Millennium 2001

Millennium 2001

Paris

By Carl Korn

December 17, 2000, Sunday

Again, as has been my wont, I will pre-title this adventure based on early experiences in leaving the house as THE VOYAGE OF THE ATTITUDES.

We were 35 minutes late in being picked up by our shuttle service van. The driver said he had been scheduled to pick up others at the same time as us. He then took a long route for a third fare who he had to find somewhere in a large apartment complex, which delayed us another 10 minutes.

An around about ride to LAX led us to an Air France ticketer who was so confused by the prior customer’s lack of a Visa for Cairo—which he didn’t need at LAX, only upon transfer at Charles DeGaulle or on entry into Egypt, that we feared for our un-ticketed luggage which she was placing on the conveyor belt and our passports and tickets. To which she said, “You must have trust in people”.

As we took our seats upon the 400-seat plane I discovered that she had taken my return trip ticket from Paris to LAX and I had no evidence of being able to fly back. It took two pursers, one of whom scurried back to the entry gate to retrieve my ticket and by another who later splattered red wine over my beige polo shirt—effecting my carrying pouch for travelers’ checks and passport, which was about my neck. That purser never returned to clean me up.

A decent van ride to the Hotel Dauphine St Germain des Pres and everything seemed to be O.K. Sophie was lovely. Our new room smaller than ever, but the Feng shui seemed to give us our best nights sleep ever in Paris.

A new deskman, Patrick Kelly, was totally incompetent and rude. One late night he did not answer the front door after a 10-minute wait and only the appearance of his relief allowed us to get into the Hotel. He had also given us bad information on dialing out of the hotel, wrong metro stop for the Musee Moderne Art and so forth.

It seems to be hard to get decent help.

Another example of service: we walk into the only Rockport shoe store in France. We await for the middle-aged woman to cease in her social conversation with a man, only to be told that I should have bought shoes wherever I was from in America. It could have been cute, but she was so rude that I exploded at her for insulting the size of my feet.

Obviously Frenchmen have small, thin appendages and she was threatened by a size 12 wide…

Tuesday

Our first day began with the usual mild wandering the streets and being greeted as familiars by our patisserie in the Buci, by the Greek Gyros man and many nods from the local shopkeepers.

This second night was spent at the Bastille Opera attending a beautiful “Nutcracker Ballet”. It was a Nureyev variation on Petipa. At two points, the male initial solo in the snow and Clara’s last solo brought tears to our eyes, and again on our recalling the performances.

During the day we had gone to the Baccarat Museum and bought a pale sage green crystal cabochon ring for Elizabeth and a clear gold crystal butterfly for me. This was after mistakenly purchasing a $560.00 blue crystal pendant with a tiny diamond chip in it that I thought was $56.00. Eliz wore the new ring to the ballet, of course.

And as could have been expected throughout this entire adventure AmEx has refused card transactions on a daily bases to our embarrassment. Supposedly for security reasons!!!

Wednesday found us on a train to the Normandie city of Rouen. It was a beautiful city where Joan of Arc was burned. We had typical food and highly spiked apple cider, that I thought was calvados. The city is lovely and very wealthy. It is lined with crooked-timbered buildings and shops. Young people and ancient cathedrals abound. We bought a fiance from the lady who made them in front of us. It was a very fine side trip, which we will do again.

Thursday we spent at the Louvre seeing our old friends and eating twice in the Carousel du Louvre area...tapas with paella and roasted chicken from two different stores.

Friday night found us at the Theatre du Chatalet for the world premier of Peter Sellars’ John Adams “El Nino” with Dawn Upshaw, Lorraine Hunt, and Willard White. Brilliant, especially from our front row orchestra seats.

Saturday we wandered through the Galleries Lafayette and viewed their giant Xmas tree in the center of the main room with crystal chandeliers hanging from the branches.

Walked to Fauchon's, Place Vendome, and Carousel du Louvre and with my broken toes and all we made it back to our hotel where Hung had come by.

In the evening we went to St. Suplice and saw an amazing statue of Mary and Jesus in the alcove and a giant pipe organ. Elizabeth was asked to get off the free carousel ride, but I have a picture of her on the poor horsey.

Sunday

Walked along the Seine from Pont Neuf to Chatalet and saw minks for sale in a pet store..Metroed to the Trocadero area for an excellent Moderne Arte exhibit of “The French School” between the Wars in Paris—it was heavily Jewish. New artists to us were Chana Orloff and J. Fujutsi. There was a huge room walled from top to bottom of Duffy’s “Birth of Electricity” mural. It helped to have seen thousands of art works prior to this exhibit.

Walked over to Diana’s Memorial at Pont D’Alma then over to the Petit Palace, where on the corner was a new statue of Charles DeGaulle overlooking his Champs D’Elyses and city.

Dinner at the Café Montebello, where Eliz and I had eaten two years before on XMAS Eve, with Hung and Dinh. The African waiter talked us out of Calvados---I had ordered it thinking it was Cider.

Walked into Shakespeare and Co. and had hot buttered rum from community glasses and spoke with the screwballs of Joseph Campbell and life in Kansas. What was the wishing well really about in that store?

Spent 2 hours at the night mass at St. Severin—lovely, except for Dinh becoming so fidgety, within 10 minutes, that she and Hung left with one hour to go missing the great French XMAS carol that Eliz has been chanting since early childhood. I always am amazed by my patience—it was really a lovely service and not to be missed as a cultural event. The young congregation matched the soaring Gothic arches and flaring vaulted ceilings erupting from the columns in the three naves.

Monday—XMAS day it rained. We walked to St. Eustache and found the Brancusi “Head of Man” to be defaced with paint. Then to the new bejeweled Metro entrance at the Palais Royal. We wondered the absence of lighting in it for darkness.

No IMAX now at La Defense, where the area was very dilapidated.

Across town to the Marais where we discovered, on our own, the world famous “Joe Goldenberg's Restaurant”. I am sure that I have not eaten so much chicken fat since my mother last made grievan-nes. That was the first meal from which I threw-up on this trip.

Well, I can tell relatives that it was Kosher.

We’ll return to it…the food was splendid even though it was HEAVY.

We are tired today.

Tuesday, December 26, 2000

We did not awaken in time for Reims departure by 8 A M and so we stayed in bed and then went to Notre Dame, the fabulous St. Chapelle which gets better with each viewing of almost total stained-glassed windowed walls in the Upper Chapel. Over to the Galleries Lafayette where we espied a ghastly looking Hung filling up a couple of purchase bags. We made plans for tomorrow at The Musee D’Orsay with them.

We ate in the GL cafeteria—trout amadine and rice—very good. Never had done this before. Even went to the outside roof of the G L for a scenic view of Paris---could not see much through the rain and clouds.

Over to Fauchon's and down to Place Vendome with a stop in Breguet’s to price a $21,000.00 limited edition watch that I truly fell in love with. Elizabeth saw a glass crystal pendant with pave diamond backing for $3,500.00 at Cartier’s. Pity we both lose on these trinkets—unless the Stock Market markedly changes…Can you believe this conversation especially since our non-purchase of IKEA plastic silverware at the Musee of Moderne Arte.

We are abed at 7:15 PM.

Wednesday

The D’Orsay for the 4 of us. Or really the 3 + 1.

A great Nijinsky exhibit. He must have been a beautiful and brilliant, hung man from all of the sketches.

More tourists from our neighborhood in LA.

Bought yarn a Madame Jean, who twittered upon my apparently remembering her.

Where did I meet her, before two years ago at her shop on Rue Boucherie???

The yarn may not be the perfect colour—but what the hell…

Thursday

Again overslept our call for Reims. Bumped into Hung and Dinh at the Deportation Memorial behind Notre Dame.

Then we went to Fontainebleau and the room in which Napoleon signed his abdication and into the courtyard in which he bid his troops adieu. Peacocks were on the grounds.

This was after a lunch of oysters and a concoction of potatoes-camembert-ham, and roast chicken with pistachio and fraise dessert. How can we eat like this????

Home at 8 PM after watching the Russian septet at the underground Metro stop at Chatelet and Pont Neuf change.

Friday

Wandering into the Grand Magazines—still no shoes for my broken toes, just linens, foodstuffs and lunch. To the Etoile and Champs at twilight. XMAS trees at the Pont Rond that were both real and sculptured. It was –1 degree Centigrade. Everything matched the blue lights that were Paris’ lighting theme for this Holiday Season.

Saturday

An early rise for the Travel Agency around the corner’s trip to Mont St. Michel.

A real fortress just off shore the Normandie coast. It was a 4+-hour van ride away with 2 sisters from Madras living in Hoboken and a couple from Singapore. We ate a raw-ish 6 egg roasted omelet at La Mere Poulard with a liter of Cider and finished it with a crème brulee. We will absolutely never eat that combo again. Then we walked to the very tip top of the ancient abbey on its very ancient narrow streets. All I can say is WE DID IT.

It seems to me some of our adventures have almost perpendicular to the ground pathways lately. Eliz began to throw-up as soon as we were returning to Paris, necessitating our stopping the van drive repeatedly. Actually it began in the parking lot which gets flooded daily with the higher tides. The lady from Singapore was of aid with Kleenex.

Sunday

As we were strolling through Place Madeleine I did a double take of the most astounding multi-hued gray Chinchilla full-length coat I have ever seen. It was adorning an olive skinned, blacked turbaned beauty who looked like she had just stepped off of a Givenchy runway. Her walk allowed the vertically bottomed skins to flare as if it were Dracula’s cape. She was followed by 4 steps or so by a pasty faced man of 50. He watched, as the world, other than me, paid no heed to this costumed mannequin. I said to the lady during my double take, “That is a beautiful coat.” She nodded and we both found ourselves with mates behind us at Fauchon’s buying extravagant jellies.

This was New Year’s Eve…what can one expect. I planned on my next conversation with her, should she be at the Palais Garnier in the evening. Eliz listened without saying a word beyond “The coat is breathtaking. She isn’t”.

So, to the Palais Garnier for Balanchine’ “Jewels” with a light snow falling as seen through the windows of the Salon Glaces during an intermission break with courtesy champagne and puffed pastries in hand. Wonderfully overdressed women from all over the world, but no “Chinchilla Lady”.

At 11 P M we were heading to the Place Concorde. Got a baguette and cola and went into a crush of 450,000 people in the Place. It was astounding. The sound was of drums from all regions of the world, loudly broadcast and matching the spinning search lights in ice white, silver, gold, rose, violet, blue, emerald green patterns mixed in with gray, playing upon Cleopatra’s Needle, the fountain in front of the Orangerie and across of the faces of all the buildings on the Place. The center of the Grand Roue was a giant golden knob-pate-ed with lights radiating outward along the multi-colored spokes and occasionally a white searchlight went from 12 to 6 position on the wheel. Emerald green lasers went into the icy skies. When midnight approached, the sound was of Strauss’ “Thus Spake Zarathustra” used in the movie “2001” and backward countdown from dix. Then the Eiffel Tower changed from gold/white lights to a mixture of blue and gold/white. No explosion this year, the Place Concorde was the explosion. We can’t imagine we will see anything quite as remarkable again.

We walked home along Blvd St Germain, as we had done last year. The drums still echoing through the city.

January 1, 2001, Monday

All night TV with “Victor/Victoria”, The girls from the Crazy Horse Saloon Review—my oh my….

About 2 P M we went to Place Opera to view Paris’ New Year’s Day Parade. It was charmingly floated with mannequins of a cartoon quality and American High School marching bands. We invited an American middle-aged couple of ex-patriots for coffee and gossiped. They invited us for dinner the next night in their apartment.

Tuesday, January 2, 2001

Window-shopping again and dinner with the Kirkpatrick’s at their flat. Great paella, garlicky artichokes, stewed zucchini, fabulous Brie, wine and our dessert of Gateau Roi. They live 6-9 months at a stretch in each of the great cities of Europe on $2,300.00 or less a month. That has been going on for 4 years. This apartment was no more than 2 rooms of 10x12 feet, a microscopic kitchen and small bathroom. How do they do it??

Wednesday

Bill Viola’s nothing exhibit at St. Eustache. Then into the Catacombs of Paris to view 6 million skeletons in a maze at least 2/3 mile long, topped-off by a vertical climb of 83 steps.

Thursday, January 4, 2001

Our last full day in Paris was spent at The Louvre with a final nosh at our local McDo of the newest fad, Croq Monsieur. This was our only stop at McDo this trip.

Friday found us in LA with a red van ride home that entailed the driver knocking down a motorcyclist and our fleeing him and his Nazi, AIDS dying passenger, at the local hotel. The Nazi refused to have any civil conversation; “I am not interested in talking to anyone about anything”, he growled from his leather, nail-spiked garb.

The driver insisted that we be witnesses in his defense---how could we?? We truly had seen nothing.

Another series of “Attitudes” to have dealt with.

We dragged ourselves home to find 2 living room windows shattered by a piece of pipe that the old gardener must have knocked off the sprinkler system and that flew across the room. Luckily it missed the newly rebuilt/refinished piano and the bronze statue on top of it. The police reassured us. Nothing had been stolen.

I took a shot of Calvados—it is very strong.

We went to bed.