It’s our second last day. Dennis wakes early and takes one more shot at visiting the catacombs while I sleep in. Even though he is there at opening there is still a long line up and he decides to pass.
He calls on the walkie talkie from a pastisserie a few blocks away for my sandwich order – how sweet. Over a picnic brunch on our balcony we think aloud about what we want to do, now that time is short.
I want to go to the Rodin museum that Steve has recommended, and Dennis wants to get underground, so searches the guidebooks for information on the sewer tour.
We pick a new walking route and again cross a good portion of the left bank to get to the Rodin museum right beside Les Invalides. Dennis continues on to find his poo tour – as I call it.
(DD: The Sewer Tour turned out be a self-guided (with the help of an English brochure) 20-minute walk through a small section of Paris’ vast sewer system. Their sewer concept was started hundreds of years ago and has been refined to the point that it is now a world of tunnels that are a reflection of the streets above. The tunnels are large enough for special boats that are used to dredge out the debris and silt. They also act as conduits for the fresh water pipes, electricity, communication cables and whatever else they want so that the street level is mostly uncluttered with telephone poles or power lines.
Not surprisingly, the air in the tunnels is humid but surprisingly it smells like you are in the middle of a very large laundry! Not as artistic as Rodin’s Musee, but interesting nonetheless.)
I am blown away by the first sculpture at the Rodin museum, which is not even his…It is by an artist called Wim Delvoye http://www.wimdelvoye.be/gothicworks.php# and is a tower about thirty feet high made of delicate traces of laser cut steel. It is just beautiful and like nothing I have ever seen.
The Rodin museum is mostly in gardens, I love this, art can breathe in the outdoors and the characters he creates seem totally at home in the plantings, woods and fountain. His work is so evocative; emotion flows from his characters and I notice that one statue of a man who looks so in pain has the bronze of its hand polished to a shine by so many people called to comfort him.
The Thinker is here (finally! And not at the Louvre as the guidebook had said!) and many other notable works. In the two-storey mansion there are smaller works, maquettes, and works in clay. The building itself is lovely, and may have been one of the places where he lived after he became successful, the guide is unclear…I will have to look it up.
Visually full, I walk to meet Dennis near the banks of the Seine at Pont des Invalides and without knowing it – we just picked a green space on the map – we have chosen one of the collectives of the Paris homeless. Sad.
We pick a new route to walk to the Champs de Mars and the Eiffel Tower, running into markets along the way with some fruit and vegetables we have not seen before: ridged tomatoes and things that look like squashed peaches, very large green onions, small pineapples and mini bananas that aren’t plantains.
Sitting at the park near the Eiffel Tower we decide we will go to an area we have not seen – the beginning of the Canal St Martin at the Port de Plaisance de Paris Arsenal very near the Bastille. It is a complicated journey by Metro because one of the lines is being repaired and we need to take a bus, but all works well. The subway system here is great as long as we really pay attention to signs.
We debark at Gare Austerlitz and walk across the bridge to the beginning of the canal system…which turns out to be like a marina with boats docked on both sides. It is lovely! Along the side that we walk along, there are flower gardens, with sculptures, kids play areas and enticing places to sit and relax. We find a great sun-dappled patio and settle down to enjoy a beer. Many people are doing the same. I love this about Paris: the pubs can be in the outdoors without enclosure: so refined.
We wander across the street for a less than memorable supper – bad food happens everywhere - then walk around the monument to the start of the revolution and the storming of the Bastille.
There is one thing I realize I would like to do before we leave the city, so we hop on the Metro, hop off and grab a bottle of wine and walk to the Champ de Mars. We plant ourselves on the ground amid the hundreds of Parisians who are picnicking there. Some are in suits and business attire, clearly coming from work, others are set for the evening, or just ready to relax. Some bring blankets, others sit on plastic bags; those who have food seem to be pot lucking it, with bread and cheeses bought from a close store. Everyone has wine or beer, and many sit in large groups. Many two cheek kisses are exchanged as people enter or leave various groups.
Guys walk the Champs with buckets of chilling wine and beer for sale, probably illegal, but customer service!
It is a lovely night and the sunset on the clouds near the tower is beautiful. Slowly she is lit and radiates reflected light with warmth. What a wonderful experience. At precisely 10 pm she begins to sparkle and rock out as we take pictures and laugh.
Our second to last day in Paris ends!
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