First Sunday of the month.

Today we were up at the crack of dawn (8.00) again. On the first Sunday of the month in Paris all the major museums and many minor ones are free for all. Mum had never been to the Musee d'Orsay, so we decided we would go there. To try and beat the heat and the crowds of people, we arose early and set out at nine for the gallery. When we got there the line was already large, but could have been much worse. There were guides there ensuring people kept in nice, neat lines as if herding cattle into a pen. The line snaked this way and that, looping around and fortunately was moving quite steadily, creating a sense of a ordered, but at the same time, chaotic crowd stepping forward and moving this way and that along their alotted lines. Once inside the museum, we wandered round enjoying the art works and I caused at least one man great consternation as he was evesdropping on our conversation. After saying to Mum that I didn't really like Sisley's work because I found them too flat, boring and uninspired (an opinion I stand by as my own and I'm entitled to) I noticed the man in front of us turn round and stare at me as if he couldn't believe his ears. How on earth could I not like Sisley? I could see his mind say. Not yet done in my shocking of people who clearly shouldn't be listening to me anyway; I later stated that I don't get it when people go round taking photographs of art as if to say yes I've done that museum I saw this, this and this, when really they don't see much of anything, but the lens of the camera. They are not enjoying the art; too busy taking photos to show they have been in the place. One man with a camera firmly attached to his hand gave me a strange look after this comment. We paused in the cafe for coffee and cake, before viewing the rest of the gallery. Having finished looking round the D'Orsay we then decided to go for a ride on the Seine. We bought tickets for the Batobus which is a hop on hop off boat and headed on up the Seine. Now it was us who had our cameras firmly attached to our hands. We passed Notre Dame, some passengers got off and others on and we remained; thinking we would do the whole circuit, but on the way to the next stop Jardin des Plantes, I spied a market running along the bank of the Seine. We hopped out and went for a wander in the Market ,after which we walked back towards Notre Dame stopping for lunch on a restaurant boat moored beside the Seine, before hopping back on the Batobus and resuming our journey. Now we were moving up the Seine again, this time by the right bank, before disembarking at La Tour Eiffel and walking to Bir Hakeim Metro to take line 6 to the Art Market at Edgar Quinet. Here I bought a painting from one of the Artists, before we headed home arriving back at 6 o'clock, 9 hours after leaving the house.