Chet woke up late with a scratchy throat. Too many days in the rain (although he says it's Lynne's fault for making him traipse through all those museums for hours at a time). Went up to the road of grands magasins (big department stores), the Boulevard Hausmann. Also home to the local FedEx depot.
The Opera Garnier, Paris's grand beaux arts opera house, resides in the same neighborhood so we also went to visit. The building is utterly spectactular; Lynne's decided that the French architectural motto is to "leave no square inch undecorated". Between the gold leaf and the crystal chandeliers, the grand staircase, not to mention the Marc Chagall dome in the auditorium, the building is a work of art. After all, when it was first built, one went to the opera to be seen - most certainly not for the music! We were both very impressed. Plus, they have a library of the music from the operas probably going back over a hundred years. We tried to get tickets for the opera the following night (Richard Strauss's Capriccio), but the only tickets available were cheap with obstructed views of the stage. To Chet's shock, Lynne didn't want to see an opera where only part of the stage was available. So, we considered going the following night to see if there were returns, depending on where we were and how Chet was feeling.
After we'd finished left the opera house, we walked through the department store district. Chet was amazed at the number of French people who still smoke. Cigarette smoke pervades every cafe, restaurant and doorway. It's hard to escape it when you're out and it can make eating in a restaurant less entertaining.
Crossing through the district of grands magasins, we finally found our way over to Les Halles and the Librairie Gourmand (gourmand's bookshop). As the name would suggest, this bookshop is wholly devoted to food and cooking. It was Lynne's turn to sit, eyes glazing over, while Chet perused all the different sections. In all, he bought five cookbooks: Fish & Fish, Le Pain (bread), Les Fromages (cheese), Les Oeufs (eggs), and Mes 100 Recettes de Citron (lemons). Wow ..... and all in French, ambitous man!
Since it rained and we were tired, we wound up stopping off at the Monoprix for some tomatoes fruits, a loaf of bread and a bottle of wine, and having dinner in our room. A veritable feast of smelly cheeses! Yum .....
The Opera Garnier, Paris's grand beaux arts opera house, resides in the same neighborhood so we also went to visit. The building is utterly spectactular; Lynne's decided that the French architectural motto is to "leave no square inch undecorated". Between the gold leaf and the crystal chandeliers, the grand staircase, not to mention the Marc Chagall dome in the auditorium, the building is a work of art. After all, when it was first built, one went to the opera to be seen - most certainly not for the music! We were both very impressed. Plus, they have a library of the music from the operas probably going back over a hundred years. We tried to get tickets for the opera the following night (Richard Strauss's Capriccio), but the only tickets available were cheap with obstructed views of the stage. To Chet's shock, Lynne didn't want to see an opera where only part of the stage was available. So, we considered going the following night to see if there were returns, depending on where we were and how Chet was feeling.
After we'd finished left the opera house, we walked through the department store district. Chet was amazed at the number of French people who still smoke. Cigarette smoke pervades every cafe, restaurant and doorway. It's hard to escape it when you're out and it can make eating in a restaurant less entertaining.
Crossing through the district of grands magasins, we finally found our way over to Les Halles and the Librairie Gourmand (gourmand's bookshop). As the name would suggest, this bookshop is wholly devoted to food and cooking. It was Lynne's turn to sit, eyes glazing over, while Chet perused all the different sections. In all, he bought five cookbooks: Fish & Fish, Le Pain (bread), Les Fromages (cheese), Les Oeufs (eggs), and Mes 100 Recettes de Citron (lemons). Wow ..... and all in French, ambitous man!
Since it rained and we were tired, we wound up stopping off at the Monoprix for some tomatoes fruits, a loaf of bread and a bottle of wine, and having dinner in our room. A veritable feast of smelly cheeses! Yum .....
1 comment:
Yes, the French and their smokes seem inseparable. I had a French professor in college who smoked (constantly) in class. In a small room with only twenty or so students, the cloud of smoke practically killed me. I've always thought he rather enjoyed making everyone sick.
Nice blog. I feel I've eaten my way across France!
Post a Comment