That Is Not Possible!

c'est tout ce que j'aime!

What on earth was I thinking? When we went down to reception at the Standard Design Hotel to apprise the good people there of the non-working bathroom lights and non-existent air-conditioning (despite the humming sound) in our room, the French lass simply gave us a Gallic shrug and said, "that is not possible!". In other words, "you must be mistaken", and that I think is the polite version. I suspect she greatly itched to tell us, "you are liars". Nonetheless, we stood our ground and applied the "we are customers you do as I say" manoeuvre, and got a limpid "we will send someone up to repair it" from French lass. Three days later when we checked out to move on to Poitiers, still no action was taken. Well, I never!

Paris is a beautiful city, no doubts about that. It would seem in every corner you turn, there are beauty to behold. And I swear you can (almost) hear the piano-accordion spewing notes which fall like cascading rose-petals on your every step. Even the sounds of vendors hosing down the pavement of their shopfront in the early mornings has a musical tingle to it. Its all very vie le parisienne. There's lots to do in Paris. But what I liked most, apart from dipping real croissants into a steaming hot cafe au lait in the morning, is just the joy of wandering, aimlessly and letting this magnificent city unfolds itself - flaneur as the French would call it. No agenda, no time schedule, no nothing to rush you. So, out went my to-do list. I understand no French but found great pleasure in the time I spent browsing through the book titles in a librarie. Very old world, tres, tres charming. And yes, I do realise such notions are at best romanticized and far removed from the realities of the daily grind if one have to eke out a living in this city but hey, I am a tourist and intend to enjoy every minute of it as one. You got a problem with that?

Were there any bad moments during this visit to Paris? No, not really but if I have to nominate it will have to be this American woman who was queueing behind us to get into the Musee Marmottan on Saturday 13 September 2008 @ 1100hr.

AW (telling one of her friends/companions) - You know, four years ago, I was in Paris and had a chance to come to this museum but didn't think I was ready for it (refering to Monet's paintings), I thought I was way out of my depth. So, I decided to pass and wait for the right moment.

AW's friend - Yes, you don't say.

AW (for no reason changing the topic a bit) - My son who now lives in London keeps encouraging me to paint again. And so I did. Last year, for my Christmas card, I did a painting of the front of my house.

AW's friend (who apparently was not on that Christmas card mailing list) - Oh, really. How did that go?

AW - Yes, and now we are here and I think I am ready. (presumably AW meant Musee Marmottan and Monet) 

And she went on and on and on . . . 

Under ordinary circumstances, this sort of people and what they say would not have gotten to me. But that morning I was a little pissed-off. Why? We arrived early in fact too early and the museum was not open and there were only two Japanese ladies queueing at the entrance. John and I thought, oh well let's go for a walk seeing there were no other people hovering around. When we went back to the museum entrance, the long queue of twenty odd people sent a bucket of cold water down my pants. Bloody hell. We could have been third and fourth. Instead we ended up down the line, standing in the sun and this bloody American woman/crone had to go on yakking and blabbering about her "not being ready for Monet". But the Monet stuff in the Marmottan were, to use one of John's favorite word, crap. Okay, not all but mostly. They were produced in Monet's later years and have all the signs of someone painting for money. Call me a cynic but that's the impression I got. And that American crone feared she was "out of her depth"? Please, take me aside and just shoot me. Good bloody grief. 

Anyway I love Paris, this visit if nothing but reminded me how much I did, and still do.