Marche aux Puces, Paris

Ah, the Marche aux Puces in St Ouen Clingencourt. It's yesterdays treasures and today's trash all jumbled into a chaotic maze. Armed with our map (it's not one market, it's many) we fought our way past row upon row of knock-off Nikes and cheap clothing to get to the far more interesting markets shooting off of the Rue de Rosiers.  Our favourite by far is Vernaison. We were on the hunt for some cool vintage flatware, and while this place isn't where you'll find the deal of the century, the selection was vast, and there was room for wheeling amd dealing.  The overall experience was fantastic. We chose these beauties from about 1880. A set of twelve. They're in pretty great shape, especially considering they've been in use longer than Vancouver has been a city.  Seriously. The knives are still the original steel. One of them is a little pitted, so if you come to our house for a 12 person dinner party and you are the last person to arrive, you're getting the pitted knife. Consider yourself warned. 

Our other 'treasure' is a lovely little painting done on a slat of tongue in groove. It reminded us of Normandy, which has been on our minds, and of our house.  We think we have the perfect spot for it at home. 

On our way home we Stopped on Caulincourt for an apero and some live music. They love their jazz trios here.  Afterwards we walked to Clichy to check out the cinemas, but instead stumbled on a street book sale and rounded off our one day of shopping with some great book bargains. Loaded down with all our new treasures, we collapsed into a Belgian restaurant for espressos and a dessert that included speculos (my fave Belgian cookies) and made us excited all over again for our upcoming visit to Belgium.

Not that we're in any hurry to leave here.  

Louvre, Orsay and the Van Gogh Effect.

Text says:

"Sitting at the Marly Cafe absorbing the scene here at the main courtyard of the Louvre. Architectural genius or "a scar on the face of Paris" (we watched the da Vinci Code last night)?  Well, I've always been a fan of contrasts, and the way the reflections of palace and sky are dancing across the panes of the pyramid as I sketch seem fitting in this historical and cosmopolitan plaza. We did a big tour of the Musée d'Orsay earlier In the day.  I found myself, for the second time in my life, standing in front of an original Van Gogh with tears running down my cheeks. Something about the way he paints makes me feel his hand on the brush and see the scene through his eyes. So many amazing works here at the Orsay, not the least of which is the building itself. Afterwards we walked the Tuileries and ended up here. Now, Greg's been hugely patient while I sketch my way across this amazing edifice, it's time to cross the Pont Neuf and go explore the left bank..."

Le Festival Soirs d'Été at Place de la République

Took the metro to Place de la République last night (thanks free Paris Metro app, so much easier to get around) to catch Le Festival Soirs d'Été.  What a scene. The Place is huge and gorgeous and recently reno'ed, and the people watching was fantastic!  There's a kiosk in the middle of the Place selling wine and beer, but most people bring their own.  Even in a crammed party crowd like that people are picnicking here. Love it. 

Saw this band, Boulevard des Airs, kind of Manu Chau-esque. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9vKSi8jH6N8&feature=youtube_gdata_player

Afterwards we wandered the hood and found a great late night dinner spot. 

Just found out from my lovely Belgian buddy that their king has abdicated, and that his son will be crowned while we're there. How's that for a Forrest Gump moment?!  

Now it's off to the Musee d'Orsay for us, with maybe a little picnic in the Tuileries.  Did I mention that I love Paris?

Paris, mais oui!

We're in Paris!

But wait, I skipped a few chapters.  

After leaving Pommard I drove through Bourgogne to the airport to get Greg. It's way more fun on a honeymoon to actually have your spouse with you.  We got in the car, asked the gps to take us to Lion Sur Mer, hit the 'avoid toll roads' option to get the scenic route, and headed off. 3h30 it told us. That's livable. 

Cut to 3h30 later. We're in a traffic jam not even really out of Paris yet. Time to destination? About the same as when we left.  Crazy traffic. My thigh was trembling from having to ride the clutch for hours on end. Seven hours later we reached our destination. Jasmin was there to welcome us with an aperatif (love this country) at Villa Louis, a wild, art filled former dance hall/casino/museum that has stood on this beach for 150 years.  It was here when Napoleon Bonaparte became the first president of the French Republic.  It was here when the allied troops stormed the beaches we look at through our upper floor window. Crazy.  It's chaotic and magical, stuffed with collections and treasures.  In the morning we did a little history tour of the d-day beaches.  Very moving.  More on that later (sketches too). 

We left Normandy for Paris that afternoon, this time picking the fast route. The gps took us straight through the heart of Paris. In rush hour.  It was a bit white knuckled, involving high levels of teamwork.  The Arc de Triomphe was insane!  The car right in front of us got rammed by a truck that managed to squeeze between two non-lanes and disappear. So could have been us. Greg scanned for danger as I tried to stay steady on the wheel, and somehow we managed to get that car parked 6 floors under the Gare du Norde, down a ramp that could double as a spiral staircase, at exactly the right time. Thank you gps. 

So now here we are. The apartment we're staying in is lovely, airy, with a view of the rooftops of Paris that I will never forget. We're in the heart of Montmartre. Day one we headed up to the Place du Tertre and breakfasted while I did this sketch. 

Afterwards we visited Sacre Cour and wandered the streets of our hood for hours. We dined on rue Lepic (where both Van Gogh and Hemingway, two of my faves, once lived), then ended up back at Place du Tertre for a very entertaining nightcap. 

Here's a quick sketch of the rooftops from the apartment. Did I mention that I love this place? 

Beaujolais, Burgundy, Beaune and the lovely Pommard

I'm tucked into my little airbnb spot in lovely Pommard. It's been a long day, driving out of Lyon, through the towns in the  Beaujolais and Burgundy regions, all vineyards and golden stone villages glowing in the sunlight, then on to Beaune, and the extra few minutes up here. This town is tiny. It looks like the place where Chocolat was filmed, but smaller, with narrow little streets that bob and weave, and great vistas of vineyards filling the gaps between the stone fences and villas. My bnb is actually a little winery/tasting room.  I sat out front sampling their wares and sketching the street scene.  My neighbours were out there too, down from Amsterdam for theweekend.  They had a Barbra Streisand doll who travels with them.  They dress her up  in cute outfits and take photos in cities all over the world.  Yes, they post them on her facebook page.  Will investigate when I'm less tired.  

There's apparently one really good restaurant here in Pommard that you need to book weeks ahead to get in to, and one other one that I just couldn't get interested in, so I drove back to Beaune for dinner. It's one of the biggest wine centers in France, and it attracts a lot of people. The architecture is truly astonishing.  Loads of Medieval and Renaissance buildings everywhere!  Apparently there's even some pre-roman structures still standing there.  It was a walled city, and a lot of that is still intact.  Old Town, in the centre, is loaded with cafes and restaurants all spilling out onto sidewalks. There's a real scene here. Very international. Lots of what i think might be Dutch and German being spoken.  I sat in a cafe and ate boeuf bourginon and had a glass of something lovely from the area. When in Rome...

I had to laugh whenI saw this little pencil case. For anyone who knew me when I was post-crash, two arms in casts, checking my email with my toes on the computer, you'll get whyI had to buy this. It says: "they adore my method of checking emails". It's now holding all my sketching pens. 

So, goodbye Lyon. It was an amazing experience from start to finish. I made good progress speaking French, and I made a couple of friends I will keep forever.  My last night, rather than going out, I curled up and had one last lovely dinner with Dominique, followed by my first ever game of Scrabble in French!  This morning I met up with Julie and did one last tour of the Presqu'isle, lunch on the banks of La Saune,  then walked up to Part Dieu to pick up the car and head out. 

Thank you to everyone, Dominique, Julie, my prof Laura, and the staff at Lyon Blue.  I would SO do that all over again. 

Now on to pick up my hubby in Paris tomorrow and start the next chapter. Yay!

Resto Bistrot in Vieux Lyon

We are wandering the streets of Vieux Lyon, my friend Julie and I.  It's one of the largest Renaissance districts in all of Europe, which makes it pretty prime sketching territory.  We were initially looking for the Traboules, the secret passageways that connect one street to another through hidden doorways, used most recently to evade the Nazis, but they were apparently too hidden for us today.  There are a million incredible viewpoints here  The one that is ending up in my sketchbook, this peek into the doorway of the Saint George Church, was carefully selected by my stomach. We were tired and hungry, and there was a sign out front offering mini raviolis with salad and a 'bon prix' for a 'pot' (pronounced Poe, as in Edgar Allan) of wine. Sold.  It's less touristy here than around the Cathedral St. Jacque just up the road.  The walls around us are loaded with tins, bottles and boxes from another era. The prices are written in francs on little cards fixed to the front of the old wooden shelves.  The tablecloths are red and white checked (bien sur) and the pot of wine is served  with sturdy little glasses.  The people in the restaurant all seem to be local, and all seem to know each other.  Lots of cheek-kissing going on. We can't help but notice that the faces here are just so...French!   We are both working on our journals, doing our best to speak only in French, a battle we're mostly winning. The patron is fussing over us just the right amount to make us feel welcome but never hurried.  

This is pretty much exactly what I signed up for. 

My Lyonaisse Nest and le Petit prince

Here I sit, sick in bed. 'J'ai attrapé un virus' is the French version. It's an opportunity to stay in bed, and to use my favourite new French expression, 'Rien de tel que...', 'what better to do than...'. I love my little nest here. Note the coffee mug that matches the bedding. 

I picked up this postcard of one of my fave statues here. It must have been shot a while ago, because now the statue is obscured by trees, which makes it even more magical. 

Text under the postcard reads:

When I arrived at the apartment here in Lyon there was a copy of Le Petit Prince waiting for me  on the desk in my room. Lyon is pretty proud of Antoine de Saint-Exupery, who was born and raised Lyonais. And so they should be. I've been reading this book every night here, and when I'm too tired to read, I pull it up on YouTube and some man with a great French speaking voice reads it to me. Part children's book, part philosophy, it's magical. I'll have to pick up a copy of my own. I'm wearing this one out!  When the guide took us to see this statue hidden in the trees at the edge of Place Bellecour (spoiler alert) and told us the story of the demise of Saint-Exupery I had a bit of a teary moments the story of his crash changes a bit depending on who's telling it, but it's always sad.