Paris-the good and the bad

 I am lucky enough to live in Paris-someone’s blog says on their title page: “Don’t hate me because I live in Paris”. It is wonderful, of course. How can you walk around the narrow historic streets of the Left Bank or down the wide boulevards, such as the Champs Elysees, and not be thrilled to be living here? Among my favorite places, as my repetitious photos show, is Palais Royal:


This is in the entry to Palais Royal, some conceptual art that covers what was once a parking lot. I didn’t like it at first.


 I like how people interact with the columns the most. I’m not sure if you can see the girl on top of one of them-she is doing a very gymnastic looking pose. I tried to get over there before she got down but wasn’t able to.


 This little girl must have climbed on every column she could reach.


 Look at all of these people sitting in the sun enjoying this “art”.


 Further into Palais Royal is the garden lined with trees


One of my favorite fountains-love those unending reflections.

  But, of course, after walking around Paris and looking at the loveliness, I have to go home and real life goes on. Sometimes, after an all day tour, I board the metro to head home. My feet are throbbing. I am surprised that they aren’t outlined in red with those wavy lines coming out as in cartoons to denote heat and/or pain. Almost always, when this is the case, there isn’t a seat to be found on the metro. Can’t those men see my feet throbbing, can’t they feel the heat from where they sit reading their papers? Apparantly not. It isn’t until a few stops from my metro stop when I finally get a seat. After exiting the train, there it is: the Mount McKinley of steps, the way out of the metro which I must mount if I want to go home. I trudge along the street to our apartment where I then have to climb to the fourth floor. It is so nice to take my shoes off, put on my ugly rubbery slide-ons and to sit down, usually with a glass of wine. At this point Maurice is un-wise enough to ask what’s for dinner. My reply: “Whatever you want to cook.” Still, I consider myself lucky to live here, sore feet and all.










5 thoughts to “Paris-the good and the bad”

  1. I love the interaction with art…loads of fun!

    So that was your moan of relief we heard here in Brittany upon your return home?!
    : )

  2. Linda, that top photo is brilliant!! You really are so good. I know what you mean about the feet and I love your description of the cartoony wavy red lines to indicate hot tootsies. I do envy your being here all the time, but you’re such a nice person that I can’t really be all that grumpy about it.

  3. Yes, living in Paris is a wonderful thing. I like the Palais Royale art and how people interact with the pieces. Your photos are lovely.

Comments are closed.