Much of the trip was spent in the company of dead people - long dead in most cases. The Boyfriend bought me this book, Permanent Parisians - An Illustrated Guide to the cemeteries of Paris for my birthday. So we paid visits to the cemetery in Montmartre, the catacombs, and a return (for me) to Cimetière du Père-Lachaise. This time I made sure my camera battery was charged and after the obligatory stop at Jim Morrison's grave we headed straight for Oscar Wilde.
We also spent lots of time eating enormous, rich meals and alot of time walking, and walking, and walking. Seriously, The Boyfriend is a hard taskmaster. We walked to the Latin Quarter from Gare du Nord on Friday after taking the Eurostar from London. On Saturday we walked from our hotel in the Latin Quarter through the Jardin des Tuileries and up the Champs Elysees, past the Arc de Triompe and about another 2km out of our way before we realised we were further along the map than we thought, then back up the hill to Montmartre, and back down into the centre and over the river back to the hotel. (It took a lot of willpower for me to say "we" then when I meant "The Boyfriend".) Then all over the islands after dinner. On Sunday we walked south to the Catacombs, then a loooong way east to Pere Lachaise, back to the Bastille for dinner, and then back to the hotel. And Monday was laps of the Louvre, a fruitless trip to the Musee Rodin (which was closed), back along the Seine and up to Gare du Nord to leave for home. Given the amount of calories we consumed during the trip (steak (for The Boyfriend), oysters, fish, wine, croissants, french fries, cheese, everything with cream/salt/sugar and all absolutely delicious) I'm sure we probably broke just about even.
The hotel was the same one some of my family and I stayed in when we came to Europe in 1995 and it hadn't changed at all. The stairs are still sagging away from the wall on crazy angles. Climbing the staircase to the fourth floor after those long days of walking and a few wines with dinner was sometimes rather challenging.
3 comments:
Hi Lauren,
just talking about Oscar Wilde funnily enough. I lived near Pere La Chaise for years...must do a post about it.
Did you see Victor Noir's grave? A 'shrine' for frigid women...
Wow, living near Pere La Chaise must have been fabulous. Please do a post about it! I didn't get to Victor Noir's grave sadly. (Apparently touching it is now a prosecutable offence!)
Nooo! Hilarious. But certain sections of it were quite badly damaged from rubbing as it were...I think I've got some pictures somewhere, I must have a look.
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