Great start with my annual 3000 odd kilometre drive from Doon Doon to Perth! This year I had the added bonus of a travelling buddy, one of my oldsters, well she’s not old but we have known each other for quite an age. We started our ‘Thelma and Louise’ road trip complete with brightly coloured scarves and oversized sunnies with the hope of a random Brad Pitt look alike and a shared understanding we would not be driving off any cliffs even in fear of Mayan calendar meaning something… After first navigating the first water crossing, my drive way we started down the Great Northern Highway.

It was very atmospheric with rain gently falling and clods hiding the tops of the green cliffs. I live in the most beautiful part of the world! The cloud got darker as we left Warmun and one cloud taunted us we drove towards Halls Creek. It was like we were heading towards some kind of Armageddon, cool but a little scary!

We bravely ventured forth and the rain fell heavily…trying to think of a cool metaphor to describe but I’ll go with an oldie but a goodie ….it bucketed down! The creeks were all up and resembling what most in the passage of water naming business would refer to as a river. We waited with the trucks and other travellers on the side of the road, nodding to one another as the ‘creek’ slowly went down. MC, the Thelma to my Louise volunteered to drive us over as I was a tad freaked out…not as if I haven’t crossed deep water before but I hate it and it freaks me out everytime, I start to imagine the embarrassment of being swept away!
Anyhoo, we drove on and on and on, coming to a stop at 10pm at a truck stop on the side of the road and settled down, camping in the car. So ended day one. I could go on in minute detail about each day but I shan’t instead I’ll record the things I learnt whilst driving.
1. Scarves don’t fit my head.
2. The state of Western Australia is truly stunning and the changes in landscape is awesome.
3. Less than 50% of drivers still wave to strangers.
4. Egg and bacon sandwiches are the only breakfast food to eat whilst driving.

Very pleased the world didn’t end and can’t wait for holidays to start!

SO……

1. Jet Lag: My first ever experience of this fairly annoying condition. I never knew how foul it was. When other people said they had jet lag, I’d always smugly remarked, “Ooo, I never get jetlag” and not give them an inch of sympathy but it really is yucky, at first I thought I was slightly hungover then car sick but when I was still car sick for the second day and I hadn’t gone anywhere, I knew. Lesson learnt, I must be more sympathetic to others who have disorders I might not understand like morning sickness or piblokto.

2. High emotion in high altitude: I have noticed over the years that I get super weepy when watching movies on the plane. For people who don’t know me, I can be pretty sentimental and tend to cry easily at emotionally charged times eg when my footy team wins and when my students do well but this crying on planes is becoming embarrassing. It was really noticeable on the Paris to Dubai leg, there I was sipping on my red wine and blubbering over the “Warrior” as the honeymooners next to me giggled and stared into each other’s eyes. Anyone seen “The Warrior”, it’s  all about two brothers and a Mixed Martial Arts Tournament, I loved it but the last scene destroyed me, the two brothers brutally bashing each other…fighting for so much more than the millions of dollars in the winner’s purse. “Tommy we don’t have to do this…I love you”. Ahhhhhhhhh. Getting all teary thinking about it…anyhoo, I googled it and found that there is some scientific reason for it happening, phew I am normal.

3. Driving alone: Being in the car for three days by myself is a selfish pleasure of secret farts, talking to oneself, singing the wrongs words to ballads really loudly but with plenty of dramatic flair. I  tend to stick to one or two songs per journey which I will play as little ad breaks to the audio books I listen to…in the past I have spent days murdering “Landslide”, “Keep on Loving you” and “Grace of God”, the 2012 January Journey was “Someone Like You” and “Somebody that i used to Know”. By the way I usually spend the entire audio book, casting it as if I’m going to produce a movie or TV series. I love driving home for all these reasons but mostly because it truly is the most beautiful drive ever, it doesn’t matter how many times I do it, the WA landscape never fails to leave me breathless.

4. Goals made on Holidays: Do you find that when you away you can be quite critical of the way you live your life and start to make grand plans and resolutions? I do. Always. “I will totally declutter my house and live a more simple, streamlined existence”.  “I will not lie in front of the telly aimlessly changing channels for hours…I’ll clean cupboards, give myself pedicures, exercise”. “I’ll start a book club”. “I’ll write a daily blog”.  Good intentions…hmmm, isn’t ‘the road to hell lined with good intentions’?

Now I’m home, life is quickly returning to normal….

PS  No photos this blog, the school computer needs an upgrade, I’lll try and add some when I’m in town.

Photos look more artistic in sepia.

My Paris Myths Busted!

1. Walking around wistfully, gazing dreamily across beautiful views does not mean any unexpected, romantic meetings shall to take place.
2. In the same vein as previous – staring ala Blair Waldorf at some masterpiece will not magical bring forth a prince….think it’s the same as throwing coins in any fountain in Rome.
3. French people do not laugh ala Flight of the Concords….even after saying baguette!
4. Not all Parisians are chic fashionistas  - some are just normal like that rest of us.
5. Calling a french waiter ‘garcon’ doesn’t seem like the thing to do…(BTW had some lovely waiters over my stay….serve me that is…coffee and stuff)

Tres Cool Paris Stuff

1. Being confused for a French person on looks alone (even though you know not all Parisians are chic but normal like the rest of us) makes one feel tres chic.
2. Round every corner can be a little bit of magic which makes getting lost wonderfully exciting.
3. Being surrounded by so much art, history, beauty makes you feel a tad more intelligent.
4. Simply sitting in a cafe can be an enriching experience.
5. Army guys seem to patrol with BIG machine guns….a little scary they seem a little young for such big guns.
6. Parisian beggars don’t seem to be ‘in your face beggars’ some are just old blokes sitting around reading their newspapers.
7. French food sounds better in French ie Canard Confit VS Marinated Duck leg…..Frois Grais V Duck liver. It all tastes pretty yummy too!
8. French sales are awesome of you pretend Euros is just a French word for dollars.
9. Lots of people smoke….it’s almost like they have special tar free fags or super lungs. (It’s made giving up a little difficult…although I feel like I’m getting enough passive smoke to keep me going…)
10. Some iconic buildings really deserve their iconic standings….they’re pretty awesome and it feels pretty awesome when you stand in front of them.

I have only a few days left….(sad face insert here)…I’ve decided I’ve seen most of the ‘important’ things except the Louvre (it seems a tad big) SO now I’m off to sit and read in another cafe.

Hemmingway called this a cesspool...things seemed to have changed...

 What a joy the Saturday markets were! Walking up to the Organic outdoor markets with the rain drizzling down the sweet smell of waffles and crepes greeted us. Each store was rich in an abundance of colour and succulent looking produce. If only I was more confident speaking French I would of bought something from every store, with the help of Aunty C and Uncle G I bought some olives….the girl behind the store offering samples and successfully up-selling her wares. We lined up for some roast chickens…not exactly like, “Red Rooster”, the chickens twirled on the rotisserie as the chicken fat dribbled down over the roasting vegetables below, the delicious smells were divine. People were everywhere buying their weekly shopping, vegetables, fish, meat, bread, oysters, cakes….so much to take in. Kids whizzing past on scooters, old ladies tottering about with their good hats on and families pulling behind huge trolley bags full of their purchases. When we got home we sat in the kitchen, round the wooden table and tasted the sweet tomatoes, all different colours and shapes and more delicious then chocolate – almost- the pop of juice as I bit into one, my whole mouth filled with the pure taste of joy.

That’s the thing about Paris, so much to see, do, taste, the senses are on overdrive, making your brain alive too. The more you see, the more you want to know. Each time you learn something new, it opens up more doors, introduces new flavours, textures, styles, words, thoughts. To live so voraciously, with such an appetite and to have such a rich world full of new experiences constantly moving past – each moment, every time one turns around another morsel of joy, another intricate picture full of nuances and splendour.

Visited the Marais in the afternoon. Tres trendy and cool neighbourhood full of clothing stores, bought myself a pretty cute frock, a Paris original, you know. The buildings were old and beautiful, each one with such an immense history, some held stories of Kings, Queens, mistresses, magic, gossips, scandals….you got to love a good scandal. 

In the evening the Aunt, Uncle and Cousin A went out for dinner, so I hit the streets alone, checking out the Place de Clichy. The Moulin’s blades spun around as toursits stood in front of the famous red building for their perfect shots. The “Live Sex Show” neon lights from adjacent buildings flashed and the street which seems perfectly normal in daylight took on a seedier nature, not that I am adverse to the seedy side of life  but wasn’t really feeling the vibe. I turned up and down streets trying to find the perfect bistro for my evening meal. The end choice was decided on my need for the loo. ‘Le table de cliche’ was ‘traditional creole franco’ restaurant. Felt it was going to be special when the waiter/owner asked me if I spoke French and after hearing “Non,”  proceeded to let me know what he’d be serving me for my dinner. Hard to explain, just trust me it was yum. The real highlight of the evening was the chocolate mousse! Every decedent mouthful was  a spiritual experience, so smooth and chocolatey, even now trying to describe is making my mouth water. How could I describe tasting tomatoes with chocolate…was I on drugs!

Top it off Angus and Julia Stone – “And the Boys”, “It’s just safer to keep you n this heart of mine” ….AND half of it was in French. Very cool.

Child with hand grenade

Two boys smoking in the park

A Family on their Lawn

An afternoon of art with Aunty C, anytime spent with a beloved family member is a joy within itself but to get the chance to savour an exhibition such as Diane Arbus, bliss. I loved Arbus’s wide eyed children and slices of Americana. I sat in a big wooden chair and read about Arbus’s history, it was then I truly felt inspired and moved. It constantly amazes me how such creative and talented people can be so driven and have so much confidence in their abilities. The exhibititon also got me thinking about how lucky the people of Paris and other big cities are to have the opportunity to see exhibitions from such well known artists and so much of it!

As I walked out of the Jeu De Paume, the rain began to hammer down and the wind blustered around me, almost pushed me straight across the deserted Jardins Des Tuileries, which looked tres creepy with it’s avenue of leafless trees. I battled forth and arrived at the Musee de L’Orangerie to be welcomed by NO LINE…every cloud and all that! I wandered in, simply happy to be out of the cold, semi aware that this museum was meant to be pretty special, when I entered a circular room…..woah baby! Crikey! No-one prepared me for the feast of beauty that Monet had prepared for us. It was awesome, the colour, the texture….the poetry within the art. Now, the paintings and their beauty were one thing but the fact that I was there sitting in front of them was another. I felt wonderfully gluttonous feasting on a glorious banquet of colour, ever so tempted to reach out to feel the textured ripples of the pond. I sat and wrote in my journal and the emotions came flooding out…how is it three weeks ago I was sitting surrounded by a different kind of beauty so far away from here, it’s so cool that we can just fly to another part of the world if we choose, how blessed I am. I wish I could of bottle that feeling of independence, hold it deep in my soul so I can open it as the need arises and remind myself of how I felt the moment I sat before the  Nymphéas. 

Downstairs of the L’Orangerie was an exhibition showing works from Spanish artists 1890-1920, I fell quickly in love with a number of artists, a couple of paintings seemed to bore a resemblance to the haunted eyes of Diane Arbus’s work. The paintings I liked from fellas such as Santiago Rusion, Ramon Casas i Carbo and Julio Romero de Torres, showed portraits of what seemed like every day life and the faces of the people drew you in, it was like what Arbus said, ” A photograph is a secret about a secret. The more it tells you the less you know”, these paintings were similar, they made you want to know more about their subjects and surroundings.

A la amiga

My peace was disrupted by a school of teenagers who flooded into the gallery…same the world over; confident, arrogant, curious, shy, awkward, giggly, flirty, loud, without boundaries like large fluffy dogs unaware of their size….they make me laugh, you got to love them. They awake me from my cliched thoughts of art, beauty and life and I make my way to the Le Rotound, my new favourite coffee place opposite the Trinity Church…I like to pretend I’ve been living here for ages, sit down in ‘my favourite spot’, order my usual cafe creme, help out a lost tourist and settle down to a good book. For all the fanciful words I could throw at it, it has been a bloody good day!

The past couple of days I have been immersed into the world of an artiste…wandering through the streets of Montmartre, where all the artists from the past and present hang and do their arty things and walk around looking all bohemian. I attempted to look cool but it’s hard to be cool when you’re following a tour guide wearing a pink vest. I was on a ‘free’ discovery walk which although not exactly free was pretty good value. The guide was funny and told some good yarns. He led us through the winding roads up the hill to Sacre-Ceour. It was fascinating and the view from the top was breathtaking. I took a moment to light a candle in the basilica before making my descent. Determined not to get too lost in the maze of lane ways I found my way to Rue Lepic and continued down the hill, stopping as I found cool street art and take photos…hard not to come over all arty yourself when surrounded by such history. (I played around with the colour button on my camera, messing about with sepia and black and white shots…attempting to be as artistic as I could!)  

Space Invaders

Spent the afternoon in a beautiful bar on Rue de Clichy enjoying some glasses of red and writing in my journal. Took my cousin to the movie to see “Exchange Standard” (The Change-Up). The cinema was pretty cool, comfy seats which were rather low so you are looking up at the screen rather than down like at home…I wonder if that’s the same in all French cinemas?

Today I strolled down past the Opera, past the Louvre (which didn’t have too much of a crowd, I wonder if it was closed), past some gypsies and across the Seine. I got to Musee d’Orsay to be greeted by thousands who had the same idea as me. Thought about joining the massive queue for a minute and turned back up the road, deciding to try my luck at the Grand Palais.

The Grand Palais queue was a beautiful sight….only about 60 so in front of me! Yah! Added bonus was a busker playing the clarinet while we waited, the theme from “The Godfather” filled the courtyard as I made my way into the museum for the Stein Exhibition. The gallery was chock full of Gertrude Stein and her brothers’ art collection, Picasso, Matisse and Cezanne staring! The history about the Stein family and their relationship with the artists was tres interesting…”Midnight in Paris” becoming a little clearer. Is it unsophisticated for me to say the work was okay…I loved one painting from Picasso’s blue period but the rest were just nice. It’s interesting how some pieces grab your heart or make you think, where some things just make you go mmmmmm. I watched other people’s reactions to see if I was missing something…maybe if I had got a audio-guide?

Stopped at a cafe opposite the Trinity Church, had a coffee and wrote for a while. I love just sitting and watching as people walk by. The stylish Parisians, the men looking all suave and the women, so chic. The tourists clutching onto their maps, looking up at the street signs. The teenagers clinging onto one another arms giggling as they past the old lady with her long beige raincoat and her dog in tow. Yep, Paris…art around every corner, cultural experiences everywhere, so much to do….a little hard to try and work out what to do next! Another coffee….maybe a wine….decisions, decisions! 

]]> http://danidoondoon.wordpress.com/2012/01/03/chock-full-of-culture/feed/ 0 danidoondoon IMG_0688 IMG_0674 IMG_0678 IMG_0680 IMG_0710 http://danidoondoon.wordpress.com/2012/01/01/magic-moments/ http://danidoondoon.wordpress.com/2012/01/01/magic-moments/#comments Sun, 01 Jan 2012 17:42:40 +0000 Dani http://danidoondoon.wordpress.com/?p=169 ]]>

Almost midnight in Paris NYE

A beautiful feast of cheese, baguettes and g+t’s in old world drawing-room as the rain drizzled down the windows at 7pm, followed by Duck and potatoes with red wine at 9pm, finished off with indescribably yummy cakes…..magic.

An evening stroll through the streets of Paris, passing families and revellers as we all converged on the Concord and looked up at the Eiffel Tower…magic.

The moment the Tower began to twinkle and the crowd erupted of hoots and cheers, the cars sounding their horns…magic.

Champagne and chocolates at 1.30pm ….mmmmm magic.

Simply a magic way to end 2011….and how does one continue a new year with magic? Well, I went to mass with my aunty…sitting in the Trinity Church listening to the beautiful singing was lovely. (Just before mass started I noticed a homeless man out of the corner of my eye leaning against a railing, a man came over and handed him some coins. I heard him say ‘merci’ and he continued to stay there. The man who gave him money came back and I think he was giving him more cash so he would leave the church…I’m not sure but the old man stayed there all mass and at the end, he went and put the coins in the poor people box. Been thinking of it all day…)

After mass I wandered around, getting wonderful lost but with no where to be I was able to just enjoy the city. Up every lane there seems to be more hidden treasures.

I ate a crepe filled with chocolately goodness and watched as people walked by….more than one looked a little seedy.

Found my way to the Chapelle Notre Dame de la Medaille Miraculeuse (the chapel     where the Virgin Mary appeared to St Catherine), it was so beautiful. I said the rosary and felt so at peace. I was rather emotional but I am so happy I found it.

To top off the day I made it home without getting lost….MAGIC!

Anyhoo, I’m in Paris, day 4 to be exact. I’ve had a magical day chock full of strolling and looking wistful. Commence the day’s wandering with a walk to the organic market Montmartre with my aunty and uncle. They seemed so at home buying their carrots and potatoes in the delightful market. I scored a piece of perismon (not sure how it is spelt but it’s rather yum).I continued on my lonesome to the Arc de Triomphe, where there were a million and one other tourists all trying to get the perfect shot of the iconic structure. I stood and thought of Casablanca, the Germans all marching under…my thoughts were magically black and white and I thought to myself..’we’ll always have Paris’. I began to walk up the Champs-Elysees as the rain began to fall, the drizzle made it all the more romantic. Strolled up George V evidently the fashion triangle according to guide books and the fashionistas were all present, swinging their Dior and Chanel bags as I salivated over the Prada window. I didn’t dare go in, I would surely lower the tone but it was certainly window shopping at it’s best. I coveted a pair of Jimmy Choos for a mere 500 Euro and a beautiful Chloe dress a steal at 2600 Euros. I rejoined the plebs along the magical Christmas village. I surprised myself ordering a hot wine completely in French…”Bonjour, une petite chuad vin, sivoplait, merci beaucoup.” The man gave me a wry smile so I’m guessing my pronunication was as good as my spelling! It was bloody lovely wine. Kept walking in the direction of home…heading for Opera…found it eventually, I was determined to get home without any assistance from a taxi man….kept my wits about me as I braved a new rush of crowds and even got a little clever and went into the Galleriera Layfayette and got some fancy chocolates for after dinner. Bumped into my aunty and uncle as I walked about Rue Blanche…small world?! And started my next challenge find the perfect cafe for an afternoon of writing….walked past the Moulin Rouge another million tourists taking happy snaps and found the Cafe Deux Moulins…it was the setting for the movie Amelie…it was packed and although sweet, was not going to suit my purposes of looking intellectual and wordly. So I kept walking…past an Australian Bar- nah, that’s so me in my 20s…past McDonalds-a tad vulgar….down to my ‘favourtie’ boulangarie- too busy….past Rue Money and into a delightful bar, where their was a gnetle hum of french accents and sweet smells coming from the kitchen. I ordered frites, yep fries, french fries and the biggest glass of red. Challenge met! 

So 2011, I rather enjoyed you, I had fun, I achieved some stuff, I had some brilliant highlights mainly concerning my wonderful family and friends.

2012, I’m ready for you, I can’t wait to enjoy all you throw at me.