. In the past when we have dined there, it has been difficult getting a seat but we have always managed to dine on the terrace while being serenaded by a double-bass player. No such problem today! It is cold and teeming with rain and the fact that we were eating somewhat later meant that we had no problem getting a table. The double-bass player was absent from his usual place outdoors and we opted to dine inside in most salubrious surroundings.

Something that has always bothered us in France is how a nation so devoted to its gastronomy can smoke while eating - and believe us, they do. We have watched people puffing on cigarettes between bites of food. Well, Paris dining and drinking is now smoke free thanks to legislation and as non-smokers, we applaud this. The food tastes better and the whole atmosphere is far more pleasant. We might add that the same thing has taken place, as we mentioned in an earlier letter, in England.

Monsieur Vaucanson, a friend of the owner of the apartment in which we stay, holds the spare key. We have gotten to know him quite well and he has been very helpful and charming on previous ocassions. But he is French! This morning at 11.30am, Virginia went up to collect the second key, taking with her a small gift we had brought from Australia for Monsieur. On answering the door he was welcoming and gracious but made it very plain that an appointment had not been made for the transfer of the key; it was Sunday, he was not yet fully dressed and would contact us at his convenience. Ooh-la-la! Tres Francais!

Of course, we had to work out our dinner and decided that having had a large lunch we should "graze." Obvously, when one grazes in France, one has ham, cheese, a baguette and a bottle or two of wine. We bought most of the goodies at Monoprix but the wine at one of the many lovely wine shops in our neighbourhood.

Another interesting phenomenon is that a number of picturesque thoroughfares, such as Rue Lepic in Montmartre, are closed off to major vehicular traffic, allowing only pedestrians, cyclists and residents between 11.00am and 6.00pm. A much better system than building shopping malls!

Paris - Day 1

29 March 2008

Today was an "organizing" day. We started out by going to our local Internet Shop where we checked e-mail and bought time for the next month. We then walked down to the Rue Lepic and bought a shower curtain since the one that is in the flat was in pretty bad shape. Rue Lepic is a lovely street, with a wet fish shop at the top with the greatest variety of seafood imaginable.
We continued our walk down to Les Abbesses and since it was rapidly approaching lunch time we ducked into a little bistro. I had a Croque Monsieur and Virginia (always the one for healthy fodder) had a salad. Naturally this was accompanied by a glass of wine; we are in Paris, after all.

Next came the challenge of getting our Carte Orange tickets for the month of April. There is something a bit daunting about putting fifty euro notes into a machine in a country where your command of the language isn't as good as you might wish. Anyway, we were successful and wound up with our tickets. While the Carte Orange is expensive, it is still significantly cheaper than paying per trip. It entitles you to access to the Metro, the busses and the RER within the Paris metropolitan area.

In the afternoon we went down to the local shops. Most of our shopping was done at Monoprix, a French version of Big w, albeit classier. Despite our good intentions to avoid cheese the Roquefort looked too good to resist and the very idea of resistance to temptation in Paris seemed suddenly to be an absolute nonsense. We picked up cheese, ham, tomatoes, wine and a baguette for dinner which, I am sure will more than make up for Virginia's virtuous lunch.
We also got some magnificent strawberries. Think of the largest strawberry you ever bought in Australia and increase the size by at least fifty percent. More to the point think of the best strawberry you ever tasted and increase the flavour by at least fifty percent. These were EU strawberries from Spain and were wonderful.

When we got to the bus to go back to our flat, we found that services were cancelled from 2.00pm to 6.00pm. What to do? When in doubt, in Paris, go to a Bistro and have a drink while you think out your strategy. Well, by the time we had a drink and (dare I confess) some chips, the busses were running again so it was homeward we were bound.

Now, for those of you who have followed these blogs in recent years, you may remember the saga of Monsieur who dines most evenings Chez Yang, the Chinese Restaurant just opposite our flat. He is still alive and well and living in Paris and dining every evening Chez Yang. We know no more about him, but having eaten at the restaurant ourselves on one occasion last year, we think he must be a man of limited discernment for the food was not very good. Virginia tells me that he is right-handed and a man of regid habits who dines at the same table, wears very much the same looking clothes, carries a bag with him and walks the same route. Every night he arrives and departs at the same time.

On to Paris

28 March 2008

This starts early, really early. We were awakened by the fire alarm at the hotel at about 2.15am. After grabbing our passports and our wallets we filed outside and stood around until we were told it was a false alarm due to an equipment failure. So, we climbed back into bed and the alarm kept going off at sporadic intervals for the next couple of hours. You know what its like. Just as you finally drift off to sleep the wail of the siren wakes you back up.

Anyway, we were up and packed and on our way to the new Eurostar Terminal at St Pancras station. London was wet, the rain that had been threatening finally arriving. Unfortunately we had let the hotel get us a private cab at a fixed charge and the driver didn't seem to have a clue as to where we wanted to go. On the other hand, he did have one of those GPS systems and with the aid of that he finally got us to the terminal. Next time we will arrange for a traditional London Taxi, especially now that they have special lanes which speed up their trips - something we first saw in Paris years ago.

The trip to Paris was uneventful although our minds still boggle at the idea that you can get from the centre of London to the heart of Paris in just over two hours! A taxi took us to the flat and after a bit of deoderizing (the last person must have been a smoker) we went and did our basic shopping so we could have a very pleasant Cheese Omlette, salad and wine for a light meal before settling down for the night.

Virginia had some wobbly moments leaving England but will be OK in a couple of days.

Sugar, Slavery, the Thames and St Pauls

27 March 2008

Today Virginia was going to meet Christine to visit the Courtauld and I decided to go off to the new Docklands Museum. This is a new museum; a part of the Museum of London. It is in the new Canary Wharf area which is being developed at a fantastic rate. When I visited the area some years ago it looked as if it was going to be a very expensive disaster, but now it is a huge success. Probably one of the contributing factors was London's winning of the 2012 Olympic games which will take place in the general area.

The museum is very "hands-on," and there was a special exhibition of "Slaves, Sugar and London," which showed the history of the slave trade and how it impacted on the city of London. I was pleasantly surprised, too, when I noticed a small exhibit about the sinking of the Princess Alice. In fact, they had one of the original name plates from the ship.

Virginia, in the meantime, having finished at the Courtauld went on a sentimental journey with Christine to the Royal Courts of Justice and to the Temple Inner Court. Then a bus ride to the Tower of London and back to the West End and home.

Buying tickets to events in England, particularly for seniors, is very easy. Unlike Australia where you practically have to sign your life away to get a senior's rate, in the UK they just accept your word. It has always been an annoyance that in Sydney a Hobart (or Tasmanian) seniors card is simply not accepted for many things. This is probably because in the UK there is only the one level of government. Even so, you would think that Australia could develop a better system.
The big news today is that the new Terminal 5 is going to open at Heathrow. Well, it turned out to be a disaster. Almost a quarter of incoming and outcoming flights have been cancelled. They really need to take a lesson from Singapore where the opening of Terminal 3 apparently went ahead without any problems.

Back to London and later, in the afternoon, I went to St Pauls and walked around the area. The Church still remains one of the great treasures of England with its beautiful design by Wren. Just on the side of St Pauls is Temple Bar, the only surviving gateway into the city. It was erected in 1672 by King Charles II to replace a wooden gate which, although it had survived the Great Fire was in a state of disrepair.

When Virginia returned from her day with Christine Howard, we went to dinner and finished up at our local pub while doing our laundry for tomorrow's departure.

The British Library and Bath Spa

26 March 2008

Happy Birthday Will

Once again we we're off in different directions. I went to the British Library to look at some ephemera related to the sinking of the Princess Alice. For more detail about that, go to my Victorian History Blog (http://www.vichist.blogspot.com). Since I did not have a reader's card, I had to get one and that reminded me of when last I tried to get one for the British Library. Back in 1967 when the Library was still part of the British Museum I applied for a reader's card only to discover that they were very difficult to get. This time, the process took about fifteen minutes and two documents; one with my signature and another with my address. Very easy. Unfortunately, as the gentleman processing my application commented, "It's too easy now; there isn't room enough for serious scholars with all the children sent here by their schools."

Virginia caught an 8.00am train to Bath for a sentimental journey. We had booked the trip in advance, from Hobart. As we probably told you last year, booking in advance saves an enormous amount of money, but you are locked into the times for which you booked. Even so, if you can do it, it is a great deal.

The trip was for Virginia to meet up with her old friend Michael Kelly whom she has known for forty-seven years. They drove around some of Wiltshire and Somerset's best scenery including Laycock Abbey and Bradford on Avon. She had a delightful day visiting old haunts and pubs and reminiscing.

While Virginia was exploring the West Country countryside, I decided to spend some time on the tops of buses. Generally I prefer to travel using the Tube because it is faster and I am usually less interested in the trip than in the destination. This afternoon, though, I walked up to Paddington Station where I caught a bus to Picadilly Circus; a most enjoyable trip which included lovely views of Regent street from the top of the bus.

The weather has been a bit milder. We are not finding gloves and scarves an essential item of dress but we are told that the next couple of days are going to be very wet. Ah well, in only two days we will be in Paris (where it is also wet).

From Platform 9 3/4 to Cambridge

25 March 2008

The tube (Underground) is definitely the fastest way of getting around Greater London, but it is boring and often means negotiating many steps or taking lifts or escalators and/or walking miles of corridors to connect between the various platforms. Today we figured out at least one route of the London busses. Virginia much prefers this because it not only reminds her of her childhood when she rode upstairs at the front of the double-decker busses but it also allows one a clear and uninterrupted view of the fabulous London scenery.

Route 205 starts very near Paddington Station and goes directly to Kings Cross station where we discovered that there really is a Platform 9 3/4! And all this time we thought Harry Potter was a figment of J. K. Rowling's imagination. We may have to rethink that and as you can see from the picture, we caught a luggage trolley just as it was going through the wall!

We then picked up cheap day return tickets to Cambridge and our train actually departed from platform 9 1/2! Needless to say, we enjoyed a lovely day out in that old University city. It is essential to gain a place at one of the more than thirty colleges before one can study at Cambridge University.This is quite the opposite of what happens at Jane Franklin Hall where one must first be admitted to study at the University of Tasmania before being received into a residential college.

Cambridge is an interesting place; made up of the old and the new. There are gorgeous medieval streets and some pretty ugly modern buildings. On the right is one of the old streets which really impressed. It looked like one of the drawings by Dore in his and Gerrold's wonderful book on London 1872.

The high point of our visit was walking through Kings College and spending time in the chapel from where we have all heard the service of nine lessons and Christmas Carols every year. A friend of Virginia's told her that to get a ticket for one of these services you need to have your name put in a waiting list at birth! It is a magnificent building. Begun in the 1450s it is noteworthy for many reasons particularly its magnificent fan vaulted ceiling completed in 1515.

The weather was so bitterly cold we ducked into a pub for lunch (as if we really needed an excuse). There is now no smoking in British Pubs which for us, being non-smokers, is wonderful. In fact, most indoor smoking appears to have been banned even in the railway stations. It is hard to imagine a British Pub or Railway station without the thick fug of smoke which always used to be a part of the building. It is a huge change since our visit last year and we are told that we can expect much the same sort of change in Paris.

Shops and Galleries

24 March 2008

Still cold and flurries of real snow! It's hard to imagine that last year was so warm we sat out in the Italian Garden in Hyde Park enjoying "summer" weather. We did some shopping in the morning and in the afternoon split up going to do different things. It's interesting that here we are on Easter Monday and all the shops are open. Virginia remembers when Easter was a sacred event with shops closed from mid-day Maunday Thursday to the start of business the following Tuesday. Shopping, too, is quite intriguing and the economies of scale are very apparent here. Twenty-two million people in greater London is equal to the total population of Australia. It's easy to see why each size of each item of clothing comes in a variety of, for example, arm lengths and leg lengths. We walked about one-eighth of Oxford Street and must have passed at least half-a-dozen major department stores. Nonetheless, with sub-zero temperatures outside, all the go is the summer lines. If you want a winter coat, you will be hard pressed; but you can certainly get a bikini!

We wound up the morning with a quick visit to the National Portrait Gallery where I spent a bit of time looking at the Victorians on display and we had a bite of lunch. In the afternoon, Virginia wandered around the area near Paddington Station and down toward Hyde Park while I returned to Trafalgar Square and visited the National Gallery. The square, even with the crowds and pigeons, is still a wonderful sight. What is the old song?

I live in Trafalgar Square
With four lions to guard me.
Fountains and Statues all over the place
And the Metropole staring me right in the face.
I know it's a trifle drafty,
But I look at it this way, you see,
If it's good enough for Nelson,
It's quite good enough for me.

It was a relatively quick visit but I enjoyed the four El Grecos on display, especially the magnificent St Jerome. I spent a fair bit of time looking at the Impressionists as well before deciding I had had enough and returned to the hotel only ten minutes or so after Virginia.

The Imperial War Museum

23 March 2008

THE IMPERIAL WAR MUSEUM

Snow! We woke to snow and it was quite heavy although it didn't last long and it didn't stick. Nonetheless it was very pretty - especially from a centrally-heated hotel room.

After dealing with basic travel things (i.e. laundry) we headed off in separate directions. I went to the Imperial War Museum to see two particular exhibitions. On the way, I stopped to have a quick look at the house in which William Bligh, a less than towering figure in Australian History, lived. Interestingly on the blue plaque in front of the house the only mention is of the Bounty mutiny.

On to the museum where, in the entrance hall, there is enough military hardware to mount a small war! My interest, however, was in the exhibitions on "The Children's War," which dealt with the life of London children during the years of World War II; and a Holocaust exhibition.

Both were brilliantly mounted but as seems to me to be an unfortunate problem in such shows, they were not as well maintained as they should have been. Many of the "Press Here For ..." elements of the exhibitions did not work and in some places the lettering in signs had fallen or peeled off. Having said that, there was much that was good and thought provoking.

The first of these was a very large exhibition with a London street and a London house of the early '40s as a part of it. I was astonished at the number of Londoners killed in the air raids and the number of children relocated to the country. My favourite part of the exhibition was one letter from a six year old lad to his mother which said something like, "Dear Mum, they have something here called Spring, and they have it every year!" You can just imagine some youngster from the East End who had never seen a glorious Spring watching the countryside come to life for the first time.

The Holocaust exhibition was extensive although I felt that it emphasized the taking in of Jewish refugees by Britain to a greater degree than was justified. On the other hand, it did do justice to the support for the Nazis in Britain and did an excellent job on the growth of anti-antisemitism in Germany and its partner states.

One of the most surprising things was the large number of people of all ages, not just at the museum, but attending the two exhibitions. I was impressed by the number of parents and grandparents explaining elements of the exhibitions to children. "History," I thought, "is alive and well at the Imperial War Museum."

Meanwhile Virginia had walked up to Kensington Palace to meet her friend and work colleague, Christine Howard and Christine's daughter, Ruth. Christine is on holiday in England having visited Ruth in Lund, Sweden, where she is studying for a Master's Degree. They lunched at the Orangery, a flash eatery with prices to match. After lunch and afternoon tea there they walked back to Queensway to do some shopping.

Virginia and I joined forces in the later afternoon and after an hour or so recovery time went out to dinner at a very pleasant Italian restaurant near the hotel. Although there was no more snow, the temperature hovered around freezing all day.

By the way, we're convinced that we have finally worked out the way to travel on these long hauls. Although neither Virginia nor I seem to suffer extensively from Jet Lag, we've noticed that taking our travel over several days and taking daylight flights wherever possible means that when we arrive at our final destination we can jump straight into whatever activities we wish.