Crepes, Maxou, and the Louvre

 

Let us be honest, frank and sincere. I'm writing this blog post 3 weeks after this all happened. I remember it all like it was yesterday - literally, it was all yesterday and everything happened in one day. So until I get caught up (which may never happen, given my very erratic access to computers) my posts will be mainly incomplete picdumps (I have 3 different cameras) and small tidbits of information. There will probably never be a complete dictation of this trip, for it has been such a massive and annoying and fabulous undertaking, but one can at least try to record pieces of it.

 France is known for crepes, or so I've heard. Street food here is crepes, the same way street food in Mexico is those little tortillas with the shaved meat, and hot dogs for the US, etc.

I really wanted to like crepes, but I just don't like them. They're bland. I tried a nutella one and a cheese one, and didn't like either.

Another thought: being abroad reminds of you things you never consider: animals don't have a universal language, and a French dog won't respond to English commands. So when the dog at your hosts house thinks it a marvelous idea to nip at your ankles, telling it to get out of your room is woefully ineffective. I had to look up commands in French to get little Maxou (Maxamillion) to leave me alone. It worked!

The first museum I visited in Paris was the Louvre. It's massive. FAR too massive. I wanted to enjoy it. That seems to be a theme of this trip: wanting to have a nice time. It doesn't always work out.

The Louvre had me overwhelmed. I wanted to look around even though I knew I wouldn't get to SEE/appreciate everything. I don't regret going but I do have mixed feelings about it. I couldn't read the plates, so I had no idea what I was looking at. And it was huge and confusing and I had two benadryl because my allergies were acting up, and all I wanted to do was curl up on a bench and sleep instead of looking at 40,000 pieces of art and not knowing what the fuck I was looking at.

I took a few pictures of the Louvre of things that piqued my interest. Above is a small sculpture of a mama bear and her two cubs. (that's my interpretation of it, anyway)

 Small bronze statues.

I was very much moved by this piece; I could almost see her breathing, her fingers moving, and half expected her to get up and move.

My feet are better than yours!

 

Ah, but what can these people be photographing without even admiring?!

... Miss Mona Lisa herself. It was something we simply must see - just to say we've really glimpsed it.

 And like the others, we took a picture from 10 feet away and moved on. Why? It's really nothing to see, especially compared to everything else in the museum. Like this massive 50 foot wide painting on the wall directly opposite it.

The picture does not show how massive it was. It was truly gigantic.

Something I wish to reflect on is this idolatry of Mona Lisa. She's nothing brilliant. The work of art itself is nothing special. Yes, it's nice -- a lot of art is. And yes, it's iconic -- to what end? What does Mona Lisa even represent?

Nothing, as far as I can tell. Supposedly, it's her smile, blah blah. So she has a face, get on with it.

But that's my take on it.

And to finish this post, two very confusing paintings I saw in the Louvre:

Oui Oui, Mon Ami: Arrival in Paris

Our last day in London was spent at the Kew Gardens, meeting up with Leah's penpal for a brief introduction to the museum of science, and frantically finding / boarding our train to London.

 

Unknowingly, the seats we booked were directly behind a class of French schoolboys, all about 13 years old. They entertained themselves by loudly playing Thrift Shop on their phones, throwing Madeleines around, and working on their English homework.

They were very excited to hear that we speak English (and could help with their homework), and became slightly less excited to hear that we were American and not British. (Don't worry, we're disappointed, too.)

 

The train ride was quick, partly underwater, and culminated in our arrival at Gare du Nord, a train station in Paris. It took us no less than 45 minutes for us to exit the station, since the directions we had gotten to take to our hosts flat were erroneous. Eventually we managed to get some information (in French), purchase our train tickets (in French), and board the subway train.

And when we got off, we had no idea where we were. We asked a fellow at a small fruit stand for directions and it took a few tries to prompt the correct response from him. He drew a small map and we got there without error; in fact, when we were close to it we met an English-speaking woman who lived in the exact same building - and oddly she didn't speak French at all! No idea how she did it as we found it quite hard to not know French!

Our 85 year old host forgot we were coming entirely, and didnt have the room made up so sent us down the street to get dinner and come back later. We got expensive Indian food, which we ordered in French, with some difficulty. It ended up being quite decent, though small portions and we were starving so ate every last bit.

 Jasmine rice, samosas, and vegetable curry.


Our Paris hosts flat turned out to be quite amusing. We found ourselves immersed in the French culture. This was what was on the patio table when we arrived.

Fresh mushrooms set to dry.

First things first, our first morning in Paris: food!

Rice, nutella, pesto, chickpeas, curcuma (which I thought was curry, but is actually turmeric), soy sauce (really gross), bananas, organic pasta with quinoa in it, a zucchini, an onion, garlic, and a bag of frozen peas.

And then we set about exploring!

Notre-dame. There's something about these old churches and cathedrals that gets me. I'm an atheist, although maybe a spiritual one at that, but some of these just hit me right in the heart. I think it's the craftsmanship and dedication that goes into making these big temples. Is it god which inspired them to build such huge monoliths or merely vanity? Of course men like to admire their own work. I also think about how large and intricate they are. It would take so long for a person, a team even, to make the plans for such a huge structure -- and so long ago. The calculations, precision, architecture, physics etc... just blows my mind. And how cool and echo-y they are, and the light filtering through the windows. 

Basically, the kind of shit I imagine when I'm listening to Gregorian chanting on my ipod in the dark.

Statue wielding a sword... or a back-scratcher.

And on the way back we acquired a baguette to go with dinner....

...which was pasta with pesto. We had leftovers for breakfast the next day as well, with eggs etc.

Leah says about the above photo:

"I'm not sure where this face came from, my only excuse is that I was very hungry, and on Benadryl. And, you know, baguette."

Even More London

Our time in London was a very long 4 days, and all of it kind of blends together... as much of this trip does.

So here are the last of the pictures from our time in London, all of which are, I think, from the last two days.

 A long abandoned alley.

 

Stretching at the tube station.

The Tube, Morning.

 

Disturbing statue at Kew gardens.

  Big Ben.

 Westminster Abbey

  Giant lilly pads at Kew Gardens

Gelato

hazelnut and pistachio for me, kiwi and mango for Leah

 

Hot house at Kew gardens, arguably my favourite place we visited. A little hot for Leah but I love plants and I love greenhouses, so I was totally in my element!

Mama goose.