Paris: Medieval and Corsican

It is true that one could spend many days in the Louvre and still not take in everything. However, according to web reviews of the Louvre, "People typically spend up to 1.5 hours here." An average of up to one and a half hours?

Neither the lack of many days nor the short attention span of the typical tourist stopped Shari or me from enjoying most of Monday, our last full day in Paris, exploring the three wings and five floors of the famous museum.

Opening time is nine in the morning. We were an eager twenty minutes early to queue up with a small crowd before the main entrance. In pictures, I never really understood the glass pyramid. In context, the grand glass-enclosed entrance centered within the three wings of the Renaissance style palace works very well.

Once inside the large entrance hall on -2 Floor, almost the entire crowd rushed upstairs. Perhaps they were the "up to 1.5 hours" set. Others lingered by the amenities and gift shop of the entrance hall. Shari and I went downstairs under the Sully wing and below -2 Floor. That basement is where one can see the medieval foundations of the fortress that Philip II Augustus had completed in 1202. Shari and I like medieval stuff.

We also like antiquities. We spent several hours in astonishment seeing ancient Sumerian, Egyptian, Assyrian, Near Eastern, Etruscan, Greek, and Roman art and artifacts. Somehow we missed the Islamic and the arts of Africa, Asia, Oceania and the Americas.

We did not miss Le Café Mollien, a delightful place for lunch. At least, it was delightful except for a clumsy gesture on my part that knocked over the glass mineral water bottle. It shattered on the bricks of the old Louvre fireplace by which we were sitting. The servers apologized to us as they swept up the broken glass.

Shari wondered if the disturbance related to an event from a prior life. Maybe there are ghosts in the Louvre. Maybe our visit or the old fireplace triggered a poltergeist.

Da Vinci's Mona Lisa in context

Refreshed and sated, we continued with a few more rooms of antiquities before ascending to the two upper floors that are stocked with paintings and other decorative arts: French, Italian, and Spanish. We skipped Great Britain/United States and the rooms with Northern European paintings were closed.

To be honest, we simply walked through crowds past many, many fine paintings. After several hours of looking at antiquities, the paintings were too much to take in.  Hence the advice that it takes many days to take in all of the Louvre.

Veronese's The Wedding Feast at Cana

But we did go inside the big room that featured the Mona Lisa. Shari remembers her previous Louvre visit when Da Vinci's portrait was just another painting on a wall. Now it has a wall to itself. The petite portrait is framed by a blank wall to permit excited crowds and tour groups to gather and take selfies without blocking access to other works.

As if an intentional contrast to the comparatively tiny 2½x1¾ foot smiling Giaconda, the opposite wall is taken up by a single gigantic oil painting, the 22x33 foot Wedding Feast at Cana by Veronese

Well, having seen and photographed the Mona Lisa, what else is there? It was time to leave the Louvre and rest.

Spritzes on the way

Restaurant L'Alivi

We got dressed for dinner at a Corsican restaurant in the Marais. Our hosts were Brigitte and Paul. Brigitte is Shari's step-sister. Paul is Corsican. The evening was only one of two opportunities for me to wear my dress coat and slacks. It was well worth packing the clothes.

Paul and Brigitte met us at our hotel. The Corsican restaurant was located in the Marais district, about a half mile away. Paris cafe culture being what it is, our walk was interrupted by stopping, probably randomly, at one of the sidewalk cafes that lined our pedestrian route. We had aperitifs: a spritz made with Apérol or another bitter, champagne or prosecco sparkling wine, and sparkling water.

It was dusk by the time we sat down for an outdoor table at Restaurant L'Alivi, named after the Corsican word for olive. Paul, who speaks no English, immediately got into a conversation with our waitress who was also Corsican. Both spoke the largely Italian-based language that is native to Corsica. Shari and Brigitte spoke in English. Paul and I could communicate a little in Spanish. The German couple sitting at the table next to us were increasingly amused at the polyglot of languages coming from our table.

Paul (Shari's "mon frère Zorba") and Tom

Brigitte, Shari & Paul

Actually, the Germans, who spoke English fluently, were finishing their meal when the four of us arrived and raised the decibel level. They had been a bit unimpressed by their restaurant experience, but they lingered to enjoy our enthusiasm over our plates of traditional Corsican cold cuts (thin slices of smoked wild boar and ham, cheeses and olives) and Paul's conversations with the waitress. We would bring the couple into the conversation occasionally, and, as the couple were making motions to leave, Paul bought them glasses of a traditional Corsican digestif, myrte — a red myrtle berry liqueur. They were smiling heartily as they left.

We were smiling heartily from our conversations, the wine, and having filled ourselves with cannelloni stuffed with Corsican cheese, my plate of shredded lamb with potatoes, and our own glasses of myrte.

As the snapshots taken by our telephones suggest, we were in high spirits after L'Alivi. Brigitte had us walk by the brightly lit Hôtel de Ville, the Paris City Hall, a great Parisian backdrop for our brightly lit foursome.