When I left you we were just saying goodbye to Merci after a gloriously lazy lunch.
We spent the rest of our sunny Saturday afternoon exploring Le Marais.
Walking through the winding streets, ducking in & out of shops, patisseries & ice cream parlours.
Now I know it’s not French, but my favourite ice-cream comes from Amorino. They do a dairy-free chocolate number that just rocks my world. I have it with raspberry sorbet & passion fruit sorbet to cut through the rich flavour of the chocolate. The best bit? If you ask for it in a cone they shape it into a rose for you…
…beautiful but not very structurally sound. It tends to melt down over the cone & requires innovative licking solutions.
I said innovative, not glamourous. Sticky and happy we went to a museum I’ve never been to before, Nissim de Camondo.
MoÃse de Camondo was one of Paris’ most influential (and wealthiest) bankers in the early 1900’s. He was also a passionate antique collector, particularly anything to do with French furniture from the 18th century. In 1911 he built himself a mansion (mimicking the Petit Trianon in Versailles) to house all of his treasures.
The place is bursting with French history, glorious paintings & French furniture.
Very few people know about it so you can pretty explore the place by yourself, an oasis of tourist-free calm.
As glorious as the upstairs rooms are… I liked the kitchen downstairs the best.
MoÃse de Camondo had intended to one day leave the house to his son Nissim, but it was not to be. Nissim was sadly killed in an air battle during WW1. After the loss of his boy, Mo誰se decided to donate the house in its entirety to the French state, on the condition that they would leave it as it was and allow others to enjoy it. They opened it as a museum the year after MoÃse de Camondo died in 1935. Tragically however, the family died out. They were Jewish, and the French handed them over to the Nazis during WW2. None of the Camondo clan survived the Nazi camps. The house stands, not just as a museum of French history, but as a memory to them and other families who were lost in the war.
It’s well worth a visit if you’re in town. As soon as we stepped out of the door the heat smothered us. Clouds had rolled in and coated Paris like a blanket, sealing in the heat from the morning. PJ went to a meeting and left me to stroll home alone, marvelling at the architecture and deserted summer streets.
Later in the evening he called and said “Get dressed, we’re going to Ferdi.” What followed was a veritable feast of cocktails & seriously wicked burgers.
Embarrassingly enough I inhaled mine before PJ had taken much more than a bite!
It even earned me an “Oh la la!” from the waitress, which pleased me greatly. A large supper meant we were in dire need of a long walk. Thankfully Paris was wearing its prettiest hat so welcomed us onto the streets with a smile & a luminous sunset.
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| Silky top, denim shorts, bag, ballet pumps |
I could get used to these long summer nights in Paris. Great food, great scenery, great friends… Perhaps I should become The Parisienne instead of The Londoner?
