Peripatetic Paris PM

Departing Notre Dame, our quartet crossed the Pont au Double to the Left Bank, then turned briefly up Rue Lagrange, before veering off onto Rue de Fouarre, which after a block turns into Rue Danté.  Our destination was Boulevard Saint-Germain, the centerpiece of Baron Haussmann’s redesign of the Left Bank.  In the Latin Quarter, close to our flat, the broad avenue abuts the Université Didérot, and all manner of cafés, bookstores, and restaurants in the area are bustling with students night and day.  The route of our walk took us more towards the section of the Boulevard known for high end shops, and the tree-lined, wide sidewalks and mixture of classic French façade with new construction made for a picturesque stroll on a very pleasant fall afternoon.  As is so often the case in Paris, new and old mingled effortlessly, with the boulevard bordered on one side by the incongruity of a McDonalds at the street level of a lovely old apartment with wrought iron rails, while on the other side of the avenue stood the Musée Nationale du Moyen Age, housing remnants of Roman era Baths.

A little further along, an unexpected archway adjacent to the improbable Indiana Café (your place to go for Tex-Mex in Paris!) opened through the building front to the Cour de Commerce Saint André. 

Looking down this alley reminded me of a street merchant scene from the 17^th century as described in the Musée Carnavalet.  Close building fronts, cobbled paving and narrow sidewalks created a dark tunnel lined with gas lamp fixtures in which the stark silhouette of a merchant’s sign stood out against whitewashed walls of a distant façade.  

 
 
Down the next street, Rue de l’Ancienne Comédie, was Le Procope, where Tina, Dougie Annie and I had shared a memorable dinner earlier, and in the distance the gilded dome of the Bureau des Longitudes stood out against the blue Paris sky.  A quick glance at 

 the link will make it obvious why Captain Harrison would flag this site among the hundreds of monuments that Paris offers.  

 

By this time, feeling foot-weary and decidedly thirsty, we headed for a late lunch stop at one of the city’s most famous cafés, Les Deux Magots. Quintessentially French waiters balanced trays of refreshing wine and Perrier, and I ordered a

croque of tasty, smoked Norwegian Salmon on fresh Baguette.  
 
 








And Annie had the camera at hand in time to catch this shot of a dessert tray to make your mouth water! 

Keep your eyes on the pastry, boys!

Refreshed and rested, Annie and I were ready to forge on towards our planned visit to the Musée d’Orsay, while Ann-Catrine and Clas opted to head back to Rue Mouffetard, but not before Annie caught this great shot of them toasting each other’s health. 

 

Heading down the Rue Napoleon, we soon reached the banks of the Seine, where an inviting stretch of bouquinistas beckoned. 

Ahh, Heaven for bibliophile Annie, who soon was buried in old books and artwork, although I occasionally got a glimpse of

her face as she came up for air.  Look at that happy smile!

Of course, the banks of the Seine also had views that brought a smile to my face as well.  While most heavily laden cargo vessels carry life-boats, Sebastien comes equipped with a little red life-coupe as well! 

 

Tearing ourselves away from the scenic Seine, we continued along the Quai until we reached our destination, the Musée d’Orsay, which, as the clock face adornment indicates, used to house the railway terminal for the Paris-Orléans trains.

Unfortunately, photography is not permitted inside the museum, so I can’t share with you images of the treasures of the 19^th and 20^th Century masters, Van Gogh, Gauguin, Manet, Monet, Renoir, Rodin, Seurat, Degas, Toulouse-Lautrec, and many others. Nor am I going to attempt to replicate the expert commentary, much less the liberal application of simile, metaphor, and semantic embellishment that we experienced on the audio-tour that we followed.  The paintings and sculpture were stunning, but Runga-Kutta iterative simultaneous solutions to differential equations are a lot easier for me to understand than the critical commentary.

By the time we’d made a partial circuit of the d’Orsay, our legs had just enough left in them to make it to the Metro, and we headed back to Rue Linné to rest and clean up for a delightful dinner at the Jardin des Pâtes with Ann-Catrine and Clas.  The day had been long, and looking at an early rising the next morning, we headed back around the corner to our comfy bed.