Alice goes to work

This is the walk I take every morning between the metro and my office.





End of the Louvre



Pont des Arts



Institut de France



Ile de la Cite



Musee D'Orsay and Eiffel Tower



Dries Van Noten, aka Alice's favourite shop which she could never afford.



The view from my desk down onto the best patisserie in the world.

L'Orangerie de Sceaux

I think it was a brochure I picked up in a cafe which pointed me to a concert on at a chateau in the banlieues of Paris which hosts chamber music in it's Orangerie every summer.

Since my parents were coming I thought I'd get some tickets. We saw Schubert's Trio No 2 in mi bemol major, op.100 and Tchaikovsky's Trio in minor, "In the memory of a great artist", op.50 performed by Svetlin Roussev on violin, Francois Salque on cello and Elena Rozanova on piano.

The experience was sublime. Un-amplified the music filled the room, once quite literally used to grow citrus - as well as host parties according to the brochure. Aside from the cellist sweating rivulets, the performance seemed effortless. The concerts run every year and I'd recommend it to anyone in Paris. Not to mention the fact that the chateau and gardens are exquisite also.

I managed to forget my camera so pictures are from Wikipedia and the Orangerie festival website.

The opening photo was the Orangerie itself and this is the unprepossessing house built by one of Louis XIV's ministers.



And here's some of the gardens

Come on Eileen

We discovered a great new second hand shop yesterday called, incongruously, Come on Eileen. It's not particularly cheap but the quality is good and the space is enormous. There is everything from heavy coats, party shoes and handbags to sun-dresses and hats.

I won't say the staff are particularly friendly and helpful but it's certainly worth a visit. When I get around to it, I'll put up a photo of the Givenchy vest I picked up.

16-18 rue Taillanders Paris 75011

Previously undocumented wardrobe staples

Jacket from a vintage shop on rue Roi de Sicile. Tried out my French bargaining skills and got 20 euros off. I love the cut.



Belt from Sessun on Rue de Charonne, 11th. This street is great for that affordable, made in France, young designer sort of thing. Pause cafe is a good spot for a drink and people watching. The street also houses Machine a Ecrire, the bar whose window is filled with typewriters and whose decor is decidedly writerly.

Ile des Moustiques

So here's today's work outfit including Anne Elizabeth skirt. The fabric is cotton, polyester and a little metal thread which means it holds the shape you scrunch it into. Wunderbar. Please excuse the facial expression.

Paris Plage

So kids, here's what's happening on the banks of the Seine at the moment. If they hadn't called it Paris Beaches I might have been impressed. There's table tennis, fencing, ice cream, playgrounds, a fitness stop and plenty of buskers. The amount of sand is minimal but like most Paris happenings, it's altogether civilized. Many are reading books, there's swing dancing and when it gets too hot, an adult sized sprinkler to wander under. Altogether rather fun.



Alice on sand beach



David on grass beach

Journey to the Centre of the Earth

Well someone or other convinced me to go into the tunnels under Paris with a friend whose map had been printed from the internet. We were warned that there could knee-deep water and possible forays off the map, not to mention the fact that you're not really supposed to do it and it's possible one may run into freaks down there.

We passed through a building site, a gypsy camp and through a glass strewn hole in a tunnel of disused railway tracks to gain entry.

Yes, it was wet, there were points of squeezing through gaps or finding caved in tunnels but mostly it felt safe. That is until we saw another light in the distance and one in our group picked up a rock, just in case. The light approached, our group silenced. Boys in front, girls behind. But it was another bunch of intrepid explorers so everything was fine.

We saw a rock formation



in a room filled with carvings some recited poetry







And old telephone cables



before coming out the other side.



Exciting as it was, I don't think I'll be doing that again. And the looks on the metro - when people saw sandstone caked in our hair, wet jeans and spattered clothes along with my general preference for being above ground mean I won't be going down again.