New Year's Eve in Paris had been exceptional, but it had also taken it out of me. For the first time in this trip, I was grateful that no museums were open on the holiday. We slept late, barely making the 11am cut off for breakfast. My body ached, my head felt like it weighed 100 pounds, and my chest felt like another 100 pounds were sitting on top of it. I was Sick, with a capital S. A day of ease sounded amazing, especially since I was out of medicine.
So we did exactly that. I mean, on my terms. We walked to Pere Lachaise Cemetery. Okay, yes, it was a 2.5 mile walk, but we moved slowly, a relaxed pace along the Seine, on the south side of the Notre Dame, and up to the cemetery. The day fit the destination: cold, wet, and gray. I had bundled up in two sweaters, jeans, and my newly purchased Paris scarf to replace my lost Barcelona one. Maybe I should have stayed in bed for the day, but that's not really me.
This particular cemetery became famous in the United States as the resting place of Jim Morrison of The Doors. In fact, his gravesite is visited so often - and vandalized so readily - that they've now gated it off from the casual visitor. Devoted fans now use the gate as a new way to show their love of the man, by adding locks to it.
Additionally, and I don't really get this, there appears to be some big thing about putting chewing gum on a tree next to the gravesite. Anyone know what that's about??
Having seen The Doors movie and growing up with my older sister Andrea playing them, I knew who they were. I understood the appeal to a degree. But, let's be real here. This is me. Do you honestly think that I drug my happy, sick butt to a cemetery to see an American singer who died of a drug overdose? Uh, no. Dude... this is the cemetery where Abelard and Eloise were buried! Squee!
Who are they? Oh guys, come on! They were the love story of the 12th century! I'm still struggling to understand how there haven't been a million movies and books about this devoted couple who lost one another but gained prestige on their own while still sending each other love letters. This is the tragic love story everyone should know. *le sigh*
We wandered around for a good hour, looking for Chopin's gravesite, seeing the amazing monuments to those long gone, and seeing broken and disheveled stone cairns. Despite its more famous inhabitants (can I use that word here?), this is a living (*coughs*) cemetery where people are still being buried today. The juxtaposition of old and new, cared for and dilapidated, felt jarring and yet appropriate.
Oh, and I found where Voldemort was buried!
The weather fit the mood, and I'm glad we went. But again, I was doing pretty poorly, so when it was time to go, we went. The long, leisurely walk back to the hotel brought us up against the Notre Dame along a pathway with an explanation of what happened to it. This pathway was filled with people, of course, which made me feel a bit panicky, but at the same time, I wanted to see the story. So, I plowed through, a very patient Brian following along or leading the way in turn, before we made it back to the hotel. Where I crashed hard. While I slept, Brian went out to find food at a nearby bakery. We ate, and then discussed whether or not to go out that night. He was tired, I was sick, and the decision to stay in was made.
The next day, we got up relatively early and headed to the Musee Cluny, now known as The National Museum of the Middle Ages. Here's where I admit that I didn't have any idea that the Cluny was in Paris. I mean, sure, I've heard of it. Who hasn't? But until Brian suggested it as a place to visit on our last day, I'd no idea how close it was. As in, like, four blocks from the hotel close. Dude!
A day of rest (mostly), a hot shower, and hot coffee, I was feeling a little better. We walked to the Cluny, arriving about 10 minutes before it was set to open at 9:15. At around 9:25, someone came out, spoke in French, and then left. Those who seemed to understand him, smiled, shrugged, and waited. We assumed that meant that this was the typical Parisian "We're going to be opening late; blame the trains strike" speech.
We waited a little while, then Brian got restless. He wandered off a bit; I followed. And saw a pharmacy a block over. Yes, please!
I'm just going to say this. If you have the option to buy all the medicine you need in the UK before going to Paris, do it. Because the medicine that I got in Paris was literally gag-inducing. Both were powders. Both did the required job of making me feel human. One was a little meh in flavor; the other made me gag. But you can bet that gag I did for the rest of my trip, because it worked.
(It could be argued that I broke my "no US chain" rule here by running over to a nearby Starbucks to get a cup of hot water, but since I didn't actually pay for it, does it count?)
We continued to wander on, finding a beautiful cathedral to walk through.
Then walked back to the Cluny, which was now open. (I think it was around 10am by this time. No idea what time it actually opened its doors.) I will warn you now, this is a small-ish museum. They appear to be under constant improvements, and a number of their exhibits weren't available to be seen. Those that were, however, were exceptional to a Medievalist, especially an embroiderer.
Well, and for those interested in in enameling and repousse, there was the altar piece showing the missing pieces. (More info here: https://www.musee-moyenage.fr/collection/oeuvre/retable-de-la-pentecote.html)
But let's get into the nitty-gritty of what the Cluny is famous for: The Lady and the Unicorn.
To show my complete ignorance on these tapestries prior to seeing them, I'm going to share what I learned. There are six tapestries with the Lady and the Unicorn (and the Lion, which for whatever reason, is always completely ignored though it's equally prominent in all of the tapestries). Five of them are believed to be representations of the senses: sight, smell, touch, taste, and sound. The sixth tapestry, shown above, has been interpreted multiple ways by multiple people over the past 600+ years. It's the only one with words, which have been interpreted multiple ways, too. I'll let you do the research on that.
The other five, however, follow. I'll let you try to figure out which represents which sense.
As I said, I knew next to nothing about these before we saw them in the Cluny, but I do now understand why others are so intrigued by them. Sitting in the middle of the room, staring at the tapestries, both Brian and I found odd inconsistencies between them. As the general assumption is that each of these tapestries showed something specific, we assumed that those inconsistencies meant something to the artist, and we spent some time together trying to figure out what they could mean.
Yeah, I know. The Geek Side is strong in me. I was just grateful to be traveling with someone else who not only got that, but encouraged the discussion. He was also kind enough not to remark on the excited squeaks and squeals that regularly escaped as I walked through the museum.
I have a ton more pictures on the Cluny that will be put up on Flickr or PhotoBucket or something else for my fellow geeks. Needless to say, if you're in Paris, pay the slightly high fee and go see the things. Even if they open late.
After the Cluny, we tried once again to see Saint Chapelle, and failed once again. Then we stopped by the hotel to rest a bit before heading out to meet our friend from the forum, Telmo.
We had a drink, walked around a bit, then had another drink. Our conversation focused on the amount of smoking I've encountered in Europe, politics, the train strike and how it's affected Paris, and just stuff about our lives in general. Then he headed off while Brian and I went in search of our last meal together in Paris.
I'd mentioned that it seemed silly to come to Paris and not enjoy some fondue, so Brian insisted that we have that. We'd come across several restaurants in our wandering, so we backtracked until we found one that looked good. We each ordered a pot of cheese (which wasn't our smartest plan as one pot was plenty for both of us), I ordered a glass of wine, and we sat and had a wonderful talk about life, the universe, and everything over pots of hot cheese.
Before this trip, I'd spent time with Brian in Portland and chatted with him plenty on the forum and via PMs. What I learned this trip, however, was how much I appreciated him. He's conscientious, kind, and willing to push himself outside of his comfort zone. We travel well together, and despite the occasionally awkward moments of people thinking we were a couple instead of just friends, I think we had a great time exploring as a team. I'd enjoyed my time traveling alone, but I also really enjoyed traveling with my friend.
Thank you, Brian, for enhancing an already amazing trip. For putting up with my whinging while sick. For being willing to explore with me. And for spoiling me with your hotel and train choices. You're a gem. I hope you know that.
So we did exactly that. I mean, on my terms. We walked to Pere Lachaise Cemetery. Okay, yes, it was a 2.5 mile walk, but we moved slowly, a relaxed pace along the Seine, on the south side of the Notre Dame, and up to the cemetery. The day fit the destination: cold, wet, and gray. I had bundled up in two sweaters, jeans, and my newly purchased Paris scarf to replace my lost Barcelona one. Maybe I should have stayed in bed for the day, but that's not really me.
This particular cemetery became famous in the United States as the resting place of Jim Morrison of The Doors. In fact, his gravesite is visited so often - and vandalized so readily - that they've now gated it off from the casual visitor. Devoted fans now use the gate as a new way to show their love of the man, by adding locks to it.
Additionally, and I don't really get this, there appears to be some big thing about putting chewing gum on a tree next to the gravesite. Anyone know what that's about??
Having seen The Doors movie and growing up with my older sister Andrea playing them, I knew who they were. I understood the appeal to a degree. But, let's be real here. This is me. Do you honestly think that I drug my happy, sick butt to a cemetery to see an American singer who died of a drug overdose? Uh, no. Dude... this is the cemetery where Abelard and Eloise were buried! Squee!
Who are they? Oh guys, come on! They were the love story of the 12th century! I'm still struggling to understand how there haven't been a million movies and books about this devoted couple who lost one another but gained prestige on their own while still sending each other love letters. This is the tragic love story everyone should know. *le sigh*
We wandered around for a good hour, looking for Chopin's gravesite, seeing the amazing monuments to those long gone, and seeing broken and disheveled stone cairns. Despite its more famous inhabitants (can I use that word here?), this is a living (*coughs*) cemetery where people are still being buried today. The juxtaposition of old and new, cared for and dilapidated, felt jarring and yet appropriate.
Oh, and I found where Voldemort was buried!
The weather fit the mood, and I'm glad we went. But again, I was doing pretty poorly, so when it was time to go, we went. The long, leisurely walk back to the hotel brought us up against the Notre Dame along a pathway with an explanation of what happened to it. This pathway was filled with people, of course, which made me feel a bit panicky, but at the same time, I wanted to see the story. So, I plowed through, a very patient Brian following along or leading the way in turn, before we made it back to the hotel. Where I crashed hard. While I slept, Brian went out to find food at a nearby bakery. We ate, and then discussed whether or not to go out that night. He was tired, I was sick, and the decision to stay in was made.
The next day, we got up relatively early and headed to the Musee Cluny, now known as The National Museum of the Middle Ages. Here's where I admit that I didn't have any idea that the Cluny was in Paris. I mean, sure, I've heard of it. Who hasn't? But until Brian suggested it as a place to visit on our last day, I'd no idea how close it was. As in, like, four blocks from the hotel close. Dude!
A day of rest (mostly), a hot shower, and hot coffee, I was feeling a little better. We walked to the Cluny, arriving about 10 minutes before it was set to open at 9:15. At around 9:25, someone came out, spoke in French, and then left. Those who seemed to understand him, smiled, shrugged, and waited. We assumed that meant that this was the typical Parisian "We're going to be opening late; blame the trains strike" speech.
We waited a little while, then Brian got restless. He wandered off a bit; I followed. And saw a pharmacy a block over. Yes, please!
I'm just going to say this. If you have the option to buy all the medicine you need in the UK before going to Paris, do it. Because the medicine that I got in Paris was literally gag-inducing. Both were powders. Both did the required job of making me feel human. One was a little meh in flavor; the other made me gag. But you can bet that gag I did for the rest of my trip, because it worked.
(It could be argued that I broke my "no US chain" rule here by running over to a nearby Starbucks to get a cup of hot water, but since I didn't actually pay for it, does it count?)
We continued to wander on, finding a beautiful cathedral to walk through.
Then walked back to the Cluny, which was now open. (I think it was around 10am by this time. No idea what time it actually opened its doors.) I will warn you now, this is a small-ish museum. They appear to be under constant improvements, and a number of their exhibits weren't available to be seen. Those that were, however, were exceptional to a Medievalist, especially an embroiderer.
Well, and for those interested in in enameling and repousse, there was the altar piece showing the missing pieces. (More info here: https://www.musee-moyenage.fr/collection/oeuvre/retable-de-la-pentecote.html)
But let's get into the nitty-gritty of what the Cluny is famous for: The Lady and the Unicorn.
To show my complete ignorance on these tapestries prior to seeing them, I'm going to share what I learned. There are six tapestries with the Lady and the Unicorn (and the Lion, which for whatever reason, is always completely ignored though it's equally prominent in all of the tapestries). Five of them are believed to be representations of the senses: sight, smell, touch, taste, and sound. The sixth tapestry, shown above, has been interpreted multiple ways by multiple people over the past 600+ years. It's the only one with words, which have been interpreted multiple ways, too. I'll let you do the research on that.
The other five, however, follow. I'll let you try to figure out which represents which sense.
As I said, I knew next to nothing about these before we saw them in the Cluny, but I do now understand why others are so intrigued by them. Sitting in the middle of the room, staring at the tapestries, both Brian and I found odd inconsistencies between them. As the general assumption is that each of these tapestries showed something specific, we assumed that those inconsistencies meant something to the artist, and we spent some time together trying to figure out what they could mean.
Yeah, I know. The Geek Side is strong in me. I was just grateful to be traveling with someone else who not only got that, but encouraged the discussion. He was also kind enough not to remark on the excited squeaks and squeals that regularly escaped as I walked through the museum.
I have a ton more pictures on the Cluny that will be put up on Flickr or PhotoBucket or something else for my fellow geeks. Needless to say, if you're in Paris, pay the slightly high fee and go see the things. Even if they open late.
After the Cluny, we tried once again to see Saint Chapelle, and failed once again. Then we stopped by the hotel to rest a bit before heading out to meet our friend from the forum, Telmo.
We had a drink, walked around a bit, then had another drink. Our conversation focused on the amount of smoking I've encountered in Europe, politics, the train strike and how it's affected Paris, and just stuff about our lives in general. Then he headed off while Brian and I went in search of our last meal together in Paris.
I'd mentioned that it seemed silly to come to Paris and not enjoy some fondue, so Brian insisted that we have that. We'd come across several restaurants in our wandering, so we backtracked until we found one that looked good. We each ordered a pot of cheese (which wasn't our smartest plan as one pot was plenty for both of us), I ordered a glass of wine, and we sat and had a wonderful talk about life, the universe, and everything over pots of hot cheese.
Before this trip, I'd spent time with Brian in Portland and chatted with him plenty on the forum and via PMs. What I learned this trip, however, was how much I appreciated him. He's conscientious, kind, and willing to push himself outside of his comfort zone. We travel well together, and despite the occasionally awkward moments of people thinking we were a couple instead of just friends, I think we had a great time exploring as a team. I'd enjoyed my time traveling alone, but I also really enjoyed traveling with my friend.
Thank you, Brian, for enhancing an already amazing trip. For putting up with my whinging while sick. For being willing to explore with me. And for spoiling me with your hotel and train choices. You're a gem. I hope you know that.
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