simplybrad

I am up early and I feel great. It's raining. I bought an umbrella when I purchased the plug adapters. I decided on the Louvre today because Musée d'Orsay does not open until 10:30 on Saturdays (opens at 9:30 on Sundays). Today the Louvre opens at 9:00. I am in the courtyard. It is still dusk out. The sun has yet to rise. The lights cast interesting patterns on the ground. Exploring the grounds I take some photos, hopefully capturing the calmness that is soon to fade away. There are about ten of us waiting in the drizzle as if willing the doors to open. Happily it is not cold out, just a little damp. I have read about this place often. The objects inside have been in many of the books I have read, both for pleasure and in school. This is the single largest place in the world housing the world's largest collection of art. An amazing place. Being the first into the Louvre (the people in front of me had bags to take through security), I make “Mona”? my first stop. No matter how good the printing is in books, nothing matches viewing the real thing (that could be said of most things). Mona is smirking for her new digs, drinking all of the attention she receives on a daily basis. I think this is why she is really smirking, oui? I have never been into sculpture. This visit has changed that. For me the sculptures in this place overshadow the paintings. I am sure the photos I have taken represent this new-found appreciation. Saying the Louvre is expansive is being modest. It’s huge and one day does not do it justice. It needs to be enjoyed in small doses over a long period of time. I explore the museum and take some notes on what I would like to further study. It is nightfall as I leave the Louvre.

I have one more destination for the day, L’Ami Jean. I don’t make it in time to get in on the first wave. I should have made a reservation. Only two people are eating at the moment but the place will fill be full in about twenty minutes. Since they are not open on Sunday or Monday, it’s tonight or never (at least on this trip). I make a 10:30 reservation and say au revior.

I have a couple of hours to fill. Shouldn’t be hard to do. I head over to the Champs Elysées, back over towards Place de la Concorde to take in the walk up the tree-lined section. It is great walk until you get past the Grand Palais. then it turns into an American strip-mall that takes over unitl you get to the Arc de Triomphe. To bad. I guess it was different in its day. The real shopping takes place over in the Saint Germain/Latin Quarter area. On my way I up I make a stop at the mother-ship. Publicis Groupe. HQ for the owners of the company I work for. I stop into the publicisdrugstore to browse and have a drink at the tapas bar. After a couple of drinks I leave the mother-ship I cross over to the other side of Champs Elysées and start my way back. I see a scarf that catches my attention AND is not expensive. I hate the one I have so it was an easy choice. It was maybe 12.00 euros. I am happy. I also pick up a “man purse” to carry all of my crap. Map, guidebook, iPod, flashlight and gum. I always gave Mike a bad time about one but they are handy. I am not alone. I see them everywhere. Somehow it does not seem odd here. They are showing up more often in Chicago. In the states they are called european men’s carry-all. It’s still a man-purse however you look at it.

I get back to L’Ami Jean's around 22:15 and grab a stool at the bar (there are only trois), and order up a glass of bordeaux. Two gentleman occupy the others. They are happy. It seems in a game of rugby today, the underdog blue-collar team ousted the white-collar prima-donna team. Something they were quite happy about. It seems that it is a rarity. A table clears and I leave the two guys to their celebrating. Fortunately the waiter speaks English because it is a full menu tonight, no fixed menu. After a run through the menu I order a calamari appetizer, followed by venison and then a glazed pear dessert. It is phenomenal! Deer never tasted like this. I savor my meal along with another glass of bordeaux. During my meal I chat with the other patrons. I am happy to hear that the couple to my right had problems with the menu too. They are Parisians. They chalked it up to the heavy basque influences of the owner. Maybe they were just being nice to me. I think not. It is a family place and everyone seems know everyone else. You would miss this place if you were just walking by. An espresso finishes the meal perfectly. Well, maybe an Armagnac or two perfects it. It’s 1:00 and closing-time. I say goodbye and thank everyone for a terrific meal and company. The walk back is uneventful. No burning cars. I do notice that police are on every corner and I mean EVERY corner.