Discovering Paris in the Marais

Saturday evening

Ah, so nice to be home! Of course, I only have a couple of days till I'm off again, but I mean to spend them hanging around doing nothing. My back was a bit better today, but I walked around a lot and my feet are pretty sore.


Last night I left a ton of time to get into the centre of Amsterdam, before having to take a bus out to a different suburb than my hostel, and then, typically, faffed about at the central station and then realised I didn't know where the bus actually left from, resulting in a bit of a panic. It all worked out fine though, unlike for the one poor young gentleman who left his bag on the tram and eventually set off for Paris without it.

My heart sank when a group of about half a dozen noisy young cock-of-the-walk French teenagers turned up, loudly announcing their intention to smoke a joint before the bus set off, singing songs, saying stupid incomprehensible things in English to be cool, etc. I decided the only way forward was to fight fire with fire, so I countered their boisterous teenager routine with my own sulky teenage routine, full of sighs and eye rolls and angry looks. I felt a bit silly when the bus got going and they all turned out to be as quiet as little lambs. I really shouldn't be pointing any fingers when it comes to maturity levels.

In fact, the return trip turned out to be much better. I had stupidly picked the seat directly behind the driver (I think from memory there were few options available when I booked) and I realised at once that that would be no good, with constant headlights and so on coming through the windshield. Luckily enough, once again some people didn't turn up and as soon as the bus started off I raced down the aisle quick as a flash to claim the only other unoccupied row. I didn't feel like I slept more than the outgoing journey, but I must have since I arrived in Paris feeling relatively fresh (and I'm still up at 10.20 pm, not having slept yet).

We got to Paris at 6.30 am or so, and I decided to walk over to Austerlitz with my suitcase. Stupidly, I went the wrong way and had to come all the way back, and it ended up taking over an hour, by which time I was very sick of my suitcase. I left it in the lockers at Austerlitz and, following Mary Kay's suggestion from Tuesday, headed to the Marais to explore a little bit.

I think I've somehow managed to avoid ever setting foot in the Marais before Tuesday, and it was nice to wander around its narrow streets before the many tourists got there. Seems like a pretty cool neighbourhood, but those tourists would drive me mad! I caught a little of the early sun before going to the Musée Carnavalet, which covers the history of Paris. At first, I wasn't overly impressed by the museum. I'll admit that I didn't bother reading most of the labels on the pictures (which were generally very brief anyway), but it didn't really do a good job of teaching you about the history at all. Rather, it just presented paintings and objets d'art from each historical period with very little context. There's only so many paintings of dead guys in wigs I can look at without getting bored.

However, as the museum went on, I found there were some cool things, particularly the reproductions of period rooms. I always love seeing these and imagining I'm a fancy 17th century lady or whatever. There was also a gorgeous pharmacy designed by Mucha (and I gave myself many bonus points for thinking "that looks like Mucha" before reading the label. I wish someone else had been there to witness me being smart) and a ballroom decorated with scenes from the story of the Queen of Sheba.

Gate to the Musée Carnavalet

Imagine having this dude in your house, you'd never be in a bad mood! I think it's an actor from the Comédie Française in the 19th century

Interesting stained-glass window from the Chat Noir caberet. At the left, a black cat attacks "virginity" (hidden meaning not so difficult to interpret), while in the middle a woman seems to be strangling a baby in front of a golden idol. 

The furniture from Marie-Antoinette's room in prison in the Temple. Looks pretty cushy!

Revolutionary-era families liked going to the guinguette too!

Some monkey business going on here

Exterior of the pharmacy designed by Mucha (unfortunately there was no space to take a better photo)

Interior of the pharmacy. I wish my pharmacy looked like this!

I thought this Revolution-era plate was cute, it looks like Saint-Exupéry's drawings for Le Petit Prince or something. The caption says "I announce (or foretell, herald) to you the happiness of France"

A painting of a rat ready for eatin' during the Siege of Paris in 1870-71

One of the pretty panelled rooms

This room was particularly lovely

They had a whole room full of pub and shop signs from Paris. I wish these still existed!

This was some sort of flag or banner. Bet someone was pissed when they realised they forgot the "r" in "liberté". Also: couragé ?

Dramatic ballroom of the Wendel hotel. Actually, I think it wasn't a hotel at all, but a hôtel particulier, i.e. fancy townhouse

For lunch, I thought I'd follow the people with felafel and try the "other" place across the street from the As de Fellafel where we ate on Tuesday. Unfortunately, the As de Fellafel was closed, so instead of feeling like a counter-cultural rebel laughing at the sheeple lined up on the other side of the street, I was lining up right there with them. And I've got to say, l'As de Fellafel was better. Better flavour, the spicy sauce was less overpowering, and at this other place I asked for no tomato and they put it in anyway. Plus they had two plastic chairs right outside which I thought must be for customers to use while eating their felafels, but instead a scary old crone came and shouted at me for sitting in her chair. Then I got up and she just moved it to the other side of the doorway with three other (empty) chairs, so I can only conclude that it was a honey trap designed to lure weary/unwary tourists in for a bit of a verbal spanking.

I then chilled out for a bit in the Place des Vosges (again at MK's suggestion - she really does know her way around the city), and may have even drifted off to sleep for a minute. I woke up with a start and an arm flail, and thus had to spend the next 10 minutes doing things like stretching, checking my watch and shaking my arms about in an attempt to look like I hadn't just been publicly sleep-twitching. Oh dear.

Ground-level view of a fountain in the Place des Vosges, after my mini-nap

Was it just in New Zealand where there was a strange Filofax fad amongst young girls in the 80s/90s? What was that about? I think any "cool" diary with a key and with multiple sections was pretty desirable, but Filofax was top of the pile. And did this shop open back then, or are people in the Marais really really into Filofax still? So many questions.

I've been wanting to go to St. German des Prés for ages, but I stupidly forgot my map of Paris in the locker and thus while I managed to find my way to the general area (going past Notre Dame on the way - I really must go in again one of these days when there's not such a long line), I didn't manage to find the exact location. I was definitely close by, but I didn't know exactly what direction it was in and I was really tired of walking around, so instead I went over the Pont des Arts and to the Saint-German l'Auxerrois church across from the Louvre, where I accidentally crashed a wedding. The guests were coming out when I arrived and some tourist-looking types seemed to be going in, so I went in and realised after about 5 minutes that the bride and groom were actually still in there. Since when do the guests leave a wedding before the bride and groom? I suppose they must have been taking photos because they were in there and/or milling about the entrance for a very long time, until I eventually just gave up and went to Austerlitz pretty early to wait for my train. I was really ready to go home by this stage. Shame, since it looks like a very pretty church.

Notre Dame and its long queue

Arch detail on Notre Dame

And again

The Pont des Arts. Apparently you're not meant to put the padlocks on as it causes a huge nuisance for the city having to cut them off (unsure why they need to cut them off, but anyway)

Looking back across the Pont des Arts to the Institut de France

Church of Saint-Germain l'Auxerrois

Bedtime now, to recover my energies for next week!

A tower with a view and a room without one

Friday evening

Back in the hostel, writing a quick blog post before I set out for the bus (leaves at 11.15 pm). I think today was the best day I've had in Amsterdam, whether because of what I did or because I've caught up on sleep and am a bit less grumpy, I don't know.

I had a bit of a slower start to the morning, it was after 10 or even close to 11 by the time I got into town. I started off with a quick wander through the red light district. It was apparently too early for the prostitutes in windows, that or I wasn't in quite the right bit, so I missed those, but walked past a few coffee shops which were already open for business. I recognised the smell from police burnings (which is a lame joke about a specific incident that happened in NZ that I've already used on the blog before, but for some reason I still find very funny. If anyone cares, some guys were once caught smoking dope in the toilets at Parliament and the guy that dobbed them in said he recognised the smell from police burnings. Which is just the nerdiest thing ever. Him saying that, not me telling the story - I'll let you make up your own minds on that.)

Another wall plaque

Rambling aside, I went to the Anne Frank house and once again found that the line was too long for my likings, so instead I went next door to the Westerkirk and bought a ticket to climb up the tower at midday. It was actually quite a steep climb, but broken up in to convenient stages where the guide (you can go up max 6 at a time) explained various things about the tower and the bells and so on. I don't seem to remember anything that she said, must have been due to walking past those coffee shops.

Even the churches were getting behind gay pride! I didn't realise when booking that it was this weekend, so unfortunately I missed the parade on Saturday. Oh well, these things aren't much fun alone anyway

The huge organ inside the Westerkirk. "Huge organ" sounds dirtier than it should...

Views from the tower

After coming down from the tower, I checked the Anne Frank line again, still too long unsurprisingly, and decided to stay in the church for a free organ concert at 1. I assumed that it was going to be on the massive organ, but apart from one song, it was all on the little one. It was quite nice, I'm not the biggest fan of classical music, but yeah all good. Most of the audience seemed to be listening to it with their eyes shut, which I found more than a little creepy, but maybe that's the done thing at organ recitals.

STILL a big line after the concert, so I just wandered around looking for lunch. Imagine my surprise when I found a pie and mash shop! I don't know when the last time I had a pie was! These, of course, were a bit fancier than your NZ petrol station mince and cheese number, but very good all the same. I had a small chicken pie with mash and, as the menu described it, "groovy" (gravy).

Mmmm, pie

It was getting a bit later in the day by this stage, so I decided just to suck it up and go wait in the line for the Anne Frank house. I probably got in it at about twenty to five, and it only took twenty minutes or so to queue up, so not too bad. I came out again at 6.15 and the line was the same length as when I went in, so that made me feel better.

I'm really glad I went, it was very moving. I started tearing up as soon as I got in and saw some big photos of Anne on the walls, and I cried a few times thereafter. I didn't see anyone else crying, so either I'm just a big wuss or they were very discreet. You start out in the warehouse/office bit which would have been filled with people coming and going, most of whom did not know there were people hiding upstairs. Then you head up into the secret annexe itself, before coming out to an exhibition showing some more of what happened to the Franks and the others in the annexe once they were found and a display of the diaries themselves (there are several, plus Anne started rewriting the original diaries with the intention of publishing something after the war).

There are more rooms than I remembered (it's been a long time since I read it) - two stories plus an attic - but all the rooms are really quite small. I couldn't imagine being stuck in there 24/7, having to stay absolutely quiet all day and not let any lights show all night, with 8 people. The rooms are kept empty at the wish of Otto Frank, I think they said to show what was lost rather than putting it back to "normal". It's so tragic that they got so close to the end of the war before being discovered and killed. There was a really sad interview with Anne's best friend who was in a slightly better part of Bergen-Belsen than Anne and was able to talk with her through a fence. She was saying that she wished Anne had known her father was still alive, as after the death of her sister she had nothing left to hope for, and she died just a month before the camp was liberated.

Photos weren't allowed in the house, but I snapped this horrible Slavic version in the bookshop. It would be utterly tasteless to suggest that they chose to depict her shortly before her death of typhus, so I won't

From the Westerkirk tower - Anne Frank's house is the white one with one window in the foreground. It seems amazing that none of the workers or anyone thought, "hmmm, this house is a lot taller on the outside than the inside", or at least not for a long time (it's still unknown who betrayed them to the Nazis)

A less than enthusiastic day's outing

Thursday evening

I slept well last night, even though it rained quite loudly on the metal blinds in the room. I did decide to go to the Rijksmuseum this morning, getting there in drizzly weather at about 10 am. There was no line, but it was pretty crowded in the relatively small exhibition space. As I mentioned, I was aware that because of the renovations, only the "masterpieces" were on display, however I failed to realise that they were restricted only to the Dutch Golden Age. Since I don't really like landscapes or 17th century art or Rembrandt, I was a bit disappointed to have shelled out 14€ to see it, especially in the relatively unpleasant cramped exhibition space. Oh well. 

After the museum, I walked in to town and had a nice lunch of chicken parmigiano, and then walked to the Oude Kerk. Not to sound like a sour old stuck record, but it was a bit underwhelming as well. It's pretty much empty, since the Protestants destroyed most of the old artwork in it, and you have to pay to get in.

So yeah, that and watch the gymnastics final was pretty much all I did today. Sorry it wasn't very interesting.

Sorry for the slightly random order of the photos below, I forgot to group the Rijksmuseum ones together when I was naming the files.

This made me laugh

Incredible doll house at the Rijksmuseum

Dollhouse detail

My Latin's more than a little rusty, but I think this means 'Hope of another life' or something like that

A spot of cat torture by Jan Steen

Detail of Rembrandt's Night Watch

Another Night Watch detail

The Oude Kerk

Inside the Oude Kerk. It was quite hard to photograph, it's just kind of like a big empty barn or ship or something

Carved choir stalls in the Oude Kerk. Many of them illustrated proverbs, but the guide didn't tell me what this interesting one may be

This, however, is "money doesn't fall out of your arse", apparently the Dutch version of "doesn't grow on trees"

St. Nicholas church

St. Nicholas church window

Okay, I'm not a style maven, but this guy was such an uber tourist it made me laugh - from the shorts to the white sneakers to the black knee socks to the floppy hat... Unfortunately, he did have his camera around his neck but must have taken it off

This was my favourite picture in the Rijksmuseum, by Caesar Van Everdingen

This dude looks way more pleased with himself here than I would be if I were him

This seems to depict starving naked children begging for food?