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Thursday, Oct. 8, 1998 I had the good fortune late last month to travel to Paris, where I spent five days immersed in French culture and cuisine. Hemingway wrote that Paris is "A Moveable Feast," and the city lived up to its reputation. At right is one of the many outdoor cafes that line the streets of the city. This photo was taken in mid-morning, before an inevitable lunchtime crowd arrived. In Paris we feasted on art, enjoying rooms filled with works by Monet, Renoir, Degas and Rodin; on history, taking in the excess of the French aristocracy and its legacy of palaces and revolution; on cityscapes comprised of outdoor markets, parks and fountains, subway musicians and narrow streets; and, of course, on the legendary French cuisine including croissants, soufflés, wine and cheese, espresso... We rented a car one day to drive to Auvers sur-Oise, about 25 miles outside of Paris, where Van Gogh lived the last weeks of his life, creating 70 paintings in 70 days before he shot himself at the age of 37. On the way we got lost and found ourselves in Chantilly, home of the world's grandest stables, commissioned according to legend in 1719 by a prince who believed he would be reincarnated as a horse. You may be familiar with the stables if you've seen the James Bond movie that was filmed there. It's now a Living Horse Museum. Auvers, a village along the Oise River, has attracted a host of famous artists over the years and is known as the "cradle of impressionism." A walking tour of its winding hillside streets leads visitors to scenes from works by Van Gogh, Cézanne and Pissarro. The village is picturesque, a seemingly timeless still life. The bridge over the river there was lined with flower boxes overflowing with geraniums. We tried to be good tourists, although we spoke little French much to the disappointment of our taxi driver who said all foreign visitors should be required to stay at the airport until they can speak the language. We had a brief if unpleasant encounter with a tourist who in my mind typified "the ugly American" when she asked our bus guide if the overpass down the street was "where Lady Di got it." Indeed, we did pass by the place, now enshrined with a sculpture of an eternal flame and encircled with flowers, but this woman's tasteless remark will always be etched in my memory of our visit there. Like its many treasures, Paris itself is larger than life, grand in scale and awash in excess that is perhaps taken best in small doses. My first visit there, in 1989, had a different flavor altogether. At that time our hotel was teeming with prosperous Japanese tourists, many of them carrying Chanel shopping bags stuffed with purchases we could not begin to afford. There was no sign of them this time, perhaps because of their economy, perhaps not. Nevertheless, then as now, the city remains a feast for the eyes, the mind and the soul. I look forward to anther course... Some photos of Paris...
Julie Wolpers |
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Julie Wolpers dba Webcurrent Communications |
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