Day 2

Up early. Ish. Where did the time go? Got to Gare St Lazare by 11:00, and had to wait an hour-ish or so for the train out to Vernon. From there, a mad dash to the navettes (shuttles) to find a seat for the ride to Giverny. Didn't get a seat either way, but at least I got on. The funny thing is that the entry to Claude Monet's gardens and home was only about 9 euro. The total for the train and navette was about 32 euro! Also, I was exceedingly glad that I had bought my ticket online the night before, as the line in Giverny was almost as bad as Disneyland in the summer.

Giverny was beautiful. The sun was bright, but what did I care, shielded by my large black hat? Sure , I got some amused stares, but some of those same hatless beings were not hatless at the end of the day. Wandered around the shady second path around the lake. Amazing that Monet not just painted the gardens, but he shaped, built, and cultivated them. I found a shady bench to share with a tanned French couple, that reclined comfortably against each other. From my perch, I had an amusing view of the swarming tourists eager to have someone take their picture from the delightful point on the bridge. I had to ruefully laugh as I saw a multitude of solo girls and women taking self portraits with their cell phones, aiming to get that most flattering view from just above their heads, and slightly to the side. The large burdock leaves looked like they could have come straight out of Hans Christian Anderson's Happy Family.

I got out my ipad, and started to record my thoughts. Unfortunately, I accidentally deleted all the astoundingly deep thoughts I typed in. However, I must have looked impressive. I know, because a woman asked to take my picture. A frowsy, middle-aged woman, with a large camera, and unfortunate shorts. She walked past, stopped, then walked back. "May I take your picture?" Curious smile from me. "You just look so beautiful, writing there." I could feel the French couple's amused smiles, but who was I to contradict such warm admiration. I gave my assent, and tried not to be too self-conscious as she snapped a few shots. I almost asked he to email one to me, but restrained myself. Why? Because I'm silly. So, I took my own photo.

The pond really is a thing of beauty. The amazing thing is that Monet was not only a masterful painter, he was also a talented gardener, and made the gardens what they were. Also astounding is the fact that he painted what he saw. His vision was severely impaired, but he was able to translate that deficit into canvases of beauty.

The garden was in furious bloom, especially the enormous peonies. The bees were buzzing is maddened ecstasy among the jasmine. The birds were chirping to each other, maybe about the ridiculous tourists with their cameras, of both the humongous and cellular variety.

I got away from the main contingent of tourists, and felt like the first Mrs. Wilcox from "Howard's End" as she wended her way through the garden, with the foliage brushing my body as I walked by.

I'm not generally a fan of pastels, but I loved the interior of the house nonetheless. The softly bright colors of the houses were just charming, especially the yellow dining room. Seems like a wonderfully cheerful place to host a dinner party.

I wonder what Monet would have thought of all the hullabaloo. Would he have enjoyed the fame. Or would he have hated the fuss and noise.

I wandered around the rest of the village for just a bit, and reveled in the wildflower field ... A beautifully unkempt place where poppies and small lavender flowers just conquered the tall grasses. A wonderful place to have a private rendezvous, if only one could ignore the snap happy tourists.

Got back the the navette loading area a bit earlier than I had originally planned, and was glad of it, as the queue was getting alarmingly long. Luckily, I got on in good time, and even had a makeshift seat on the back of a ledge. Back at the train station, I got a seat in partial shade, but the sun on my feet was so harsh that I soon gave it up to an elderly lady, and went to stand in the shade. On this topic, I'd like to commend the handsome twenty-something in the tweed jacket that searched around for my lip balm cap on the metro the other day. To top it off, he readily gave up his seat on the train to an elderly lady. Clearly he was acting according to habit, and made his handsome face even more attractive, than even the best cut suit or expensive shoes. Well, to be honest, he also had both of the latter, but I did wonder why the tweed jacket, as the weather was quite warm.

I spent the return train ride worrying that Alex would beat me to the apartment. I did try searching for wifi along the way, but without success. As it turns out, I needn't have worried. Much. I beat him to the apartment by about five minutes. After settling in and getting reacquainted, we went for a walk. East along the Seine, past the Fascinating facade of the Arabic Institute, then north to Marais. Must explore more of the area, especially window shopping along the quieter boutique areas near the Seine. I remember being quite charmed by the streets as I walked to Mimi's place for our potluck dinner that one night. The way we talked and laughed about our relationships made it feel like a French version of Sex and the City.

Alex and I wandered through more of the noisy, and questionably hip, area of Marais. Lots of clubs and bars, with patrons smoking on the narrow sidewalks. I should be over it, but I am generally so surprised at the amount of smoking I encounter outside of California. I would think that people would have much better things to do with their money, not the mention their health. I have no problem supporting the tax hike on cigarettes that's currently in the works in California.

Finally decided to have dinner at an Indian cafe, Le Tiffin, and I had my first eggplant dish since Istanbul. I also had some dhal balls. Apparently they are what poor people eat, but I enjoyed them immensely nonetheless.

Lastly, I must apologize for all the weird formatting. I simply can't seem to copy or paste, or even link from this iPad. Maybe I'll have to ask Jana for a tutorial on this when I get back? Same goes for YouTube clips that don't seem to work.