Maison de Victor Hugo is at 6 place des Vosges. I followed the signs from the metro and was led down an alley that ended at a park and split off to the right and left. With the park in front of me the space created a square. I saw the sign and was clearly was on place des Vosges. To the left of me I saw the door was labeled "1" so I turned left expecting I would go the half block, turn right, cross the street and find the even numbered doors. But it's not that easy - or difficult, depending on how literal a person you are. I'm extremely literal and that can be a bad thing sometimes.
Crossing the street brings you to another street. Well, what the hell? I remembered that some streets I'd come across had both the even and odd numbers on the same side when a park or other non-habited space was across from it so I turned back around and double checked numbers thinking I had missed seeing the even numbered doors. Back at the entrance to the alley I stood confused and probably looking pretty stupid when I saw ahead of me (or too the RIGHT of where I had first stood) a bunch of people coming out of a door at the far corner. Duh. Walking that way I saw the even numbed doors on this side. The place just doesn't make any sense to me.
Victor Hugo Museum - I don't think I've read anything by Mr. Hugo, but he's a writer and I love all writers. Honestly though, his being a writer wasn't why I chose to tour the apartment - 1 of many he lived in while in Paris. I wanted to see the architecture of the building and the furniture. As with most museums trying to recreate the homes of their subjects, not all the possessions in the apartment actually belonged to the Hugos, but many did. One piece that gave me a sense of bringing it all together was a bust of Hugo done by Rodin. That fascinated me because of my tour of the Rodin space.
One thing I really liked here was that some of Mr. Hugo's books were shown and it really inspired me to want to have several books written by me and able to be shown when I'm dead and famous. Although I think I wouldn't want someone to put a museum together about me because they just wouldn't do it correctly. I'd hate for them to have some piece of god-awful furniture or stupid photo and tell people that it was my favorite thing in the world because I may have commented on it once or been too kind to it's creator to tell them it was shit. No, don't let anyone make a museum for me unless it's one of my kids and they get all the money.
Musee de Carnavalet - This museum of the history of Paris is in 2 adjoined townhouses. There were no pictures allowed in the museum but there was one guy who blatantly snapped photos non stop so when it came to seeing a piece that I fell in love with I couldn't help but take a picture...then I saw another piece and took another picture, but though I'm the poster child for rebellion I 1. didn't want to get in trouble for taking pictures and 2. appreciate the reason for a museum asking for the respect of their rules even though, in my humble opinion, the lighting this particular museum had for display is worse for the pieces than any photography could be.
Also, a person can walk away from something with a thousand pictures but not with the sense they actually experienced something. Unless it's a sunset or moving something or other I take a moment to study it, decide if I like it or not then take a picture. I studied both these pieces until I was drooling. Sad, so sad they sit wasted and never to be used again. When Armageddon happens I won't be looting banks or even grocery stores...no, wait....when it happens I will loot a bank, then a grocery store then I will settle myself in a museum and use the furniture and give it it's life back as the rest of the world is falling apart. When all has calmed down and the world is reborn I will be the Queen with all the good furniture.
The last place to check out on this trip was the Musee de Monmartre. It's housed in a building where many artists lived and worked together - a regular commune. The museum holds many pieces by Toulouse-Lautrec and showcases the Bohemian lifestyle that came from that section of town in the late 1800's to early 1900's....belle epoque. The tour starts in the basement then works its way up three flights. It's a cute, cute place. I love the narrow buildings but the stairs killed me. I got to keep my umbrella with me this time and thank goodness because it makes for a wonderful cane when my knees pretend to be 75 years old.
It was here, through the audio guide, I finally understood the whole chat noir thing. It also explained the black cat upon entering the gift shop. If I could go back in time I would go back to the late 1800's and be an expatriate writer in France and hang out with all the great artists of the day at Moulin Rouge.
Off to bed. A plane awaits along with a backpack that is much too heavy for me to want to deal with.
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