As is the case in most areas of France seemingly, we can't find a dentist . . . anywhere. I tried 25 in the bigger towns last time we had a semi-emergency - nothing. So, Paris it was. And how efficient the result was and is. We get the train to Montparnasse, cross over the windswept and rather desolate Montparnasse sq (which is apparently due for a 're-looking') and enter the centre de soins dentaire. This time was no exception in the efficiency line of things; carte vital noted, time for a pee and into the chair of terror - I am completely dentist phobic . . . Luckily for me, all was good, not so great for Mark who will have to return next week - bad, as in, work to be done, eek! but good as in he gets another day looking at art and architecture, and eating wonderful Indian food in the Gare du Nord sector.
It is an expense, the travel there and back, but as a cultural, and cheapish experience - if you go easy on the eateries - scarily expensive on the whole apart from our afore-mentioned favourite curry establishments, and the 'Bouillons' scattered around the city (once soup kitchens, and still very reasonable) - it's a trip we would so rarely make otherwise, and, as a pair of artists, it is vitally enriching. Mud, garden, wood fires, dog walks and own work is all great but broken up with city vistas, art and music, well, it's inspiration that nurtures ideas and furthers our various art forms.
Daftest eatery sign of the trip
We had the incredible luck this time of staying in an apartment a few meters from the Arc du Triomph rather than a scraggy Air B and B somewhere many metro stops out. A delightful couple who stayed in our own B and B during the summer extended hands of super generosity and invited us to stay for a weekend or a week! if we liked. We do like! But time away from the rambling house/garden/animals is complicated, so a weekend it was.
I couldn't recall how many decades it was since I went in the Louvre so Mark bought online tickets and we duly queued after the dentist RDV. Some interesting conversations to be filed away such as from a large American family behind us:
Kid of about ten: "Mom . . . how long d'we have to be here? Can we get back to the hotel soon?"
Mom: "Look we're just gonna do the Mona Lisa, OK? then straight back!"
It must have cost them about 60 bucks for the experience of seeing a small enigmatic-looking woman gazing back at them from behind glass and through a forest of iPhones. Still . . . if you are doing the checklist I suppose that's one of the highlights along with the big, pointy metal construction and the church-on-hill experience.
Best 16th century dog portrait
We spent a couple of hours staring at much sumptuous paintwork, mostly Northern European of the C16 and then I was ready to move on. Mark has the capacity to wander like an elegant grey and black attired crane through as many rooms as time will allow, stooping to inspect, or gazing at the bigger works. An hour, and I've had it. I usually fixate on one or two paintings and study them in detail - especially if there are dogs in them - marvelling at the techniques, and just appreciating the mere fact that these extraordinary works have survived for so long, and are hung in a gallery for us to marvel at. It's just too big and busy - the Louvre, for me. I prefer smaller galleries, even really small ones if there is an intriguing exhibition happening. And I like wandering around probably more than any other city experience - see many previous posts on the subject.
Worst art
This trip's wanderings were mostly to the North East of Paris - a voyage to Nanterre - which our hosts, quite understandably, didn't understand when there is the whole of the glorious capital to explore. The reason for the derive was to visit the Tours Aillaud, or cloud towers. Constructed in the 70s by architect, Emille Aillaud, or rather, conceived by him, they are well worth visiting. Extraordinary, towering curved forms, eighteen of them, with landscaped areas and a giant mosaic serpent. The site I looked at before we went said - 'be very wary, it's a dangerous area', or similar fear-inducing words. Possibly at two in the morning if you turn up in a Maserati and slope about dripping in Dior, but it was quiet, peaceful and several locals asked if we were lost as we must have been looking suitably stunned, turning slowly around and staring upwards.
We then walked towards the city centre via La Defence, soulless, yes, but some interesting buildings, fountains and views; then onto the gallery, fondation Louis Vuitton, situated on the edge of magnificent park/woodlands. This is a building to just spend a lot of time gawping at - the sheer madness and brilliance of such a structure; the amount of iron, steel, wood and glass, and the numbers of people who must have been involved in its construction. The pop art expo was good but my joints were suggesting a nice lie down might be a good idea, so we hiked back to our our flat and did just that, followed by an apéro dinatoire (drinks with biggish snacks) with our lovely hosts and a testing of the local Indian restaurant - excellent!
I got a fair bit of sketching done: Seven in the drizzly morning, standing in a bus shelter as the traffic thrummed around the arc du Triomphe, various metros - line 6 is especially great as it passes many landmarks, and the return to home journey as the Pais suburbs zipped passed my TGV window.
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