 Capa & Paris |
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Last night Zuko and I were up from two a.m. until five a.m. because of a thunderstorm during which he predictably grew hysterical. It was awesome! I watched a great show on PBS about Robert Capa, a groundbreaking and very famous photographer from the World War II era. I groggily decided that he looked like a cross between Christopher Moltisanti and Ernest Borgnine. He had an affair with Ingrid Bergman and stormed the beach at Normandy with Teddy DuChamp's dad (who was crazier than a shithouse rat). Robert Capa, dude. He was right in the thick of things and captured some amazing moments. Katya Derevko said that her mother was ready to get a divorce and run away with him, but he wasn't the marrying kind. He wanted to travel the world and take his photographs, and he basically said fuck you to the magazines and pioneered the concept of photographers owning their negatives and the rights to their work. He formed a little posse of freelance international photographers who just kind of renegaded around and took part in all of these amazing things. His photographs of the liberation of Paris made me cry. Then he stepped on a landmine in Indochina and died clutching his camera. Anyway. It was one of those great public television specials that makes you want to go to graduate school in history and read old books until your fingertips start to smell like stale ink and dusty paper. Speaking of Paris, I've been getting some great tips from my readers. Always one to mince words, Melissa said, "If you don't go to the Sainte-Chapelle I will NEVER SPEAK TO YOU AGAIN! No, really." Kat confirmed that that there is not single nice person to be found in the whole of Hotel Sevigne and confirmed that I really dodged a bullet on that one. She said I had to go to Notre Dame, the Louvre, and Versailles and suggested that the best possible advice she could offer me would be to buy a museum pass, which made me laugh, because I told my sister I wanted to buy one if only to use the clean bathrooms, and she acted as though that were the most retarded thing she had ever heard in her entire life. So I am buying a museum pass! And I am vindicated! Sarah also recommended the Sainte-Chapelle, basically saying that it has the best stained glass in the entire universe. She also recommended the Picasso Museum. mo pie reminded me that Chiara just went to Paris, as if I needed reminding, as I have been obsessively poring over her European entries. Chiara loved the Middle Ages Museum (also called the Cluny Museum) in the Latin Quarter and ordered me to "go see the tapestries and glory in womens' contribution to Gothic art. And don't forget to say hello and goodbye every time you walk into a store." As if I do not already do that! I am from the South. If nothing else, we are some greeters. She also recommended Chateau de Fontainebleau. Chiara is my Soul Sister, because I, too, left my heart at Lake Como. Once we get to England, we need to decide how we're going to get around once we leave London. How does one traverse through the UK? By car? By train? By bus? If my sister had her way, we'd probably be going by rollerblade, but I have to draw the line on physical fitness somewhere. (Namely, on my couch, exercising my favorite callisthenic, arm raising fudgepop to mouth.) Seriously, though. All we really know is that we're going from Paris to London and will have about a week to venture about through England, Scotland, and Wales. Travelers. Advise. Transportation suggestions. Help a sister out. About this time in ...
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