Sunday, 30 September 2012

Hampton Court


September 30

We needed to pick up our London Passes this morning and the spot didn't open until 10 AM. We took the Tube to Leicester Square and then followed the instructions to the redemption centre, passing the Garrick Theatre, among others.

The passes would give us entry to museums and transit anywhere as far as Windsor, after 9:30 AM. After picking up the passes, we got back on the Tube and headed for Waterloo station. The trains to Hampton Court leave on the hour and on the half, so we didn't have too long to wait before the next train showed up. It was quite crowded for the 30 minute ride to Hampton Court.

We spent the next six hours of so going through all the sections of Hampton Court. The palace was constructed by Cardinal Wolsey, but ten years after its completion, Wolsey had to turn it over to Henry when he was unable to get a divorce for Henry from Katherine of Aragon.

Hampton Court

Great Hall
We started off in Henry’s kitchens where they showed how the meals were prepared during the time of Henry VIII. We then went through his apartments, including the Great Hall, with tapestries that cost as much as Henry’s naval fleet. We were told that carvers worked through the nights to finish the ceilings in time for the wedding of Henry and Anne Boleyn.


We had lunch in the Privy Kitchen Café, where April had a sausage in a bun, but I had a King’s beef and ale pie. The food was great.
Privy Kitchen

We then toured the section that was completed in the time of William and Mary who commissioned Christopher Wren to rebuild the palace. We toured William III’s Apartments and the Georgian Private Apartments. The original plan was to demolish everything except the Great Hall, but there wasn't enough money for this. Grinling Gibbons carved the elaborate fireplaces throughout these rooms.


We were able to see the special exhibit, The Wild, The Beautiful, and the Damned. These were the paintings of the women of the court of Charles II and today was the last day of the exhibit. Various court beauties, in dress of the day, dressed as Greek goddesses, or not dressed at all, were painted by the likes of Peter Lely.  These pictures were often for the King’s personal rooms. 

Queen's Staircase
Candle Sconces

As it was Sunday, services were being held in the Chapel Royal. The chapel is in very much the same state as when Henry VIII lived there and has been in continuous use for more than 450 years. We were able to sit in on the Choral Evensong service at 3:30. We actually got to sit in the pews right behind the choir, women on one side of the chapel, men on the other. Among other hymns, they sang the Magnificat in C http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LUWKSTysnpg and Nunc dimittis in C http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qsnBDU0RTNM, both by Sanford, and Howell’s Like as the hart http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kmtsuJvp7YU.

Wren Fountain

After the services, we walked back to the station and the train was there, waiting for us! We were back at Waterloo station about 5:45.  We then decided we would have dinner at Ye Olde Watling, built in the 17th century from ships’ timbers. Unfortunately, all the pubs and restaurants in the area were closed, being Sunday night in the commercial district. With no little grocery shops open either; we went back to the flat, reconciled to having tea and toast. We decided to help ourselves to some of the pasta from the flat owners' pantry, which we would reimburse once we found a Marks & Spencers or Tesco’s. It was pretty bland as there was no sauce, but it filled us up.  Hardly the Jamie Oliver delicacies from the previous night!

Tomorrow April is going to stay around the flat and I am heading out for a marathon art gallery day – National Gallery for sure, and perhaps Tate Britain and the Wallace Collection as well. I have to be back to the flat around 4 or 4:30 as we have tickets for Simon Callow’s one man play, The Mystery of Charles Dickens, at the Playhouse Theatre. 

Saturday, 29 September 2012

Lothbury


Lothbury

September 29th

We packed up our bags in the morning and then noticed that there was a flea market that had set up on the street.  Once we were packed, we headed down to check out the flea market and to get some breakfast.

It was still early for Parisians (10 AM) and the stalls were just being set out. April purchased a lovely candle holder and then we spotted a table with what appeared to be antiques.  I ended up purchasing a crystal mustard pot, supposedly from 1920. I was afraid of carrying anything so fragile, but the owner extolled the virtues of bubble wrap, and I was convinced.

We then went over to the Café Madeline Bastille which was right beside our building and had a continental breakfast of orange juice, tartin (half a baguette sliced lengthwise, slathered in butter and covered with jam), and coffee.

We then went to collect our bags, lock up and get a cab to Gare du Nord. We were a little worried about how long it would take to flag a cab. We had always seen lots of cabs, but they always seemed to be occupied.  Anyway I bet that we would flag a cab in less than 30 minutes, which April was pessimistic and thought we would be more than 30 minutes and might need to get the café to call one for us.  As luck would have it, we were able to flag one down in less than 10 minutes.  That, of course, meant we were at Gare du Nord around 11:45 for a train that left at 14:13.  We sat in the station watching the announcement board and its constantly flipping letters as trains departed and the others moved up the list.

Boarding the Eurostar was uneventful and, like on our trip from London to Paris, our coach was just as the end of the ramp to the gate, and so we were some of the first to board the coach. 

We arrived at 3:30 London time and then went to get a cab to our apartment.  The queue for cabs was very long and it probably took 20 minutes before we got a cab. The driver was very friendly and agreed to pick us up Thursday morning to take us to Heathrow.

When we arrived at 7 Lothbury, Jen, the greeter from onefinestay, was at the front door.  The apartment building, and flat #9, are magnificent! In Paris we were living like regular Parisians, but in London we are living like royalty. The ceilings must be 20 feet high and have the original carvings from when the building was the Overseas Bankers club. The owners must be very artistic as there are antiques and beautiful art pieces through out the apartment.


Onefinestay arranged everything for us.  We received an iPhone for our use while we are here, and it is programmed with information on what’s around us, what restaurants the owners recommend, etc. If we have any questions, we just press their icon and they’ll help. For example, we couldn't figure out how to turn off the lights in the main area, so I send a text. A while later they told us exactly where the controls were.

Onefinestay also had a welcome kit with cereals, tea and cookies for us to help us settle in before we could get groceries.

By this time (5:30ish) we were getting hungry and so looked up the owner’s recommendations for restaurants.  It turned out that Jamie Oliver’s new restaurant Barbecoa was only 3 minutes away.  We decided to walk over on the off chance that we could get in.  I was sure they would laugh at the suggestion, but when we went in we were told they could take us, as long as we were done by 7:30.


We had a great supper.  Both April and I had the barbeque ribs, which came with watercress and champs, which we found out was mashed potatoes with onion. We also ordered a bread platter, which came with home-made naan, crusty bread and a dark rye.  For dessert we shared the lemon meringue pie.


We walked back to the flat and have settled in for the night. Tomorrow we have to go to Leicester Square to pick up our London passes and we’ll then head out to Hampton Court.

Scandales


Parisian Scandals

September 29

Now that we are safely back in England, we can post about our Parisian scandals.

We arrived on Saturday at our rental and were very surprised at how small it was.  The apartment was as described in the website, but I was shocked when we saw how small it really was. The owner wasn't able to meet us and there was a Vietnamese housekeeper who let us in.  Her English wasn't very good, but we were able to communicate.  When I asked where the kitchen was, she did surprise us when she opened a closet door. It was about a metre wide and 1.5 metres deep. It included cupboards, sink, 2 burner stove, microwave, kettle, espresso maker, dishes etc.


Things settled down for a while, until later in the evening when we were pulling out the sofa bed.  Like most adventures in Europe, it didn't work quite like we expected and there was a lot of tugging and pulling involved.  Anyway, when we got it pulled out, I saw “something” out of the corner of my eye under the mattress.  It looked like a folded up 20 euro bill.  When I looked closer, I could see that it wasn't money and there were several small packages.  Looking closer, I could see pictures of dead mice on the packages and the phrase “raticide”.

To say that I was upset, would put it mildly.  Here it was Saturday night. We couldn't contact the rental agency until Monday.  I couldn't stay there.  I emailed the flat’s owner and I emailed the agency. The situation was totally unacceptable and we needed alternate arrangements immediately.

I looked on-line through all the hotel booking sites, desperately looking for a hotel.  Now nervous, I only wanted chain hotels I knew of.

Well, it didn't matter, as there were no hotels available for Saturday night.  The cheapest places would be at least 2,300 euros (over $3,000) for the rest of the week.  Hotels like Best Western, even if there were rooms, would be over 3,000 euros ($4,000).

I didn't know what to do, but I didn't want to stay there. I texted Katherine and she suggested AirBandB.  She spent hours looking at sites for me and sending along the links. She even contacted one owner, pleading our case.  We spent the night with the lights on and me, at least, “resting” with one eye open.

Sunday morning was spent emailing AirBandB owners, hoping for a response. The first AirBandB owner answered back that her flat wouldn't be available until Wednesday. No one else even replied.

The owner of the flat we were renting called and explained to us that this was a preventative action and that there were no mice or rats. She told me everyone puts it out in Paris and they pay a fumigator to come and put it out 3 times a year. 

I was still a little leery, but what could I do? We had paid for the flat and there weren't any hotels anyway.

Monday we went to the Louvre and when we returned after supper, there was an email from the rental agency saying they were very sorry but it is a very busy time for Paris and they had no other options for me. 

Around 8 PM, the owner’s son-on-law phoned. He was supposed to come over to pick up the rest of the rent.  He was obviously American and again confirmed that this use of poison as a preventative is very common and nothing to worry about.

He came over around 9:30 that night and was a lovely man. He has his Ph. D and teaches Business Ethics at the American University in Paris. He helped us with a number of things.  The toilet seat was broken when we got there. He thought it was a loose nut, but the hinge was broken on one side and he would have to buy a new one.

We hadn't had hot water since we were there and he had us check the breaker and it was off. I turned the breaker back on and the water heater started up.

When he was checking the toilet seat, I noticed water dripping beside the toilet.  There had not been water dripping before.  He looked at it and said it looked like they had installed a new meter and hadn't installed it properly. I was wondering if turning the breaker on had caused the issue as we hadn't seen any water before. He said he didn’t think that would have anything to do with it.

He immediately called for a plumber and said one would come the next day. We put a pot under the drip and had to empty it every 2-3 hours.

The next morning I received a called from the owner. She was furious. We had caused a scandale about the raticide and ruined her reputation with Paris Attitude. As well, we now had broken the plumbing and there was a flood on the floors beneath us, causing another scandale.  I kept telling her that I told Paris Attitude that she and her son-in-law had explained the raticide was a preventative measure and that we were satisfied with the situation.  I told her that we had not seen a drop of water until last night and had wiped it up and put a pot under the drip. 



She could not be calmed down.  Over and over, a scandale. Eight years of renting and she’s never had any drama with tenants except once before with some Chinese, and now two scandales with us!  Oh dear, we were being lumped in with the Chinese!  When her son-in-in-law came over to get the keys so he could empty the pail, I asked him to please explain to Madame that we were two timid Canadians who would never cause any sort of scandal; he said “Don’t worry about it.  She’s French and so she’s always suspicious.  You just can’t internalize it. Just don’t internalize it.”

As mentioned in other entries, the plumber came on Tuesday but couldn't fix the leak as he needed special parts.  We ended up spending all of Tuesday in the apartment and then bought a large plastic garbage pail to use to catch the water. On Wednesday we went to Versailles and the owner’s son-in-law was to empty the pail in the afternoon. He did, but didn't put the pail under the drip, so it must have leaked downstairs all afternoon.  On Thursday the plumbers came and replaced the toilet reservoir. I noticed that they also changed the orientation of the meter, so I'm not sure what was leaking. As of today(touch wood) nothing  else broke.  We didn't dare use the washing machine though as it would have been just our luck to press the wrong buttons and break it.  French-Canadian diplomatic relations couldn't handle another scandale.

We ended up having a wonderful time, but we did notice that the following was spray painted at the doorway of our building.  Is does look like a mouse, doesn't it?



Well, we wanted adventures!

Friday, 28 September 2012

Last Day in Paris


September 28

This was our last full day in Paris and we wanted to take full advantage of it. It turned out to be a beautiful day, with lots of sunshine and blue skies.  Our first stop – Musee D’Orsay.

Our transit passes ended on Thursday, so our first challenge was to get a day pass for the Metro as we thought this would be better than getting individual tickets each time we got on.  We went to our regular station, Bonne Nouvelle, but the machine didn’t sell day passes, only individual tickets. We went to “information”, but she quickly informed us (tout en Francais) she didn’t speak English and she didn’t sell tickets and we had to go to the station Grands Boulevards.  We walked away not too clear on what sort of information she would provide!

Musee D'Orsay
Grands Boulevards station was much more amenable and the day pass was only 6.4 euros.  We then headed for the Solferino Metro station, which was closest to Musee D’Orsay.  We couldn’t find a line for people with passes, so joined the general entry line. We then saw a guard letting people out of the line, so we showed him our passes and he told us to head to entrance “C”, which had no line.  The Museum Pass was an excellent purchase, as were the multi-day Metro passes.

The museum had just opened a special exhibit tying in the outfits worn around the time of the Impressionists and the paintings.  There were Renoirs and Monets and Manets and Tissots, and often the exact dress worn by the model was beside the paintings. April was in her glory, looking at the shoes, gloves, fans, hats, and dresses. I was much more interested in the paintings. Sadly, visitors are no longer allowed to take pictures in the museum, though I saw a few people take pictures with their phones when no guards were around.

After the special exhibit, I headed up to the 5th floor to see the impressionist paintings and April went to the sculpture area. Room after room of Manets, Monets, Degas, Cezannes, Fantin-Latours etc.  We had audio-guides, so many of the painting were described in detail. Once I was done the 5th floor, I headed down to the second, and saw the Van Goghs, Gauguins, and Seurats.  There seemed to be far fewer Van Goghs than I remember from last time – only two of his 40 self-portraits, one of the two Starry Nights, only one of his bedroom and not a sunflower in sight! I then went back to the sculpture area to meet up with April.

We decided to head back to the 5th and eat in the cafeteria, up behind the clock. Sadly, they no longer let your go out on the balcony, but we were able to view Paris through the windows. On our way out of the museum we went through the shop, hoping to find that “perfect” souvenir, but nothing struck my fancy.

It was now about 3 PM and we decided to go and take a boat ride on the Seine.  We walked down to the river and walked along looking for the boats.  While we were walking along, we were approached on three separate occasions by gypsies who would come walking along, would bend down and appear to pick up a “gold” ring and then hand it to us as if to return it to us.  It’s such an obvious attempt to distract you so they can pick your pocket, but three times in a few blocks suggested we weren’t in the best place. We were at the Pont Concorde and Blvd. Ste Germain, so went to the Metro station there and headed over to Place Palais de Justice.

We then decided to go to the antique shops beside the Louvre before they closed. There are enough stores for 250 sellers, but more than half are empty.  There were very few people even browsing.  I saw some beautiful silver sifters, which tempted me. However, the two that were dated (1789 and 1771) were 1,900 euros. The third was 450 euros, but had no date stamp, so I couldn’t talk myself into spending that much money without an assay mark. There were lovely galleries with paintings, bronzes, lots of Art Deco period pieces, and   dazzling jewelry, but the prices were even more dazzling.



Pont Neuf masks

After sitting in a café in Place Palais de Justice (coke and tea rather than wine this time), we walked down to the Pont Neuf as we decided to take that boat trip on the Seine. We got tickets on Les Vedettes du Pont-Neuf and toured for about an hour. We went down as far as the Eiffel Tower and went up as far as Ile Ste. Louis.

Pont Alexander III
One thing that we had noticed on the bridges were all these locks – small padlocks for the most part.  On the boat ride the guide explained that lovers put the lock on a bridge and then toss the key into the Seine to express their everlasting love.

After the boat ride we contined across the Pont Neuf heading to the Ste. Germain area. April noticed a painter selling his wares on the bridge and we ended up purchasing one of his paintings for April (20 euros) and a water colour by his friend for me (10 euros).  We found a little Italian restaurant and had pizza from a wood oven for supper.  We carried on into the Ste. Germain area, passing a jazz band that was serenading the crowd.

We finally got the Metro and took our last ride back to the apartment. The owner called and told us to just lock the door and put the key under the door tomorrow when we leave.  Our train leaves Paris around 2 PM but we’ll head out early as it might be difficult to flag down a cab.

Thursday, 27 September 2012

Musee Jacquemart-Andre


September 27

The morning was spent waiting for the plumber.  Madame Galperine called around 9 to say that the plumber had to pick up the part but would be here in the morning.  When he still wasn’t here but 11:30, I thought we’d be stuck waiting around in the afternoon, but two plumbers arrived around 11:45. They had come on motorcycles in the rain and were carrying their toolboxes and the reservoir for the toilet. 

I hadn’t thought the problem was the toilet but a new meter on the pipe, as that’s where the water had been dripping from.  The two plumbers were obviously the journeyman and the helper (the one who had been here before).  More oohs and tsks as the journeyman looked at the bathroom.  From what I could tell, the helper had said he needed a 20-20 piece but he really needed a 20-25 piece, though I don’t know what piece they were talking about.

The journeyman began to look through his bag where everything was loose and he was combing through hundreds of small tools and nuts and bolts looking for that 20-25. They were pretty quick installing the replacement toilet and then the journeyman called someone and there was lots of heated conversation.  I couldn’t catch most of what he was saying but he was talking about how he chose this because the other was so expensive.  Anyway, they packed up after assuring me that it was all fixed and we were finally free.

We headed out for Musee Jacquemart-Andre on Blvd. Haussmann.  This was a private residence of Nellie Jacquemart and Eduard Andre to house the art they collected.  He was the heir to a banking family and she was a society painter.  Every year they would travel to Italy and collect art.  The house is filled with paintings, frescos brought back from Italy, furniture and statues.

The house is a marvel but it boggles the mind how one couple could amass such a collection. They have Bouchers in the entry, Uccellos, Mantegnas and Botticellis in the Italian room and three (3!!) Rembrandts in the library. Not to mention the paintings by Reynolds, Gainsborough, Franz Hals, Van Dyck, etc.

In our never-ending quest for good food, we had brunch in the tea room. We had quiche, salad and a pastry.  April and I both had the raspberry tart.  It was very good, but unexpected in its construction. It had a shortbread-like base and fresh raspberries on top, but the middle was Chantilly cream.

After leaving the museum, we wanted to go to Le Nain Bleu, a toystore that had been in business for more than a hundred years. We were standing outside a Metro station looking at the map and a woman came up and asked if we needed help. I explained we wanted to go to the Madeline station but that I couldn’t figure out how to get there without several changes. She said yes, it was difficult on the Metro but close to walk to. We were to go down the road to rue Fauberg Saint Honore and then turn left on that street and walk to the Metro.

We are so happy she gave us these instructions. Fauberg Saint Honore is one of the most exclusive streets for fashion, art galleries and the Elysee Palace where the French President resides.  We sauntered along in our comfortable shoes and looked in the windows of Prada, Gucci, Chanel, and others. We found Rue Royale and the Madeline Metro, but couldn’t find Le Nain Bleu. We did come across a Maille mustard store at Place Madeline, but they hadn’t heard of it.  After walking all around Place Madeline, we found Rue Malesherbes, but when we got to the store, it was closed with large “a louer” signs.  In business since 1836 and they shut up shop just before we get there!

We then decided to take the Metro back to the apartment and determine what our next move would be.  We thought about taking a bus tour of the city after dark, but the only ones I could find had to pre-ordered on line.

We then decided to go out for supper.  Not that we were hungry, but it would be along time until breakfast!  We decided we would try to get into Le Chatier. This is a restaurant that was opened in 1896 and has had only 4 owners. It was designed as a place to give a real hot meal to working people.  The menu is simple and they place people where they can fit them.  Although the line-up was long, we didn’t have to wait long. The maître d sat us at a table with a single woman.

I stumbled through introductions and found out she was here on a business trip and lives in Nice. She had been to Calgary and Banff. She helped us with the menu. She had the daily special, which was a beef stew that smelled heavenly. However, when we wanted to order, it was all out. The waiter recommended entrecote, which is beef. This showed up as a steak with a pat of herbed butter on it, and French fries. The steak was very good.  Our female co-diner had been finishing when we arrived, so when she left, they seated a man and a woman.

April and I always disagree about the make-up of these couples.  She always thinks they are father and daughter, but I always think they are older man / younger woman couples.  We haven’t been able to prove who is right, but it probably says something about each of our perspectives!

After a tea and rice pudding for me and an espresso for April, we were off. 

Tomorrow is our last full day in Paris. We will be going to the Musee D’Orsay and will maybe take a boat trip on the Seine.

Wednesday, 26 September 2012

Versailles


We had an early start to the day as the owner’s son-in-law, Robert, was supposed to drop by last night and pick up the key, but called and said he would be too late and that he would be over at 8 AM if that were acceptable.

We were up and showered and ready for our day. I gave Robert the set of keys that I had been using as April had a second set of keys for the apartment. He would come over around 1:30 and empty the pail of water holding the drips in the bathroom and then he would lock the door and leave a key under the mat as he wouldn’t be able to slip it under the door.

As we headed out, we discovered that the two keys April had appeared to be duplicates and both only worked on the lower lock, but not the top one.  I went back in and wrote him a note asking that he only lock the bottom lock as we had no key for the top.

We headed out for Versailles around 8:30. We took the Metro to Les Invalides station and then transferred to the RER C train to Versailles – Rive Gauche. The trip was quick and not overly claustrophobic. The Metro was crowded, but not jammed-in-like-sardines crowded.


It was a cloudy and windy day, but the rain hadn’t come by the time we got there.  It was a bit confusing as to where we would go in. We were in line for gate A but when we got up there was a bit about who could jump the queue (and we weren’t on the list), so we were afraid we were in the wrong line. However, the only other entry I could see was for groups, so after a bit of a wander we ended up re-entering the line for gate A, though a bit further back from where we started.

The tour of the state rooms and king and queen’s bedchambers was as enjoyable as always. This was my fourth trip to Versailles but it was April’s first. The opulence of the surroundings, in contrast to the poverty of the peasants, was quite dramatic.


We had audio guides that were a bit discombobulated at first, but settled in quite well once the main part of the tour began.  Some of the rooms were quite crowded, but all in all it was bearable.  You could hear every language under the sun, it seemed.  One great advance since I was here last is that the tour guides now have microphones and private channels so that they talk quietly into the earbuds of their group members.  Years ago, it would be the German, Japanese, French, English and Russian guides all booming out their commentary so that no one could understand a word and it was just a deafening roar.

Part of the way through we stopped at the café, Angelina’s. Here’s a picture of the pastries they use to advertise their menu.  Unfortunately, we didn’t realize there were two entrances and we went to the snack side where there were fewer options for pastries.  While I would have chewed off my right arm for a raspberry tart, we had to settle on sharing a tarte limon and an éclair fraise.

Once we left the palace tour we walked out to the gardens and then decided to take the Petite Trein on its route to the Grand Trianon, the Petite Trianon, the Grand Canal, and back.

The Grand Trianon was the summer residence of the king and his immediate family. Much less ostentatious than the main Palace, it was still quite imposing.
 
The Petite Trianon was originally built by Louis XV for his mistress Madame du Berry. Later Louis XVI gave it to Marie Antoinette.  Marie did a lot of re-modelling and even had a pretend hamlet built with peasant cottages, so she could play at being a shepherdess.  We didn’t go to the hamet.

It was now around 3:30 and we hadn’t eaten in at least 2 or 3 hours, so we stopped at a creparie. April had a Savoyard crepe, with potatoes, cheese, ham and cream. I got the special which meant I got a crepe with ham, cheese and tomatoes followed by a dessert crepe with brown sugar and a ton of Chantilly cream.

Now it was time to get back on the train. There were two trains at the station and it wasn’t clear to us which was the correct one. The closest one was very crowded and there were lots of very young looking soldiers in camouflage uniforms and carrying machine guns.  April turns to the cutest one at the door and says “Does this train go to Paris?”  He says yes and she climbs up onto the train.

If only it were just that simple.  When she climbed up, she held on to the railing to help herself up.  However, there are no railings at the doors.  She had, in actuality, pulled herself up with the handle of his machine gun!  Apparently he had the safety on and didn’t perceive her as a threat!

We arrived back at the apartment and April unlocked the bottom lock and then discovered that the top was locked as well. Tabernac! What to do? She tried to open the top with each of the two keys she had, but the top wouldn’t budge. We tried the key Robert had left under the mat, but that didn’t work.  How had he locked the top? 

Sitting down in despair, we were thinking that if the key to the top lock was in the apartment, there was probably no one with access except the owner who wasn’t in town.  I had Robert's cell phone number though I knew he would be teaching in the afternoon.  I wasn’t even sure how to call it and whether I would need a French country code (and where would I get that?)

As I was routing though my bag despairing of ever getting in the apartment, somehow, magically, April opened the top lock. We don’t know how she did it and she hasn’t been able to do it again, but we got in.

When we got in the apartment, we noticed that the pail had been emptied – and was still empty! I wondered what he had done to stop the leak.  Quietly I listened and I heard the drip drip drip.  Apparently he had not put the pail close enough to the drip and so it went on the floor rather than the pail.  I don’t want to even think about how much water leaked down. He said he would be over about 1:30, so there would probably be 3 hours of leaking water.  I’m very glad they know we were at Versailles.

We only have a couple of days left in Paris and so have to determine where we still want to go (D’Orsay, Eiffel tower..) and plan our time carefully.

Tuesday, 25 September 2012

Plumbing!


September 25 2012

We had a quiet day today, though that wasn’t the plan!  April was going to stay around the apartment and I was going to head to the Musee D’Orsay and maybe the Musee de Moyen Age.  At least that was the plan.

I mentioned in our previous blog that water had started to drip by the toilet. The owner’s son-in-law was here when we discovered it and he called a plumber. We put a pot under the drip, but had to empty it every two hours, all night long. 

We waited for the plumber and he showed up about 10 AM.  He spoke no English, but the tsks, and ohs that he uttered, told me it wasn’t very good. He called the owner and she then told me that he needed a special part that he didn’t have. He would have to go out and see if he could buy it.

We waited around all day as the plumber couldn’t get in if we weren’t there. Finally around 5 PM the owner called and told us that the plumber had gone to 7 stores and couldn’t find the part he needed, It was special ordered and wouldn’t be in until Thursday! I asked her whether there was a way we could turn the water off when we left for the day, but it seems the water tap would turn off all the water in the entire building rather than just this apartment.

The owner knew we had planned to go to Versailles on Wednesday, but I told her we couldn’t leave the water dripping.  The owner told us not to worry, just put the pot under the drip. I told her the pot would fill in 2 hours and so we couldn’t leave the house for the full day.

She told me to go and buy a pail to catch the water.  We walked down the boulevard and found a store with cheap household goods.  We found a plastic waste basket that looked like it might do the job, though it would probably need to be cut down where the pipe was. 

We got it home and I cut a chunk out of the pail and put it under the pipes. The cut is not deep enough but I’m nervous that it might split if I keep on cutting.  While I was fiddling with the pail, the owner’s son-in-law called and I explained the situation,

He will come over tonight and get one set of keys. We will head out to Versailles in the morning and he will drop by around 1:30 and will dump the water that would have accumulated all morning.

Hopefully the plumber will be here early Thursday and will be able to fix the problem quickly.

Well, we said we wanted adventures!

Monday, 24 September 2012

The Louvre


September 24

We took it easy this morning, sleeping late and having a petite dejeuner of pain au choclat and tea.  It had rained overnight and in the morning, but had stopped when we went out. When we eventually headed out, we took the Metro to the Louvre. When we got into the square outside I.M. Pei’s triangle, we could see a line-up that stretched the full length of the courtyard.


As we approached, we saw there was a cordoned off area for ticket holders. As we had museum passes, we asked if this is where we went, and alleluia, it was!  Merrily skipping ahead of thousands of people, we entered through the escalators in the triangle.

The entry level of the Louvre was teeming with people. April likened us all to ants in the most fabulous ant farm!   We headed off to see George de la Tour’s Card-Sharper.  Walking miles and miles to get to the room, it wasn’t there!  I then headed off to see the Vermeers, hoping they weren’t out on tour!

On my way, I saw hundreds of paintings that I would love to spend hours examining.  It was a shame to run through the Rembrandt rooms, paying little attention to his wonderful paintings.  I saw wonderful Van Dycks and then found the Vermeers – both right where they were supposed to be.

Obviously I’m not the only one interested in Vermeers – no one was around most of the Rembrandts but there was always a crowd around the Vermeers.  The two owned by the Louvre are the Astronomer and the Lacemaker.

I saw lovely Fra Angelicos, and Cimabue’s Maesta. We then headed over to see the Italian paintings. We didn’t think we’d push our way through to the Mona Lisa, but I wanted to see the other Leonardos.

The crowds were stifling- and no matter which way I went, it seemed I was always going upstream!  We finally did get to Leondardo’s Virgin and Saint Anne, Virgin of the Rocks, Saint John the Baptist and others. We peeked into the Mona Lisa room and got three quarters of the way up, but didn’t press any further.

We saw the Rubens’ Catherine of Medici series. The scale of these paintings is amazing.

We headed into a cafeteria in the Louvre for lunch and got there about 1:30. I sat and April got in line. She was almost 30 minutes in line (and $30 in cost) for two salads!

After leaving the Louvre we went down to the Tuilleries and then crossed Rue Rivoli and went into a café. It was very windy, but refreshing after the crowds. April had an apple tart and I had a crepe sucre. April ordered un Americano et lait and I ordered a café latte, but we both got lattes.

Now around 4 PM, we decided to head to Notre Dame. Using our transit passes, we got on at the Tuilleries’ station and out at le Cite. We went into Notre Dame and asked where we took the tour as our Museum pass provided for that.  We ended up just walking around as I suspected the “tour” was just an audio guide.  If I felt I was going upstream in the Louvre, I was a real salmon in Notre Dame as we did go clockwise and everyone else went counter-clockwise.



After leaving Notre Dame, we decided to go up to Les Halles and to try and find a kitchen store called Dehillerin.  We decided to get a cab rather than walk back to the Metro.  Instead of just giving the address to the driver, we just said “Les Halles”. He let us out at the corner and said to go up and right.  I don’t know if he meant the area or the shopping centre but we walked quite a way before finding the place we were looking for.

Along the route, we passed the Church of St. Eustache, which reminded me of Quebec. 

The Dehallerin store was something else. Opened in 1820, they specialize in high end baking and cooking items. Everything is jammed in and goes up and up and up. There are ladders for the staff to pull out that copper pot, or mandolin. When you decide what you want, you stand in line.  A clerk writes down what you have.  You then fill in your name and address on the sheet.  You then wait in line and hand over that sheet.  That woman gives the sheet to a second woman who types the information into a computer and prints off an invoice. The first woman then tells you what you owe, takes your money and gives you your change. You then take the computer generated invoice over to another staff member who now wraps your items!


After that adventure, we needed a glass of wine.  We found a corner café and sat for a few minutes.  I then saw a pharmacy and went over to see if I could get something for the congestion I still had from my cold.  Mon dieu! The pharmacist was talking with a woman about her medication. I am sure we were standing for 15 minutes and they were still chatting.  I then saw the other line had emptied, so moved over and told the other pharmacist how I had a rheume and un mal du gorge.  I brought out a box that looked like Sudafed or Advil cold.  He then asked me if I had an addict.  Addict? Oui, Madam, an addict.  “Je ne comprends pas, monsieur” I said, thinking if he thought I was an addict, did he expect me to acknowledge it? On the third attempt, he pointed to his forehead – addict.   Oh, headache.  Non monsieur, no addict.

We then scooted across the street to a little grocery store to pick up baguette, cheese, pate, water, and some small items for while we were here. Well, the bags were pretty full and the plastic was pretty flimsy.  My baguette was crushed before I got very far. 

We looked at the map and were going to walk home as it looked like it was only two Metro stops.  However, as I read the map, I thought we should go one way but April said we were going back to the river and we needed to go the other. I was pretty sure and suggested we go a few blocks.  After passing the Bourse (stock exchange) I saw two police and asked for directions. Station Sentier – en haut, pointing the direction I was walking.  Non, madam, they smiled, en bas!

At that point we decided to take the Metro.  Les Halles at rush hour.  If my baguette hadn’t already been crushed and mangled, it would have had no hope in this crowd.  A couple of stops later we were walking up the stairs of Bonne Nouvelle, “our” Metro station.

We got home and were enjoying our mangled baguette and pate (with April lamenting, we should have bought a bottle of wine).  The owner’s son-in-law called and said he’s be over to pick up the rest of the rent and to look at the toilet seat, as it was broken.

Madame Galperine’s son-in-law, Robert Earhart, dropped in. He’s originally from California and has been to Calgary and has skied in Banff.  When looking at the toilet, we noticed the pipe was dripping.  When I had spoken to him on the phone, I asked if there was something I needed to do to get warm water and we discovered that the breaker was off. I turned it back on and I think that’s what caused the leak to show. He said they had a plumber in to put in a meter and it looks like it was not done correctly.  Thanks goodness he was here when it happened. He called immediately and they will be sending a plumber to fix it tomorrow.  He also brought over a bottle of red wine for us from the owner, so April did get her glass of wine.

The plan for tomorrow is for April to stay around the apartment and I will head to the Musee D’Orsay. She is museumed out and wants to save her energy for Versailles on Wednesday.

Sunday, 23 September 2012

Our first weekend in Paris


September 22 – 23
We left the Radisson around 10:30 on Saturday morning. We had a great ride in a black cab.  As we were passing the Albert Memorial and the Albert Hall, he noticed and then talked non-stop until we got to the train station.

It was very interesting to hear how the cabbies suffered during the Olympics.  It seems everyone who bought a ticket to an event was given an Oyster card for the tube and there were 25,000 BMWs driven by volunteers to escort athletes and dignitaries around. He said even the hotels suffered as, while they were full, people weren’t eating and drinking at the hotels.  He said, then Ramadan came and the Arabs (the ones with the real money) stopped eating and drinking during the day, so the hotels were just getting back to normal.

We arrived at the train station by 11 and our train only left at 12:25.  We had a late breakfast and people watched before heading to the Eurostar.  We were really caught off guard as we had to go through security just like at the airport. The difference, however, was that we had our suitcases and they had to lifted up onto the conveyor belt to go through screening just like purses!  I am way too short and old to be hefting a 22 kg suitcase up a metre!  We then had to wait to board as they only board 20 minutes before departure.

We lucked out, however, as we were in coach 4 and there was a ramp to coaches 1-4 and so we were the first ones on. We had reserved seats, but had to put the suitcases in racks in the vestibule – more lifting. We figured out by then that we should work together when lifting and that made it easier.

The train ride was very enjoyable, but went so fast that our ears kept popping.  We were 16 minutes travelling under the English Channel, 300 metres below the seabed!  April was a little verkempt  about being under the Channel, so I took a picture of her putting on a brave face!

We arrived at Gare du Nord and got our welcome to Paris traffic. Ooh la la!  Cars going every which way, no apparent order of operations, cyclists pulling out in front of the cars and then sauntering along (no helmets) just knowing no one would hit them!

We found the apartment without too much trouble. The owner wasn’t able to meet us as she had to mind her grand-daughters as her daughter, a doctor, had to make a trip to Libya.  Her housekeeper met us and showed us in. The elevator was typical – can barely hold one person and one suitcase!

The building is old, 18th century, and has exposed beam ceilings (and walls on the landings and stairs). It’s tres petite. The “kitchen” is actually in a closet, about .5 metre wide and 1 metre deep.  The coffee maker is an espresso one which we can’t make head or tail of.

We are right on a main boulevard, which is good and bad. There are cafes below and beside and across from us, and the metro station is a block away. However, Saturday night in Paris means the party starts around 10 PM and keeps going until 6 AM! Boom boom boom goes the bass of the dance music.  The windows are good and keep out most of it, but you know it’s there!

After scouting around the apartment, we walked to the tourist and convention centre and picked up out Paris passes for the museums and the metro.  We were going to have a quick bite at the Café de la Paix in front of the Opera House, but it was unbelievably noisy.  Something was up, though we never learned what, as there were police everywhere, some in riot gear with shields, sirens blaring, and probably a dozen paddy wagons parked along Blvd. des Capuchins! All looking very nonchalant with Kevlar, shields, cigarettes and cellphones!

After looking at the menu at Café de la Paix and seeing they wanted 25€ for a hamburger (~$35), we decided to head down Blvd. des Capuchins and find something quieter and less expensive.  We went down a side street and found the George VII square, with a bar called Bertie’s.  We carried on and went into Le Creperie des Artistes, a little hole in the wall with pictures of French actors, none of whom we recognized.  We ordered crepes and a half bottle of wine and then slowly walked all the way back to the apartment.

We eased into the day on Sunday, going down to the café next door for an “English” breakfast around 11. For breakfast, we were given a wineglass of orange juice and half a toasted baguette with lots of butter and jam. This was followed by a delicious omelet and coffee.

Afterwards we headed back to the apartment to plan the day.  Our goal was to take the metro to Montmartre.  As we headed toward the metro station, we could hear what seemed to be a parade. We kept walking until we saw them.  There was a Brazilian festival going on and there were hundreds of drummers and dancers parading down the street.  We watched the entire parade and the people who joined in on the dancing, though I couldn’t convince April to dance down the street.


We then made it to the metro and headed to Montmartre.  Leaving Abbesses metro station, there is a warning that there are lots of stairs to climb – 115 in fact! We made it, but had to rest a few times on the way up, though we weren’t the only ones to stop and catch our breath!  When we got to the top, there was an elevator, disgorging crowds of much smarter travelers!

We walked through the side streets and then took the funicular up to the Basilica of Sacre Coeur. We strolled around and looked at the paintings in Place de Tetre.  April wanted to get a picture for their new place and settled on a small pen and ink sketch.  Here she is with the artist.

We went back down the funicular, had a drink and pommes frites at a corner café. April (who can never pass up a trip to a toilet), ran into her first (and hopefully last) squat toilet.  Back to the metro station (going down 115 stairs is so much easier than going up), and back home for a rest.  We’ll probably head down toward Notre Dame this evening.

Tomorrow – the Louvre!

Friday, 21 September 2012

Warwick, Stratford and Oxford


September 21, 2012

We took a trip to Warwick Castle, Stratford-on-Avon, and Oxford today.  I booked the trip online through Viatour.  We needed to go to Victoria Coach Station on Buckingham Palace Road.  We took the Circle and District subway line to Victoria underground station.  This is different from the train station, which is different from the coach station.  People are very helpful when you ask directions, but “just turn left at the corner” means turn left and go for 5 or 6 blocks, which is hard when you don’t know that or know what the building looks like!  We gave ourselves plenty of time and after a couple of “can you help me?” requests, we arrived at the bus terminal.  Oodles of tour buses, probably 10 across and several deep, all ultimately filled.


Unbeknownst to us, Friday’s trips are bilingual – English and Spanish.  At first I couldn’t place the tour guide’s accent and thought she had a lisp, but when she went on to explain she would be telling each story in the two languages, I realized it was the Spanish lisp I was hearing.

Our first stop of the day was Warwick castle.  Originally built in 1068 by William the Conqueror,  Richard Neville played a key role in the War of the Roses, helping to depose two kings, Henry VI and Edward IV. There was significant reconstruction around 1700, with gardens done by Capability Brown.  Later on Daisy, Countess of Warwick was the long-time mistress of Edward VII. The Earldom is the only one which specifically includes the right of inheritance through the female line. The castle and its grounds were bought in 1978 by the Tussaud Foundation.

Next we went to Stratford-on-Avon. We toured Shakespeare’s home and garden.  There were actors there who explained life in 1575.  For example, children would sleep in a trundle bed beside their parent’s bed until they were old enough to be trusted to walk around the house with a lit candle, which was considered to be about 5. Due to fear of fires, all houses had to put their fires out at 8 PM, and the houses became very cold within a couple of hours. Children older than 5 slept in either the boys’ room or the girls’ room, with all siblings sharing a bed.  Servants slept on the floor in the parents’ room.

The beds were wood frames with ropes tied across, covered with rushing and then with a linen bag filled with wool.  As long as the ropes were tightly tied, it is a very comfortable sleep.  That’s why people still say “Good night, sleep tight.” 

These were plague years and people were sure plague and sickness were brought by evil spirits.  You could not sleep lying down – that suggested you were dead. The parents would sleep with pillows rising them up. Servants would put a log to hold up their bedding.  Babies were blanketed in red as everyone believed evil spirits avoided the colour red. Finally, it was thought that girls didn’t need protection as they usually survived sickness; therefore parents dressed their sons as girls when they went to bed!

Next we went to Oxford. It started to pour, but when we did the walking tour, the rains stopped.  We visited Christ Church College, one of the 38 colleges that make up Oxford University. Christ Church College was founded by Cardinal Wolsey and has 750 students, making it the largest of the colleges.  It is the inspiration for Harry Potter’s Hogwort’s school.  The only area of the school that was used in the films was the staircase, where Professor Mcgonagall (Maggie Smith) greets the new students.  Tuition is 9,000£ per year for students from the British Isles, 13,000£ for foreign students .

After a 10 hour day, we were dropped back at Victoria underground station.  Driving through the streets of London, the guide told us to always take black cabs as they are the official cabs of London.  The drivers still have to pass the “Knowledge”. They are tested on their knowledge of the 320 routes, 25,000 streets, and 10,000 landmarks within a six mile radius of Charing Cross. Seems a bit over the top in the day of GPS! We also learned that the reason black cabs’ roofs are so high is that they were designed at the beginning of the 20th century when gentlemen still wore top hats, so they were made high to accommodate them. They’ve never seen reason to change the design.

We took the tube back to Gloucester Road and went looking for supper.  There were countless restaurants along the street, but I was not in the mood for something fast.  We then found the Wildwood restaurant.  It was an Italian restaurant, so we both ordered a glass of the house wine, and bruschetta to start. April had lasagna and I had spaghetti with oak roasted salmon.  The meal was fantastic, with April telling the waitress and owners that she had never had more delicious bruschetta or a better lasagna!  We ended the meal with a cappuccino  for me and an Americano for her, tired but very pleased with ourselves!

Tomorrow, we are off to Paris on the Eurostar.