It was our final day in Paris, and Jen had a relatively early Eurostar so we headed to Montmartre for breakfast and a little look at Sacre Coeur before she needed to go to the station. We had a gorgeous breakfast, and I would love to tell you where, but it had changed hands and the website had not been updated (France), so it wasn’t quite what we expected, and I can’t bloody remember now. But it was just round the corner from the church, just follow the smell of the bacon.

Earlyish morning before the crowds properly descend onto Montmartre is an absolute treat. The views over Paris are stunning, the love lock fence, and blue skies behind Sacre Coeur, are so beautiful I could actually cry. As we sit on the steps and kill some time before saying goodbye we witness a fitness influencer and boyfriend taking photos with the view of Paris in the background. This involved a series of high-kicks, some yoga poses, and good god the vanity was hilarious. We actually hurt our eyes from rolling them. I wondered which I’d rather have, that body or the bacon and hash browns I’d just had. Safe to say that I remain happy with my life-choices.

With Jen packed off into an Uber, I skirted the scam artists which were starting to appear on the church steps. Beware anyone slapping a bracelet on you and then insisting you pay for it. I maintained a zero eye contact policy until I was safely in the queue. It’s lovely that Sacre Coeur is free to visit, I think you only pay if you want to go to the roof for the view, which given the view was pretty great anyway with the elevated position overlooking Paris (all those Montmartre steps after all), I opted not to. It’s as beautiful inside as you might expect, the domed ceilings and murals and sculptures are totally worth seeing. The closest I’d been before was the view framed by the clock in the Musee D’Orsay, you know that photo that everybody that’s been there has.

I had a leisurely wander, and a mooch through the extremely overcrowded gift shop filled with a lot of religious ephemera as you would expect. I bought a tiny charm that I thought would fit on a necklace I have. I enjoy the symbolism of the heart with a crown or flames, which I believe is called an ex-voto. I have a couple of these in brass on my kitchen wall, and a disco ball mirrored version in my front window. I enjoy them aesthetically, rather than with any sort of spiritual connotation. I bought a small one here as well as the charm, and that is now on my hall door.

Once I’d finished here I began to just wander the streets of Montmartre. I am fully in love with it all. The bohemian tree lined streets and street art, flower clad restaurants, artisan shops selling pottery or table linens. A saxophonist was paying some light jazz at the back of the church. I just adored it. If you’re a photographer of any sort, the beauty of it all means you can’t take a bad picture.

I had forgotten that there is a Salvador Dali Gallery and museum here, and I’ve loved his work since I was a teen so it very much felt rude not to. It was relatively quiet in the museum so I could wander at my own pace and generally have exhibits to myself. I read about a dinner Dali had with Walt Disney in 1945 with talk of a collaboration, and Dali worked on the animation solidly for 8 months. With the economic crisis at the end of the war, the hundreds of drawing were never used, until 1999 when using original sketches notes and storyboards, the project was brought back to life. It exists as the short film Destino, and you can watch it here.

My favourite piece is the little man with a spear riding atop a giant snail. I want it please.

You can purchase artwork from the gallery. I had a brief chat with a beautiful man that looked like Adam Lambert, he gave me a catalogue to browse. You can buy a painting from about 5,000 euros or a sculpture from 10,000 euros. A part of me thought could I be that person that owns actual fine art?. I took a card, despite the fact that I most definitely do not have a budget to own actual fine art.

I lamented the lack of a gift shop, and was on my way once more. Past old windmills, Instagrammable florists and a daylight view of the Moulin Rouge. The 10 minute or so walk back to my hotel to get my bags and move on to the station to go home was absolutely fabulous. This is my favourite part of Paris without a doubt. Did Toulouse Lautrec wander these streets I thought? He must have.

In July, I had the privilege of a private viewing of some Lautrec sketches, some of which included Moulin Rouge dancers and the preliminary drawings for some of his iconic posters. This was at the Western Print Room at the Ashmolean Museum in Oxford. Will explain all about how you can do it too, in a later blog which will be coming soon, as ever, once I’ve had chance to write it.

This is my last Paris blog, I hope you’ve enjoyed them. I’ve genuinely enjoyed writing them, and writing again in general, so from Monday 18th August, there will be the start of a daily journal, published a week in arrears, for as long as I am enjoying writing this. You can have it drop straight into your inbox if you’d like, just subscribe for free and you’ll never miss a blog again. Even now people that have followed me for ages tell me they didn’t know I had a blog, so perhaps you could give an occasional like, or share if you’ve particularly enjoyed something I’ve written. I’d certainly appreciate it. I promise I won’t think you’re a stalker.

So, until tomorrow,

TTFN,

V x

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