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We decided to stay put in our hotel for another night, and were pleasantly surprised to find that we could stay in the same room for ten Euros less. The metro station was close by and when we studied the metro map, it would probably be difficult not to have a metro station close by, so good is the coverage. Ever since yesterday I have been wishing that I had come to live and study here when I was young, and even being on a train seemed so exciting. Keith, who was happy to come to Paris but would have been equally happy not to have come, is also falling under its spell.
A quick check at the Eiffel Tower for a tourist information office revealed that their information was only about the tower itself.
Since we had a map with the highlights marked we weren’t worried and we set off to cross the road to the Seine. Two young women stopped us and asked us to use the other lights because a movie was being filmed. We complied and studied the police standing all alone on the other corner, who must surely be actors. Nothing seemed to be happening and after about five minutes of obedient tourists being diverted and disobedient ones slipping through the net and crossing anyway, the lacklustre police people hopped into the police van and drove off. This was not an action movie, it seemed. Afterwards we were to see identical groups of police people at intersections with identical police cars so I thought that the movie thing might have been a hoax secretly filmed to show tourist reactions. Keith said that of course the police in the movie would look and behave like real police, so I guess we will never know what was happening.
After we crossed the Seine we came the Palais de Chaillot, which is built up on a rise. Running up to it are pools and lawns, with a sign saying to keep off the grass and out of the water for fear of being injured by canons. This seemed a bit extreme but we had always heard that the French like to have grass to look at rather than to walk on. It was explained when we came to the water canons that fire down into the ponds, but which were inactive today since it was slime clean up day and the water had been drained. There is a very strong classical influence in the statues and buildings. 
We didn’t visit the museums housed in the Palais de Chaillot because of expense and because we had a lot of walking ahead of us. Later we learnt about the Museum Card, which allows lots of visits to museums for reduced prices. If we had had a week it would have been well worth investing in but with only a couple of days, we wanted to be out and about.
These thoughts were immediately cancelled when we saw the De Passy Cemetery up on the hill across the square. We passed through the entrance in the wall into another realm, leaving today’s Paris behind. Tombs like small houses, with doors that you could enter, lined many of the paths and there were other flat graves, some with and some without decorations or statues. Some famous people are buried there and we saw the grave of Edward Manet, with his bust on top, but failed to locate Claude Debussy, who was being hunted by some enthusiastic British tourists with a list of the famous to tick off. Another English couple commented on how typically French and over the top everything was and that it was ‘a bit much really.’ We told them about the cemetery in Zagreb, which would put this cemetery well in the shade and the lady commented on how she didn’t hold with all that ostentation and neither with the photos she had seen on some Greek graves. It made it all too personal and a bit creepy to her. I love people’s reactions, they are all so different. Meanwhile a small, elegant crowd in black, each one holding a white long stemmed rose, was waiting beside a little house tomb to say their final farewells to someone dear. They really did look like they were in a film, just waiting for someone to say ‘Action’.
A young man stopped in front of us and bent down to pick up a gold ring. He looked at it in surprise and asked us if we had dropped a ring. We said we hadn’t and after he showed me the gold mark inside it, he offered it to me. I took it, thinking to drop it in to the police, and the boy chatted about it being our lucky day. We parted in a friendly way and we walked on. About twenty seconds later he caught up to us and said that he was from Warsaw in Poland and could we give him some money for food. We started to smell a fish, and I gave him back the ring and said that he could sell that for food. He looked a bit put out and continued after us but we walked on. Nevertheless, he recovered his equilibrium within moments and we saw him bend to pick something up (could it have been the gold ring that they might have dropped?) in front of some other people and chat to them. By this stage we were on to his game and stopped to watch but he was unsuccessful yet again and walked away. Ten minutes later on the other side of the road we saw a young woman doing exactly the same routine with passing tourists. We watched her do it twice, apparently uncessessfully on both occasions despite a lengthy conversation with a one of the intended victims. We tried to work out how this scam would work. Obviously they do a supposed 'favour' to tourists and they feel some sort of obligation. But what happens if they take the ring and don’t give any money, or not enough money to cover the cost of the ring? We needed to think about human nature a bit more – about greed in taking a ring that isn’t yours if you plan to keep or sell it, about the sense of one good turn deserving another, and about how much the average sucker might give. 
Below: a close up of a portion of the Pissaro painting above.
We decided to stay put in our hotel for another night, and were pleasantly surprised to find that we could stay in the same room for ten Euros less. The metro station was close by and when we studied the metro map, it would probably be difficult not to have a metro station close by, so good is the coverage. Ever since yesterday I have been wishing that I had come to live and study here when I was young, and even being on a train seemed so exciting. Keith, who was happy to come to Paris but would have been equally happy not to have come, is also falling under its spell.
A quick check at the Eiffel Tower for a tourist information office revealed that their information was only about the tower itself.
Since we had a map with the highlights marked we weren’t worried and we set off to cross the road to the Seine. Two young women stopped us and asked us to use the other lights because a movie was being filmed. We complied and studied the police standing all alone on the other corner, who must surely be actors. Nothing seemed to be happening and after about five minutes of obedient tourists being diverted and disobedient ones slipping through the net and crossing anyway, the lacklustre police people hopped into the police van and drove off. This was not an action movie, it seemed. Afterwards we were to see identical groups of police people at intersections with identical police cars so I thought that the movie thing might have been a hoax secretly filmed to show tourist reactions. Keith said that of course the police in the movie would look and behave like real police, so I guess we will never know what was happening.After we crossed the Seine we came the Palais de Chaillot, which is built up on a rise. Running up to it are pools and lawns, with a sign saying to keep off the grass and out of the water for fear of being injured by canons. This seemed a bit extreme but we had always heard that the French like to have grass to look at rather than to walk on. It was explained when we came to the water canons that fire down into the ponds, but which were inactive today since it was slime clean up day and the water had been drained. There is a very strong classical influence in the statues and buildings. We didn’t visit the museums housed in the Palais de Chaillot because of expense and because we had a lot of walking ahead of us. Later we learnt about the Museum Card, which allows lots of visits to museums for reduced prices. If we had had a week it would have been well worth investing in but with only a couple of days, we wanted to be out and about.These thoughts were immediately cancelled when we saw the De Passy Cemetery up on the hill across the square. We passed through the entrance in the wall into another realm, leaving today’s Paris behind. Tombs like small houses, with doors that you could enter, lined many of the paths and there were other flat graves, some with and some without decorations or statues. Some famous people are buried there and we saw the grave of Edward Manet, with his bust on top, but failed to locate Claude Debussy, who was being hunted by some enthusiastic British tourists with a list of the famous to tick off. Another English couple commented on how typically French and over the top everything was and that it was ‘a bit much really.’ We told them about the cemetery in Zagreb, which would put this cemetery well in the shade and the lady commented on how she didn’t hold with all that ostentation and neither with the photos she had seen on some Greek graves. It made it all too personal and a bit creepy to her. I love people’s reactions, they are all so different. Meanwhile a small, elegant crowd in black, each one holding a white long stemmed rose, was waiting beside a little house tomb to say their final farewells to someone dear. They really did look like they were in a film, just waiting for someone to say ‘Action’.
We left quietly and set off towards the Champs Elyssées. On the way we stopped in a median strip as big as a full scale park and we rang Holly to say ‘Happy Birthday’. We caught her in the evening in Australia.
We walked up the length of the Champs Elyssées, which is the main ceremonial street in Paris. It is lined with restaurants and car and motorbike dealers in its early stretches. We stopped to marvel at the display of bicycles and tricycles from 1898, 1899 and 1906 in the window of the Peugeot shop, one with a shaft instead of a chain and another that was designed for ‘women and the clergy.’
We walked up the length of the Champs Elyssées, which is the main ceremonial street in Paris. It is lined with restaurants and car and motorbike dealers in its early stretches. We stopped to marvel at the display of bicycles and tricycles from 1898, 1899 and 1906 in the window of the Peugeot shop, one with a shaft instead of a chain and another that was designed for ‘women and the clergy.’ The Arc de Triomphe is spectacular, set in the middle of the road on an island with a storm of traffic swirling around it. An underground walkway took us up under the arch, which was finished in 1836 and was commissioned to celebrate the victories of Napoleon I and his armies. It is covered with relief sculptures and the names of battles. Commemorative plaques for other battles and wars are set into the paving stones and a flame burns before the tomb of the Unknown Soldier. It was possible to go up the stairs to the top of the 50 metre arch, but we didn’t go up. It is an amazingly lavish war memorial and it certainly looks fantastic from each end of the Champs Elyssées. 
It set the tone for the buildings and gardens that we were to walk past from here on, nearly all of which could only have been built in an era when labour was cheaper and ostentation was applauded. There are statues everywhere and even I had to look at some from afar because, if I had investigated every one, we would never have made headway.
Further down the Champs Elyssées we continued our motoring theme with a Renault display of the RT28 racing car and the Type K model of 1902, which looked like two comfortable lounge chairs on wheels with a suitcase attached at the back. 
We passed buildings that looked glorious enough to be the Grand Palace mentioned on our map, but which never were, and strolled through gardens where a whole section had been randomly sown with wildflowers – very pretty and flowering profusely. 
A statue of Charles de Gaulle reminded us of how he had rallied support for the Resistance from his base in England during World War II, in order to overthrow German Occupation, of how he had opposed the French Vichy Government and of what an important part he played in French political life. Lily ponds, treed walkways, gilt gates, domes, huge dimensions of buildings and statues – this is a city wearing a party dress. We called at the tourist information bureau, where they were charming and helpful, and gave us good advice about visiting museums after 6 pm on their late opening days for cheaper prices. With that in mind, when we found the Grand Palace, which is immense and put all the others we thought might be it very much in the shade. It had been built for the Universal Exhibition in 1900 and is now home to the Science Museum and other exhibitions. 
We admired the Little Palace, which is only that by comparison and equally looks like the architects were able to really let themselves go when they designed it for the Universal Exhibition, then we set off for the bridge across the Seine and the Musée D’Orsay.
Just before the bridge we spotted a statue of Bolivar riding his horse, his role in the independence struggles of South American Nations being commemorated by the people of Paris.
It set the tone for the buildings and gardens that we were to walk past from here on, nearly all of which could only have been built in an era when labour was cheaper and ostentation was applauded. There are statues everywhere and even I had to look at some from afar because, if I had investigated every one, we would never have made headway. Further down the Champs Elyssées we continued our motoring theme with a Renault display of the RT28 racing car and the Type K model of 1902, which looked like two comfortable lounge chairs on wheels with a suitcase attached at the back. We passed buildings that looked glorious enough to be the Grand Palace mentioned on our map, but which never were, and strolled through gardens where a whole section had been randomly sown with wildflowers – very pretty and flowering profusely. A statue of Charles de Gaulle reminded us of how he had rallied support for the Resistance from his base in England during World War II, in order to overthrow German Occupation, of how he had opposed the French Vichy Government and of what an important part he played in French political life. Lily ponds, treed walkways, gilt gates, domes, huge dimensions of buildings and statues – this is a city wearing a party dress. We called at the tourist information bureau, where they were charming and helpful, and gave us good advice about visiting museums after 6 pm on their late opening days for cheaper prices. With that in mind, when we found the Grand Palace, which is immense and put all the others we thought might be it very much in the shade. It had been built for the Universal Exhibition in 1900 and is now home to the Science Museum and other exhibitions. We admired the Little Palace, which is only that by comparison and equally looks like the architects were able to really let themselves go when they designed it for the Universal Exhibition, then we set off for the bridge across the Seine and the Musée D’Orsay.Just before the bridge we spotted a statue of Bolivar riding his horse, his role in the independence struggles of South American Nations being commemorated by the people of Paris.
A young man stopped in front of us and bent down to pick up a gold ring. He looked at it in surprise and asked us if we had dropped a ring. We said we hadn’t and after he showed me the gold mark inside it, he offered it to me. I took it, thinking to drop it in to the police, and the boy chatted about it being our lucky day. We parted in a friendly way and we walked on. About twenty seconds later he caught up to us and said that he was from Warsaw in Poland and could we give him some money for food. We started to smell a fish, and I gave him back the ring and said that he could sell that for food. He looked a bit put out and continued after us but we walked on. Nevertheless, he recovered his equilibrium within moments and we saw him bend to pick something up (could it have been the gold ring that they might have dropped?) in front of some other people and chat to them. By this stage we were on to his game and stopped to watch but he was unsuccessful yet again and walked away. Ten minutes later on the other side of the road we saw a young woman doing exactly the same routine with passing tourists. We watched her do it twice, apparently uncessessfully on both occasions despite a lengthy conversation with a one of the intended victims. We tried to work out how this scam would work. Obviously they do a supposed 'favour' to tourists and they feel some sort of obligation. But what happens if they take the ring and don’t give any money, or not enough money to cover the cost of the ring? We needed to think about human nature a bit more – about greed in taking a ring that isn’t yours if you plan to keep or sell it, about the sense of one good turn deserving another, and about how much the average sucker might give. one of the ring scammers
Luckily we were fully distracted by what was surely the most ornate bridge in the whole world, the Pont Alexander III, with statues of cherubs and nymphs, garlands, many a gilt Pegasus, classical statues and even over-the-top sculptures on the sides of the bridge for the benefit of those on the river. Built to commemorate French and Russian friendship, and Tsar Alexander III in particular, it was opened by the President of the Republic, Emile Loubet, to coincide with, surprise, surprise, the Universal Exhibition. The exhibitions were a great boon to artists and architects who worked towards them and were able to gain patronage and enormous publicity and prestige. Lots of art works that we were about to see had been painted for this or that grand exhibition. Fifty million visitors came to Paris for the 1900 exhibition, which is phenomenal and must have boosted all sorts of endeavours and the prestige of Paris.
In true French style, the National Assembly on the other side of the Seine, is elaborately decorated, with a classical style frieze with a draped woman holding a scroll with Liberté, Egalité and Fraternité in gold on it. Great stone thinkers and politicians sit in larger than life size, cogitating on problems and no doubt wondering about the doings of today.
We had just a little taste of the left bank artists and book stalls, and time to view a bicycle chained to a post which had had its front wheel stolen, when we came to the Musée D’Orsay. Originally a train station built to cater for all the people at the Universal Exhibition in 1900, it is very unusual as a building and only makes sense when you know that the incredible long gallery down the middle with the arched roof was once where the rails were laid. In the 1970s its days as a station were numbered since it couldn’t cater for modern trains, and luckily it was saved from demolition to be transformed into a museum. It really is a glorious museum, with three levels of rooms that run into each other. Each room is devoted to an artistic movement or to an artist, with the focus being Western Art of all kinds from 1848 to 1914.
There were so many very fine sculptures and with so much space, each was able to be displayed to advantage. It was interesting to read how commissioned works were met by the public, with some being derided by the critics. Jean-Baptiste Carpeaux was a particularly prolific sculptor, and also a painter. His work, The Four Parts of the World Holding up a Celestial Sphere, 1872, was criticised because the women were considered to be ‘wild and undernourished.’ Another of his works, ‘The Dance’ for the opera house, was ‘too animated, wanton and vulgar’ for the critics’ tastes – strange when you consider that lots of the admired sculptures of the times had names such as ‘Bitten by a Snake’ that gave the sculptor the opportunity to present bodies in interesting, but equally wanton, poses. Classical themes go a long way in that direction too. Carpeaux’s ‘Imperial Prince and his Dog Nero’, restored him to everyone’s good books and he went on with a most illustrious and prolific career. Fascinating to us were the many sketches and practice models that accompanied the finished sculptures by many different artists.
I always find it hard to write about the galleries that we visit because, of course, any description does not do justice to the feeling of immense excitement that I have of being in the presence of so many amazing works of art. Really this museum warrants more than one visit and plenty of time to enjoy, so that you don’t start to suffer from overload and the sense that you need to move on because closing time is looming up. So while I will continue with just a brief dip in here and there, it is important to know that we both found this museum to be a wonderful experience. The works of impressionist artists were particularly interesting to us, maybe because it is a movement we are familiar with, but also because it requires such immense skill and vision to be able to move away from realism and yet to create with light and colour the emotion and atmosphere of a subject as well as its physical form. Edward Manet, whose grave we had visited, was an early proponent of impressionism and we were keen to see his works. Two portraits of his may have been equally surprising to the relatives of the sitters and, being such contrasts, made us wonder about his relationship with his sister-in-law, the one who is hidden behind her fan.
It was interesting to see famous paintings by Monet, Renoir, Manet, Degas, Delacroix, Cezanne, Toulouse Lautrec, Van Gough and others, many known to us from notepaper, cards and art books, but also to see a range of their works showing their development as artists. Edward Manet’s ‘Le Dejeuner sur L’herbe’ (Lunch on the Grass), 1863, took up a whole wall and suggested that a little more than the sandwiches had been enjoyed. A later enormous painting by Monet in 1865, with the same name, makes reference to this famous work and was painted in time for the Salon of 1866 . Deciding not to present it, he stored it and the canvas was damaged. Monet decided to cut the canvas up and make two paintings of the remaining parts. It was only in 1987 that the museum acquired the second part to go with the one it has had since 1957. A photo of showed how much more there was to the original painting.
In true French style, the National Assembly on the other side of the Seine, is elaborately decorated, with a classical style frieze with a draped woman holding a scroll with Liberté, Egalité and Fraternité in gold on it. Great stone thinkers and politicians sit in larger than life size, cogitating on problems and no doubt wondering about the doings of today.We had just a little taste of the left bank artists and book stalls, and time to view a bicycle chained to a post which had had its front wheel stolen, when we came to the Musée D’Orsay. Originally a train station built to cater for all the people at the Universal Exhibition in 1900, it is very unusual as a building and only makes sense when you know that the incredible long gallery down the middle with the arched roof was once where the rails were laid. In the 1970s its days as a station were numbered since it couldn’t cater for modern trains, and luckily it was saved from demolition to be transformed into a museum. It really is a glorious museum, with three levels of rooms that run into each other. Each room is devoted to an artistic movement or to an artist, with the focus being Western Art of all kinds from 1848 to 1914.There were so many very fine sculptures and with so much space, each was able to be displayed to advantage. It was interesting to read how commissioned works were met by the public, with some being derided by the critics. Jean-Baptiste Carpeaux was a particularly prolific sculptor, and also a painter. His work, The Four Parts of the World Holding up a Celestial Sphere, 1872, was criticised because the women were considered to be ‘wild and undernourished.’ Another of his works, ‘The Dance’ for the opera house, was ‘too animated, wanton and vulgar’ for the critics’ tastes – strange when you consider that lots of the admired sculptures of the times had names such as ‘Bitten by a Snake’ that gave the sculptor the opportunity to present bodies in interesting, but equally wanton, poses. Classical themes go a long way in that direction too. Carpeaux’s ‘Imperial Prince and his Dog Nero’, restored him to everyone’s good books and he went on with a most illustrious and prolific career. Fascinating to us were the many sketches and practice models that accompanied the finished sculptures by many different artists.I always find it hard to write about the galleries that we visit because, of course, any description does not do justice to the feeling of immense excitement that I have of being in the presence of so many amazing works of art. Really this museum warrants more than one visit and plenty of time to enjoy, so that you don’t start to suffer from overload and the sense that you need to move on because closing time is looming up. So while I will continue with just a brief dip in here and there, it is important to know that we both found this museum to be a wonderful experience. The works of impressionist artists were particularly interesting to us, maybe because it is a movement we are familiar with, but also because it requires such immense skill and vision to be able to move away from realism and yet to create with light and colour the emotion and atmosphere of a subject as well as its physical form. Edward Manet, whose grave we had visited, was an early proponent of impressionism and we were keen to see his works. Two portraits of his may have been equally surprising to the relatives of the sitters and, being such contrasts, made us wonder about his relationship with his sister-in-law, the one who is hidden behind her fan. It was interesting to see famous paintings by Monet, Renoir, Manet, Degas, Delacroix, Cezanne, Toulouse Lautrec, Van Gough and others, many known to us from notepaper, cards and art books, but also to see a range of their works showing their development as artists. Edward Manet’s ‘Le Dejeuner sur L’herbe’ (Lunch on the Grass), 1863, took up a whole wall and suggested that a little more than the sandwiches had been enjoyed. A later enormous painting by Monet in 1865, with the same name, makes reference to this famous work and was painted in time for the Salon of 1866 . Deciding not to present it, he stored it and the canvas was damaged. Monet decided to cut the canvas up and make two paintings of the remaining parts. It was only in 1987 that the museum acquired the second part to go with the one it has had since 1957. A photo of showed how much more there was to the original painting.Below: a close up of a portion of the Pissaro painting above.
Equipped with a map of the galleries, we started to scurry because we were keen to see what they had by Gaudi, the Art Nouveau exhibitions and the graphic design and phtography sections. The Art Nouveau rooms were all set up with amazing furniture which included organic and plant forms and seemed to flow in a way that must have seemed quite revolutionary after the formal styles and rigid decorations of former periods. Works of art such as sculptures and lamps were placed in these perfect settings, with nothing being too crowded. We should have seen the water colours and drawings on aother day because we did not have time to do them justice and, having just seen canvases of metres long, their size was less commanding. It was interesting to learn that many water colour artists were innovators in their time, painting whole works in the open air which was not the way when using oils. The early photographs were of scenes or were portraits of individuals with the people posed in best clothes and looking as if they were the subjects in oil paintings. After several rooms with the exhibits in this vein, we finally came to a break through set of photographs in which the photographer had used the same subject but he was taking various roles and wearing costumes to match. Yet again we were reminded that everything that we take for granted or that seems so obvious, at one stage was an innovation that had its supporters and detractors.
It was nearly dark at ten o'clock when we left, but we thought we were not too far from the hotel so we walked. These winding streets were a contrast to the grandeur of the day and were virtually deserted. There were rows of bikes belonging to the handy system of borrowing a bike in the city to get around, with bikes being able to be returned to any of the many racks run by the city council. The walk back was further than we had thought, so by the time we made it back to the hotel, we decided just to have a picnic supper and call it quits for the hour left of the day. The bread we bought at a little supermarket was mouldy in the centre but the tabbouli was delicious and we had plenty of fruit and yoghurt so we were fine. I gazed out of our window and savoured the smells and sights of the little slice of midnight Paris that we could call our own.
The label beside this Toulouse Lautrec picture names all the individuals present. The large figure towards the left is Oscar Wilde and the small figure second from the right is the artist himself.
These bicycles can be hired for free at various places around Paris. You can then leave them at any of the other depots, not having to return to your starting point.
An artist at work along the side of the Seine, close to the Musee D'Orsay. But where are his moustache, beret and smock?
We saw quite a few abandoned bikes around the streets. Everything removable had been taken. It appeared that the wheels on most had been deliberately bent as an act of vandalism.
Scenes around Paris
Whilst we admired most of the architecture in the streets we walked through, we agreed that some buildings were truly hideous.
The view over the rooftops from our hotel window.
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