Louvre (or not), Polidor and fonctionnaires

Chat alors! I was kindly given an invitation to a vernissage for this evening at the Louvre by my friend and neighbour who works there: "Titien, Tintoret, Veronese... Rivalités à Venise" in the presence of Frederic Mitterand, the Minister of Culture and other bigwigs. Great! Met Mariane at the time and place arranged and off we went eagerly, only to find a queue that circled several of the pyramids..."We have an invitation", I proffered. "The queue is over there for the invitations, Madame," came the surly response. So, we got in line.

The doors were meant to open at 17h30. Latin punctuality. At 18h we were still waiting and the queue hadn't moved an inch, except in the backward sense. I hate standing in line, especially if it's not going anywhere. It's suuuuch a waste of time. Especially if people push in. With The Great British Queue Heritage in my veins, people who cut in drive me berserk and I have no qualms telling them so. Mariane and I were just wondering whether we should go and have an early dinner and return a bit later if at all when, hurrah, there was movement, a bit of a scuffle, and in we went. Bags x-rayed and people too, just like at the airport (rather a relief to see such tight security) and down the escalators to the huge foyer of the Louvre Museum. And...another queue. A sign indicated "2 hours wait from this point". Huh? I looked at Mariane. Mariane looked at me. We turned on our heels and left, rather disappointed and a bit peeved. What should we do instead? get a Pariscope and check out the cinemas, theatres and concert halls, perhaps?

We walked from the Royal Palace across the Pont Neuf to St Michel, past the 'bouquinistes' where Mariane knew a fabulous restaurant, The Polidor, rue Monsieur-Le-Prince. Very Vieille-France and cosy. Great food, excellent ambiance, nice service and packed. We sat the evening out there instead and decided we hadn't really needed the Louvre and the vernissage after all as we were perfectly happy sipping smooth red wine, eating (in my case) a very tender steak (my first in months) and swooning over a fondant au chocolat with crème anglaise. Delicious! Everyone was very friendly, the other diners happy to chat to one another, smile a lot - a real melting pot of nationalities, some tourists, some ex-pats. A definite 'must' for a future evening.

We hoofed it through the medieval streets past St Sulpice to the bus-stop in St Germain des Pres. St Sulpice is still garbed in scaffolding and I wonder whether the 'travaux' will ever come to an end. certainly not before I leave, at any rate. That'll be something to behold when I return. Bus to Opera. Mariane continued to St Lazare and I took the metro back here to the 15è, almost missing the stop, lost in thought.

A note was stuck on the glass doors downstairs. The GDF had been and found noone home. Well, that's coz people have work Monday to Friday as a general rule. Or are out, at least, living their lives. A message: "Call this number and make an appointment, otherwise GDF will call the locksmith to gain access to your apartment in order to read your metre". Punished for having a job! Of course, the calling out of the aforementioned would be billed to you. Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat? How about they leave a note on each door and you fill in the date and time when you're home. Would that be too complicated? Just a little too much like customer services, perhaps. So, after work tomorrow, there's an addition to my 'things to do' list. Call the GDF and tell them when they can come read the metre. The cheek of it. Get me out of here!!!

Between a lovely evening with Mariane and lazy civil servants, c'est ça, la vie Parisienne! A blend of visual paradise due to pure aesthetic beauty, a warming social whirl with friends in great ambiance...and a flamin' battle every day with obstreperous 'fonctionnaires' who simply can't be naffed!