Those of you from Las Cruces won't be surprised that I haven't posted for the past couple of days when you hear that the Rundells are with us. We've been too busy talking to write anything. Dick Rundell is my best friend in the world. I met Dick my first year of teaching at a meeting where we started talking and never stopped. We have been known to go to breakfast and sit and talk until it was time to order lunch. One day we started conversation at breakfast in San Antonio, drove to the airport, flew to El Paso, drove home to Las Cruces, and sat in the car in the driveway and talked for another hour. We couldn't hardly remember ever getting on a plane. Over the years Evelyn and Jeanne have become almost as close as Dick and me, so we all have a lot to talk about.
I met them on the Metro stairs on Saturday afternoon. They had been in Vienna for a week and Munich for two days, so they were a little tired when they got here. We spent most of the evening in a restaurant eating steak and fries. When you're down nothing beats beef for dinner.
On Sunday morning we went to St Sulpice, attended high mass, and heard Daniel Roth play the great organ. After mass he played a 40-minute recital, which was extraordinary—Frescobaldi, Froberger, and, of course, Bach. Afterwards we had roast chicken and new potatoes in our apartment. Dick took a nap, but Jeanne and Evelyn and I went for a walk along the Seine, past Notre Dame to the Île St. Louis, around and back again. For supper we went to a sidewalk boulangerie for an eclair and hot chocolate. The chocolate was about the consistency of Jello pudding, and we found that you can have too much of a good thing. We're not sure if we slept that night or if we were all just in diabetic comas.
Monday we got up early (for us) and got in line at the Eiffel Tower. None of us had ever taken the time to go up in it before. It was a wonderful experience, and worth the time and money. It helped that we were there early—the lines moved quickly and we were at the top within about half an hour of getting there. You can't do that at Pirates of the Caribbean.
The views, of course, were spectacular.
For lunch Dick and Jeanne took us to the restaurant atop the Pompidou Centre—more gorgeous views. Maybe even better, because you can't see the Eiffel Tower atop the Eiffel Tower. This was far and away the poshest restaurant we have been to yet. The food and service were great. We planned to spend the afternoon at the Museum of Modern Art, but half of it was closed today so we are waiting for Wednesday.
We did enjoy the Stravinsky Fountain with sculpture by Niki de Saint Phalle and Jean Tinguely. The fountain commemorates works by Igor Stravinsky: here is the Firebird. Jeanne is an artist, painter, and potter, and it's delightful and instructive to see Paris through her eyes.
Since we couldn't see the museum we wandered the streets and visited a couple more churches—St. Merry, which was in a shabby state of repair but had a lovely Italian Baroque marble chapel; and St. Eustache, a Renaissance church in a Gothic shell. Much of its lower reaches, and many of the chapels behind the altar, are hand painted in the medieval style, and the detail work is breathtaking.
I also loved that the choir was open in the back allowing the light from the big chapel behind to stream in. It was a beautiful effect.
Tonight we ate leftovers and talked till bedtime. Actually we only stop talking to sleep and chew our food, and we don't stop long for that.
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