Saturday was cheese lesson number 1 as we met up with Gilles at the Port-Royal market and carefully chose with his help and the help of the owner of the stall, a few cheeses. It was very hard as she has over 180 different sorts of cheese! But we settled on some delicious varieties including a fresh goat's cheese and some local Parisian brie. We also bought some lovely fresh vegetables and some dried fruit. It was great fun and a cultural event in itself even though the weather has turned very cold again and it was snowing!
Hugh had expressed an unusual desire to visit the Picasso Museum, which unfortunately is closed until the summer - whoops I should have checked the Internet. Ironically the collection is now showing at the Art Gallery of NSW! However I was quite happy as there was a museum dedicated to 18th century furniture and paintings nearby called Cognacq-Jay to visit. Hugh deserves a husband of the week award as he doesn't much enjoy aristocrats and their white skin, endless china and numerous delicate side-tables. He only sighed and muttered a few times in a mournful way! However I thought it was all fascinating, particularly a lovely picture by Greuze of a young girl with a darling King Charles spaniel just like our dear departed dog Eddy.
That night we rugged ourselves up, took some of our cheese cache and wine and went to play a great game called Mafia with some of our Institute buddies. It was a hilarious evening (perhaps in part due to the wine consumed) as people are allocated either to be townspeople or the mafia and you have guess who is who and shoot them before they shoot you. It helps to have a poker face and to be able to lie well - both attributes which are way out of my league! Kate (the gorgeous hostess) has lovely underfloor heating so I had to spend 10 minutes in the bathroom taking off many of many layers of jumpers, scarves and tights before I could compete properly.
On Sunday we slept in for some reason! But dedicated to the cause of history and to the acquisition of culture, we hiked out on the metro through the snow and cold to the Basilica of St. Denis - sort of the Westminster Abbey of Paris, where most of the French Kings and Queens are buried in elaborate tombs or mausoleums. It was fascinating but freezing. The Basilica was built in the 12th century and has some amazing stone carvings from the middle ages. Apparently it was a royal tradition to have naked sculptures of your dead self and wife made on one level and then on top of your tomb have yourself carved in all your finery. Quite disturbing I must say. Perhaps the most haunting thing was the memorial of the dead little son of King Louis the XVI and Marie-Antoinette and a glass casket containing his heart! After another wonderful meal in a restaurant across the square we dragged ourselves home to digest it. However for the next few days it will be a necessary period of austerity with lots of vegetable soup and no cheese, as we are going to fancy restaurant number 1 on Thursday and need to make room in our stomachs for the feast!
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