Although we are trying to make the most of our time here in Paris, I promise not to bore you with a play by play of everything we’re doing, but I do want to tell you about our visit Tuesday to the Petit Palais. The building itself is worth seeing, and I especially wanted to go this week because I had seen posters for a brand new temporary exhibit of Baccarat crystal. Lots of beautiful urns, stemware and pitchers, but my favorites were the chandeliers. This one was in the main gallery to entice you to buy a ticket to see the whole exhibit.

Here are some detail shots of a few of the enormous standing-style chandeliers, sort of super-posh lamp posts.

My favorite part of the exhibit was a dark-walled room with soft music playing and seven or eight absolutely stunning chandeliers alternately brightening and then dimming back to a soft glow, one at a time, as if they were each taking their turn in the spotlight. It was like a minuet, with ladies in hooped ball gowns, and absolutely mesmerizing. Fortunately, the benches along the wall were hard and backless or I would probably still be there!

So put on a little music, and I’ll give you a sample. You can even sit in a comfortable chair and stay as long as you like.

Shine on!

We’ve settled into a little apartment in Montmartre for the week. This one’s on the 7th floor (Americans, read 8th), but fortunately, there is a functioning ascenseur (elevator), because this time in Paris, we had to bring ALL our luggage back from La Rochelle, including every book I’ve bought since we got here. We still have plenty of opportunity to climb stairs. Our nearest Metro stop is 112 steps below the street entrance. (There’s a sign.)

Courtney spent one night with us before flying home on Sunday. Here she is still looking happy even after tramping up and down the hills of Montmartre.

After we saw her off at the airport, we had an excellent conversation with the philosopher-cum-cab driver, who drove us back to the apartment. As usual, David primed the pump by asking a question in English that I translated into French, which always gets things going. Then if there’s a lull, he’ll offer another question for me to translate. Monsieur Taxi insisted that David and I haven’t just visited another country. By staying a while and living as we have, we’ve actually added a second culture to our native culture and have been enriched by it. Not just because it’s French, although he was certainly proud of France, but simply that le voyage and l’histoire–which means both history and story–have more to offer a person than cars or houses or any other material thing. I’d love for you to leave your opinion in the comments section, but we certainly agreed with him.

In that spirit, we decided to go have a look at a bit more of what Paris has to offer, like l’Arène des Lutèce, where intergenerational groups play soccer (le foot) in a first-century arena. Here’s a bit of the beautiful square right next to the arena.

A few blocks further is the Jardin des Plantes, where we saw this . . .

Eventually made our way over to Ile Saint-Louis, where we found the restaurant Aux Anysetiers du Roy for lunch. It was like time travel back to the Middle Ages. Here’s what’s on the wall on the way up to the WC.

The building was constructed in 1617, and the walls were eventually painted to add to the ambiance, although if I understood correctly, only about 100 years ago. Still. Impressive, non?

And here’s the sink. You turn on the water with the knobs on the side of the tank.

After lunch we crossed the bridge over to Ile de la Cité and decided to check out the Crypte archéologique du Parvis Notre-Dame, so a bit more of that surreal sense of existing in multiple eras at once–ancient stone walls all around and several super cool 3-D touch-screen displays that allowed you to swoop in on Notre Dame and see it at various points between 1163 and 1350:

Ended the day on our little balcony with this view, (slightly zoomed in):

M. Philosophe-Chauffeur reminded us that everyone can learn something new every day–that history is everywhere. There’s a story behind every painting, every church, every garden. You just have to give yourself time to hear it. Happy learning!

L’automne est arrivé and is making itself felt even here in France. The color is not as dramatic as in New England . . .

. . . where we are usually to be found in October. But there are the occasional flashes of color, like these  . . . whatever they are . . . on a tree in le jardin . . . 

But mostly, the heat has lost its intensity, the mosquitoes are gone (WOOHOO!) and the days are shorter . . .

We took advantage of a gorgeous afternoon to climb la tour Saint-Nicolas with Courtney. We only had time for one tower, and la tour de la Lanterne has recently closed for renovations and won’t reopen until sometime next year.

Courtney does not love heights, so of course we climbed the tallest of the three. Love all the stairs going every which way. And of course, the view . . .

But perfect weather like we had that day is becoming the exception. The cool and the occasional rain showers make us appreciate les arcades de La Rochelle and, last week, les passages couverts de Paris . . . 

We’re choosing to eat à l’interieur instead of à l’exterieur . . .

And of course l’automne makes us feel like curling up with a good book . . .

The changing season signals other changes as well. Tomorrow is our last day in La Rochelle, and that feels strange. We’ll fit in one last lunch at Les 4 Sergents, courtesy of our kind landlords, and I’ll have one last French lesson with my fabulous tutor, Natacha, who has become another good friend.

The past few days have found me wandering in and out of tourist shops, buying a Charente-Maritime calendar and reproductions of watercolors of the towers and the sea, strongly tempted by other touristy knickknacks to which I wouldn’t have given a second glance a month ago. All in an effort to hang onto something precious, I guess. But of course a refrigerator magnet is not an adequate substitute for this place and these friends. So, we don’t know when, but God willing, we will certainly be back.

We’re here in Paris with Courtney this week, heading back to La Rochelle tomorrow. We’ve visited many of the usual sights, including la tour Eiffel, where we were able to stand on one of the sections of the new glass floor which just opened this week on the first level. Since it’s about 57 meters from the ground (American translation: about 187 feet), it was a little unnerving–and Courtney wouldn’t do more than put the toe of her shoe on it long enough to take a picture. She’s not a fan of heights, so the first level is as far as we went. On the plus side, no interminable line for the elevator to the summit.

One Paris treasure I had missed until now–Palais Garnier, also called Opéra Garnier–is right around the corner from our apartment, so we walked over there this morning.

Lots of gold here, too, like Versailles, but far fewer tourists. I think a few postponed their visit because the auditorium was off limits today, due to a rehearsal. Still absolutely worth it. I LOVED this place, especially the Grand Foyer, where the wealthy patrons used to chat each other up between acts (and maybe still do) . . .

Absolutely stunning.

I love the story of this room, the Sun Room–meant to be the vestibule of a future Smoking Room–and it’s companion, the Moon Room. In all the hurry to finish on time, there was a mistake and the decorative schemes of the two circular rooms were reversed. “So that’s why, if the Smoking Room were finished, you would go through ice to show that you are going to light a cigar, and through fire to show that you are going to eat a sorbet!” said the architect, Charles Garnier.

Fascinating place. There’s even a room with models behind glass of previous set designs:

It’s not all gold . . .

But it is all gorgeous, absolutely from top . . .

. . . to bottom, even the floor!

There seem to be fewer tourists, now that we’re into October, so my patience has had no big challenges this week, which is probably good, since that is not always my strong suit. But today I was inspired by this that David forwarded to me from Richard Rohr:

At the end of our street, which is called Five Points Road, five streets come together. The stoplight at this intersection seems interminably long. One day, as I was impatiently waiting and waiting for the light to turn green, I felt God saying to me, “Richard, are you really going to be any happier on the other side of Bridge Avenue?”

Now it has become my daily meditation place where I get to practice living right here, right now. If I can’t experience God and love and happiness and everything that matters in this impatient moment, I probably won’t experience it on the other side of Bridge Avenue either. As Catherine of Siena said, “It’s heaven all the way to heaven, and it’s hell all the way to hell!” ∼ Richard Rohr

Wishing you peace, patience, love and “everything that matters” no matter what side of the street you’re on!