Tuesday, October 13, 2015

Triumphal arch.

Arc de Triomphe
Built between 1806 and 1836 (with a small pause in the middle of construction due to the abdication of Napoleon) to honour those who fought for France,
in particular those who fought in the Napoleonic wars.

It has also been the final resting place of The Unknown Soldier since the 1920's.

You need a ticket to enter, or if you've purchased a Paris Pass the entry will be included.

Lots of stairs in a tight curving staircase, but there is a lift for those who can't manage.

The view is worth the climb.

And traffic was surprisingly sparse,

And the annoying blurred effect in all the photos (including those of the Musée d'Orsay in the last post, was my fingerprint on the lens.  Only took hubby a second to fix it after I put up with it for 2 days before complaining that I couldn't figure out my new camera)

Arc de Triomphe, Paris - June 2015

Saturday, October 3, 2015

Musée d'Orsay

What do you do with a train station you don't use any more?
Why turn it into an art gallery and museum of course!

And turn the clock into an unforgettable view.

It's the long weekend here in Australia, and the weather is fine.
Which means that I will be inside painting.

Musée d'Orsay, Paris - June 2015

Thursday, September 24, 2015

A pleasant afternoon always involves coffee, chocolate and lèche-vitrines.

After the somberness of the Conciergerie a strong coffee was needed.

And perhaps a chocolate fix.

What better place than Le Procope, providing good coffee and literary conversation since 1686.

An extremely brief history and a gander at great food to be found here.

Feeling restored, it was time to head off the beaten track.

And I spied a pair of shoes that I simply must have.

Afterwards a sit on the banks of The Seine to let all that coffee and chocolate settle.

Paris - June 2015

Tuesday, September 8, 2015

Last words of a tragic Queen.

Below is the English translation of a letter written on 16th October 1793, from Marie Antoinette to her sister in law Madame Elisabeth, a few hours before her execution.

Marie Antoinette spent her last few months confined within these walls at the Conciergerie.

On her last day on earth she wrote a heart rending letter to her sister in law who was imprisoned in Temple Tower along with Marie's two children.   She asks Elisabeth not to let her son attempt to avenge his parents deaths (unknown to Marie, her son Louis had already been separated from his aunt and his sister and was being kept elsewhere in the tower).

16th October, 4.30 A.M.

It is to you, my sister, that I write for the last time. I have just been condemned, not to a shameful death, for such is only for cri
minals, but to go and rejoin your brother. Innocent like him, I hope to show the same firmness in my last moments. I am calm, as one is when one's conscience reproaches one with nothing. I feel profound sorrow in leaving my poor children: you know that I only lived for them and for you, my good and tender sister. You who out of love have sacrificed everything to be with us, in what a position do I leave you! I have learned from the proceedings at my trial that my daughter was separated from you. Alas! poor child; I do not venture to write to her; she would not receive my letter. I do not even know whether this will reach you. Do you receive my blessing for both of them. I hope that one day when they are older they may be able to rejoin you, and to enjoy to the full your tender care. Let them both think of the lesson which I have never ceased to impress upon them, that the principles and the exact performance of their duties are the chief foundation of life; and then mutual affection and confidence in one another will constitute its happiness. Let my daughter feel that at her age she ought always to aid her brother by the advice which her greater
experience and her affection may inspire her to give him. And let my son in his turn render to his sister all the care and all the services which affection can inspire. Let them, in short, both feel that, in whatever positions they may be placed, they will never be truly happy but through their union. Let 
them follow our example. In our own misfortunes how much comfort has our affection for one another afforded us! And, in times of happiness, we have enjoyed that doubly from being able to share it with a friend; and where can one find friends more tender and more united than in one's own family? Let my son never forget the last words of his father, which I repeat emphatically; let him never seek to avenge our deaths.

I have to speak to you of one thing which is very painful to my heart, I know how much pain the child must have caused you. Forgive him, my dear sister; think of his age, and how easy it is to make a child say whatever one wishes, especially when he does not understand it. It will come to pass one day, I hope, that he will better feel the value of your kindness and of your tender affection for both of them. It remains to confide to you my last thoughts. I should have wished to write them at th
e beginning of my trial; but, besides that they did not leave me any means of writing, events have passed so rapidly that I really have not had time.

I die in the Catholic Apostolic and Roman religion, that of my fathers, that in which I was brought up, and which I have always professed. Having no spiritual consolation to look for, not even knowing whether there are still in this place any priests of that religion (and indeed the place where I am would expose them to too much danger if they were to enter it but once), I sincerely implore pardon of God for all the faults which I may have committed during my life. I trust that, in His goodness, He will mercifully accept my last prayers, as well as those which I have for a long time addressed to Him, to receive my soul into His mercy. I beg pardon of all whom I know, and especially of you, my sister, for all the vexations which, without intending it, I may have caused you. I pardon all my enemies the evils that they have done me. I bid farewell to my aunts and to all my brothers and sisters. I had friends. The idea of being forever separated from them and from all their troubles is one of the greatest sorrows that I suffer in dying. Let them at least know that to my latest moment I thought of them.

Farewell, my good and tender sister. May this letter reach you. Think always of me; I embrace you with all my heart, as I do my poor dear children. My God, how heart-rending it is to leave them forever! Farewell! farewell! I must now occupy myself with my spiritual duties, as I am not free in my actions. Perhaps they will bring me a priest; but I here protest that I will not say a word to him, but that I will treat him as a total stranger. 
Translation source from Tea at Trianon. 
Site of Marie Antoinette's cell which was later converted to a chapel.

Prisoner's courtyard which she would have seen from her cell window.

Recreation of Marie Antoinette's cell, next to where the original cell is located.

The letter never made it to Madame Elisabeth.

Marie's husband, Louis XVI had already been executed on the 21st January, Marie would be executed a few hours after writing this letter in October.

Her son Louis would later die of tuberculosis in prison.
Elisabeth was transferred to the Conciergerie on 9th May 1794 and executed the following day.

Marie's daughter, Princess Marie Therese, was the only member of the immediate family to survive The Terror.
She died in Austria in 1851.

The Conciergerie, Paris - June 2015.

Thursday, September 3, 2015

Best darn bookshop on the planet.

After our visit to Notre Dame we went for a stroll.

Looking for a special place.

We promenaded along the river bank.

Admired views and perused book and art stalls,

but where was the special place?

Found it!

I know it's hard to tell by the lopsided uncomfortable trying-to-hide-braces smile,
but I was a very happy lass indeed. (and yes I did leave with an armful of books)

Please click on below link to get a history of this wonderful bookshop (and I dare you not to succumb to the magic)

Saturday, August 29, 2015

Legends of Our Lady

Come, let us go to a heavenly place
A place ancient, hallowed and wise

Where one can hear the whispered stories of times long past

And marvel at miracles divine.

Where one can witness the colour of foliage and fashion
and perhaps hear a Gothic Romance,

Listen to the wisdom of the beasts of stone

And watch the saintly trio dance.

Let us talk of Kings, Queens and Emperors
Of revolution, hunchbacks and a gypsy girl's charm

Come, let us sit on the banks of the River Seine

 and hear the bells of Notre Dame.

For Di xxxx

Notre Dame de Paris - Paris, June 2015

First 3 photos taken by hubby, flower shots by daughter, naff poem by Debs.


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