September 2022
Tony and I left Redruth at 7.37 and we were in Paris by 18.49. This included a generous couple of hours in London to lunch on sandwiches from Prèt in the British Library garden and watch all the earnest conversations in multiple languages.
Brilliant journey on Eurostar. The only downside being the completely unnecessary rigmarole to get through passport control brought on by Brexit. The French border guard also found the whole thing ludicrous and told us that we’d ‘be back’. Had I been able to raise one eyebrow, I would have done so …Was it really worth it for a stamp in the passport?
And then it was Paris. My excitement levels were almost out of control. However, we came down to earth when we couldn’t work out the metro system nor how to pay without queuing for ages. Luckily we were assisted by a very kind if slightly intimidating giant of a gendarme. First use of French as the late middle aged, slightly ineffectual tourist …
We stayed in the 5th arrondissement in the tiniest room near to the Rue Mouffetard which could provide a life time of interest in itself. We had a long boozy lunch in Les Halles with a French friend from University days, followed by a short stroll in the Tuileries Gardens and then coffee in Le Marly in the Louvre Square where all the staff look like aspiring models teetering on the highest heels. Customers feast on tiny cakes and very expensive coffee, looking out over the glass pyramid. Absurd but glorious at the same time.
It was very moving to visit the Notre Dame renovations and the herculean efforts that are being made to restore the iconic building. Several cartoonists have been commissioned to create the information panels to explain the process - they are brilliant, informative, satirical and a fitting tribute to the massive undertaking. The following evening after visiting the stunning Musée Rodin, we had supper in the Rue Mouffetard. The waitress came over and asked our nationality and then informed us that the Queen had died and how sorry she was. This led to many conversations over the next few days about 'La Reine', 'Notre Reine', 'La Reine pour tous'. Many speaking of weeping for days. In one café in Nice, we paid the bill and the waiter said to us “I feel your sadness. She will be missed across the world” and he brought us each a glass of limoncello. French TV gave her a lot of coverage over 10 days including the funeral. An enormous photgraph of her was displayed on the Promenade des Anglais in Nice. It was quite surprising for a republic. Apparently, she did speak good French, which may have played a part, and was particularly fond on President Mitterrand.
The following day we caught the TGV from the Gare de Lyon to Nice. With seats on the upper deck, we had a wonderful view of the countryside which flashed past so quickly that I had no notion of geography. Villages and towns were visible for seconds and were seemingly deserted. Was that the Massif Central? The Pont du Gard? It was overcast almost the whole way south, rainy and cloudy until we pulled into Marseille. Then it was as if someone had turned the lights on as we were bathed in sunlight. The second leg was all along the Mediterranean coast which is almost entirely built up with villas and apartment blocks, all with fabulous views over the glorious blue sea.
‘The grand object of travelling is to see the shores of the Mediterranean Sea’ Samuel Johnson. He may have had a point!
Two weeks in Nice, staying in an apartment in the central Rue Hotel des Postes in the warmth and shining sun. Daily visits to the boulangerie, the different markets, swimming in the choppy sea, joining the evening strollers on the Promenade des Anglais. We celebrated our son’s birthday with his girlfriend in the Brasserie L’Ange Guardien in the Port – the waiter brought his profiteroles with a flaming candle to celebrate.
Not to mention the wonderful cultural offering of Matisse Museum, The Cocteau Museum in Villefranche, the Palais Massena and the Museum of Modern Art. Also learned that Nice was not part of France until 1860; it was part of Savoy and Sardinia until then. We made a charming new friend who lives in Cagnes sur Mer just opposite Renoir’s house. Such a delightful place to stay, I found it very difficult leave.
In order to wean ourselves off the sunshine, we stayed another couple of nights in Paris which gave us the chance to spend a day in the glorious Musee d'Orsay, to happen upon the wonderful Rue des Abbesses and the brilliant Saturday flea market, as well whizzing across Paris to meet another friend and her daughter for Aperol Spritz in an outdoor cafe.
The return journey was just as good and topped off by our daughter and son in law meeting us at midnight on the platform at Redruth Station. And so the spark was lit for this blog.
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