May 10-11, 2006

2 Exhausted 2 Write Quint-ennial Vacation

"Sometimes it's better to lose your map anyway
You may end up where you were going
Instead of where you thought you were" – kendall brown
I printed 42-page itineraries for Gramma, the twins, and Alan and I so everyone would know where we were going and where we had been. The first page was headlined with the above quote. When I told people about the itineraries I was pouring so many hours and effort into, I said I knew God was laughing as I laid our plans. What I didn't know was that the angels watching me over God's shoulder as I laid our plans were laughing so hard they wet themselves.
April 28 - April 30, 2006 | May 1 - 3, 2006 | May 4 - 5, 2006 | May 6 - 7, 2006 | May 8 - 9, 2006
May 10 -11, 2006 | May 12, 2006 | May 13, 2006 | Mother's Day, May 14, 2006 | May 15, 2006 | May 16 -17, 2006
European Hitchhikers We Picked Up '06 | Europe 2006 Archive | Newsletter Archive

So here's how it went down from May 10 to May 11 (You don't have to read any of the words! You can just look at the pictures. There will be no test.) :
WEDNESDAY MAY 10

"Tourists don't know where they've been, travelers don't know where they're going."
-- Paul Theroux

At my entreaty, Veronique tried to teach me how to say "Reims" [RAHn – very NAsal]. Tried, I say, because I still can't say "Reims." Of course "Reims" and "Rouen" sound identical to me when Veronique says it. A wise man once said "[Americans] cannot pronounce the Secret French Code letter, which is 'r.' They have learned to say 'r' in a certain secret way that sounds as though they are trying to dislodge a live eel from their esophagus. It is virtually impossible for a non-French person to make this sound."

Reims or Rheims, is a major trade and production center for champagne.

The chief landmark in Reims is the Cathedral of Notre-Dame (13th century, restored after suffering heavy damage in World War I), considered one of the finest Gothic structures in France. The existing cathedral, which dates from the early 13th century, is the last of a series of churches that have occupied the site. It was the coronation church of 24 kings of France, from Louis VIII in 1223 to Charles X in 1825. Charles VII was crowned there in 1429 in the presence of Joan of Arc.

Reims was bombed by the WWI Germans, resulting in partial destruction of the cathedral, which was repaired with the help of a large donation by John D. Rockefeller. On May 7, 1945, in WWII, the city was the site of the signing of the surrender of the German armies.

Cherry blossoms littered the ground pretty much everywhere we went in France, like this spot in back of the cathedral grounds.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaand, we were off! Paris, here we come.

But not before we stopped in Soissons...

The abbey of Jean Saint of the Vines (L'abbaye Saint-Jean-des-Vignes) was founded in 1076 by Hughes Le Blanc, a lord of Soissonnais. It is situated in the south west hills of the city of Soissons in France.

It was occupied by a community of canons Joannistes (disciples of Jean Saint) who had chosen the rule of St Augustin.

Initially Romance, the abbey was rebuilt in 13th century in the Gothic style. The Western frontage was built between the 14th and 16th century.

The thing caught fire. How and when, I dunno. YET...

Why the rest of the stone stuff is gone, stone being impervious to flame, I dunno. YET...

Aaaaaaaaaaaaand, we were off! Paris, here we come.

But not before we stopped for lunch...

We ate sandwiches next to a WWI cemetery for some of those fallen in the Battle of Soissons, 1918: A World War I battled, waged during July 18-22, 1918, between American[, French,] and German troops, resulting in over 12,000 casualties for the former.

Dark German markers were on the other side of the lines of trees at left. Light British markers are in the foreground and French in the back. Among the French were many Islamic markers.

Ironically, the most Jewish markers were among the Germans. Many Germans are remembered by a first name only.

I felt ridiculous, but I cried when I came to the marker for a 17-year-old in the British section.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaand, we were off! Paris, here we come.

But not before we stopped to...

We stopped to photograph this mill surrounded by future canola oil, but it was pretty much straight on the Paris from there.

We reached Rue Du Docteur Babinsky along the periphery freeway with no trouble. Alan parked our "mini-van" next to the Formule 1 at the end of the block. He and Gramma went to see about vacancies. The girls and I stayed in the car to catch up on our journals. I thought the other two were taking a very long time. I wondered if there was trouble getting F1 rooms 441 and 443 (which have a very distant view of the Eiffel Tower). They returned to say that we were staying in rooms 841 and 843 at the Etap at the other end of the block. Gramma much preferred having a shower and toilet in her own room, instead of down the hall at F1, and was happy to pay the difference for both rooms for the rest of our stay, thank you very much. A shower and toilet of one's own is all very well, but what about my view of the Eiffel Tower?! Turns out one gets an even better view of the Sacré-Cœur from Etap's 8th floor. Especially at night!

We were behind the time as our tour of Reims was to have been the evening before instead of that morning (The Luxembourgian Incident). To be able to see certain things we wanted to see (determined by a democratic vote before we left the States), we needed to see the Louvre that night. It is open Wednesdays until 9:45 p.m. Time to skedaddle. Now! Speeding, we introduced Gramma and the girls to the Paris métro system (during rush hour). Maybe this is why Gramma never cottoned to the subway. The girls find it as fun and Alan and I do.

In National Lampoon's "European Vacation" rushing up the steps of the Louvre the mother begs Dad to slow down. He checks his watch and keeps running: "It closes in 15 minutes! There are over 100,000 works of art to see. C'mon!"
Only idiots would go to the Louvre with only 15 minutes until closing. We got there a whole hour before it closed. <sanctimonious nod>

At the Musée du Louvre Kilory was more inclined to take pictures of the ceiling than of the works. She's always been an artist; perhaps she'll end up an architect? She did, however, like this cherub getting ready to go into battle with a helmet as big as he is.

We had limited time and were most interested in DaVinci's The Virgin and Child with St. Anne (c. 1510); Mona Lisa or La Gioconda (1503-1505/1507); St. John the Baptist (c. 1514); and, The Madonna of the Rocks (1483–86). NO! NOT BECAUSE OF THE RON HOWARD MOVIE! I've been reading books about DaVinci (and VanGogh and Degas) to the girls since they were toddlers. They've been requesting to see DaVinci's works (in particular) in person for approximately six years. (And VanGogh's and Degas's generally since toddlerhood.)

But then we found that we had JUST enough time to show the girls the Napoleonic PR paintings of Jacques-Louis David. About to run out of time, we almost ran in spots to get them there.

We shut the place down and returned to our Etap exhausted.

THURSDAY, May 11

"In Paris they simply stared when I spoke to them in French; I never did succeed in making those idiots understand their own language"
– Mark Twain

Our first stop was the Stamp Market at avenues Marigny and Gabriel (métro stop Champs-Élysées-Clemenceau; open Thursday and weekends) overlooking the gardens at the bottom of the Champs-Élysées. On sale are vintage postcards and stamps from all over the world. The famous epiphany scene in 1963's Charade took place here.

I then dragged everyone to métro stop Europe, so we might stroll down Rue de Rome. Rue de Rome is Music Alley! Skeptical at first at how much fun that would be, Nikki and Kilory did indeed enjoy looking at instrument artists creating and fixing all sorts of musical instruments.

We not only enjoyed doing that while strolling along: we also settled a two-week argument between the girls. . .

We'd spent our trip up to this point in our car whizzing past this billboard (at left and right) in various cities at top speeds.

Kilory took the determined stance that the sign said "I love[bug] Paris." Nikki dug her heels in that it was a Mazda, not a VW bug. Every time we drove past this sign they would bicker: Mazda/VW. VW/Mazda. I would growl: Knock it off!

We finally met the sign up close and personal in Paris. I made Nikki stand next to the sign so I could photograph Kilory gloating that it wasn't a Mazda. Then I urged Nikki to show Kilory what it wasn't: a VW. Nissan Nissan it's a Nissan! Still. . .the sign would only make sense to me if it was "I love[bug] Paris."

Speaking of cars. . .during lunch on December 1, 2006, with The Incredible Evan (Teed), he asked Alan and meif we had ever heard of Smart cars. We fell against each other laughing. Trip themes were: "Oh, look! A mini-van!"; "Where's Gramma?"; "Have we killed Gramma yet?"; and, Smart cars. Thank God for digital cameras. Kilory took pictures of nearly every Smart car she saw. Here we have an image of her next to the vehicle she's quite determined to drive someday.

At this point I was dragging them all to Au Printemps department store (Métro stops Havre-Caumartin, or Opéra) so that I might cross something off my "Things-To-Do-Before-Gramma-or-I-Die" list. Au Printemps opened in the 1870s. Its 6th floor Salon de Thé is beneath a belle époque stained glass rotunda. Before Gramma or I died I was determined that we should lunch beneath that stained glass cupola. I almost killed her getting there because there is more than one Au Printemps building and the one with the gorgeous tea salon was the last one to whose 6th floor I dragged them all. At one point we came upon an Au Printemps rooftop café which had Airstream trailers arranged around the terrace. It was an odd site, indeed.

Then we were off to tour the Opéra Garnier and hopefully its underground lake.

Although hope springs eternal, it doesn't always yield results. Thursday was the only day in which touring the Opéra Garnier was possible for us, and on this particular Thursday it had been closed for a special event. Grrrr.

Built between 1862-1875, [the Opéra Garnier's] architect was Charles Garnier. He was only 35 when awarded with the design of the new opera house. When construction was finally started, it was just as quickly suspended after the discovery of an underground lake and spring. Although this problem was overcome, the lake persists and lies beneath the cellars of the building.

Aachen had artsy/weirdo horse statues. Paris had artsy/weirdo bovine statues like these in front of the opera house. Don't ask me why.

No opera gave us more time to scamper around Hediard and Fauchon. [Fauchon] on the toney Place de la Madeleine is expensive, but filled with exotic offerings like Tonganese mangoes, Scottish salmon and pastries so impeccably displayed that a view through the window is often enough.

Across from the famed Hediard and Fauchon is Église de la Madeleine.

First it was to be a church.

Then came the Revolution.

Then Napoléon...decided that a Temple of Glory to his Grande Armée should be built. . .Building started on what was to be a Greek temple. The commemorative role of the edifice was lost when the Arc de Triomphe was completed in 1808.

In 1814, Louis XVIII confirmed that the Madeleine should be a church,

but in 1837 it was nearly selected to be the first railway station of Paris.

Finally in 1842 it was consecrated as a church. And yet it remains more of a Napoléonic Temple of Glory. The half-dome above the altar is frescoed by Jules-Claude Ziegler, entitled The History of Christianity [click on image for full photo], showing the key figures in the Christian religion with Napoleon occupying centre stage. It is a bit much if you ask me. Then again, Napoléon was a bit much. Pure genius gone spectacularly bad.

The front porch (at left) looks down the Rue Royale to the Place de la Concorde and its giant Egyptian obelisk.

Looking back at Église de la Madeleine up the Rue Royale from one of the fountains, the Hôtel de Crillon (where Alan and I once had high tea) is on the left and the corner of the French Naval Ministry is on the right.

The girls found the fountain figure which I think looks like Uncle Wes (Stoops). They sat on the edge of the pool and sang the chorus of "I'm a Lumberjack" in his honor.

This is not the fountain.

We barely dipped a toe into the Jardin des Tuileries next door.

The Parisian website which advised that that the Musée national de l'Orangerie is closed on Tuesday, did not advise that it has been closed for years. The sign amongst all the construction equipment said it was to reopen in spring of 2006, but no dice. The timetables of rennovation/construction teams are universally inaccurate it seems.

We took a bus up the Champs-Élysées to the Arc de Triomphe. On the bus I wanted to take a picture of the girls, faces screwed up tight in incomprehension, trying to figure out the bus stop route. Pointing the camera at them I couldn't help but notice the well-turned-out woman behind them frantically ducking behind the seat to get out of the picture. I lowered the lens to adjust the aperture. Peeking out behind them, she saw the camera was gone, and sat up straight. I raised the lens again. She squeaked and cowered. But now I had to fiddle with the shutter speed. The lens went down, she came up. Aperture and shutter speed set properly at last, I raised the lens. She actually cried out, jumped up and ran to the front of the bus where she continued to stare at me as though I had a bazooka in my hands instead of a Minolta. Ahem. I don't know what the story really was, but in my imagination, it's a whopper!

April 28 - April 30, 2006 | May 1 - 3, 2006 | May 4 - 5, 2006 | May 6 - 7, 2006 | May 8 - 9, 2006
May 10 -11, 2006 | May 12, 2006 | May 13, 2006 | Mother's Day, May 14, 2006 | May 15, 2006 | May 16 -17, 2006
European Hitchhikers We Picked Up '06 | Europe 2006 Archive | Newsletter Archive

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