Day 51: A Night at the Museum
- Marlena Skrabak
- Jul 29, 2019
- 4 min read
Updated: Aug 21, 2019
Two changes to breakfast this morning. One is that I decided to also have a cup of tea after my several many cups of coffee. I know, scandalous. Second is that the "host mom" left Anna and I each a slice of a this sort of pound cake that was buttery, a warm yellow on the inside and a golden brown on the outside. I enjoyed this deviation from my routine.
Once again, I had a lot of writing to do so I dove right in and just kept on writing. The past few days needed to be documented. Since I am constantly aware of how quickly the entertaining little details can fly out of my head, I wanted to make sure I could get it all down on my figurative piece of paper, or as people these days call it, a computer screen.
My "host dad" even commented on my typing abilities. Apparently I was really going for it this morning.
Unfortunately, I could tell that Vertigo was not done having her fun yet with me as my head started spinning as the day progressed. A little Advil ended up being necessary.
Deciding we needed to get out, Anna and I made our way to this thrift shop called Chinemachine close to the metro stop Abbesses, at the Butte de Montmartre. I was not blown away by the selection. Nothing worth opening my wallet for. We decided to move on. By move on I mean walk for an hour to get to friends in the Marais. We very easily could have taken the metro, but we knew that our days and hours were and are dwindling in this town. By metro we would be missing the magic of the evening. So we did like we always do and walked.
Traversing through now familiar streets, the tables started to turn. I felt that it would now be stranger for this not to be my reality than for this to be my reality. This city was no longer a dot on a map for me but a living breathing entity that I felt connected to. My existence this summer has been these streets, these buildings, this way of life that surrounded me as I made my way to the Marais.
Some hugs and a quick respite with some friends at La Verre Luisant, we decided to keep on moving through this vibrant area. We had one shared thought in our minds...FOOOOOOD. Saying that we wanted to come back to this place from the first time we tried it seven weeks ago, we walked into familiar Miznon with utter contentment. Good food awaited us and that is all that mattered. We shared an artichoke between us with each enjoying their individual pita. I had to go for the potato-filled one again. It rocked my world all that time ago, and it held true to its reputation this time as well. We doused our food with tahini, red tomato dressing, olive oil and sliced shishito peppers. My brain was having a field day computing all the flavors that my tongue was experiencing.
One other thing that I realize I had not had since I have been here was a Nutella crêpe...Yes, I know, despicable. But I was getting my fix now and that is what counts.
Creamy Nutella slid down my throat as Anna and I made our way over to our next destination, the Palais de Tokyo. Open from noon until midnight, we wanted to explore the contemporary art museum at night. I cannot say that it's something I have had the opportunity to do, ever.
Walking again for around an hour, this trek was a little more circuitous. The Tour de France was celebrating the winner from Colombia (woot woot) and the streets were packed with people and routes were closed off to accommodate the parade-like demonstrations. Anna and I were pushed around in crowds and almost got stuck in the Jardin des Tuileries, having a hard time figuring how to get out. On this long walk to the museum, the most memorable statement was a few jokes that Anna's dad says on the regular. Out of respect for the life of these jokes and their continual usage, I will not elaborate on them here. Just know that one consists of a pig, the other of a potato, and the last of several penguins. For the penguins there is also a red convertible involved and some snazzy glasses...I hope you get the picture.
Making it to the Palais de Tokyo, the outside was taken over by skaters and one asked me for a cigarette to which I responded that I don't have any. I am pretty sure he looked quite incredulous. I found it slightly funny.
Heading inside, we found it enthralling and disturbing at the same time. I have never wanted to be doing art more in my life than I had in those moments. I wanted to create what I was feeling and let others know about it. One of my favorites was towards the beginning by an artist named Farrokh Mahdavi who painted this pink distorted faces all over the ground on which I could walk over.
The coolest part about this museum was that a lot of the art was done directly on the walls which meant the artists had to BE there.
Heading out around 23h00, we walked home with the sparkle of the Eiffel Tower in the background, making our way towards Pont Alexandre III which leads right to the Esplanade des Invalides, close to our little apartment that will no longer be "home" in just a few short days.
Just to add, on this walk home we acted like utter idiots and there is now a very valuable video with baby croc content...
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