Lyn's charm offensive

Bushfires were item 3 on the French news all day.

We took an age to leave the apartment because we had a disturbed night after an exhausting day. Eventually we headed for Notre Dame. It is big. Also crowded with tourists like us, but really big.

Lyn prayed for you all to be safe. I'm not sure her usual fire-lighting habits were appropriate, but old habits die hard.

One church is never enough. We walked to the other end of the island to see Sainte Chapelle. If Notre Dame is Megagothic, then Sainte Chapelle is Prettygothic. I walked in and thought, "€8 for this?" Then Lyn pointed out the big show was upstairs. Walking upstairs involved your typical narrow winding medieval staircase - so I went alone. The chapel is basically a bunch of flying buttresses supporting walls of stained glass. Wow. This was ONE window. It stretched from floor to ceiling.  

After this we walked back across the bridge and headed for the Musee D'Orsay. The iron grating was heavily decorated with padlocks. Lovers put their names on the locks, lock them, and throw the keys into the river. Love will endure forever and all that. I pointed out that every lock we read was dated 2012 or 2013. I assume the authorities must periodically come along and romantically cut them off.

At the Musee D'Orsay we discovered the building is an artwork itself. It is a converted 19th century railway station.

We saw lots of paintings we'd seen before as reproductions on walls and chocolate boxes. We decided that Monet bloke was pretty good. The cafe where we rested before touring the final floor was spectacular too. They have left the original giant station clocks in place. 

Lyn continued her charm assault on the French all day. The French are completely unlike the Italians who will jump in to help you communicate. They look at you grimly while you struggle through elementary requests. They rarely offer help. If two adults wait 15 minutes in line at a ticket window at a museum, what do you think they want?

Lyn wins them over every time. She NEVER does what I would do and say, "deaux". She wishes them good day. She asks questions in a full sentence. She then asks something else in French while they are serving her? "What does this mean?" "Where can I buy this?" "How do you say this?" "What cat is this toothbrush?" "Can you scratch my elephant?" Invariably they reply courteously, and in French. She is courageous and indefatigable.

This shot looks through the clockface, across the Seine, to the Louvre beyond.

On the way back to the apartment we went to our first patisserie and our first charcuterie. We have since eaten our successes.

Then, disaster. Lyn broke the cafe plongeur. Merde! Now we will have to buy a replacement. Parisian shop assistants would be ringing in sick now if they knew what faced them tomorrow.

Hope it doesn't warm up again tomorrow for you.