I stayed a week in Rueil Malmaison, which is where Napoleon lived once upon a time, and happily it began to snow not long after I got there. Days of snowy whiteness, cars buried under inches of that marvellous cold stuff. Wandering amongst it, I relished the thought that it was in Paris where first I saw snow. I was staying with a family of four, looking after two kids, aged 2 and 5. If I hadnt been in Paris I think I would have felt pretty lousy, as the family were a new sort altogether. The lady looked at me as though I was about to run off with her children or infect them with a tropical Australian disease. She made me disinfect everything I touched (did I look unclean?) and taught the children a few staple words such as 'Jessie, come!' That was really charming. After getting the kids ready for school and feeding them, I had the mornings to see Paris, which was very nice. On my first snow day I went to Chateau du Malmaison, which was Napoleon and Josephine's castle, where I trudged through the gardens and then trailed snow through the grand castle.
Notre Dame shone in the sun, and birds flew in great masses from the topmost arches, the clap of their wings almost drowning out the crowd. Inside, Esmerelda was dancing down the aisle, and Quasimodo peered out from the tower above. Paris at Christmas time was surreal. The Champs Elysees was strewn in lights and Noel music played all around me. Sitting in a little cafe by the Opera I watched the people pass, navigating the icy ground with care, the women in heels clutching at anything to stop them from falling. I went shopping in Gallery Lafayette and bought some nice boots. In Chanel I pretended I was wealthy enough to contemplate the dresses that were lovelier than words, though I dont think the salespeople believed me.
I had to pick the kids up from school in the afternoons, and as Paris was clogged with rail strikes, I had to be careful about venturing far for long, but on Saturday I had a day off, so could idle the hours away, and getting the bus in the morning, I got a little thrill when I looked out the bus window and saw the Eiffel Tower, as if it were simply some unobtrusive land mark.
In the Louvre you would think the Mona Lisa (de la Jaconde) was the only painting in the place, as signs shout its direction the moment you step inside, and it's given not only a glass covering but a few barriers and guards stationed, watching the tourists' every move. I wished I knew something about art so that I could have capably devoured the images, but had to be content with mere interest, which I had plenty of.
There was also the Arc de Triomphe, pretty French men everywhere, and the Seine flowing through it all. I walked along it, pain au chocolat in hand, shivering but content. I only saw the smallest glimpse of Paris in my week there, but it was a nice introduction and I cant wait to see it again.