Molly and Dana came up with a plan to visit Sacre
Coeur in the hilly hipster neighborhood of Montmartre. Enjoyed the steeply
inclined streets and colorful, historic neighborhood. Just getting out of the Abbesses
stop Metro Station requires a serious climb. Abbesses probably means abbey, as in monastery, and refers to the
Sacre Coeur basilica positioned high above on the hill.
A restroom need influenced the direction of our
Montmartre tour—in a good way. We approached a statue dedicated to Dalida, a
singer. A group of Spanish tourist kids congregated around the statue. We
checked th public at a nearby park and
it was locked. Walked further and we
came upon a small building identified as “Renoir Museum.” In support of the
increasingly urgent need for relief, I walked in and asked the price for entry and
it there was a nearby restroom. In a moment of decisiveness I paid everybody’s
entry—the 44 euros for our foursome—a steep price that maybe breaks the Guinness
record for most euros paid toilet use, but the Renoir Museum entry proved to be
a good investment! We were delighted when the museum and garden, including a
vineyard, provided a real glimpse to the Montmartre history—a story of party,
wine, women, and art.
Reed and I got a special treat when a young woman,
presumably French and about college age, started speaking to us in English,
about a painting. The painting’s theme warned against over-partying! A woman in
the painting ignored the care of her child and a man held a gun in the process
of committing suicide. No kidding—quite a diatribe against Dionysian behavior!
Our delightful ingénue, explained these details but turned out to be from
Georgia, USA. She must have absorbed the speech rhythms of a French person from
her study abroad. We were quite captivated by her attention.
The rest of the building had great coverage of the
salon of writers, artists, comedians and party culture of Montmartre, made
immortal by Toulouse-Lautrec and his depictions of Moulin Rouge. I know now the
Lapin Agile cabaret was made immortal by a Picasso painting from 1905 Au Lapin Agile. The cabaret’s entrance
could be seen from our vantage point at the museum. Interested in the meaning
of the club name… a Lapin Agile is a nimble rabbit—and kind of sounds like a
predecessor to Bugs Bunny!
One of the Renoir Museum’s brilliant exhibits
showed the many films with scenes shot in Montmartre—a nice stroll through
cinema history with a surprisingly strong group of films making use of Paris’s
romantic, bohemian neighborhood. Oh, and I forgot to mention that the building
served as Renoir’s studio for a time and several masterworks were composed on
the premises, nicely raised above much of the neighborhood and just a stone’s
throw from Sacre Coeur.
We felt so gratified by the museum visit that
hunger called to us with greater strength than a tour of Sacre Coeur. We bought
another one of those tasty French sandwiches on baguette and consumed them on
the steps of Sacre Coeur, just above the line of tourists waiting to enter the
basilica. Suddenly a Truffaut film unfolded before our very eyes. We watched as
two of the local gendarmes in police vests apprehended one thief, a young
woman, while a young man escaped them by racing down the very steep steps
heading down into the neighborhood streets. The girl thief had stuffed some
object in the back of her shirt and it bulged outwards. Montmartre upheld its
bohemian reputation with that episode—for how far is an artist or a rake from a
shoplifter or a quick-grab artist? The challenge is getting away with it. For
as Andy Warhol said, “Art is whatever you can get away with.”
The evening ended at Breizh Café, with our Paris
stay also coming to a close, a crepe place in Marais at the Rue Vielle du
Temple. Most notably for me were the final moments of dinner when Reed bought
dessert for two women at a neighboring table. The generous gesture was
completely unexpected. It had to be explained first to the ladies and then to
the waiter. “Please put the bill for the desserts on our tab,” Reed explained.
The women, one from LA and the other Washington DC, seemed transported by the
act of kindness. They became talkative and shared about their reason for being
in Paris, a professional librarians conference. I realized we could be uplifted
by a thoughtful gesture, especially a surprise, a random act of kindness as
I’ve heard them called. We suddenly become more confident, outgoing people—kind
of like you do after a couple of margaritas. Not sure the connection between
alcohol and being the recipient of a random act of kindness, but I’m sure it has
much to do with the release of some chemical in your brain.
This was our last night in the Marais apartment and
a bit of apprehension clouded the air. Molly and Dana prepared for their AM
flight back to California. For Reed and me our departure from the Gare De Lyon
train station for our bullet train ride to Barcelona Sants loomed ahead. Part
two of the European tour was about to begin.
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