The Barri (more than one Barrus): Around Paris

Rain today, but not so much that we couldn't get out and see and do. It was cool but not cold, and after packing a yummy lunch of sandwiches, fruit, and cookies, we headed out. It was our intention to go to the Musee d'Orsay, one of our favorites in Paris. There are so many fantastic museums in Paris, but because we are travelling with the children, we are not going to any except the d'Orsay. Kent and I both felt that there would be interesting things for the children there, it wasn't overwhelmingly huge like the Louvre, and we certainly didn't have to spend a lot of time there.

This arch, the Arc de Triomphe de la Porte Saint-Martin,

was at the end of our street. We crossed right in front of it to catch to Metro.

Lovely bit of architecture in the heart of Paris.

When built in 1674, it was a gateway to enter the city.

We were not the only persons in Paris today to think that spending a few hours in the Musee d'Orsay on a raining day would be an excellent way to pass the time. This is the line to get into the museum. I am standing at the back. It wound back and forth, just like a line at Disneyland. The children had no patience to wait, so Kent wandered around in front of the museum while I stood in line.

There are so many great works of art in the d'Orsay. Unfortunately, most of the greatest was lost on the children. I did make an effort to engage them in some of the paintings through explanation. But there were so many people around, it was hard to find a spot to crouch down and talk to them without being susceptible to being bowled over. At one point I suggested we count naked bodies, but when, in the proceeding minute and a half we were already up to 48, I suggested we stop counting naked bodies and turned attention elsewhere.

To their credit, the kids did really like the sculptures, and we spent the majority of our time in the museum looking at those in the main central gallery. They also liked looking through the giant clock to the Seine below. The fact that the whole building had once been a train station was pretty cool to them too.

That's Brandt in the middle and Blythe crouched down.

I wish I could have gotten a picture of just the two of them,

but the masses of people made that idea impossible.

This is a view from the very top of the museum.

Just outside the museum, we stopped on a bridge and sat on a bench to eat our lunch. It was not the love lock bridge, but a love lock bridge. The Pont de l'Archeveche (and the Pont des Arts) has been covered with small padlocks attached to the bridge by lovers as a token of their undying love. I image that one got all filled up and the bridge we stopped to have lunch on is an overflow. There were lots of locks and Blythe was absolutely fascinated with them. She wanted pictures of them--lots and lots of pictures. She just kept clicking away, mostly of pink ones. Below is a sampling of those pictures, though not all. I deleted lots and lots.

Lunch

Ham sandwiches on baguettes, crunchies, apples, and chocolate covered pretzels.

The lunch view, with some building on the left

and the d'Orsay on the right.

After lunch we walked over to Notre Dame cathedral. I don't think the children have ever been in a cathedral, and we wanted them to see both the outside and inside. In the square just in front of the cathedral, they were having La Fete du Pain--the Festival of Bread. There was a baking competition and delicious baked goods for sale, as well as a several exhibits about wheat and grain production, harvesting, and processing. The highlight for the children, after eating two small pain au chocolate each, was a giant "sandbox" filled with wheat. I guess that would make it a wheatbox. It was as deep as a bale of hay and like a large wading pool. The kids took their shoes off and crawled around in it. There were masses of pigeons hanging around the wheatbox, taking advantage of the free food, and Brandt and Blythe kept throwing wheat at them, causing them to lift off in a swarm and fly around people's heads. I don't think that action of appreciated by anyone, but I could certainly see the appeal of seeing the whole flock launch up simultaneously, fly low around everyone's head causing some to sort of shriek, then all settling down again. I did, however, encourage them to stop.

The French Bread King (as he came to be known)

Blythe did not want to be left out.

In the wheatbox.

I went into the baking enclosure to check out the work.

All the competition was finished, but bakers were still working.

It was very interesting to see their technique

and delicious to enjoy their product.

More wheatbox pictures.

These are the birds, lots of them, that the children were throwing wheat at.

And that couple eating sandwiches were the ones most disturbed when they took flight.

Three unsuccessful attempts to get a picture of the children driving this tractor.

There was a long line to get into the cathedral, and then a long line snaking through the building. Although there was a sign requesting silence (it is a church after all and people do go there to pray and commune), there were tour groups and people talking. We encouraged the children to be very quiet, and they did a good job. I don't think they much cared, however, about what we were seeing.

Jeanne d'Arc in a side chapel.

We took the Metro back to our flat for a brief rest. Walking around Paris is tiring work. Here is a weird advertisement on the wall for an art show. That woman is naked and carrying a huge bundle of very long sticks. Doesn't make me want to rush out and see the artist's work. I sure do like the cute girl waiting for the train to come, however.

We returned to our flat for a bit of a rest, but the rain had cleared up and it was nice out, so we walked about three blocks down the street and found a charming little park filled with charming Parisians. There were a group of men playing boules, a smaller group playing ping pong, and lots of children running and climbing around on equipment. Our children ran around with them, and Kent and I sat and people watched. I especially enjoyed the boules. It was funny to see old French men playing together, harassing each other, and generally seeming so French.