Trip Report - Nukesafe in Italy and France in October
Oct 28th, 2006, 07:03 PM
#1
Original Poster
Join Date: Jun 2004
Posts: 4,849
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
Trip Report - Nukesafe in Italy and France in October
I have been home for a few days, now, have my inbox mostly cleared and can now do a short trip report for all of those Fodorites who helped me so much in my planing.
In short, we flew Delta out of Seattle to Rome on an open jaw flight, spent a week in Rome, took the Eurostar to Florence for three days, Eurostar to Venice, for two days and then to Paris for five days before leaving CDG back to Seattle. We closed the Venice - Paris jaw with a flight on MyAir, an Italian cheapo airline.
My Dear Wife (DW) and I traveled with her sister (SIL), and decided to go the apartment route so SIL could have her own bedroom without the cost of two hotel rooms. That worked well, with a few exceptions; of which more later.
The weather in Rome was outstanding! Not a drop of rain, clear days and nights, with the
temperatures in the mid 70s. We did all of the usual things, and saw the usual sights, interspersed with frequent Gelato stops. Our apartment was within five minutes of Campo di Fiori, at Piazza Monte de Pieta, so we were within walking distance of most of the sights, and close to a central bus stop at the cat sanctuary/ruins, where Corso Vittorio Emanuele II and Via Argentina cross. The express #40 bus stops there for a quick ride to the metro station at Termini, and the trams take one South on Argentina.
We got in on Saturday evening and, not wanting to crash too soon, followed Rick Steves suggested evening stroll of the sites up to the Trevi Fountain (Stop sneering! It was a lovely walk on a crowded Saturday evening through the Piazza Navona where a rock concert was going on.)
Early next morning we strolled over the Ponte Sisto down to the Sunday morning flea market
near the Porta Portese. Had we known, we could have easily taken the tram down, but the walk was great, as was the incredible flea market. It was huge, and varied. I might as well confess that DW and I are Garage Sale Fanatics, so this was a sort of busman’s holiday for us. SIL enjoyed it
too, even though she does not share our addiction. I should note that we later went to the highly touted flea market in Paris at Cligancourt, only to find it a seedy disappointment, by comparison.
The Rome Pass was a very good investment. We rode both the busses and Metro a lot, as well as planning our gallery visits to make the first two big ticket entrances the freebies; the Borghese and the Colosseum. We also did Ostia Antica, and a host others that are starting to blur into a memory of thousands and thousands of marble steps. Is it just my imagination, or is the whole of Italy built uphill?
Two restaurants deserve mention. One we found while wandering away from the Trevi Fountain in search of an ATM. The sign outside simply said “Grill and Wine”, at Via Arciare, 74. The service was casual, yet practiced, the presentation was spectacular, with entrees brought to the table in large, elaborately decorated, wine glasses, and then served. There was a girl singer/piano
player that sang and played popular Italian tunes. She had an incredible range, from sounding like a diva, to Satchmo. Bill for the three of us - me being the only big eater/drinker in the crowd - was €78.
The second restaurant was Alfredo’s. I have to explain this one at some length for you to see why we went there. DW had been there some 42 years ago on a trip with girlfriends when she was in college. Alfredo (Actually, the original Alfredo’s son, in 1964, Alfredo II) made much of the girls (Women, sorry!) and gave DW a souvenir menu, which he signed with a suitable sentiment.
DW had kept the menu, and when she saw in the Washington Post that Alfredo’s grandson was
coming to the Ritz Carlton Hotel in D.C. to demonstrate Fettuccini Alfredo, in 1982. We of course had to go, I was informed in no uncertain terms. DW took the menu and told her story to Alfredo III and showed him the signed menu. He was charming, and prepared the noodles himself for her. He then let her eat them, using the engraved gold spoons given to his Father by Douglas Fairbanks, Jr. and Mary Pickford.
DW of course insisted that we go back to Alfredo’s when in Rome, and brought her twice-signed menu. Unfortunately, Alfredo III was not in the restaurant that night. However, the head waiter had accompanied him on his trip to D.C. , and swore he remembered DW (He lies most charmingly, as many Italians do.). He made much of DW, stirred up the noodles himself, and let her, again, eat
with the gold fork and spoon. He also inscribed the now a bit tattered menu once again.
I had a very happy wife that evening. I swear she floated back to the apartment, even full of Fettuccini Alfredo!
The only sour note in our Roman sojourn, was the apartment we rented. It was called
“Apartment Piazza Monte Di Pieta” in the listing, and said it was on the “First Floor”, which we took to mean the U.S. second floor. It turned out that it was actually on the second (European) floor. No big deal, but after all those marble steps, the last flight of stairs were a (literal) pain.
The second, and more important bit of false advertizing was the “second bedroom”. It was
described as a “single bedroom with a French bed”. As we arrived, the maid was making up the sofa bed in the living room. “No”, we said, “My SIL will sleep in the small, separate, bedroom.”
It turned out that the hallway, through which we had entered, was in fact the second, really tiny, bedroom. It did not have a “French bed” in it, but a very small sofa bed. When that was opened one way, the small wardrobe would not open, and if opened in the other direction, one could not get out of the entry door in tht room. It seems the key to the main entry into the living room had been broken off in the lock some time before, and that entrance could not be used. We called the owner, and she said that she had planned to call a locksmith after we had left to fix the lock, but she “would see what she could do, if we could live with it for a brief time”.
Needless to say, we never heard from her again and she never returned our many phone calls during the week. SIL had to put up with us marching past her bed if we wanted to get in or out while she was still sleeping, and having to partially collapse the bed every time she wanted into her wardrobe. Not an ideal situation, camping out on her first trip to Rome.
Other than that, the apartment was well located, clean, quiet, and well equipped.
A couple of other things I should mention about our Rome stay. One is the trip to Ostia Antica. It was well worth while. The trip on the metro and train was simple and pleasant, and roaming through the uncrowded ruins was a delight. I got a couple of lovely photos of DW and SIL, emoting in the ancient theater. (They are both actresses, with more than a bit of ham thrown in.)
One minor glitch was the lack of a audio guide for the site. It was mentioned by another Fodorite some time ago, but he thought it might be only temporary. Seems it is permanent. The folks at the ticket kiosk said they knew of no plans to bring them back. I then asked for English guidebooks. Nope, they had none of those either. Italian, German, and French, but no English
available. Would have made the visit more enjoyable and informative with a guide book of some sort.
The other thing was the Vatican. Wow! What a cash cow that thing must be for the church! We went in the late afternoon, as had been suggested by others and, indeed, found the line only about a couple of hundred yards long. The line moved fast, and our waiting time was no more than 20 minutes. Once inside, however, it was like cattle being herded down a chute to slaughter! Rushing past treasures I know must be worth examining to be smashed into the Cistine Chapel,
elbow to elbow, is not my idea of a spiritual experience. I cannot imagine how it must be in the Summer when it is really crowded and hot as well. We left the chapel through the door on the right at the rear – the one marked “Reserved for Large Groups Only”. That led us directly into the entrance to St. Peters, which was a delightful experience, comparatively.
That’s enough for now. I’ll continue this report later.
In short, we flew Delta out of Seattle to Rome on an open jaw flight, spent a week in Rome, took the Eurostar to Florence for three days, Eurostar to Venice, for two days and then to Paris for five days before leaving CDG back to Seattle. We closed the Venice - Paris jaw with a flight on MyAir, an Italian cheapo airline.
My Dear Wife (DW) and I traveled with her sister (SIL), and decided to go the apartment route so SIL could have her own bedroom without the cost of two hotel rooms. That worked well, with a few exceptions; of which more later.
The weather in Rome was outstanding! Not a drop of rain, clear days and nights, with the
temperatures in the mid 70s. We did all of the usual things, and saw the usual sights, interspersed with frequent Gelato stops. Our apartment was within five minutes of Campo di Fiori, at Piazza Monte de Pieta, so we were within walking distance of most of the sights, and close to a central bus stop at the cat sanctuary/ruins, where Corso Vittorio Emanuele II and Via Argentina cross. The express #40 bus stops there for a quick ride to the metro station at Termini, and the trams take one South on Argentina.
We got in on Saturday evening and, not wanting to crash too soon, followed Rick Steves suggested evening stroll of the sites up to the Trevi Fountain (Stop sneering! It was a lovely walk on a crowded Saturday evening through the Piazza Navona where a rock concert was going on.)
Early next morning we strolled over the Ponte Sisto down to the Sunday morning flea market
near the Porta Portese. Had we known, we could have easily taken the tram down, but the walk was great, as was the incredible flea market. It was huge, and varied. I might as well confess that DW and I are Garage Sale Fanatics, so this was a sort of busman’s holiday for us. SIL enjoyed it
too, even though she does not share our addiction. I should note that we later went to the highly touted flea market in Paris at Cligancourt, only to find it a seedy disappointment, by comparison.
The Rome Pass was a very good investment. We rode both the busses and Metro a lot, as well as planning our gallery visits to make the first two big ticket entrances the freebies; the Borghese and the Colosseum. We also did Ostia Antica, and a host others that are starting to blur into a memory of thousands and thousands of marble steps. Is it just my imagination, or is the whole of Italy built uphill?
Two restaurants deserve mention. One we found while wandering away from the Trevi Fountain in search of an ATM. The sign outside simply said “Grill and Wine”, at Via Arciare, 74. The service was casual, yet practiced, the presentation was spectacular, with entrees brought to the table in large, elaborately decorated, wine glasses, and then served. There was a girl singer/piano
player that sang and played popular Italian tunes. She had an incredible range, from sounding like a diva, to Satchmo. Bill for the three of us - me being the only big eater/drinker in the crowd - was €78.
The second restaurant was Alfredo’s. I have to explain this one at some length for you to see why we went there. DW had been there some 42 years ago on a trip with girlfriends when she was in college. Alfredo (Actually, the original Alfredo’s son, in 1964, Alfredo II) made much of the girls (Women, sorry!) and gave DW a souvenir menu, which he signed with a suitable sentiment.
DW had kept the menu, and when she saw in the Washington Post that Alfredo’s grandson was
coming to the Ritz Carlton Hotel in D.C. to demonstrate Fettuccini Alfredo, in 1982. We of course had to go, I was informed in no uncertain terms. DW took the menu and told her story to Alfredo III and showed him the signed menu. He was charming, and prepared the noodles himself for her. He then let her eat them, using the engraved gold spoons given to his Father by Douglas Fairbanks, Jr. and Mary Pickford.
DW of course insisted that we go back to Alfredo’s when in Rome, and brought her twice-signed menu. Unfortunately, Alfredo III was not in the restaurant that night. However, the head waiter had accompanied him on his trip to D.C. , and swore he remembered DW (He lies most charmingly, as many Italians do.). He made much of DW, stirred up the noodles himself, and let her, again, eat
with the gold fork and spoon. He also inscribed the now a bit tattered menu once again.
I had a very happy wife that evening. I swear she floated back to the apartment, even full of Fettuccini Alfredo!
The only sour note in our Roman sojourn, was the apartment we rented. It was called
“Apartment Piazza Monte Di Pieta” in the listing, and said it was on the “First Floor”, which we took to mean the U.S. second floor. It turned out that it was actually on the second (European) floor. No big deal, but after all those marble steps, the last flight of stairs were a (literal) pain.
The second, and more important bit of false advertizing was the “second bedroom”. It was
described as a “single bedroom with a French bed”. As we arrived, the maid was making up the sofa bed in the living room. “No”, we said, “My SIL will sleep in the small, separate, bedroom.”
It turned out that the hallway, through which we had entered, was in fact the second, really tiny, bedroom. It did not have a “French bed” in it, but a very small sofa bed. When that was opened one way, the small wardrobe would not open, and if opened in the other direction, one could not get out of the entry door in tht room. It seems the key to the main entry into the living room had been broken off in the lock some time before, and that entrance could not be used. We called the owner, and she said that she had planned to call a locksmith after we had left to fix the lock, but she “would see what she could do, if we could live with it for a brief time”.
Needless to say, we never heard from her again and she never returned our many phone calls during the week. SIL had to put up with us marching past her bed if we wanted to get in or out while she was still sleeping, and having to partially collapse the bed every time she wanted into her wardrobe. Not an ideal situation, camping out on her first trip to Rome.
Other than that, the apartment was well located, clean, quiet, and well equipped.
A couple of other things I should mention about our Rome stay. One is the trip to Ostia Antica. It was well worth while. The trip on the metro and train was simple and pleasant, and roaming through the uncrowded ruins was a delight. I got a couple of lovely photos of DW and SIL, emoting in the ancient theater. (They are both actresses, with more than a bit of ham thrown in.)
One minor glitch was the lack of a audio guide for the site. It was mentioned by another Fodorite some time ago, but he thought it might be only temporary. Seems it is permanent. The folks at the ticket kiosk said they knew of no plans to bring them back. I then asked for English guidebooks. Nope, they had none of those either. Italian, German, and French, but no English
available. Would have made the visit more enjoyable and informative with a guide book of some sort.
The other thing was the Vatican. Wow! What a cash cow that thing must be for the church! We went in the late afternoon, as had been suggested by others and, indeed, found the line only about a couple of hundred yards long. The line moved fast, and our waiting time was no more than 20 minutes. Once inside, however, it was like cattle being herded down a chute to slaughter! Rushing past treasures I know must be worth examining to be smashed into the Cistine Chapel,
elbow to elbow, is not my idea of a spiritual experience. I cannot imagine how it must be in the Summer when it is really crowded and hot as well. We left the chapel through the door on the right at the rear – the one marked “Reserved for Large Groups Only”. That led us directly into the entrance to St. Peters, which was a delightful experience, comparatively.
That’s enough for now. I’ll continue this report later.
Oct 28th, 2006, 07:32 PM
#2
Join Date: Jan 2003
Posts: 11,134
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
I remember when you were asking about Afredos before your trip. I am so happy it all turned out fine and your wife even got another signature, must have made her very happy!
Too bad about the rental, what company rented it to you? False advertising indeed.
Yes, please finish your report!
Too bad about the rental, what company rented it to you? False advertising indeed.
Yes, please finish your report!
Oct 28th, 2006, 07:34 PM
#3
Join Date: May 2004
Posts: 1,190
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
I'm enjoying your trip report - Rome is at the top of my favorite cities! I'm with you - having been through the Vatican Museums 3 times, the intense crowds take away so much of the pleasure which could be gained from the experiencing the artistic treasures, it's sad somehow. Look forward to more...
Oct 28th, 2006, 07:45 PM
#4
Join Date: Aug 2005
Posts: 3,896
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
nukesafe, I'm sorry I didn't see your posts before your trip. I have been to Ostia twice, in 99 and at Christmas and all they had either time for us was the map. I recommend the Rick Steves Rome book for Ostia, even if you don't use it for anything else. It was very helpful on our second trip. Almost a different experience.
Sorry you got herded through the Vatican. On my first trip, one reason I enjoyed the Pinacoteca (spelling?) was that there was no one in there and it was very reflective with the Raphaels, me and a security guard.
Sorry you got herded through the Vatican. On my first trip, one reason I enjoyed the Pinacoteca (spelling?) was that there was no one in there and it was very reflective with the Raphaels, me and a security guard.
Oct 28th, 2006, 07:51 PM
#5
I'm enjoying your report and looking forward to Paris. The Alfredo story is priceless. I am curious whether you got to the actual flea market at Clignancourt in Paris or got sidetracked by the junky stuff between the metro station and the flea market proper.
Oct 29th, 2006, 07:59 AM
#6
Join Date: Feb 2005
Posts: 2,642
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
Thanks Dick, I'm looking forward to reading your Parisian experience.
The Alfredo's episode was really moving :'(
I would love to see your photos, please start an album on line or send me some of them
I hope you took pics of the extra "bedroom" to send to the agency if there is one and complain! >
what a shame!
coco
The Alfredo's episode was really moving :'(
I would love to see your photos, please start an album on line or send me some of them
I hope you took pics of the extra "bedroom" to send to the agency if there is one and complain! >
what a shame!coco
Oct 29th, 2006, 09:53 AM
#7
Original Poster
Join Date: Jun 2004
Posts: 4,849
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
To answer your question, SeaUrchin, we rented through Sleepinginitaly, partly because of the good experiences reported by other Fodorites. To be fair, the Agency rep. who let us in and showed us how things worked, was fine. He, however, said there was little he could do, so contact the owner. She's the one who dropped the ball, and perhaps me, too, for not taking pictures of the tiny room, Coco, and making a bigger fuss.
I wouldn't want to condem the whole agency for the few things wrong. The apartment was really all right, with both air conditioning, which was not needed, and both a washer and dryer, which was. It was my SIL that suffered, and she was a really good sport about the whole thing.
Nikki,
Yes, we did get to the actual flea market. We had been warned by other helpful Fodorites about the stalls between the Metro stop, and the actual markets. Still shoddy and a turn-off, IMO. The main difference between the Rome market and Paris was attitude, really. In Rome, they were having fun; both the vendors and the customers. Even the criminals, and their shills, doing the shell game scams seemed to be jolly about taking the suckers money in Rome. I love watching the byplay (NEVER would play myself!), and even the losing suckers seemed amused. In Paris, it was serious stuff, with long faces.
One negative thing that happened there (after we had already made up our minds that it was a bummer) was when SIL was walking past a shop, raincoat over her arm, a shop owner started cranking down his awning. It was full of water from the rain the night before, and he dumped gallons of water on SIL. Her sweater was really sodden. The shop owner quickly disappeard into his shop, as we stood there stunned. SIL calmly put her raincoat on, walked over to a quiet corner and modestly removed her sweater under the coat (don't understand the mechanics of that - but she did), wrung out the wool sweater, draped it over her sholders, and continued shopping. I told you she was a good sport.
Next time we will look for the "Arts and Crafts" type of street market in France.
I wouldn't want to condem the whole agency for the few things wrong. The apartment was really all right, with both air conditioning, which was not needed, and both a washer and dryer, which was. It was my SIL that suffered, and she was a really good sport about the whole thing.
Nikki,
Yes, we did get to the actual flea market. We had been warned by other helpful Fodorites about the stalls between the Metro stop, and the actual markets. Still shoddy and a turn-off, IMO. The main difference between the Rome market and Paris was attitude, really. In Rome, they were having fun; both the vendors and the customers. Even the criminals, and their shills, doing the shell game scams seemed to be jolly about taking the suckers money in Rome. I love watching the byplay (NEVER would play myself!), and even the losing suckers seemed amused. In Paris, it was serious stuff, with long faces.
One negative thing that happened there (after we had already made up our minds that it was a bummer) was when SIL was walking past a shop, raincoat over her arm, a shop owner started cranking down his awning. It was full of water from the rain the night before, and he dumped gallons of water on SIL. Her sweater was really sodden. The shop owner quickly disappeard into his shop, as we stood there stunned. SIL calmly put her raincoat on, walked over to a quiet corner and modestly removed her sweater under the coat (don't understand the mechanics of that - but she did), wrung out the wool sweater, draped it over her sholders, and continued shopping. I told you she was a good sport.
Next time we will look for the "Arts and Crafts" type of street market in France.
Oct 29th, 2006, 11:27 AM
#8
Original Poster
Join Date: Jun 2004
Posts: 4,849
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
Trip report continued:
One thing I should mention before leaving the Rome part of the trip, is using the Rome pass. We used it first at the Colosseum. As we walked to the entrance, I saw two long parallel lines.
Assuming the pass would get us past the lines, I confidently walked between them right up to the front, waving the Pass as a sort of magic wand. I was met by a security guard, who explained none too gently that this was the security check point, and the pass bought me nothing here!
Back to the end of one of those lines, which moved quite quickly to a cursory check of our bags, and finally into the true entrance. From there, I could see a really long line for the ticket booths. We headed to the left of
this, and right up to the turnstiles where there was an attendant that let us through a special entrance stile. Made the Pass worth it right there!
Florence:
We had reservations on an 11:00 Eurostar train to Florence; obtained online with Fodor folks help. We rolled our luggage (we went the carry-on route this time) a couple of blocks to where the #40 express bus to Termini stops, hopped on, and were at the train station within a short time. There is a sort of luggage rack/space at the back of the bus to dump your bags upon, so they were
no problem. Found our train, carriage, and seats without problem - Bin # on the big board, big Number 2 on the car to indicate second class, and the car number on a small placard in the
window of the door. Ride to Florence pleasant and uneventful. Were able to walk the few blocks to our apartment, which was very near the Duomo. Rented Apartment A800, through the “Bed and Breakfast Florence Chain”, mostly because it looked so quaint in the pictures. It lived up to it’s advertisement. It was a top floor apartment that has been expanded out under the eves of the roof to form a rather odd collection of rooms, one of which you needed to duck your head to enter. It had 7 or 8 bed places and the €170/night rental was independent of the number of beds used. Still a bargain for the three of us, as SIL got the huge and quirky room with an entrance to the funny little terrace. The seven windows and terrace gave lovely views out over the rooftops of Florence, and our bedroom window framed the dome of the Duomo. Another advantage was that there were two bathrooms, so SIL got her own spacious bedroom and a bathroom all for herself. Sort of made up for Rome.
Only negative was how narrow our bathroom was. It was so narrow that, seriously, if my femurs were an inch or two longer, I would not have been able to sit down on the pot.
What else can I say about Florence? It was wonderful! We had reservations at the Ufizzi and Academia, and just winged the rest for the rest of our stay. No memorable meals that I recall, other than stopping at a tiny place one night on the other side of the Arno for their 15 Euro dinner. Perfectly adequate meal, with wine and desert included.
DW had purchased a gold bracelet 44 years previously on the Ponte Veccio. It had been stolen from her apartment some years later, and that still rankled. All my common sense hints,
about how the price of gold has skyrocketed, and what bandits the jewelers on the Pont were, seemed to have little effect. While I rested one afternoon, she went shopping by herself and returned with — have you guessed?
It is just lovely! And it was bargain! (I have not asked, nor have I been told the price.) And, it was a BARGAIN!!!
We also took the #7 bus up to Fiosole one evening at dusk, and had a drink at the Blu Bar, as suggested by Ira, and others. Fall was coming on, and the wind was cold, so we had a rather
expensive drink inside, but where we could see the lights of Florence come up. Well worth the trip. When we finished, we waited at the bus stop, but the wind drove us into a close-by Irish
Bar. While we waited for the bartender to take notice of us - we were perched on stools so we could see the bus stop - I noticed a separate room with tables just loaded with food, and people
piling up plates. Either it was a freebie happy hour spread, or a crostini assortment for which one paid. Didn’t matter, I was hungry, and was greedily helping myself from a basket of potato chips on the bar, about to suggest we partake, when the damned bus came.
Perhaps it was for the best, because I would have pigged our, I am sure.
Venice later --
One thing I should mention before leaving the Rome part of the trip, is using the Rome pass. We used it first at the Colosseum. As we walked to the entrance, I saw two long parallel lines.
Assuming the pass would get us past the lines, I confidently walked between them right up to the front, waving the Pass as a sort of magic wand. I was met by a security guard, who explained none too gently that this was the security check point, and the pass bought me nothing here!
Back to the end of one of those lines, which moved quite quickly to a cursory check of our bags, and finally into the true entrance. From there, I could see a really long line for the ticket booths. We headed to the left of
this, and right up to the turnstiles where there was an attendant that let us through a special entrance stile. Made the Pass worth it right there!
Florence:
We had reservations on an 11:00 Eurostar train to Florence; obtained online with Fodor folks help. We rolled our luggage (we went the carry-on route this time) a couple of blocks to where the #40 express bus to Termini stops, hopped on, and were at the train station within a short time. There is a sort of luggage rack/space at the back of the bus to dump your bags upon, so they were
no problem. Found our train, carriage, and seats without problem - Bin # on the big board, big Number 2 on the car to indicate second class, and the car number on a small placard in the
window of the door. Ride to Florence pleasant and uneventful. Were able to walk the few blocks to our apartment, which was very near the Duomo. Rented Apartment A800, through the “Bed and Breakfast Florence Chain”, mostly because it looked so quaint in the pictures. It lived up to it’s advertisement. It was a top floor apartment that has been expanded out under the eves of the roof to form a rather odd collection of rooms, one of which you needed to duck your head to enter. It had 7 or 8 bed places and the €170/night rental was independent of the number of beds used. Still a bargain for the three of us, as SIL got the huge and quirky room with an entrance to the funny little terrace. The seven windows and terrace gave lovely views out over the rooftops of Florence, and our bedroom window framed the dome of the Duomo. Another advantage was that there were two bathrooms, so SIL got her own spacious bedroom and a bathroom all for herself. Sort of made up for Rome.
Only negative was how narrow our bathroom was. It was so narrow that, seriously, if my femurs were an inch or two longer, I would not have been able to sit down on the pot.
What else can I say about Florence? It was wonderful! We had reservations at the Ufizzi and Academia, and just winged the rest for the rest of our stay. No memorable meals that I recall, other than stopping at a tiny place one night on the other side of the Arno for their 15 Euro dinner. Perfectly adequate meal, with wine and desert included.
DW had purchased a gold bracelet 44 years previously on the Ponte Veccio. It had been stolen from her apartment some years later, and that still rankled. All my common sense hints,
about how the price of gold has skyrocketed, and what bandits the jewelers on the Pont were, seemed to have little effect. While I rested one afternoon, she went shopping by herself and returned with — have you guessed?
It is just lovely! And it was bargain! (I have not asked, nor have I been told the price.) And, it was a BARGAIN!!!
We also took the #7 bus up to Fiosole one evening at dusk, and had a drink at the Blu Bar, as suggested by Ira, and others. Fall was coming on, and the wind was cold, so we had a rather
expensive drink inside, but where we could see the lights of Florence come up. Well worth the trip. When we finished, we waited at the bus stop, but the wind drove us into a close-by Irish
Bar. While we waited for the bartender to take notice of us - we were perched on stools so we could see the bus stop - I noticed a separate room with tables just loaded with food, and people
piling up plates. Either it was a freebie happy hour spread, or a crostini assortment for which one paid. Didn’t matter, I was hungry, and was greedily helping myself from a basket of potato chips on the bar, about to suggest we partake, when the damned bus came.
Perhaps it was for the best, because I would have pigged our, I am sure.
Venice later --
Oct 29th, 2006, 10:19 PM
#9
Original Poster
Join Date: Jun 2004
Posts: 4,849
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
Venice:
We hiked the five or six blocks from our apartment near the Duomo to the train station; no problem, with our small rolling bags, and caught the Eurostar to Venice. We bought a three day pass, and caught the #1 Vaperreto to the Arsenale stop. Our apartment this time was the Gli Angeli, a short distance away. Sonja, the landlady, was more than helpful, and we settled into a very nice apartment that provided only one bathroom, but a separate bedroom for SIL.
We quickly learned how to use the water busses and getting around the city was easy. Rather than the ten minute walk to St. Marks Square, we would just walk a few yards to the Arsenale stop, and if a boat was in view, wait a few moments to board. Saved a lot of walking.
DW and SIL felt the same way about that square as I did, with the thousands of verminous pigeons covering the ground as you walked across it. Really put us off. When the sun had set, however, it was just lovely. DW was really into the dueling orchestras, and we probably spent much too much time, and certainly too much money, sitting there listening to them. I know the crowds of people move from orchestra to orchestra as each takes it’s break - they can do that for
free. It is more satisfying IMO to sit and sip a drink or a hot chocolate while you enjoy the music. Hang the cost.
One thing we did was try to locate the hotel that DW had stayed in 44 years before. She and her girlfriend got a room overlooking the square for which they paid about three dollars. Today, the only hotel that has rooms overlooking the square is the Concordia. We went in and talked to the desk clerk. The tariff nowadays is around 300 Euros for a night. Wish the old place was still open!
DW is a glass artist, so we had to spend a lot of time looking in the glass shops in Venice. Also, we took the Vaperrato to Murano. Mostly the same things were in the shops lining the streets, but then we found the high end galleries that featured work by the more original and renowned artists. Most of the stuff from Murano is blown glass, and DW creates stained, carved, and fused
works exclusively, but we were able to find a number of really nice things from which she was able to take inspiration. One thing struck us, and that was the signs in some shop windows, saying, “If you buy glass from China, you are destroying Murano!” I guess China is turning out cheap imitations Murano glass along with the fake Prada handbags.
We took the water busses and walked over as much of the city as we could in our limited couple of full days, but were able to finally find the mask shop a kind Fodorite recommended at S. Polo, 80. La Bottega dei Mascareri is one of the few makers left in Venice that actually creates masks, rather than importing them from China. We got to talk to the owner as he was painting the masks and he signed the one DW bought.
On the last morning, as our flight to Paris was not until 5:00, I decided to visit the Naval History Museum, which is just across the bridge from the Arsenale stop, and just around the corner from
our apartment. I had passed it dozens of times, and just assumed it housed a few rusty anchors, etc. After all, what sort of naval history did the Italians have, right? Boy, was I wrong! Anyone with any seagoing blood in their veins should not miss this place. There are five stories of some of the neatest bits of naval history I have ever seen. From guilded galleys, to ancient gondolas, to the actual two-man submarine torpedoes that crazy, suicidal, Italian sailors used to sink capital ships during two wars. They also had a tiny speed boat that was used for the same purpose. It was loaded with explosives, and driven at top speed toward enemy vessels, and at the last possible moment the lone pilot would pull a leaver (which he hoped like hell would work) and the floatable transom of the boat would detach, pulling him backward to bob in the sea, while the boat slammed into the side of the enemy ship.
We had to leave by 1:00 to be sure to catch the Alaguna boat to the airport, so I practically ran through each of the galleries of the museum, to be sure I at least glimpsed everything.
I have always viewed Venice as a sort of glorified Disneyland, and have always been negative about visiting. This brief visit certainly changed my mind. It is really fascinating, and I want to go back for a much longer stay.
We took the cheapo airline, MyAir from Venice (VCE) to Paris Orly airport. Good, clean, airline, that got us there safely, and on time. No frills, but the cost was 9.99 Euros - well, with add-ons, such as a fuel surcharge, taxes, etc., it really cost about $50 – but still a real bargain. Especially since Orly is much closer to central Paris than CDG. We took a cab to our apartment in the 7th, and the fare was less than 30 Euros, with tip.
I’ll finish the Paris part of the trip a bit later.
We hiked the five or six blocks from our apartment near the Duomo to the train station; no problem, with our small rolling bags, and caught the Eurostar to Venice. We bought a three day pass, and caught the #1 Vaperreto to the Arsenale stop. Our apartment this time was the Gli Angeli, a short distance away. Sonja, the landlady, was more than helpful, and we settled into a very nice apartment that provided only one bathroom, but a separate bedroom for SIL.
We quickly learned how to use the water busses and getting around the city was easy. Rather than the ten minute walk to St. Marks Square, we would just walk a few yards to the Arsenale stop, and if a boat was in view, wait a few moments to board. Saved a lot of walking.
DW and SIL felt the same way about that square as I did, with the thousands of verminous pigeons covering the ground as you walked across it. Really put us off. When the sun had set, however, it was just lovely. DW was really into the dueling orchestras, and we probably spent much too much time, and certainly too much money, sitting there listening to them. I know the crowds of people move from orchestra to orchestra as each takes it’s break - they can do that for
free. It is more satisfying IMO to sit and sip a drink or a hot chocolate while you enjoy the music. Hang the cost.
One thing we did was try to locate the hotel that DW had stayed in 44 years before. She and her girlfriend got a room overlooking the square for which they paid about three dollars. Today, the only hotel that has rooms overlooking the square is the Concordia. We went in and talked to the desk clerk. The tariff nowadays is around 300 Euros for a night. Wish the old place was still open!
DW is a glass artist, so we had to spend a lot of time looking in the glass shops in Venice. Also, we took the Vaperrato to Murano. Mostly the same things were in the shops lining the streets, but then we found the high end galleries that featured work by the more original and renowned artists. Most of the stuff from Murano is blown glass, and DW creates stained, carved, and fused
works exclusively, but we were able to find a number of really nice things from which she was able to take inspiration. One thing struck us, and that was the signs in some shop windows, saying, “If you buy glass from China, you are destroying Murano!” I guess China is turning out cheap imitations Murano glass along with the fake Prada handbags.
We took the water busses and walked over as much of the city as we could in our limited couple of full days, but were able to finally find the mask shop a kind Fodorite recommended at S. Polo, 80. La Bottega dei Mascareri is one of the few makers left in Venice that actually creates masks, rather than importing them from China. We got to talk to the owner as he was painting the masks and he signed the one DW bought.
On the last morning, as our flight to Paris was not until 5:00, I decided to visit the Naval History Museum, which is just across the bridge from the Arsenale stop, and just around the corner from
our apartment. I had passed it dozens of times, and just assumed it housed a few rusty anchors, etc. After all, what sort of naval history did the Italians have, right? Boy, was I wrong! Anyone with any seagoing blood in their veins should not miss this place. There are five stories of some of the neatest bits of naval history I have ever seen. From guilded galleys, to ancient gondolas, to the actual two-man submarine torpedoes that crazy, suicidal, Italian sailors used to sink capital ships during two wars. They also had a tiny speed boat that was used for the same purpose. It was loaded with explosives, and driven at top speed toward enemy vessels, and at the last possible moment the lone pilot would pull a leaver (which he hoped like hell would work) and the floatable transom of the boat would detach, pulling him backward to bob in the sea, while the boat slammed into the side of the enemy ship.
We had to leave by 1:00 to be sure to catch the Alaguna boat to the airport, so I practically ran through each of the galleries of the museum, to be sure I at least glimpsed everything.
I have always viewed Venice as a sort of glorified Disneyland, and have always been negative about visiting. This brief visit certainly changed my mind. It is really fascinating, and I want to go back for a much longer stay.
We took the cheapo airline, MyAir from Venice (VCE) to Paris Orly airport. Good, clean, airline, that got us there safely, and on time. No frills, but the cost was 9.99 Euros - well, with add-ons, such as a fuel surcharge, taxes, etc., it really cost about $50 – but still a real bargain. Especially since Orly is much closer to central Paris than CDG. We took a cab to our apartment in the 7th, and the fare was less than 30 Euros, with tip.
I’ll finish the Paris part of the trip a bit later.
Oct 29th, 2006, 10:56 PM
#11
Original Poster
Join Date: Jun 2004
Posts: 4,849
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
Corinne,
Thank you for the kind comments on our appearance; you French invented the art of flattery!
Anyway, that time can't be right. It is just before midnight here, and there is a nine hour difference in our time zones. Doesn't compute. I'm just about to go to bed -- though I'm still jet lagging a bit, and will probably wake up in about three or four hours.
Whoops, now I see where the confusion is; the time stamp is 2:16 am on my last posting, when I actually posted it at around 11:30 pm, my time. Strange!
All the best to you and yours in Dijon. We will almost certainly do a day trip to Dijon next Fall to take you guys out to a nice lunch.
Dick & Tammy
Thank you for the kind comments on our appearance; you French invented the art of flattery!
Anyway, that time can't be right. It is just before midnight here, and there is a nine hour difference in our time zones. Doesn't compute. I'm just about to go to bed -- though I'm still jet lagging a bit, and will probably wake up in about three or four hours.
Whoops, now I see where the confusion is; the time stamp is 2:16 am on my last posting, when I actually posted it at around 11:30 pm, my time. Strange!
All the best to you and yours in Dijon. We will almost certainly do a day trip to Dijon next Fall to take you guys out to a nice lunch.
Dick & Tammy
Oct 30th, 2006, 01:44 AM
#12
WE too booked our apartments through sleepinitaly in Rome, and B&B in florence in florence. Luckily our Rome experience was better than yours, after a false start when the owner of the one originally booked cancelled, and they had to find us another at short notice.
The original alternative they offered would not have suited [two double beds when we are a family with a girl aged 18 & a boy aged 15] but they eventually came up with the goods - a two bedroomed flat in monti with a terrace and a view of the colosseum. I did find their descriptions were not over-clear, and our twin room was very small, but at least it existed!
In florence, we found that the B&B organisation, was considerably cheaper than others, but our flat was a bit lacking in frills. It was however clean, spacious, and wonderfully quiet, and only 10 minutes walk from the duomo. we had two bathrooms, one very small but usable with a shower, and another larger with a bath, and a broken hairdryer. Luckily i'd had a haircut before we left.
enjoying the report - Ann
The original alternative they offered would not have suited [two double beds when we are a family with a girl aged 18 & a boy aged 15] but they eventually came up with the goods - a two bedroomed flat in monti with a terrace and a view of the colosseum. I did find their descriptions were not over-clear, and our twin room was very small, but at least it existed!
In florence, we found that the B&B organisation, was considerably cheaper than others, but our flat was a bit lacking in frills. It was however clean, spacious, and wonderfully quiet, and only 10 minutes walk from the duomo. we had two bathrooms, one very small but usable with a shower, and another larger with a bath, and a broken hairdryer. Luckily i'd had a haircut before we left.
enjoying the report - Ann
Oct 30th, 2006, 06:52 AM
#14
Original Poster
Join Date: Jun 2004
Posts: 4,849
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
Annhig,
I guess you "pays your money 'n takes your chances", when it comes to apartment renatal - but doesn't the same apply to hotels? This was our first time with the apartment route of travel in Europe, and have decided that we will do it again, at least for longer stays.
After all, what fun is travel if you don't have an adventure or two?
I guess you "pays your money 'n takes your chances", when it comes to apartment renatal - but doesn't the same apply to hotels? This was our first time with the apartment route of travel in Europe, and have decided that we will do it again, at least for longer stays.
After all, what fun is travel if you don't have an adventure or two?
or 
? (love those Fodors smileys)
Oct 30th, 2006, 09:50 PM
#18
Original Poster
Join Date: Jun 2004
Posts: 4,849
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
Paris:
We arrived at Orly from Venice on MyAir a litle after 7:00, and grabbed a cab to our apartment in the 7th. We got there before 8:30. The fare was less than 30 Euros, with tip.
Our apartment turned out to be another adventure. It was on the Rue las Cases, just around the corner from the Solferino Metro stop, and a couple of more blocks to the Musee d’Orsay. The
two bedroom flat was on the second (American third) floor and had a new, tiny, lift. The apartment itself was, I suppose, as advertized. The written description was brief, merely listing
the rooms, i.e., two bedrooms, two bathrooms, toilet, etc. We thought that it would be nice for SIL to wind up the trip with not only her own bedroom, but her own bathroom, as well.
What we didn’t realize was that we Yanks assume that a “bathroom” also includes a toilet. Mais non, Mon Cher! There was only one bathroom down the hall from both bedrooms, and even though the photos showed bidets, they did not function. The real problem was not the bathroom situation, even though the toilet seat was so loose one had to use it gently so as not to fall off, it was that the place was really old and shabby. The kitchen had been remodeled, but the rest of the huge place was straight out of 1929. We met the owner, who lived in the same building, and he said he had inherited the apartment from his grandmother. It looked as if the grandmother had just moved out. Every cabinet, and wardrobe that could be locked, was, and any drawer, or cupboard that could be opened was just full of junk and antiques mixed together. It truly was as if the grandmother had just moved out. While you could tell that the place had once been elegant, the parquet floors were so creaky it was comical. Every time we walked from room to room, we made really loud noises that sounded like amplified sound effects of creaking floors from an old radio program. The other problems were that the place was none too clean, and it was so permeated with tobacco smoke, SIL had to keep her bedroom windows wide open all the time.
Anyway, it was livable, and the owner gave his permission for my Son and his lady to use the sofa bed one night, when they drove down to visit us from Belgium. Even though it is ideally located for our tastes, I would not stay there again.
Our five days in Paris passed in a wonderful blur. I truly love that town. We walked, and walked, took public transportation everywhere, had some lovely meals, and saw art until it was coming out our ears.
I related earlier in this report about out adventures at the flea market, so I need not do a repeat. SIL wanted to see the Moulin Rouge, so we took the metro, and walked down the Boulevard de Clichy, passing the Chat Noir, and the Musee de Eroticism. The ladies had to drag me away from the window, as there was a most fascinating mechanism displayed, that involved a leopard-skin chair, and motorized rotating rubber tongues. I will say no more.
DW had been to the Moulin Rouge, the Lido, and the Folies Bergere 44 years previously, and showed some interest in going again - until we saw the prices at the Moulin Rouge for the Belle Epoque Dinner Show at 170 Euros per ticket.
DW and SIL had been in play together, at a local community theater, written by Steve Martin, called. “Piccaso at the Lapin Agile”. They knew that there was a real bistro, called the Lapin Agile in Montmarte, and asked the folks at the Moulin Rouge if they knew where it was. They did, and gave us general directions. We thought we might find it and have lunch there. They had said it was near the Place du Tertre, which dimly rang a bell, so we started off in that general direction, I not remembering that that Place du Tertre is close to Sacre Coeur, and on top of a damned mountain. I was in pretty good shape, after all of those marble stairs in Rome, but I am in my mid 70's and have lung problems, so as each flight of stairs appeared, so did my despair deepen. The climb seemed endless, but we finally did reach the top, and were directed over the hill and part way down the other side to the legendary Lapin Agile (Agile , or “Frisky” Rabbit?). Anyway, by the time we reached it, I was
anything but frisky. It turns out that it is now an historic site, and still has cabarets in the evenings – but does not open for lunch. Since the ladies were hungry — it was back up the hill to the Place du Tertre for lunch, and then Sacre Coeur.
We took the cable car thingy down the hill, at my insistance. You can use your Moblis Metro day pass for it.
We also spent quality time in the Louvre, where we picked up our four day Museum Pass, with no waiting in line.
We arrived just at the 09:30 opening time at the Rodin Museum one morning. It had rained the night before, but was then clear and still. We walked straight to the little cafeteria in the garden for our morning café au lait, and croissant. We then, literally, had the garden to ourselves for quite some time. What a lovely place!
We also got to visit the Jacqemart-Andre Museum on Sunday, after a delightful walk through the Parc de Monceau, full of French families, hoping to have brunch at the museum, but the line was too long at the dining room. We did
enjoy the museum very much, though.
The D’Orsay was by far our favorite, Gallery. Wow, what a superb place! Since it was only a couple of blocks from our apartment, and we had museum passes, we could drop in any time we
wanted, and we did. Mostly, we would go in the afternoons, around 2:30, or 3:00. Minimal crowds, and all the leisure one needs to enjoy that wonderful space. That is the way all museums should be; uncrowded, open, airy, and full of wonders.
That’s the way like to visit museums, anyway, i.e., in short bursts. Frankly, my hard disc overloads after about an hour of looking at art. I find myself simply overwhelmed, and not appreciating or enjoying what I am seeing. My most memorable museum experience, ever, was many years ago at the Rijksmueum in Amsterdam. I had been fired from my job in London and was almost dead broke. I was staying with a friend in a barge on a canal in Amsterdam, while casting about for a job back in the States. Every day I would ride the tram to the Museum, which was free at that time, pick a single room, and spend 45 minutes really looking at things. That was enough. I was full, and could go off to digest what I had seen for the rest of the day. The next day I would be back, and do another room. I was able to do that all winter.
Lovely memories!
I’d love to do that with both the D’Orsay, and the Louvre – though I suspect it would take the rest of my life to do the Louvre.
We ate well in Paris. I took the ladies to Angelinas, where they were, unfortunately, out of the Mt. Blanc desert, but had plenty of hot chocolate left. I got them macaroons. We ate crepes from street stands. We had lunch at the Train Blu. We also had lunch on our last day at the Jules Verne. That was just about perfect – particularly as SIL treated us in honor of DW’s birthday. We had a window table, and had coffee in the bar afterwards.
Our cup runneth over!
The Ladies even had an afternood doing the litle shops in the Marias, and in the big places like Gallerie Lafayette, while I went off to see Napoleons tomb. I of course forgot my umbrella, and it began to bucket down. What a wonderful place, is Paris - never more than a few steps from a cozy bistro where one can take shelter with a glass of wine for company!
That’s it. We had a wonderful trip, and will be back as soon as we can swing it.
Thanks again for your help, Fodorites.
We arrived at Orly from Venice on MyAir a litle after 7:00, and grabbed a cab to our apartment in the 7th. We got there before 8:30. The fare was less than 30 Euros, with tip.
Our apartment turned out to be another adventure. It was on the Rue las Cases, just around the corner from the Solferino Metro stop, and a couple of more blocks to the Musee d’Orsay. The
two bedroom flat was on the second (American third) floor and had a new, tiny, lift. The apartment itself was, I suppose, as advertized. The written description was brief, merely listing
the rooms, i.e., two bedrooms, two bathrooms, toilet, etc. We thought that it would be nice for SIL to wind up the trip with not only her own bedroom, but her own bathroom, as well.
What we didn’t realize was that we Yanks assume that a “bathroom” also includes a toilet. Mais non, Mon Cher! There was only one bathroom down the hall from both bedrooms, and even though the photos showed bidets, they did not function. The real problem was not the bathroom situation, even though the toilet seat was so loose one had to use it gently so as not to fall off, it was that the place was really old and shabby. The kitchen had been remodeled, but the rest of the huge place was straight out of 1929. We met the owner, who lived in the same building, and he said he had inherited the apartment from his grandmother. It looked as if the grandmother had just moved out. Every cabinet, and wardrobe that could be locked, was, and any drawer, or cupboard that could be opened was just full of junk and antiques mixed together. It truly was as if the grandmother had just moved out. While you could tell that the place had once been elegant, the parquet floors were so creaky it was comical. Every time we walked from room to room, we made really loud noises that sounded like amplified sound effects of creaking floors from an old radio program. The other problems were that the place was none too clean, and it was so permeated with tobacco smoke, SIL had to keep her bedroom windows wide open all the time.
Anyway, it was livable, and the owner gave his permission for my Son and his lady to use the sofa bed one night, when they drove down to visit us from Belgium. Even though it is ideally located for our tastes, I would not stay there again.
Our five days in Paris passed in a wonderful blur. I truly love that town. We walked, and walked, took public transportation everywhere, had some lovely meals, and saw art until it was coming out our ears.
I related earlier in this report about out adventures at the flea market, so I need not do a repeat. SIL wanted to see the Moulin Rouge, so we took the metro, and walked down the Boulevard de Clichy, passing the Chat Noir, and the Musee de Eroticism. The ladies had to drag me away from the window, as there was a most fascinating mechanism displayed, that involved a leopard-skin chair, and motorized rotating rubber tongues. I will say no more.
DW had been to the Moulin Rouge, the Lido, and the Folies Bergere 44 years previously, and showed some interest in going again - until we saw the prices at the Moulin Rouge for the Belle Epoque Dinner Show at 170 Euros per ticket.
DW and SIL had been in play together, at a local community theater, written by Steve Martin, called. “Piccaso at the Lapin Agile”. They knew that there was a real bistro, called the Lapin Agile in Montmarte, and asked the folks at the Moulin Rouge if they knew where it was. They did, and gave us general directions. We thought we might find it and have lunch there. They had said it was near the Place du Tertre, which dimly rang a bell, so we started off in that general direction, I not remembering that that Place du Tertre is close to Sacre Coeur, and on top of a damned mountain. I was in pretty good shape, after all of those marble stairs in Rome, but I am in my mid 70's and have lung problems, so as each flight of stairs appeared, so did my despair deepen. The climb seemed endless, but we finally did reach the top, and were directed over the hill and part way down the other side to the legendary Lapin Agile (Agile , or “Frisky” Rabbit?). Anyway, by the time we reached it, I was
anything but frisky. It turns out that it is now an historic site, and still has cabarets in the evenings – but does not open for lunch. Since the ladies were hungry — it was back up the hill to the Place du Tertre for lunch, and then Sacre Coeur.
We took the cable car thingy down the hill, at my insistance. You can use your Moblis Metro day pass for it.
We also spent quality time in the Louvre, where we picked up our four day Museum Pass, with no waiting in line.
We arrived just at the 09:30 opening time at the Rodin Museum one morning. It had rained the night before, but was then clear and still. We walked straight to the little cafeteria in the garden for our morning café au lait, and croissant. We then, literally, had the garden to ourselves for quite some time. What a lovely place!
We also got to visit the Jacqemart-Andre Museum on Sunday, after a delightful walk through the Parc de Monceau, full of French families, hoping to have brunch at the museum, but the line was too long at the dining room. We did
enjoy the museum very much, though.
The D’Orsay was by far our favorite, Gallery. Wow, what a superb place! Since it was only a couple of blocks from our apartment, and we had museum passes, we could drop in any time we
wanted, and we did. Mostly, we would go in the afternoons, around 2:30, or 3:00. Minimal crowds, and all the leisure one needs to enjoy that wonderful space. That is the way all museums should be; uncrowded, open, airy, and full of wonders.
That’s the way like to visit museums, anyway, i.e., in short bursts. Frankly, my hard disc overloads after about an hour of looking at art. I find myself simply overwhelmed, and not appreciating or enjoying what I am seeing. My most memorable museum experience, ever, was many years ago at the Rijksmueum in Amsterdam. I had been fired from my job in London and was almost dead broke. I was staying with a friend in a barge on a canal in Amsterdam, while casting about for a job back in the States. Every day I would ride the tram to the Museum, which was free at that time, pick a single room, and spend 45 minutes really looking at things. That was enough. I was full, and could go off to digest what I had seen for the rest of the day. The next day I would be back, and do another room. I was able to do that all winter.
Lovely memories!
I’d love to do that with both the D’Orsay, and the Louvre – though I suspect it would take the rest of my life to do the Louvre.
We ate well in Paris. I took the ladies to Angelinas, where they were, unfortunately, out of the Mt. Blanc desert, but had plenty of hot chocolate left. I got them macaroons. We ate crepes from street stands. We had lunch at the Train Blu. We also had lunch on our last day at the Jules Verne. That was just about perfect – particularly as SIL treated us in honor of DW’s birthday. We had a window table, and had coffee in the bar afterwards.
Our cup runneth over!
The Ladies even had an afternood doing the litle shops in the Marias, and in the big places like Gallerie Lafayette, while I went off to see Napoleons tomb. I of course forgot my umbrella, and it began to bucket down. What a wonderful place, is Paris - never more than a few steps from a cozy bistro where one can take shelter with a glass of wine for company!
That’s it. We had a wonderful trip, and will be back as soon as we can swing it.
Thanks again for your help, Fodorites.
