Paris, day 3

After my longer than usual blog post (words from a baby illustrator) I’ve had a longer that usual blogging silence. At long last here is the final instalment of my Paris diary series.

Day three was our final day, and after we checked out we had our last good cup of coffee in Paris (the coffee in the d’Orsay is terrible). I also had a pain au lait (milk bread), which I need to learn how to make as they are delicious. We knew Thursday was going to be the rainiest day, so we saved the indoors-y things to the end of the trip

The Louvre is a very good place to visit on your last day as they allow you to check your suitcase into the cloakroom for free, which is unbelievably handy. I’ve been to the Lourve once before, but it was January and practically snowing so I was able to walk straight in. This time the queue extended right around the famous pyramid, I can’t imagine what it’s like in the height of summer.

After depositing our luggage we went for a wander and followed the signs to the Mona Lisa and the Venus De Milo. I particularly enjoyed it when an american tourist commented on her ‘perkiness’.

We went to the little Paul cart in the Tuileries for lunch, which is when I realised that I have left my jacket and umbrella in my suitcase. We took in in turns huddling under my boyfriend’s coat for warmth, then crossed the bridge to the d’Orsay as a shuffling four legged coat person.

The d’Orsay is entirely different in feel to the Louvre. The Louvre is vast and you’re never sure what part of the building you’re actually in; if there wasn’t signs you’d probably never get out. The d’Orsay has a few sneaky hidden bits, but for the most part you can tell where you and all the various sections of the museum are.

You’re not allowed to take photos in the d’Orsay, which is probably to make it feel less touristy and more ‘serious art museum’. I respected that for the most part and only took four sneaky photos.I loved the colours in these pieces by Gogan (above) and Van Gogh (below). It was great to see this painting by  Toulouse-Lautrec in the flesh, as I’ve loved it for years. Mostly because I’m convinced that I look identical to the woman on the left.

Shortly after our feet were ready to fall off it was time to go. We picked up our bags and got the Metro from inside the Lourve to the Gard du Nord. My finally taste of Paris was the tarte au framboise I bought from Paul in the station.


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