OK, here we go, our one full day in Paris. We’d basically be getting to the half dozen places that we’d failed to get to during our first visit in 2008. And yes, we were in Paris for Fashion Week. First, the Catacombes. Last time, we arrived in mid afternoon to find a line around the block. This time, we showed up before they opened (just) and the line was only a few minutes long. And once we were in, the few people with us quickly thinned out and we basically had the place to ourselves to wander through. We’ve been to ossuaries before (most notably the incredible one at Kutna Hora church in Sedlec, Czech Republic) and this would be the granddaddy. It didn’t have the artistic frivolity of the Czech ossuary, but it certainly did well in sheer scale and monumental solemnity. Next, over to the Deyrolle shop, first opened in 1831 by Emile Deyrolle. Well, not shop so much as showcase of taxidermy oddities. A simple gardening shop on the ground floor leads upstairs to an astonishing array of stuffed mammals, reptiles, birds, insects and creatures of all kinds, great and small, spread among a half dozen huge rooms. Literally, they went from entire full-grown bears down to the tiniest of insects, all mounted and on display (don’t touch in French, and no pictures allowed). Sharon bought an expensive bug which will have a special place in our new home. (We were later surprised to see Deyrolle appear briefly in a scene in the Woody Allen movie, Midnight in Paris, that they played on the plane on our way home!)

Lunchtime! Found a very nice restaurant, balked at the prices a bit and settled for a delicious lunch of two appetizers (shown is asparagus wrapped in proscuitto). Next door was a random toy shop that also separated us from more money. Sharon continues to be fixated on Barbapapa, a French children’s television show, which is an obsession that started during our last trip here four years ago! Next, the Musée Dupuytren. This is a medical museum (tucked inside the grand l’Ecole de Médecine, part of the Sorbonne) that, like everything on today’s itinerary, we’d tried to visit during our last trip but which had been closed for the school holidays at the time. It took us a bit of wandering in the l’Ecole complex to find it (including walking through a Paris Fashion Week event) but we did and it didn’t disappoint. Like Philadelphia’s Mütter Museum or the Josephinum in Vienna, both of which we’ve been to, this collection of medical oddities had been assembled over two centuries to educate medical students on the human body. More specifically, the medical abnormalities of the human body. Mostly preserved in jars of fluid but occasionally represented as wax figures, absolutely every awful disease or abnormality you’ve ever heard of was well represented here, often in triplicate. Sharon gasped at her discovery of some preserved examples of Harlequin babies, to which two other young American medical students who were in the museum responded by rushing over to see them as well. In total, the entire museum was held in one large room, but it was completely packed with specimens and probably exceeded the American museums in scale. And the curator, who is also a physician, was there and showed us around! He uses the museum to teach anatomy and pathology courses. Here’s a bunch of great photos from the Morbid Anatomy website. Moving on! At this point we were making good time, so we headed for the Musée de l’Orangerie, an entire building dedicated to Monet’s dreamlike “Water Lilies” mural series. Chris was underwhelmed and glad that we hadn’t paid extra for the 10 minutes we spent in there (we got in via our museum pass). Up next was a shop on the other side of the Louvre, and then the Louvre itself, so we had a nice long (and slow) walk down through the Tuiliries gardens. Midway we sat in some extremely comfortable chairs and did some primo people watching.

We walked towards and then basically through the Louvre gates, past the Arc de Triomphe du Carrousel, pictured here. Note this is not the more famous Arc de Triomphe de l’Étoile, which is about two miles away at the far end of the Champs-Élysées. In this photo, looking east, you can see the iconic Louvre Pyramid framed inside the arch.

Through the Louvre plaza to the other side, we reached the Artoyz shop. This tiny shop specializes in otaku, which is basically hipster toys usually inspired by Japanese culture. In other words, crack for Sharon.

And finally, our last official destination of our Paris trip — the Louvre. As we did last time, many people just avoid the Louvre because it is so daunting, and you could spend months here and still not see everything. This time we did tackle it — we spent 3 hours simply wandering the halls (independently), seeking out various obvious highlights — a Mona Lisa here, a Venus de Milo there, et cetera. Chris was most stunned by the entire medieval fortress (that the Louvre was eventually built over) that had been excavated out under one of the wings. The Louvre is a museum without peer — it is an entire city of artwork, the entirety of human artistic endeavor under one roof, from the Code of Hammurabi to Napoleanic decorative riches. At some point in the Louvre we caught a bite to eat at a cafe, so afterwards it was straight back to the hotel to collapse.

Dupuytren

Today was to be mostly about getting to Paris and other logistics, but we’d have one bit of Paris sightseeing at the end.

We packed up, cleaned up the condo, and drove the two hours back to the Marseilles airport where Uncle Andreas keeps the car (he’ll be coming down from Munich himself next week). We just missed the shuttle bus to the train station, so got a taxi. This taxi driver was particularly surly, even by French standards. He didn’t even grunt when Chris gave him a tip on top of the exhorbitant fare; later Chris discovered that he’d left his sunglasses in the cab, so that bastard got those too.

Thankfully the TGV ride to Paris was just about perfect. TGV stands for Train Grand Vitesse, or simply high speed train. The station was easy to navigate, the train was right on time, and we quickly found our seats. Chris had sprung for first class fares, which meant assigned seats, big ones, quiet car (cell phones banned), big windows. Chris watched the countryside go by — and with a trip from Provence to Paris, you are watching a large part of France go by indeed. The Massif Central (the “massive” mountainous region in central France, sparsely populated) loomed to our west as we coursed up the Rhone valley at speeds of around 180 MPH. We arrived in Paris in the Gare du Lyon train station, and from there we caught a couple Metro (subway) connections. The weather for our entire European trip has been unseasonably warm and Paris would be no exception. The Metro is not air conditioned, and with our 5pm arrival in the city we were right in the middle of the sweltering rush hour crowds. Dragging heavy suitcases. Not knowing exactly where we were going. Oppressive heat aside, the Metro whisked us to our hotel’s neighborhood (Saint-Germain-des-Prés), within two blocks of the station we had finally reached our hotel for the next two nights. Tucked into a courtyard off the quiet Rue Jacob, the Hotel Marronniers is your typical Parisian hotel, with tiny everything — tiny lobby, tiny elevator, ludicrously tiny shower … but a great location. And we lucked out (well, Chris had asked for it a month ago) and got one of the few rooms at the top of the hotel (at the hotel’s attic level, basically) that overlooked the courtyard, with a view to the Saint Germaine church (and beyond, the controversial Montparnasse tower). After a respite and a quick wash to remove the Paris Metro slime, we were back out on the streets. Tonight’s one destination would be the Musée d’Orsay, which we had only had a chance to literally speed through (in 15 minutes) during our first trip to Paris in December 2008. This time we had 2-3 hours to soak it in. The building is an 1890’s train station, a gargantuan open hall, that was converted in the 1980s into this museum. The Louvre has all of the French national art treasures from antiquity through about 1848, and that’s where the Musée d’Orsay picks up, with paintings and sculpture and everything else from the second half of the 1800’s and on into the 1900’s. As we would also see later in the Louvre, the scale of the building allows them to put on display truly huge artwork, such as the scenes by Courbet, but there were also plenty of small spaces for more intimate works (such as, ~cough~, some paintings by Courbet).

At 9:30pm they started kicking everyone out, so it was finally time for our late dinner. After a few misfires, we found a restaurant still open and had a simple but fantastic meal — a french onion soup appetizer, veal scallopine, a “salad” with everything (shown here), wine and beer.

Chris got sick last night, and so today we just stayed in and focused on relaxation and getting better.

Things we were going to do today:

Pont du Gard roman aqueduct

Avignon and papal palace

Saint Remy

Luberon: Gordes and Rouuuillulililiooon

By evening Chris was feeling better, so we’d be back at full speed in the morning!

The Camargue is a wetland on the coast of the Mediterranean Sea. Camargue horses (wild and not), bulls and birds of all kinds populate this area. Sources of income include sea salt, rice farming, lavendar and olive products.

We went to the Parc Ornithologique de Pont de Gau bird sanctuary. The park is filled with marshy lagoons with flocks of flamingos, swans, dozens of kinds of ducks, geese, egrets, etc. We also saw a muskrat hanging out, eating grass. This became less wondersome when we found a family of three muskrats a few feet from the snack shop grazing on grasses.

Up next was Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer (“Saint Marys of the Sea”). This coastal town is famous as the supposed place where the three Marys (Mary Salome, Mary Jacobe, and Mary Magdalene) first landed when they fled Egypt. The patron saint of the local gypsies is Saint Sara (aka Black Sara), who may have been an Egyptian slave that arrived with the Marys. We approached a lovely stone church and were spotted by several gypsy women who tried to sell us religious medals. While Sharon perused the local shops for booty, Chris went up into the church tower. You can walk around the perimeter of the church roof and see the town and environs for many miles around, and actually you can climb on the gabled stone roof itself. A little scary but fun!

Heading back inland the way we came, our next stop was the Chateau de Avignon. Alas, closed on Tuesdays.

Just down the road a bit further was the Musée de la Camargue, which is a modest farmhouse that recreates the rural conditions of the Camargue farmer. Alas it was closed, in defiance of the sign saying it was supposed to be open. Next to the museum was a large fenced in pen with two horses standing next to each other. One of the horses got to its knees and then rolled over and took a very ungraceful dust bath. We went over to the pen and Sharon clucked at them, upon which they both came right over to the fence and let us pet them and feed them almonds. Once we ran out of almonds they nuzzled our arms, and by “nuzzle” we mean “chewed on our skin with their lips and even teeth”. We played and petted them for about 15 minutes and we were sad to leave.

We headed west out of the Camargue wetlands proper to towards Aiges-Mortes, an entire town within a gigantic fortress.

The exterior walls are ramparts with firing holes where the soldiers would try to fend off approaching armies. We went up into a tower of the fortress where the evil protestants were held at one time. We walked part of the ramparts and could see for miles around. People live inside the fortress and have shops and cafes going, where they refuse to serve meals at appropriate times. The museum shop had a cat that was very used to the crowds of young students on field trips.

We returned to Port Camargue and went to the “Super U”, sort of a multi-purpose store with amazing (to us) groceries and clothes and hardware. Probably the French equivalent of Walmart. We had dinner in Le Grau-du-Roi and returned home, exhausted.

We woke a bit late because we had spent much of the night battling the literally infamous Port Camargue mosquitos. We had a light breakfast of bread and cheese and coffee in town and hit the road. Chris enjoyed driving around the many round-abouts, which is generally how they handle road intersections here.

We entered the city of Arles, which in antiquity was a major Mediterranean seaport (up the Rhone river) under Roman rule starting with Julius Caesar. As is typical with Roman cities, there was a huge arena (similar to the iconic Colosseum of Rome) that was used for gladiator fighting and other “popular” entertainment, and then also a theater for more refined tastes. Both were open to the public but under renovation — perpetual renovation being the hallmark of these places. There is also much Van Gogh history too, as he spent a year here painting the countryside.

After wandering Arles for a bit, we hit the road again, stopping first to fuel up the car. Diesels are extremely popular cars all over Europe, both due to their inherent efficiency and even some government subsidies. Nearly every car model is offered with a diesel version, and the muffled clatter of the diesel engine is heard everywhere here. A stop at the gas station tells you why they are so sensitive to efficiency here — gas and diesel cost twice as much here as in the U.S. Filling up the small VW’s tank costed us $100.

Back on the road, after only a couple miles we reached the Abbeye de Montmajour. Well, actually we tried to get a late lunch at the little open-air restaurant across the road from the abbey, but ran into the fact that restaurants in France open for lunch, close for a few hours, then re-open at 7pm for dinner. And so began our trip of gentle starvation.

Anyway, back to the abbey. Built on top of (and in some places carved into) a small rocky outcrop, this Benedectine monastery was just an incredible place. From the gravesites carved into solid rock (see above picture) to the massive stone arches to the tower with the stunning views of the countryside, this was one of our favorite destinations. Most freaky of all were the gargoyle carvings on the columns around the cloister, such as this one of the fabled tarasque monster having a snack. And then we stumbled across a little gallery in the middle of it all, where the french artist Nicolas Guilbert, had been commissioned to do some photography of the site, involving animals.

Down the road a little further, we stopped in the small town of Fontvieille to get some lunch. Well, again, there was no lunch proper to be had, but the cafe we stopped at was serving drinks and pastries, so we basically had a lunch of sugar, including the best apple pie that Sharon had ever had.

At this point it was getting late in the afternoon, so we made one last stop of our trek — a climb to the little village of Les Baux. Located high on an Alpilles mountain peak, this tiny village is basically carved into the hillside just below some ancient castle ruins. We got there just at closing time for the castle grounds proper, and had just missed a demonstration of their trebuchet, one of the largest in the world. Guess what the armies would often use as ammo for these gigantic slinging machines to throw at their opponents? Captured opponent soldiers! Geneva Convention, huh.

Back to Port Camargue. For a real dinner (hooray!). The Michelin-rated restaurant L’amarette was recommended to us by Andreas and others. We had a prix-fixe menu with beef, salmon, fish, shrimp, a great local white wine and a chariot de fromages. That’s right, a chariot of cheeses. Dessert was a variety of sorbets and creme brule. Yum.

We waddled back to the apartment and slept with the windows closed to avoid the mosquito onslaught.

In the morning there was more bustle with cleaning up and a post party brunch with leftovers from the previous day. Breads, cheeses, weisewurst, sausage salad and cakes were all consumed as well as coffee with beer chasers. That’s right, beer for breakfast. We packed up, said our goodbyes and Renate drove us to the airport.

Bye Jazz!

Our first plane took us to Frankfurt and from Frankfurt we flew to Marseille in the south of France. Uncle Andreas owns an condo in Port Camargue, a kind-of prefab marina town on the coast of the Mediterranean sea.

The Camargue region is famous for its flamingos, bulls, sailing and seafood, and would make a great launching point for our trips into Provence. The town we were staying in, Port Camargue, is just west of the Petit Rhone and thus officially out of Provence, but this phase of the trip would really be all about Provence. Just above Port Camargue is Provence, to the southwest of PC the French cost curves south towards Spain.

Andreas leaves a modest car at the airport, which we found and got ourselves packed into. From the airport we drove west, first through the industrial grime that is the outskirts of Marseilles and then finally into the mirror-flat coastal countryside of southern Provence. It had been a while since Chris had driven a manual transmission car (or even a gas car, for that matter) but he got the hang of it. We arrived at the apartment around 9pm, settled in and prepared for a busy few days in Provence.

Mediterranean

Party day! Everyone was very busy setting up for the party – a caterer and a beer keg were ordered and about 20 guests came in addition to the ~20 family members already here. Renate had many people to celebrate with her, including her former coworkers who performed a skit poking fun at the career counseling service they all worked at. Conny prepared a family cookbook for Renate with recipes from families and friends from all over the world, including a large amount of material from Monika’s old cookbooks. The party went late into the night with several bonfires going at once, music playing and much beer consumed. Shown in the first picture above are Renate’s friends in the “dirndl” traditional dress.

Cousins Susann and Winny, with King Ludwig II on the stein lid

The gift table

The buffet table – first course

Everyone settling in for the (first) meal in the late afternoon

Monika (Chris’s mother and Renate’s twin sister) was there in spirit. Shown here is the digital photo frame that had dozens of photos of Monika running in a slideshow.

Chris and Sharon in the party tent

Jazz obeying her daddy Marcy’s command and staying put despite the swirl of party activity around her.

The family cookbook, organized by Conny

Oh Oktoberfest, it’s a good thing you only come once a year. Munich’s celebration takes place in the large Theresienwiese fairground near downtown whose only function is for this annual event. Ever been to a state fair? This is sort of like that, but literally about 10 times bigger, with less agriculture and a LOT more beer. The panaroma pictures here are from just one corner of the whole thing. Everything is constructed in August for the big festival, and then torn back down in October. It’s immense.

Oktoberfest is basically a huge carnival with rides, trinket booths, games of chance, and food everywhere you turn. Bratwurst, chocolate covered fruits, smoked fish on a stick, popcorn, cotton candy, pasteries, pretzels and more.

But the fairgrounds are dominated by eight massive “tents” set up with thousands of tables and benches. If it has balconies, can it really still be called a tent? The tables are reserved for 2-4 hour stretches from 9am to 11pm, and you must reserve a table months in advance.

The beer comes in gigantic mugs (1 liter, called a mass or “measure”) and everyone is chugging. Eventually people are standing on the tables and benches, singing. All tents have a large bandstand in the middle (some have more than one) with traditional music (you know, “oompa oompa”) being played and people singing along drunkenly. Marcy swears some people get naked, although he says that’s usually just the New Zealanders. People are here from all over the world.

Although Aunt (“Tante”) Renate’s birthday party isn’t until tomorrow, by the time we got back home at 3:30pm much setup activity was already in motion, with Conny naturally in charge. A large tent was erected and tables and benches set up and decorated with Bavarian themes of edelweiss flower, lebkuchen, small pretzels and the iconic checkered blue and white Bavarian flags.

After the men-folk finished building the tent, they went off on a short drive around the countryside and Autobahn. The caravan of three cars was led by a Porsche 996, a 10-year-old 911 with a fairly obscene amount of horsepower and a demonic grip on the road. With Chris as ballast in the passenger seat, driver Marcy gave Chris his new land speed record: 270 km/h or 168 MPH. 250 km/h? Fine. 260 km/h? OK. 270 kmh? Hmmm, that’s a little scary now. Ludicrous speed!

Arrivals. Cousin Susann, her husband Peter and their children Serafin and Simon arrived in their minivan and camper trailer. Then cousin Teresa and her beau Nils. Then, much later and with much griping about traffic jams (“stau”), Aunt Gisela, cousin Winny and his wife Marianne. Much food and beer is consumed with the cousins joking and jabbing at each other.

Miscellaneous Bonus Pictures:

The impossible to describe whip cracking song (Goaßlschnalzen)

Oktoberfest!

“Beloved Devil” lebenkuchen, and chocolate covered strawberries with chile flakes.

Smoked fish

Creepy coffee stand

Horses bring in beer kegs

Bratwurst stand, in motion

The next day Conny drove us out to Chiemsee, a large lake about an hour outside of Munich in the Bavarian countryside. Chris’s Uncle Andreas, Conny and Sabrina’s father, owns a couple sailboats at the lake and an electric boat (gasoline boats are prohibited). In the middle of the lake are two islands — the Herreninsel with Ludwig II’s Herrenchiemsee palace, and the Fraueninsel with a village and several restaurants.

The four of us clambered into the electric motorboat and puttered out to one of Andreas’s favorite restaurants on the Fraueninsel, had a lunch of beer, fish and potatoes and then boated back. Andreas took a nap on the back of the boat on the way back and let Chris finish the leisurely drive.

Then we drove back to Munich, after stopping at a dirndl store to pick up a spare apron for Sabrina. We dropped off the car and took the Munich transit system (U-bahn and S-bahn) to the Pinakothek Moderne — driving to the museum was out of the question because the Oktoberfest traffic was snarling driving and parking for mile around. The museum houses a huge permanent design exhibit, an architecture gallery, and many modern artists, such as Picasso, Warhol, Magritte, Klee, etc. The design section had a large modern jewelry show including these crazy rings. Sharon plotzed.

We then had dinner at a large Bavarian restaurant with Conny. Lots of pork, dumplings, cabbage salad and beer.

Tomorrow, Octoberfest!

Miscellaneous Bonus Pictures!

Weird outside taxidermy display at a Cheimsee restaurant (“We don’t eat there”, said Andreas)

Sharon is merely blinking, not terrified.

“Modern” computers at the museum

A brooch in the design section

Today we’re leaving Amsterdam. Worn out from the last two days of hyperactive sightseeing, we take it easy and saunter out of the hotel at 10:30am. Tram to Centraal Station, train to Schipol airport, get through security, wait for delayed plane, finally get on and make the relatively short flight to Munich. Chris saw many wind turbines from the air.

We were greeted at the airport by Chris’s Aunt Renate and cousins Conny and Sabrina who brought us big bottles of beer and fresh pretzels. Then we went out to the parking lot and drank the beer and ate the pretzels. Now that’s how you greet people at the airport. Technically, we’re here for Renate’s birthday party which will bring most of Chris’s German relatives to Munich. The girls are wearing traditional Bavarian dress of dirndl (the fancy dress with the apron) and lederhosen (the leather shorts). With the annual Oktoberfest many people wear their traditional clothing during the two week celebration.

This visit we’re staying at Sabrina and her boyfriend Marcy’s house outside of Munich. They live on a 5-acre estate in a hundred year old house with a beautiful yard full of fruit trees, marmots, pheasants, and their two dogs, Jazz and Casey. Jazz is just about a year old and is huge. She’s part Leonberger and parts ‘other’. Below you see her falling asleep with her squeaky schwein toy. Casey, the black one, is “standing guard” in the driveway in the photo above, and snoozing in her special outside chair in the photo below.

The girls are wearing traditional Bavarian dress of dirndl (the fancy dress with the apron) and leiderhosen (the leather shorts). During Octoberfest many people wear their traditional clothing.