Saturday, July 3, 2010

Saving France

We took forever to get going this morning. We didn't leave the hotel room until noon. The restaurant downstairs was not open yet, so we walked across the street to the corner bar for coffees. We spoke to a woman with a small dog -- Pomeranian and Peking mix -- and took pictures, along with an old and very large German Shepherd who lives there in languid luxury. Antonia and Darien smile and engage everyone, which is both their strength and weakness. We have more interesting conversations, but it takes us longer to get where we are going.
I stopped to help a woman in our hotel whose doorknob fell off as she was leaving her room (it is that sort of hotel). Outside, I helped a young woman who was struggling to right a vehicle barrier in the street. My motto has become, "Saving France, one woman at a time."
The restaurant still wasn't open, so at my insistence we walked up the street to vendor selling crepes. He cracks an egg on the crepe while it is cooking, breaks the yolk, and smears it around on the crepe while it is on the griddle, adding cheese and other things at our whim while it cooks. He then folds it up before handing it over. My mushrooms drip as I eat; I try to keep it away from my clothes.

We headed off on the train to the Palais de Tokyo. Outside, in the median, is the largest farmer's market I have ever seen, filled with fresh fish, vegetables and fruits, breads and pastries, prepared foods, and other goods. It stretches the length of the block that he museum is on, which is quite far. Before we go inside, we wander around the wild gardens outside. They are maintained by different residents. Antonia says they are her favorite place in Paris, even before she discovered the chickens living there. We toured the museum, which is filled with contemporary art and mostly inscrutable. I chose a large work suspended from the ceiling made from camping tents, looking like a huge mask. Antonia chose an insect installation filled with sound. Darien chose a giant concrete block arch, held in place by a keystone and strap.

We walked across the Seine to the Musee du Quai Branly. It has only been open a few years and is filled to the brim with primitive art. We are all totally entranced -- with the art, with the building, with the lighting, with the displays, with the gardens. I took numerous pictures of faces, mostly masks but also bird people, devils, and grotesques that I'm going to have to edit and delete. I liked the Oceania exhibit and selected one of the male totems. There is a dead tree outside the cabin that I want to carve in homage. Darien chose a screen of some sort that I don't remember -- I hope she has a photo -- and Antonia enjoyed a multimedia exhibit of images and sounds.


We sat in the garden afterward with red wine and a light snack, then walk through the gardens.There was a charming water installation -- emulating sort of a right-sized aid project to help indigenous people create a tool -- including a water wheel and trough made with lots of recycled bicycle parts.

Walking over to the Seine, we find a tour boat. The only thing that kept me from sleeping on the tour was knowing I had spent eleven euros to take it. We walked over to the Trocadero, where thousands of people were cheering a World Cup match between Spain and Paraguay on a giant outdoor screen. We left before the riots started.

We metro'd home to El Dorado and ate in the restaurant downstairs. I had a salad with duck upon Antonia's recommendation; she had had it several years ago when she stayed here. The other two shared a salad and fish dish.

French women have some crazy shoes.

2 comments:

  1. The water wheel reminds me of the book "The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind"...Do they still make crepes on those flat griddles with a handled wooden tool to spread it?

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  2. Indeed they do. I need to spend more time with crepes!

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