Jet Lag

October 9

The time change really got to us this trip.

We actually got some sleep during the flight, which is unusual. Joanna says I was snoring, along with three or four other guys on the plane. Today, though, we had trouble getting up at 10 and didn’t hit the sidewalk until close to one.

Joanna had read about Musee D’Orsay, which has an extensive Impressionist collection, so we went there today. And it is impressive.

We strolled down to Quai Voltaire, where the museum sits directly across the river from the Louvre.

We stopped on the way for crepes in a small shop squeezed among restaurants not far from the bridge to Notre Dame. Joanna had crepes with creme de marrons, a spread made with chestnuts (her favorite crepe topping), and I had crepes with honey. I haven’t had honey in a while, and the aroma and the taste of sweet and minerals was fantastic.

The museum building, I learned later, began life as a rail station in 1900. I gather (this was all in French) that the building was repurposed as a museum in the 1960s or 70s. Apparently the collection began with a gift from a collector. Since then other collectors have added their holdings, and some pieces have been accepted by the state as to cover taxes. 

The red-headed self-portrait of Van Gogh, a striking alternative Starry Night, several other familiar pieces are here. So are several Gauguins, including some painting on glass, possibly for his home in the South Pacific.

The Renoirs, Monets, Manets, dozens more are in a series of galleries. One of my favorite Renoirs has a wall to itself. It’s a large painting called Bal du Moulin de la Galette. It shows men in straw hats and ladies in long dresses partying in dappled sunlight. There is a cluster of people at a table in the foreground, couples dancing, and more people fading into the distance. The representation of light and shade on the complex texture and colors of the crowd is vivid, almost but not quite photographically realistic, and downright amazing.

Two famous Manets, Olympia and Luncheon on the Grass, are also in the museum. Both were very controversial when they were new. Instead of an antique pagan goddess or an anonymous naked lady, Olympia portrayed one of Paris’s leading prostitutes. The other raised a stir because it showed men in street clothes with nudes. I guess if the guys were naked, too, they would all have been accepted as classical and there would have been no problem.

The photo of the day is Paris Through Time. It’s a view of the Right Bank seen through the glass clock on a window of the museum. I think this was on the second floor.

Museum browsing wore us out. At least, it wore me out.

We stopped for pasta. Joanna had a version of carbonara—cream, egg, and bacon—and I had a red sauce with onion, olive, and egg plant. I was too tired out even to want wine with dinner.  

We stopped at a cafe earlier in the day, about a block before we got to the museum, and I had a glass of Bordeaux at a sidewalk table. That was enough for the day. What’s coming over me? I hope it isn’t a trend.

Be well, everyone. I’ll send more when I do more.

Harry