Night Time at Ile de la Cite. Friday 21st August 2009.

One thing lead to the next and we didn't get out of the house until late today. When we did we went to Ile de la Cite, sandwiched happily between two reaches of the Seine. We popped over to our old neighbourhood of Les Halles for a bite. We found ourselves in a bit of a tourist haunt, unusual for us, maybe our restaurant radar was a little skewed tonight. We should have known better, the first alarm bells rang when I ordered a medium/rare steak. "Non Madame", I could have it cooked either way but not in between and to my liking. I had a little giggle and ordered rare, after checking twice with our arrogant waiter if the steak was tender. The first time I asked him, he nodded while raising his eyebrows, the signal to JR that he was ready to take his order. The second time he acknowledged me, assuring me it was tender. Well blow me down if it didn't arrive in the guise of an old piece of boot leather, it was the worst piece of meat the three of us had ever eaten, or attempted to anyway. The second alarm bell rang after our entree when our basket of thickly sliced baguette arrived at our table. "Beurre?" I enquired. "Non Madame", came the curt reply. I just could not believe that a restaurant would not have the option of offering butter if the client asked for it, so I pushed the matter a little further. "Come on, no beurre in the kitchen, how is this possible?" The reply explained it all. Apparently the kitchen of the lovely establishment we found ourselves in tonight used special butter to cook with, cuisinere butter he explained. Can you imagine cooking with something that was not fit to give to guests at the table, what kind of place were we dining in?

We were sitting quite close to the door so every time couples would peruse the menu and look inside, I would catch their eye and shake my head, attempting to warn them of their fate if they entered. They were always appreciative for the advice and left mouthing thank you and smiling.

We put our bad meal to rest and ambled back to the Ile de la Cite, descended the old, worn stairs and walked along the Seine at water level, something I had never had the pleasure of doing before. Our path lead us to the very point of Ile de la Cite, to Square du Vert-Galant where groups were gathered socialising along the river. The atmosphere was relaxed and friendly. We pulled up a piece of river bank and sat a while, watching the cruise boats pass.

Returning to street level, we stopped at the Institute of France at the end of Pont des Arts. We had seen the activity on the bridge from afar and I had wondered what was going on there. It turned out it is just a popular place for people to congregate, drink wine, play music and sing. We crossed the bridge to the metro and called it a day - a great day.

Family Time. Thursday 20th August 2009.

AJ snoozed while JR and I met Mum and Dad in Jardin des Tuileries at 9.30. JR and Mum ventured to L'Orangerie to enjoy Monet, Renoir and the like, while Dad and I ambled towards the Louvre. We parked ourselves at Cafe Marly enjoying an expensive but gloriously good coffee together. Life was calm and easy and seemed one hundred miles away from the troubles of yesterday. We stayed a while, watching the world pass us by, the Louvre's gleaming, glass pyramid was the backdrop to what played out before us.

We entered the Louvre foyer as Dad had never been underneath the pyramid, we popped back into the sunlight at the carousel and walked through to rue de Rivoli where we parted company. I liked my time with Dad, yesterday was stollen from us and I hope that today Mum and Dad will have a little time to enjoy the real Paris before they leave at 5pm.

Dad met up with John and Mum to return to the Australian embassy and collect Dad's passport. it was not to be, they had arrived at 12.04pm and the guy was on lunch beginning at midday until 2pm - although they were visiting the Australian Embassy, it is in France where I guess they have adopted the French way of life and a fierce dedecation to the long lunch.

I had returned home to collect AJ and just as we were walking out the door, JR called with the news that Mum and Dad had to return to the embassy after 2pm so this afternoon's plans were up in the air. We arranged to meet up on rue Mouffetard for a bite. It was hot, but lunch was lovely, we went to the same place we had lunched in last Tuesday, the one with the yummy French onion soup and the welcoming service. They didn't disappoint.

This is where we bade Mum and Dad farewell. They had to get to the embassy and then to the dreaded Gare du Nord and JR had to find the cannon office to get his camera sensor cleaned. I had a yearning to go to the L'Orangerie after hearing from my fellow food writing friend in Sydney that it was not to be missed, AJ accompanied me even though he really didn't want to, thanks AJ. JR was quite taken with Monet's Water Lilies this morning so I really had no choice did I? It seemed that the universe was telling me I had to go. I was so glad I did. I was very moved by the enormity and beauty of Water Lilies. They are hung in two oval rooms of which you can enter either side, the rooms join together and make the sign of infinity, they have no beginning and no end, I got lost in them. I found so many pieces for my food in art research, and was particularly taken with Renoir's 'Fraises'.




We reunited with JR back at home where we all collapsed together in front of a few 'Friends' episodes. It was nice to chill for a while. JR raided the fridge and made a lovely platter of lightly toasted bread topped with slices of ripe tomato and fresh mozarella, it was drizzled with fruity olive oil and seasoned with Guerande's finest. Ahhh...

Some Not So Good News. Wednesday 19th August 2009.

Mum and Dad's arrival at our meeting point at the Bastille wasn't the happy reunion we had all imagined. Dad had been pick pocketed on the train and had lost his wallet and passport. I was faced with a rush of emotions and felt so sad for Dad and incredibly angry about what had happened. There was nothing to do but to be there and to get the ball rolling with cancelling cards, police reports and the like. I was really proud of the way Mum and Dad handled it, they were cool and calm and maintained their dignity every step of the way.

The administration process was long and arduous, as is to be expected here in France. The police report wasn't finished until about 1.30, even though we first arrived at the station at 10.30am. They were too busy to deal with the matter then, inside the station was a collection of victims that had no doubt fallen prey to something similar. Sometimes life just isn't fair.

After the police report, passport photos had to be organised and a visit to the Australian Embassy was needed to organise an emergency passport for Dad to return to England the following day. JR went with them while I took Alex to Jardin du Tuileries where we waited for their call. They arrived back to us late afternoon, AJ gathered enough chairs for all and we sat together in the cool of the shade to regenerate a little.

We found a lovely little Italian restaurant in St Germain where we ate well. I sat next to a charming 88 year old, Patrice was his name and he had been eating here every night for five years. He is alone and comes here for the atmosphere; it is a place where he can interact with other people, something he enjoys. Patrice caught my eye the moment he entered the room looking every inch a gentleman. He placed a cushion on his seat and his walking stick by his regular table, and took off his gloves, even though we were sweltering after a day of 34 degrees. The waistcoat he wore was of fine, golden fabric and looked special, it was made by a local seamstress. His fingers were decorated with rings encrusted with coloured gems and he wore a happy smile on his face, I liked Patrice and we had a nice talk sitting side by side at the restaurant.

We travelled with Mum and Dad, back to Gare du Nord for hopefully the last visit to the police station, to collect a police report number for insurance purposes. Why the report number could not be generated upon filing your complaint I do not know, but this is French administration and we are well used to inefficiency by now. I would highly recommend to anyone visiting this wonderful city that they steer clear of Gare du Nord, we have learned it is notorious for theft and the like. I wish we had of known its reputation before Mum and Dad had experienced it.

With Mum and Dad safely back in their hotel, we returned to the sanctuary of our Parisian home where we slept like babies, ready for another day.

A Visit From Home. Tuesday 18th August 2009.

JR and I went out to the market at Boulevard Raspail in the 6th to pick up a few ingredients for the picnic dinner we had planned for tonight. We were sidetracked by Le Bon Marche, which I have heard is Paris's largest department store. Letting me loose in their Grand Epicerie was a huge mistake. I was surrrounded by all my edible loved ones. Too many to mention today as Paris beckons, but they were all there, including a wonderful book on edible couture.

I bought a caramel beignet and tucked it, wrapped in its white paper bag, deep into my market trolley to bring home to AJ, it was a goody.

JR wanted to visit rue Mouffetard, when we arrived, half of the arrondisement was blocked off, there were police everywhere wearing flack jackets, a police helicopter flew overhead. There had been a bank robbery and the streets were buzzing with excitement. We ignored it all and fell into a little restaurant to enjoy lunch together. My French onion soup's flavours were rich and deep, it had been too long between French onion soups for me. John had a steak in pepper sauce that looked more sturdy on the plate than it actually was. It wasn't fall apart consistency but was tender to the bite, a fine example of great Argentinian beef.

We rushed home to clean up and prepare the croutons, lardons and eggs for tonight's picnic salad before JR's folks arrived. They are holidaying in England at the moment and were arriving in Paris for two nights, it will be lovely to see family again after so long, our last dose of family was when Julie stayed with us in Nantes, what wonderful memories.

JR and AJ went to meet Mum and Dad at the station and we congregated in our tiny Paris home. We caught up on all the news, how lovely it was to see them again. We had planned a picnic dinner in Place des Vosges, Mum's favourite place in Paris. We sat beside the fountain on the grass and I assembled a Lyonnaise salad. We finished with fresh raspberries from the market this morning, they were perfect, just perfect and we all had a wonderful time.

Paying respect. Monday 17th August 2009.

Today JR and I spent hours wandering around Cemetery Pere Lachaise. We visited the final resting place of Delacroix, Edith Piaf, Chopin, Jim Morrison, Charlie Chaplin, Oscar Wilde, Proust, Balzac and last but certainly not least, Brillat Savarin. It was interesting for me to learn that Brillat Savarin died only 2 months after his book was published. Apparently it has never been out of print since. The cemetery was a lovely place to be. Some of the leaves are turning colours of rust and are beginning to fall to the ground, making an autumn carpet that crunches underfoot, the first sign that summer is almost over.

We headed to the Marais and fell into Le Bar Bouille. My lunch of confit du cannard and pomme de terre was surprisingly fab and we got chatting to one of the owners of the bar about his and our, hopes and dreams, he was lovely.

We wandered the enchanting streets of the Marais and ended up in Place des Vosges, Mum R's favourite square in Paris. Mum and Dad arrive tomorrow for a visit so we decided that if they have nothing planned we will pack a picnic for dinner and all come to Place des Vosges to dine.

Happy Birthday to me. Sunday 16th August 2009.

The boys spoiled me with love from the minute I woke this morning. A Laduree Patisserie bag was put before me, inside were boxes of sweet tarts and cakes. I love Laduree treats and they have become a part of our Paris tradition. AJ had selected different flavoured Parisien macaroons, they were just lovely and came in such a bright array of colours. JR had a few and AJ and I had a bite each of the rest, we enjoyed every crumb. Cards had arrived from far and wide and my inbox dinged away with birthday wishes, thank you all for thinking of me. Thanks for all of you who called on skype too and sorry I couldn't speak to you Jonene, I was having a big chat to my Mum and Dad back home in Oz and my big sis in New Zealand when you called (twice).

A picnic in my favourite garden in the world had been planned for some time so I am told. We arrived at Jardin du Luxembourg in the afternoon, the boys carried heavy bags of treats for the picnic. What a picnic it was, with baguette, sliced wholemeal bread, saucisson, roast pork encrusted in peppercorns, olives, comte cheese, a fresh chevre just for me, salad leaves, onion jam, spreads of basil and aubergine-which was delicious, fresh raspberries, mustard flavoured with pain d'espices and our beloved Vegemite. I was spoiled rotten. We washed it all down with french champagne, a gift from the family we are home-exchanging with, and JR had packed a bottle of peach iced tea which I just love and have not had for such a long time.

We picniced for hours, savouring the wonderful food before us. The macaroons, tarts and cakes I had been given earlier in the day were saved for dessert, what a lovely ending to the best picnic a birthday girl could ever ask for - thanks boys!

The gardens were filled with families, friends and lovers so we indulged in a little people watching which was fun. AJ got pooped on by a low flying bird, the poo was so big I felt the splash from where I was sitting. When he realised what had happened, he got such a shock he tipped backwards on his chair. We laughed our heads off and were momentarily the centre of attention in the peaceful gardens.

Tonight AJ and I wandered up the Champs Elysees to do some serious car spotting, boy did he hit the jackpot tonight with sightings of some of the rarest cars in the world.

The lovely Louvre. Saturday 15th August 2009.

It took us most of the day to cover two floors of The Louvre. It was not only the works of art that were so wonderful to see, it was the building itself. Steeped in history and so ornately decorated, we spent much of our visit looking up at the ceilings. We were in front of the Mona Lisa by 11ish, the crowd was a little crazy and you could not get nearly as close as I had done on my visit a few years ago, they now have a barrier set up a good ten feet or so from the painting. She was still the same though, even at a distance, smiling her little smile from behind the protective glass. I am glad that JR and AJ got the opportunity to see her, even if it is not the most beautiful painting in the world, it is something to see a painting so famous in the flesh.

JR went to enjoy the museum as only a photographer can, and AJ and I continued onto the second floor where we found some of our favourite pieces. We both thought the room with Alexander the Great paintings was the most beautiful and it was so lovely to see AJ taking an interest and enjoying the world of art. His intense interest in history in years past made it possible for him to understand the stories behind so many of the historic paintings, it was great to have him by my side to explain things to me - history has never been my strong point.

I nearly forgot, AJ found the inverted pyramid made famous in the Davinci Code.

We came home smashed at about 5ish, JR came home a little later, no doubt seduced by magic hour once more.