Morning brought us into the charming breakfast room once again. Norah brought us hard boiled eggs.

An egg cup!

And my favorite lamp was to my left:

We got on the Metro – where an elderly man was playing La Vie en Rose on an accordian in our car – and headed for Pigalle where there is a small street full of guitar shops. Don wanted to practice just a bit and a shop owner kindly let him play for about a half hour.

Pigalle itself can be rather seedy, depending on where you are. After Don was finished, we walked up a hill and found the famous Moulin Rouge.

Then we walked some more and saw a sign for the Cimetière Montmartre and headed in that direction. We love old cemeteries. We’ve yet to see Cimetière du Père Lachaise – that will be for another trip – but this cemetery is very, very old, and is on a hill, with each level going higher and higher.

We wandered around, looking at the beautiful monuments and graves, each one telling a story about someone who lived here in Paris, often in Montmartre itself, and passed away.

La Goulue, who was part of the invention of the famous can-can and danced at the Moulin Rouge. When we looked up her story, we found it was ultimately tragic. She was a huge star and known as the Queen of Montmartre. She was one of the favorite subjects of Toulouse-Lautrec. Eventually, she left the Moulin Rouge, invested her money in a traveling show that featured her and lost all her money. She was destitute and an alcoholic and ended up selling peanuts on a corner in Montmartre. She died at the age of 62.

A stray cat.

Famous composer Hector Berloz is buried here.

Nadia Boulanger is buried here. She was a composer, conductor, and teacher. Among the many students that traveled to France to study with her were Aaron Copland, Virgil Thomson, Darius Milhaud, Daniel Barenboim, Philip Glass, Quincy Jones, and Michel LeGrand. I’ve seemingly always known about her so visiting her gravesite was important to me.

She was a formidable force in music, as was her sister, Lili, who tragically died very young in 1918. Nadia was the first woman to conduct major orchestras in both Europe and America, among them; the Boston Symphony, New York Philharmonic, Philadelphia Orchestra, and the BBC Symphony. She lived to the age of 92.

I found her gravesite very moving.

Also buried in the cemetery, the famous ballet dancer Nijinsky.

One of his most famous roles: Petrouchka. Amazingly, before we had a chance to research it, I told Don I thought this sculpture might be of Petrouchka, and I was right. Amazing what little factoids stay in my brain. His story is also tragic, but I’ll let you look that up.

He was a star, the greatest male dancer of the early 20th Century. He was also a choreographer, choreographing Le Sacre du Printemps – The Rite of Spring – by Stravinsky.

Again, I was honored to be in his presence.

And finally, we made sure to visit a hero of ours, François Truffaut.

A brilliant director, he died too young at the age of 52.

We left two metro tickets on his grave in honor of his movie, The Last Metro.

Also buried in the cemetery: Edgar Degas, the painter; Alexandre Dumas fils, the writer; Marie Duplessis, French Courtesan and the inspiration for La Dame aux Camélias by Dumas fils, one of her lovers, which ultimately inspired Camille. She was also believed to be the lover of Franz Liszt. She died at the age of 23 from tuberculosis.

Foucault, of Foucault’s pendulum, is buried here, as well as the playwright Feydeau, whose farce,  A Flea in Her Ear,  was playing at the Comédie-Française while we were there. Jacques Offenbach, the composer, is buried there. Stendahl, the author, is buried there, as well as Adolphe Sax, the inventor of the saxophone.

It’s quite amazing. And very moving.

A lady comes and feeds the stray cats. We happened to be in standing right where she appeared, calling out to the cats, who came very quickly.

Here they are, obviously well fed:

We spent about three hours at the cemetery. The fact that we just happened on it made it even lovelier.

After our visit to the Cimetière, we grabbed a cab and went to the café where we had those great veggie burgers. Then we made one more stop here,

where I bought one more book and a tote bag with their logo.

We ended up in our favorite place, the Jardin du Luxembourg.

For a little Pétanque.

That night, our upstairs ‘neighbors,’ who had to be the loudest people on earth, kept me awake for hours. There was lots of noise, in addition to some vigorous and seemingly endless moaning accompanied by the sound of bed springs moving so fast that I thought they might crash into the room. It went on forever. I never complain about that kind of thing, but I did this time. I was not a happy camper. Our friend at the Front Desk spoke to them – though they were Russian and spoke very little French – and the next night was better.

More tomorrow, when we visit a Farmers Market, a beautiful shop, Ladurée for some macarons, the Seine, the Comédie-Française, and some miniature shops.

Happy Tuesday.

Paris.

This day was the only day in which we felt off-kilter. It started off with us oversleeping. I’m sure it was an adjustment to jet lag, but we made the mistake of feeling as if we had to go down to breakfast right away and, in reality, it was too soon. We felt foggy off and on for the remainder of the day.

On that very gray day, we decided to walk to the other side of the Seine, to the Louvre and the Tuileries and walk the Champs-Élysées, something we didn’t have time for last year.

We passed by the Louvre, hung a left through the Arc de Triomphe du Caroussel, located just to the east of the Louvre.

It’s quite beautiful and is the gateway to the famous Tuileries gardens.

They’re quite lovely and rather extensive.

Notice the heart? I love this photo of a couple walking down the path.

More sailboats for rent. We briefly contemplated renting one, but thought we should save that for the children. (Even though we are kids at heart.)

We came upon another pond, and saw these.

An installation of umbrellas. So beautiful! We were entranced.

Our bladders were complaining and we spend a great deal of time trying to find a toilette. We finally came upon this:

Pay? Absolutely.

Much better!

We headed through the Place de la Concorde – incredibly busy with traffic – and headed down the Champs-Élysées. It’s a very long walk and it was a frustrating one. There was construction on both sides of the road in the prettiest part of the C-E  – the tree-lined, park-like stretch. So we had to keep leaving the pavement and had to maneuver through puddles, etc. I was frustrated because that was the part I really wanted to see and experience.

When we finally reached a more walkable stretch, closer to the Arc du Triomphe, we were dismayed to find it was full of high-end shops, as well as shops I could see anywhere in Times Square; a Disney store, Abercrombie and Fitch, Zara, and the Gap. It was unbelievably crowded and touristy and very, very disappointing. It was like walking an outdoor mall. We decide to turn around and give up on seeing the Arc de Triomphe up close. Don stood in the middle of the street for the longest time to get a picture of it and got some good ones, but, as you know if you follow me on IG, his phone was stolen later in the week and all of his photos – and there were some great ones – were lost. More on that later.

This is as close as I got with my phone camera:

But we were there and here’s a picture of us to prove it.

It must be noted that we were overwhelmed by images we had seen in the past of the Nazis parading down the Champs-Élysées. Devastating. And we stopped to take that in; how horrific it must have been for the citizens of Paris. Hard to believe now, but all too real.

On the way back, we saw the Grand Palais and the Petit Palais, both now museums and exhibition spaces.

Gorgeous. Simply stunning.

We walked across the Pont Alexandre on our way back to the Left Bank.

There she is.

By this time, we had walked for miles and our legs and knees were complaining so we grabbed a cab back to the hotel. We rested for a while in our room and then walked over to the famous Bon Marché department store (only a few blocks from our hotel.) It’s a gorgeous Art Deco building. I was searching for bubble bath, Don for another white T-shirt. We ended up finding both. Though a bit pricey, it’s rather high end, I grabbed the bubble bath because it is always hard to find in the local pharmacies. The hotel has my dream tub, deep and long, and I take a bath every night. How I wish I had a tub like that here!

After a search for a place to have an early dinner – hard to find as restaurants tend to close for a couple of hours and then re-open at 7 pm – I became crabby and Don took over, bless him. He found a Chinese place with take-out and brought it back to the room.

We lost our ‘just be’ mojo that day and made a vow not to lose it again. And we didn’t.

Lesson learned.

Happy Monday.

In addition to all the changes in time zones we’ve been through over the past week and a half – just now getting over jet lag – we’ve been through two time changes. France set their clocks back last weekend, while we were there. And now, we’ve set our clocks back.

No wonder we’re a bit off!

Back to Paris. I’m going to spend a bit of time on Marie De Medici’s Fountain, simply because it’s so exquisite.

The beautiful swoops of ivy. Isn’t this gorgeous? I don’t mind telling you I was entranced.

Reflections and leaves. Another reason I love to visit Paris in autumn.

We stood here for the longest time, trying to figure out who the figures were. Since we stumbled upon the fountain and hadn’t done any research, we could only guess. We were wrong, of course. The fountain originally had a statue of Venus, along with some nymphs, but in the 19th century – the fountain was originally constructed between 1623 and 1630 – it was moved thirty meters (about a hundred feet) to its current location and these figures were added. Sculpted by August Ottin and added to the fountain in 1866, they are the giant Polyphemus, in bronze, and Acis and Galatea, in white marble. You can find all the details about the fountain on Wikipedia.

The coat of arms of the Medicis is at the top.

We sat on two of those chairs, staring at the water and the beauty surrounding us.

Eventually, we left – rather reluctantly – and walked toward the pond.

That’s the Panthéon in the distance. Originally a church dedicated to Sainte-Genevieve, it eventually became a mausoleum, where many famous Parisians are buried. Voltaire, Rousseau, Victor Hugo, Émile Zola, Louis Braille, Marie Curie, Alexandre Dumas and heroes of the French Resistance are buried there. We didn’t get to it this trip, but we will next time.

Children were sailing sailboats in the pond.

This dog was quite interested in the fish.

The playground is so wonderful! Kids are allowed to climb and hang upside down and ride through the air on a seat that travels from one point to another. That little girl in the foreground is on it. It’s incredibly well designed and what we loved most about it was that it hearkened back to the playgrounds of our youth, though obviously much better, and to a time when the powers-that-be weren’t so darned ‘careful.’ Kids need to play. They need to explore. They need to take a few risks. There were many parents there and I’m sure they were keeping a careful eye on the kids. It’s magical.

It’s right next to a carousel and the Marionette Theater that we visited last year.

And finally, to our favorite place to while away some time, the Pétanque courts. We discovered them last year and fell in love with the game and the players and the conviviality of the whole thing. I’m going to write more about Pétanque later because I think it’s worth writing about. We came back to watch this game, with an ever-changing cast of characters, at least 3 more times while we were in Paris.

On this particular day, the young gentleman in the foreground noticed us, found out we were Americans, and took the time to explain the game to us. After each round, he would come over and explain what had just happened, how many points each team had, and the strategy of the game. He was so kind. Everyone was. But this man was delightful. We were so grateful for his willingness to pass on his knowledge.

Everywhere we went in Paris, we met kind, generous, friendly, and courteous people. I don’t know where the idea that the French are rude to Americans started, but I have never experienced it. Nor has Don. Sometimes people are busy and only have time for a short reply but that happens anywhere; in my little town here in the Hudson Valley, in New York City, in London. As I said last year, if you make an effort to communicate, if you are respectful and aware that you are a visitor in another country, if you are a bit humble, you will be embraced. We were embraced last year and it happened again this year.

More tomorrow. I sure hope you’re finding this interesting!

Happy Sunday.