Too many events for a title?

Today was a series of adventures. More so than the other days, that is. From 7h30 (when I took forever to get ready so I didn't get in the way of my famille d'accueil, only to realize that nobody was home) until 23h30, the day was jam-packed. That is, it most certainly included jam. Spoiler warning: TONS of food pictures.

Speaking of jam, this is breakfast.

This is also breakfast (the cake from last night)

Did I mention that this, too, is breakfast?

After such a scrumptious (and ample) breakfast, I was ready to face a 9am class. I slunk outside into the -2˚ weather (centigrade, not Fahrenheit. This is nothing!), and began my daily march.

Recognize this? I see it every morning from just outside, and, if I had a better camera, I could have captured today's ephemeral grace. Instead, be content with a grayish backdrop.

I finally had a content class, the Second Guerre Mondiale (a history of WWII in France). It seems promising. After a mere hour and a half of class, I was halfway done for the day! We all went to the study room (it was too early for lunch), where I did the reading for my other class (for the entire week. Status: homework-free!), and then, highlight of the morning, lunch. We went to a crêpe kiosque, but naturally I had to compare their paninis to those of Coeur de Blé, so I got exactly the same.

Note delicious-looking panini

Conclusion: Coeur de Blé has better paninis. Next time? Get a crêpe! That said, it wasn't exactly bad (in fact, it was delicious. This is Paris, who are we kidding?). Then another course: l'Histoire d'Art which seems fascinating as well. Next class meets at le Petit Palais. Then, at 2pm, I was free for the day.

We split up and went our separate ways. My way was leading towards a museum, although Tuesday is the off-day for most of them, and very few are open. I wandered through the Jardin du Luxembourg on my way north-west-ward, and it was lovely in the semi-sunshine.

I swung by New York for a brief visit...

The sculptures lining the serpentine paths attract the eye, but don't distract from the natural aspect of the park. In fact, they feel essential to the cultivated French style, wherein the element of elegance is derived from a mastery of the natural world. This means symmetry. And lines.

A typical French garden. Symmetry, lines, the works.

More very-French-ness

The Senate happens to be well-situated, plopped right down in the park, where it can preside over the natural world of France as well as the people. Nestled in beside the museum and the fountain, the French really could have done worse for themselves.

Said lovely senate building. Real sunshine included.

More incredibly organized trees. Even at an angle, the pattern is evident.

Here's man and nature at its finest. The only skyscraper in Paris, looming over a statue in an arboreal oasis situated in the center of a bustling city.

The fountain

Since I was nearby, I figured I ought to see if the Musée du Luxembourg was open on Tuesdays. It just so happens I was in luck, and I had the privilege of standing in line for twenty minutes to wait for a bag check before even going inside! Good thing I had a book and warm gloves.

Unlike the Musée D'Orsay, even certified students have to pay here, but it was worth it. The current exhibition is on Paul Durand-Ruel and his role in the promotion of Impressionist paintings (spoiler alert: it was a tremendous role). Overall, the predominant artists were Renoir and Monet, but Sisley was huge and many others were present several times over. Besides learning a terrific amount about the rise of impressionists in France, I came away with a new appreciation for Renoir. I took some of my favorites to go (no, not a doggy bag. Photos were allowed).

Woman Napping (Or Woman With Cat) is my English translation. 

The Reader (my English translation). 

When I finished the exhibit and was ready to bundle up and head back out to my ramble, I remembered my intention to go to Gibert Jeune, and set off in the vague direction of Place St. Michel. On the way, I stumbled across l'Eglise St. Sulpice and decided to take a peek. Suffice it to say, it was magnificent.

While the scale of gothic churches is always stupendous, some achieve a rare loftiness that stems from the mastery of details, a true perfection. St. Sulpice is one such church. Every capital of the numerous columns is ornate, crisp, well-defined. This is one of the glamorous churches with frescoes and paintings galore, where the periphery is lined with miniature chapels, each unique in decoration and dedication, and the dim light trickling in through the stained-glass windows cast a mystical air over the building.

Unfortunately, it was far too dark for my photos to achieve any reasonable level of clarity, so I included only a couple particularly illustrative images.

Impeccable Columns. Yes, this matters.

Side pulpit? Someone stuck a window in my way, ruining the lighting.

The organ was truly admirable

The capital of the organ. Ornate, illuminated, and impossible to see in this photo.

The left aisle, facing the apse.

I made it to Gibert Jeune, where I bought four books (including Soumission by Michel Houllebecq, the newest controversial read). It turns out that notebooks are cheaper at FNAC or Monoprix, but Gibert Jeune has more style. I then wandered at random. I took the inverse of the expression "Go west, young man" and, as a young woman, I headed east. I stumbled upon the Pantheon (as a colossal monument, it is not something you "stumble upon" generally; there is a terrific hill that I was too lazy to climb), finally found the Musée de Cluny and the Moroccan restaurant right next door (tomorrow?) and, on my way home, even passed by the Sorbonne. I consider myself, therefore, quite the successful sightseer today. As I passed by the Senate, I took the image below. It's dark and I was taking it stealthily, since I am still not convinced that taking photos of heavily armed French military men on the job is socially acceptable (let alone legally permitted!), but an army truck drove straight up the street and halted, spitting out a handful of fresh gendarmes. Now here is my Paris war zone scene. Fox News promised me no-go zones and Iraq-like situations, so I guess this is what they meant. In one of the safest areas of Paris, where there is no threat in sight. Good thing I have my knives to protect me in this war-torn country.

Ground Zero: Paris. 

My mère d'accueil made a delicious dinner. I don't know what it was, and I don't have pictures, but it tasted fantastic. We started with a vegetable soup, perfect for the weather, and then had a marvelous main course. After much travail and Google-wizardry, I discovered that I ate boudin blanc, a bloodless sausage, with potatoes and apples (the latter of which provided an excellent alternative taste!). Finishing with a nice blue cheese and the cake from last night (and, of course, baguette the whole time) made for another perfect meal. Then I had to leave again, because I had serious business to attend to. We were meeting up for hot chocolate.

En route to cocoa. Because Paris streets are wide and straight. (dit: Why Paris navigation fails)

We met up at Café de Flore, a ridiculously expensive and yet elegant and historic café, the preferred hangout for heroes such as Sartre, Simon de Beauvoir, and Camus. That alone was perhaps worth the price to half of us, but I have never been so content to spend €7 on chocolat chaud. I can honestly say that it may have been the best hot chocolate of my life (note that the "may have been" excuses me from omissions of prior hot chocolate pilgrimages).

Of course, it starts with elegant presentation

And a beautiful cup

And we can pour it ourselves (2 helpings)

But that quickly becomes this :-(

This photo was going for the woman in the background but was a stealthy creeper-shot. She was one of the strangest-looking women I have seen in all my days here. I failed to capture it, but if you know the film Amélie, imagine the star combined with a corpse and a fashionista, and you have this high-style phantom of a woman. With VERY red lipstick.

So, I took the Métro home, and wished my dear brother a happy birthday (the privilege of being 8 hours ahead!), and now you are bored of my food pictures and I am, in my fatigue, slowly growing to resemble my corps-lady (see Figure Last). Bonne nuit!