Monday, March 21, 2011

I love Paris in the Springtime!

Yesterday was a stunningly beautiful day in Paris -- we had enjoyed a glorious sleep-in, our first good sleep since arriving at Heathrow on Wednesday, facilitated by the quiet in our apartment, and so didn't get going 'til 10:30-ish, so the line-up was already snaking all the way up the plaza in front of the Pompidou Centre. Still, we persevered, knowing there was only one day left for the Mondrian/deStijl exhibit, and it was ever so well worth the wait. Fabulous exhibition! So many satisfying "clicks" in our understanding of 20th-century art were effected by strolling the cleverly curated rooms.
 After we'd seen the exhibit, we grabbed the Metro up to Place du Clichy to meet our friend and her niece, joining the Sunday crowds around Abbesses. Jennifer, owner with her husband Phillippe, of the charming Hotel Résidence des Gobelins, knows more about Paris than most guidebook writers could ever imagine, and she shares her knowledge willingly. She pointed out favourite eating spots, took us in for a peek at the cinema snobs' favourite cinemas, nudged me toward some good fashion hunting, and provided Paris history as we joked, watched the crowds, and caught up on news since last year's visit. After she and her niece dropped us off at a recommended café-bar, we enjoyed the best frites we've had yet in Paris (I'll try to track down the card I grabbed and post it along with other recommended spots later). The owner was pleased that I told him so, but not surprised. Bien sûr, he said, "they were potatoes this morning""!

And when we walked home last night over the Pont Royal, the sky was clear and dark and the moon was shining hugely above and the Tour Eiffel was sparkling away to our right. 37 years, we'll be married this summer, and last night walking home still felt like a honeymoon. . . .

Today, more magic, as the temperatures were in the mid-teens, and the sun's warmth was coaxing buds to open all over the city. The forsythia in the two photos above was blooming on Blvd. Raspail, while the daffodills almost spilled out of their beds in the Jardins du Luxembourg. Workers were trimming the trees, a phenomenon we've never enjoyed seeing before, nor are likely to again.  And all this joy before noon.

I've another post of photos for you from the day's wanderings: some wonderful stealth shots of fabulous women of our certain age, some marvellous windows, even a few what I wore. But we've been invited out for dinner in our old neighbourhood, the 13th . . . à la prochaine!

No comments:

Post a Comment