We went to the Musée d’Orsay and the Louvre today, and then did a bit of Metro research so that we’d know what to do when we take it tomorrow to walk down the Champs Élysées and then when we go to Montmartre the next day.
We were lucky. We got to the Musée d’Orsay around 9, and there wasn’t much of a line, so we waited until it opened and got right in. The museum used to be a train station. I think that aspect of it impressed me the most. The huge clocks and the architecture were lovely. I’m afraid I rather zoomed through most of the offerings. In fact, here we were in the midst of work by the great impressionists and post-impressionists, and my favorite painting was a solitary representation by an unknown artist…unknown by me, that is…Gustave Caillebotte. This was the painting:
Though Caillebotte painted many paintings, as I discovered after an internet search later, that was the only one I found in the museum. Unfortunately, we couldn’t take any pictures in the d’Orsay, and as a result, I have no memories of anything that I saw, really, besides this. Kind of sad, isn’t it?
I got lots of pictures at the Louvre. A lot of them were simply of the floors, walls, and ceilings because it was a palace first, and a sumptuous one it was.
So here we are outside of the Louvre, and then waiting in line.
I figured I’d get the obvious famous pieces out of the way. The Mona Lisa and Venus de Milo.
As I said, I was most impressed by the architecture.
I suppose I should show some of the art, eh?
I don’t have many pictures of the paintings. Apparently, the sculpture appealed to me the most because that’s what I have the most pictures of. That’s rather odd, when you think about it. I remember when I visited there the first time when I was 16. I fell in love with the paintings, and barely gave the sculptures a second look. I guess I’ve seen so many paintings in my lifetime that I wasn’t particularly impressed this go ’round. Sad, isn’t it?
Afterward, I was exhausted. My feet were beginning to protest all the walking we’d done so far. I wasn’t used to it. We rested on some chairs in the Tuileries.
Once rested, we were going to walk on home, but as we were entering the Place de la Concorde, a guy in a bike carriage asked if I wanted a ride. R was up ahead a ways, and I shook my head no, but as I walked on, I thought, “Why not? Aren’t we here to have some new experiences? And I’m tired, dadgummit. I’d love to hitch a ride home.” So I walked back and asked how much it would cost. He was quite cute and charming, so even though it was a bit more than I would have liked, my feet really hurt, and it was still within my means, so I talked R into it, and off we went.
R took a picture of our rider, and I’m sure she forwarded it to me, but I can’t seem to find it.
We freshened up at the hotel, and then went out to eat. Ravioli, pina colada and tiramisu for me, and French onion soup and a mojito for R. You may have noticed that we didn’t go all out with our food. We were on a budget, and the food wasn’t as much of an interest for us as it might be to others. I know, heresy! We have the opportunity to dine on French cuisine, and we don’t take it.