Rhone Day 3: The Van Gogh

The Van Gogh was a delightful small river boat from the Croisi Europe line that initiated river cruises. We were 90 passengers, less than half what is on a Viking Longboat.

There are lots of low bridges in Lyon and we were quickly instructed to duck at the call, "Low bridge!"

There were also lots of locks--a dozen each direction since we returned to Lyon at the end of our cruise. They took us past hydroelectric dams. 

We were a music crowd, and the joy of traveling with Minnesota Orchestra is the recitals on board every evening before dinner. Our musicians were Jon Kimur Parker and his wife violinist Aloysia Friedman.

Jackie, as he likes to be called, is an amazing pianist who used to be the summer artistic director for the symphony. I first remember him from the fabulous four piano concerts they have given. That's not 4-hand piano (two people playing one piano), but four artists on four grand pianos all playing together. Aloysia is the founder of the Orcas Island Chamber Music Festival in the San Juan Islands of NW Washington State. Sounds like a place we HAVE to visit.

Jackie's ninety-year-old mother was along on this trip. She taught piano along with music history and music theory. Sounds like quite a home to grow up in. Another son is a concert pianist, and her daughter puts together portfolios for new musicians. In her retirement she is translating all the Jane Austin novels into Japanese.

This first evening was only a teaser for what was to come.

*Johannes Brahms – Scherzo from F-A-E Sonata (to complement hearing the Brahms’ 3^rd Symphony in Paris)

*Edward Elgar – Salut D’Amour (to complement hearing Elgar’s Sea Pictures in Paris)

The dinner table was aglitter each evening with glasses for red wine, glasses for white, and glasses for water. (Only one water glass per person although both still (silver cap) and sparkling (gold cap) were on the table.

As I recall the starter the first night was a lovely paté.

This was the pork entreé although I often took the fish. Fabulous every time. My husband is not a fan of fish so this was my chance.

And then there was desert.

 Tomorrow we will visit another winery.

Rhone Day 3: Hotel and Winery

In Paris we stayed at the Crowne Plaza Republique Hotel with its statue of Marianne, the symbol of the French Revolution.

This inner courtyard made it feel like we weren't really in the middle of all the confusion of a big city, but the metro was only a few steps away.

The Rhone River does NOT pass through Paris. It was a five hour drive to Lyon where we would meet our ship. On the way we stopped for lunch and a wine tasting in the small French town of Mercurey.

Chateau de Garnerot is a small family owned winery. The owner, Caroline Fyot, was a delight and explained her philosophy of wine-making. I can't say I understood it, but I was impressed.

We heard over and over of the importance of terroir--the nature of the land--to the flavor of the grapes.

This estate has been here for a few hundred years although Caroline is a newcomer out of the insurance industry.

It was a charming place, and lunch was delightful, especially the wonderful cheese course before the sweet and the perfect pairing of their wines with the different cheeses.

In the late afternoon we arrived in Lyon at the ship that would be our home for the next week.

Rhone Day 2: Sainte-Chapell

Sainte-Chapell is in the same 13th-c complex as the Consiergerie and modern courts. It was built on the orders of the 13th-c King Louis IX (Saint Louis) to house the relics of "the crown of thorns" and piece of "the true cross" which he brought back with him from the Crusades. It is currently undergoing renovations as you can see by the screened portion to the right and at the base.

Even with our reservation we had nearly a half-hour wait.

The undercroft was once the chapel for palace staff. Now it's a gift shop where I found some great Christmas presents. (Sorry, everyone. You'll have to wait.)

The soaring High Gothic chapel above has walls that are almost entirely of stained glass.

The refurbishing work area is covered, not with tarps and scaffolding, but mirrors, reflecting the beauty of the chapel, but doubling images and throwing off the symmetry. (You can see that most clearly in the ceiling--painted as it would have been in the 13th century.)

From the balcony at the west end you can look back into the chapel.

Bible stories like this Noah's ark are carved into the door frame,

King Louis had his own seating alcove.

Another opposite was for the queen and the queen mother.

Blue is my favorite color, and I could not get enough of this place. We listened to the audio tour describing every window.

When we arrived, I saw a sign with no words, only symbols. I thought it meant no pictures, but everyone was taking pictures, so I figured I must have misunderstood and the sign referred to flash pictures. I found out later it really did mean no pictures, but I had already taken these. I have no idea why pictures were not allowed or why the rule was not enforced. (Picture is the west end where restoration is complete. No mirrors.)

We hadn't really stopped to eat properly today. Too much to see and do. We got back to our hotel exhausted but with time for a short rest before meeting Jack and Erica for dinner at a wonderful hole-in-the-wall wine bar that Erica "the travel agent" had found. We shared several tapas and a bottle of red chosen specifically by the waiter to go with what we were eating. I felt like part of the family as we heard all about Normandy. I was Erika's Pioneer Girls leader many years ago when we lived in Indy. She and her sister helped serve at my 50th birthday dinner, prepared by my daughter who was in culinary school at the time. It was so much fun to spend time with Erica now as an adult.

I was early to bed since I was jet-lagged and we had to catch the bus to Lyon with our tour group at 7:30 the next morning to meet our ship. Ingrid and Jack took the metro to Sacre Coeur on Montmartre, climbed nearly 200 steps and arrived in time to hear the sisters sing compline. Erica? She took off for a Liverpool soccer match. She's a big fan.

Rhone Day 2: Conciergerie

We didn't have any trouble finding the Conciergerie. We'd been by it twice while we were trying to find Notre Dame. It's a medieval palace used as a court and prison from 1380 to 1914, including the French Revolution. (Check out the picture on the website.) Marie Antoinette was imprisoned here.

It has a wonderful clock tower.

Inside was a thoroughly medieval hall used for trials during the Revolution.

They had a nifty device that allowed us to see what it would have once looked like, colorfully painted and furnished. We could touch various items to get more information.

Here Ingrid is standing practically in one of the four massive fireplaces in the corners of the kitchen when food was cooked for those in the hall.

The Revolution prison part where Marie Antoinette was confined before her execution was too tight and crowded to get good pictures. (I didn't find any on the website either. They must have found it as difficult as I did to get a good shot.)

There's a nice gift shop where I bought a new Blessing Book for a coming year (blank book to record things I'm thankful for). It has a lovely medieval-looking cover.

Last stop: Sainte-Chapell

Rhone Day 2: Notre Dame

Wednesday we were on our own to explore Paris. The tour organizers sent us information ahead of time and warned us that popular places needed a reservation or we might end up waiting in line for hours.

Ingrid and I started off early. She had been in Paris for a few days with her husband and grown daughter. (Jack and Erica had left for Normandy on Monday.) Ingrid thought she had figured out the metro although she admitted that Erica had been their guide. We both had digital maps in our phones. We should be fine, right? Uh... The one thing I really wanted to see was Notre Dame. We had to change trains for that. 

The station where we changed was a huge labyrinth. Signs saying "Sortie" pointed every direction, but which exit did that sign point to? We didn't recognize the names of any of the streets above ground, and none of the signs said, "Notre Dame this way." When I was navigating Seoul while my daughter lived there, I had only to look puzzled and someone offered help. Not so in Paris. We wandered probably ten or fifteen minutes before we managed to stop one of the people rushing past to catch the next train. He didn't speak English, but someone overheard us asking and took pity.

We got the right train.

Ïle de la Cité was the first stop. I could see the new spire, and we headed in that direction. We thought.  Somehow we must have gotten turned around because we ended up circling the entire Palais de Justice before we got headed in the right direction. 

By the time we got there, we had missed our reserved entry time. Fortunately it was early enough that there was no line to speak of to get in. Whew!

I'm sure you shared my horror five years ago when the roof collapsed, bringing down the spire of the cathedral completed in 1345 after 200 years of work. It has been beautifully restored. The stone gleams white, cleansed of centuries of candle smoke as well as fire damage.

But in the Middle Ages the stone WASN'T white. It was brightly painted. In the restoration they left the nave white as we are used to seeing it, but painted the chapels around the apse as they would have been originally. Very striking.

Around the choir are reliefs of Bible stories like this one of the last supper and Gethsemane.

Ingrid works at St. Vincent's hospital in Indy. We took some time to just sit in the chapel of St. Vincent de Paul, the 17th-c French priest known for his service to the poor.

When we left, the staff pointed us to the restrooms down some steps at one side of the place. Problem: a chain blocked access.  Fortunately, Paris has theses handy dandy cubicles along the street. When the door shuts after use, it goes into a cleaning mode and won't open until it finishes.

After a snack on a bench at the side of the cathedral, we retraced out steps to the 

Conciergerie.

Rhone Day 1: Paris

 It may conflict with concert season at home, but Paris is beautiful in April.

After exploring the magnificent Palais Garnier, we wandered the streets of Paris with our local guide. Wisteria everywhere.

Ernest Hemingway moved into this upper floor apartment in 1926 when he left his wife for Pauline Pfeiffer.

Saint-Surplice was the first of many beautiful churches we saw on this trip.

I would have loved to hear an organ concert there.

One of the highlights of the trip was the people. We were all supporters of public radio and lovers of classical music. That first evening we attended a concert at the Philharmonie, an ultra modern building designed by Jean Nouvel, who also designed the Guthrie Theater in Minneapolis. This one reminded me of a crumpled metallic balloon.

I was not a fan of the weird exterior of either building, but I loved the sweeping balconies inside.

And the music was wonderful, especially the mezzo-soprano and her haunting encore.

    Orchestre national d'île-de-France

    Ainārs Rubiķis, conductor

    Bella Adamova, mezzo-soprano

 

    Bedrich Smetana: The Moldau, from Ma Vlast (My Country)

    Edward Elgar: Sea Pictures, Op. 37

    Johannes Brahms: Symphony No. 3 in F Major

 

    Exquisite Encore: Bella Adamova sang an unaccompanied lullaby.

    Melissa Ousley from MPR, who accompanied us says, "If you'd like to hear it again, here's a link     from her Instagram account: (Different performance. Same song.)         https://www.instagram.com/reel/DVwBzmwDHb_/

The exterior of the building had a whole new tone when we left. I'm still not a fan, but it was definitely interesting.

Tomorrow is a free day to wander Paris and we certainly took advantage of it.

Rhone Day 1: Palais Garnier, Paris Opera

Four years ago in October my husband and I cruised the Danube River with MPR and Minnesota Orchestra. It was the most fabulous civilized vacation we have ever experienced. ("Civilized" means not competing with hiking in national parks or driving to Alaska.) Two years ago when the same group cruised the Seine, we didn't go because the April-in-Paris timing conflicted with spring band concerts. When this MPR/MSO Rhone River Cruise again conflicted with Steve's concert band, I told him, "Tough cookie! I'm going anyway." I invited my dear friend, Ingrid, to join me. It took a while to convince her since Ingrid is still a practicing physician. ("Ingrid the internist from Indianapolis, Indiana," she says.) She had to touch base with her physician's assistant daily, but she made it work.

We met up in Paris the day after Easter. The architecture of the Paris airport hinted at the importance of visual spaces here.

The very first night we sat across from two ladies from my husband's home town at the orientation dinner. They had had my father-in-law as a teacher when he first came to town in the 1950s. He retired after 37 years of teaching music there and spent the next 13 years as chairman of the school board, resigning weeks before his death in 2004. Sometimes the school board met in his hospital room those last few years. The high school performing arts center is now named for him. Karen told me, "I can't wait to tell my friends we had dinner with Richard G. Hardy's daughter-in-law!"

This was a musical group, and the next day's Paris tour began with the Palais Garnier, the Paris Opera House, now used primarily for ballet. I was here once before while renovations were going on, and what we saw was a stunning display of costumes in the basement corridors. Renovations are still going on (or maybe it's again?) so this time we came in through the subscribers' entrance. 

The building was designed by Charles Garnier and built between 1861 and 1875 under Emperor Napoleon III who tore down much of Paris to build his grand imperial city. Architects don't normally "sign" their work, but Garnier worked his name and the dates of construction into this motive at the top of the entry hall.

Garnier's idea was to take us from the "cave" of an entry up the stairs

into ever-expanding spaces.

According to our guide, subscribers paid for a box and could attend performance three times a week. The opera didn't change that often. (One subscriber complained of having seen the same opera fifteen or twenty times in a season.) That didn't matter all that much since the main point of going to the opera was to be seen. Hence all the balconies.

Being seen at the opera is still a thing. I guess the Netflix rom-com Emily in Paris has an episode where Emily goes to the opera in a black dress. We saw dozens of girls in black dresses being photographed for their social media accounts.

Our tour took us into the 1,979-seat auditorium.

I've always wondered why old novels have characters carrying on conversations, flirting and spying on other boxes instead of watching the show. I guess if you've already seen the opera half a dozen times or more, the music is only background noise to what you really want to do in those deep subscriber boxes. 

This old librarian was excited for a glimpse at the archives with all the musical scores that have been performed there. Some are hand written.

The opera house could not be heated because of fire risk, so people gathered in small foyers to warm up during intermissions. Except Garnier designed his foyer in the style of Versailles with fireplaces at either end.

The inner wall of the foyer alternates between wide doorways and mirrors. Ingrid and I took a picture in one of the mirrors.

Years ago when we visited Versailles, it was hard to appreciate the beauty. I felt sick to my stomach because all I could think of was the oppression that built it and led to the horrors of the French Revolution. I'm not sure Napoleon III was that much better (he is hated by the French), but at least this opulence didn't lead to the guillotine.

The Palais Garnier is famous today for Phantom of the Opera. Yes, there is water under the building, but more like a sewer than a lake. And yes, a chandelier (or at least, part of one) did fall and kill someone. You can read more here.

There was much more to our fist day in Paris, so see my next post.