New York!

It's been over 5 months since I've been in America. I'll be in New York for the Outsider Art Fair and a bit of fun. Unfortunately, my children's Auntie Karen, of the Garde Rail Gallery won't be there this year, due to a 1,700 mile move. However, you can certainly purchase work online from Garde Rail, check out their link!

Weather shock will set in immediately - the temperatures are forecasted to be in the 30's - it's been in the 50's here in Rome, which my acclimated body finds cold. My cashmere pieces from the shop Souchi, in Portland, Oregon, will come in handy. I couldn't survive our very cold Northwest winters without Souchi cashmere!

As for culture shock, I'm not expecting much, as there are SO many cultures represented in New York.

More than likely, I'll go into architecture shock - not a skyscraper to be found in Rome. Ciao for now!

Ara Pacis - Mystery Solved

Last week, we played turista. We’ve been to Rome plenty of times before, so are fortunate to have seen the traditional tourist destinations: Colosseum, Circus Maximus, Baths of Caracalla, Palatine Hill, Forum, Campo de Fiore, Piazza Navona, Piazza Venezia, Trevi Fountain, Pantheon, Piazza di Spagna, the Vatican, Saint Peters, and Piazza del Popolo. However, in Rome, that’s nothing. There is so much more to see!

I like to think of Rome as a face full of character. Each year of it’s life, maybe there’s a new wrinkle, or a new spot. After 2,500 years, there are so many wrinkles and spots, one can’t see them all! Even most Romans, who were born and raised here, haven’t seen them all.

One of our favorites from last week is one we really should have seen by now, as it’s our kids’ bus stop – Museo dell’Ara Pacis (Museum of the Altar of Peace) – located in Piazza Augusto Imperatore, along the Lungotevere. This stunning museum was created by Richard Meier (of Getty Museum [Love it there!] fame) and opened in 2006. I don’t quite understand why architectural critics and right-wing Italians were disappointed by this museum. The travertine and glass are architectural elements well established in this neighborhood. AND, this is Rome! There isn’t a predominant, consistent architecture displayed anywhere in this city! That’s one of the many reasons why I love Rome.

Okay, we need to cover a bit of history AND solve a mystery first.

The actual Ara Pacis monument was commissioned by the Roman Senate on July 4, 13 B.C. and was consecrated on January 30, 9 B.C. It’s actually about to celebrate it’s 2019 birthday! It was created to celebrate peace after Emperor Augustus completed the conquest of Hispania (Spain) and Gaul (France). (Those crazy Romans...)

We found it very interesting how this monument was sited! The Romans used an ancient tradition of linking the location of the monument via celestial orientation. An Egyptian obelisk in Campo Marzio acted like a sundial. On Augustus' birthday, the tip of the shadow aligned with where the center of the altar was placed. This location turned out to be on Via Flaminia (in the historic center, this road is now called, Via del Corso) at the northern edge of what was known as Campus Martius (which is our backyard). In the photo above, the Pantheon is at the bottom of the photo, Tiber to the left, Augustus’ Mausoleum towards the top, and itty bitty Ara Pacis to the right on the white paved area in the middle.

Over the centuries, this area was regularly flooded by the Tiber River, eventually breaking the monument to pieces and depositing it under four meters of lime deposits. After various invasions, plagues, “new” construction and the like, the monument was forgotten.

Enter the aqueduct work of the 1560’s. Pieces of Ara Pacis were found, although, not recognized. Nine pieces were removed from under San Lorenzo in Lucina, and were placed in the collections and walls of Villa Medici, the Vatican, Uffizi in Firenze, and Louvre in Paris.

In 1859, the Peretti Palace underwent structural work. Under the Palace, which Teatro Olimpia adjoined, the base of the altar was found, as were many other fragments, but because removing these pieces would endanger the walls of the Palace and Teatro, and no one knew what they were, many remained buried.

Finally, in 1903, Friedrich von Duhn (German scholar who headed up the Institute for Classical Architecture for the University of Heidelberg) saw the altar, put the mysterious marble puzzle pieces together, the Ara Pacis had been rediscovered (!) and he immediately petitioned the Ministry of Public Education to begin excavation work. Half of the monument had been examined and 53 fragments had been recovered, when the excavation was halted due to instability of the Peretti Palace.

In February of 1937, the Italian Cabinet ordered the excavations to recommence, as it was the 2,000 anniversary of the birth of Augustus. Only the most advanced technology could be used. Drainage ditches were dug and a team of archaeologists injected 70 cubic meters of ground with frozen carbon dioxide (!), which froze the ground to a depth of 33 feet. While the ground was frozen, the archaeologists extracted the balance of known marble pieces. How cool is that?! Even with the success of finding so many fragments, there are many large fragments still buried, somewhere under Rome today.

In 1938, Mussolini had a protective building erected in Piazza Augusto Imperatore and had the reconstructed Ara Pacis moved. Enter the brilliant Richard Meier, who redesigned the museum we visited, and a satisfying, ancient mystery is solved!

The entire monument, altar and enclosure, were carved entirely of gleaming white Carrera marble. The relief sculpture craftsmanship is so detailed, it is believed Greek or Greek-trained artists were the sculptors. Also interesting, there are recognizable faces found in the friezes, which brings an intimacy to this piece. However, I’ll let the photos speak for themselves.

Basilica San Clemente

San Clemente’s absolutely fascinating excavations draw visitors from all over the world. Being able to visit a 12^th century basilica is pretty amazing all on it’s own for any American, however, being able to go down into an excavated 4^th century basilica and two 1^st century B.C. buildings is worth the 5 euro price of admission. I took this photo from this angle to catch the Coliseum in the background to the left.

San Clemente, a minor basilica, is entered off of Via di San Giovanni in Laterano. It was built in 1108, completed in 1123. Let’s just say the curb appeal leaves a lot to be desired. There’s no display of unique external architecture that would capture anyone’s attention to the current church. It’s pretty low-key and very hard to photograph. What is found inside is far from ho-hum and unfortunately, no photos are allowed to be taken, so I borrowed from a few online sites.

Upon entering the basilica, you are greeted by three basic naves in a rectangular shape, supported by unmatching columns – some appear to be granite, others Corinthian marble. The floors are a colorful marble, not in a complex design, but then there is a stunning spiral candlestick, striped in a colorful, glittering mosaic, which sits above the 6^th century schola cantorum (choir enclosure) which was moved up from the 4^th century basilica below.

Look left and Gasp! The apse… The apse is covered in a beautiful, intricate gold mosaic, depicting the Triumph of the Cross. The decorative details of animals and plants are amazing. Being a good rule follower, especially since I’m on foreign soil, I didn’t dare take a photo, but I really wanted to!

The sacristy contains the ticket office and stairway down into the excavations.

We walked down into the very well preserved basilica, which historical writings have referenced as it being dedicated to Pope Clement I (who was either the 2^nd or 3^rd bishop of Rome after St. Peter) in 392. There we found the second largest collection of Early Medieval frescos in Rome, depicting pieces of stories of Mary, Jesus, St. Clemente, St. Alexis, Pope Leo IV, and empress Theodora – all painted throughout the 5^th and 9^th centuries. The paintings that were restored are of good color, but faded. The walls were made up of bricks, old bits and pieces of columns, and other broken, carved pieces of marble. Again, I wish I could have taken a photo!

A fascinating painting is the Legend of Sisinnius, as it contains one of the oldest examples of painted language in classic Latin AND vernacular Italian. It’s dated at approximately the 11^th century. (This photo is from www.sacred-destinations.com)

The largest collection of Early Medieval frescos can be found in the Roman Forum at Santa Maria Antiqua, which isn’t currently open to the public as it’s undergoing extensive excavations (i.e., will open in the next 25 or 50 or 75 years...)

Christianity became legal in Rome in 313, and many churches were immediately built, but other pagan churches were legal until 391.

So under this site was previously a large Roman home and Temple of Mithras. There are many legends around whom the home belonged to, the most popular legend being San Clemente. The home was a series of bricked rooms, with low doorways (these people were short!) connecting each room. The ancient Roman waterway, still flows through a room in the house – very cool. (This map is of the ancient Roman aqua ducts. Number 10 is about where San Clemente is located.) Also legend, Christians would worship secretly during the 2^nd century on this site.

Then, in the late 2^nd century, the Temple of Mithras was built on the site. The Mithras were an all-male fertility cult, originating from Persia in 1^st century B.C., and they were rivals of Christians from 14 – 313 A.D. Much of the Temple was destroyed when the 4^th century basilica was built. One room remains, which we couldn’t enter. It contains a marble Mithraism altar, marble chairs, a painting we couldn’t see and supposedly, stars on the ceiling – again, we couldn’t see them, just the altar. (This photo is from www.livius.org)

Due to religious persecution, the Irish Dominican’s were granted San Clemente and San Sisto Vecchio to administer and live out their religious lives. They continue that mission today.

In 1857, Father Joseph Mullooly began the excavations in San Clemente and within 10 years, the 4^th century basilica had been excavated.

There are countless ancient churches in this neighborhood, as it is the adjoining neighborhood to the first Vatican – Basilica San Giovanni in Laterano (my amateur photos above). All of the Pope’s were crowned here until 1870 and before the Pope’s moved briefly to Avignon, France, in 1309, this also was the papal residence. We certainly have a lot more exploring to do!

Caotica Roma

Make no mistake about it, living in Rome is absolute chaos. There are so many day-to-day interactions that simply, don’t make sense. Behaviors, sign and body language, how business is conducted, cultural norms – it’s enough to drive Italians and non-Italians mad. But for some weird, freakish reason, I absolutely LOVE it!

The other day, I had to buy a computer printer. I knew exactly where to go. There’s a Euronics (European chain-store, filled with reasonably priced electronics) store right outside of Piazza del Popolo. I looked at all of the models, confirmed the model I wanted would print for an IBM-compatible and Mac computer, bought the right connector cord (to go wireless would undoubtedly create some massively technical issue I couldn’t solve), and bought my printer. Then I realized, I needed paper. I asked the cashier for carta.

She replied, “Photografica?”

I replied, “No, non rigata (plain).”

She shook her head no.

I asked, “Dove (where)?”

She shrugged her shoulders at me and replied, “Non so, signora.” She didn’t know.

It made no sense to me, whatsoever, that I could buy a printer for my computer, but I couldn’t buy computer paper to go with it. Nor did the cashier know where to buy the paper, and if she did, she certainly wasn’t going to tell me.

That, my family and friends, sums up Rome for you! And I LOVE it!

This kind of scenario plays out each and every day for each and every one of us who lives in and around Rome over the most common, normally mundane, random interactions (bus schedules, auto repair, taxi stands, ATM’s, etc.) I’ve heard whoppers from all walks of life - Roman, Japanese, Italian tourists, Australians, Americans, Spanish, etc. After hearing and sharing our experiences, we all agree, it’s absolutely nuts in Rome. And I LOVE it!

If living in Rome for longer than 90 days, you need a visa, which you must have before arriving in Rome. Within 5 days of your arrival, you must also apply for the permesso di soggiorno, the residential permit, from the police. But, before you can apply for your permesso, you have to have a codice fiscale (like a social security card). Like good citizens, we applied for everything in a timely manner. However, only I have received my codice fiscale, no one else in the family has and none of us has received our permesso. We hear we might receive by the time we leave…

I love that things don’t make sense. There’s no set of rules to learn and follow. The boundaries are like over cooked spaghetti. There isn’t a pattern. No expectations. Everything you do, it’s like doing it for the very first time. Imagine!

I had to go to three different markets to find our favorite brand of espresso. The market closest to us stopped carrying it. We asked when it would be restocked and they said they didn’t know. Another market was out, probably because our neighborhood had wiped them out. We found it, in a different neighborhood and bought two cans. Who knew when we’d see it again? Two months later and it has since reappeared at our market.

For Americans, this can be an extremely frustrating experience, because we’re led along our entire lives. Everything is planned and laid out for us. We rarely have to think. Our service industry smiles and asks us how they can help. Our stores are overflowing with merchandise.

Romans don’t smile without a reason, and I’m okay with that. I smile at all of them all of the time. I’m sure they think I’m an absolute fool. I’m just so happy living here, I can’t help myself. If someone smiles back, I know they are American.

I love walking in the streets of Rome every day and not knowing what all of these very animated and talkative Italians are saying. I mean, if I concentrated really hard, I could pick up bits and pieces of their conversations, and it would probably help my Italian, but why? To me, all of these Italian conversations are like beautiful music, in different tones, swirling all around me.

I love the mild climate, the sunny skies. I love hearing the horse and carriages clip-clopping down our cobblestone street. I love all of the dogs – Romans love walking their dogs (and they are very good at picking up after them, unlike Parisians.) I love the ancient structures littered throughout our city. I love the confusing, winding streets. I love the atmosphere of Rome, which to many, is too crazy.

There’s a little comfortable niche I’ve carved out, out of all of this chaos, for myself (and family) in Rome and I LOVE it!

Christian Lacroix

We arrived in Paris on a sunny and cold Sunday. Monday, museums are closed, so my husband and I decided to do a bit of shopping. The designers' boutiques in Paris are so sublime. Their chicly styled windows beckoned us to come in out of the frigid temperatures and warm ourselves amongst their wares. So we did.

One of our very first stops was Christian Lacroix.

I LOVE Christian Lacroix.

And where I’m from, you can’t buy Christian Lacroix, unless you shop online for a piece here, or a piece there. I couldn’t just buy a random piece of his clothing online. It just wouldn’t do.

Christian Lacroix is amazing. I knew someday, I would have the opportunity to grace his boutique and I was just going to have to wait it out.

Unfortunately, I almost waited too long, because his design house went bankrupt (I still CANNOT believe it!) and at the end of January, his boutiques will close.

My husband and I went into his boutique on rue du Faubourg-Saint-Honoré. I was hoping to find a little memento. Something to remember Christian Lacroix by. Can you believe, I didn’t find a thing? Not one item. However, my husband… My husband found a few mementos.

One of them turned out to be this gorgeous suit. It’s a black and white glen plaid with a faint barn red pin stripe incorporated into the wool. It’s beautiful and classic. What made it worth writing about, is the incredibly unique interior of the suit.

I'm sorry my amateur photos don't do this jacket justice. The interior has been completely lined, by hand, in silk. And as you can see, there are subtle details that you won’t find in most men’s suits. I love the red velvet inner pocket, black and white silk piping, little medal medallion over the other inner pocket, and red buttons that act as the exterior button liners. It’s absolutely stunning!

Our sales person told us this Victorian-era scene is from Arles, Bouches-du-Rhône, where Christian Lacroix was born; which makes sense scenery-wise, as Arles was part of the Roman Empire for hundreds of years.

A colorful individual could wear this suit jacket inside out! My husband wouldn’t dare attempt that, but one could.

We had their tailor take the pants in a bit, so returned to the shop a couple of times during our week there. They did a fabulous job!

We’re sorry to see Christian Lacroix leave fashion. He’s a wonderfully creative man, who has left a lovely impression in my husband's closet and our world.

Haircut

I’m one of those rare individuals who will cut their own hair. I don’t know too many people that will take shears to their hair, which is probably a good thing. Hair is our greatest accessory, so taking full responsibility for its look is wisely, left to professionals. And yes, that includes me.

I don’t remember when I foolishly thought I had enough skill to chop off a few locks, or where I found the bravery. I must have looked in the mirror, out of sheer desperation, and gingerly nipped off a teensy bit here and there. How that translated into my own hair design over the years is beyond me.

Every now and then, I was asked by family and friends to cut their hair. My grandmother loved it when I would cut her hair – and she was very particular. I put all grandmothers into two camps. The sweet-gentle-bake-cookies-few-extra-pounds-hugging-kind, which I was lucky enough to have one of (my Nana), and the modern-working-woman-nails-always-done-kiss-on-the-cheek-kind (my grandmother). Their names even give it away. Nana was security and warmth and lots of love. Grandmother was elegant and active and cool. She wore Calvin Klein jeans! And Keds!

As my grandmother aged, and was stricken with cancer, she didn’t feel well enough to have her hair styled at her salon. So she asked me to cut her hair! Me! I felt SO honored, and freaking terrified! As my grandmother wasn’t the huggy-lovey-dovey type, I knew if I screwed up, she would haughtily let me know. However, I did well enough and it became a part of our visits.

I lived in Portland, Oregon for a little over eight years and absolutely LOVED it! It took me a long time to find the right stylist. Actually, it took me years! I ended up cutting my own hair, for years. I didn’t trust anyone and I didn’t think I was doing too bad. Then, I met Wendy. Wendy became my Hairy Godmother.

Wendy and I worked together and she was all about hair and products. She was always doing something cute with her hair – long, straight, short, curly and in between. Her mother had been a stylist, so Wendy was always trying out different products for different effects. She was so hair confident.

Wendy would take me into wholesale shops for hair products, accessories and make up. It was a big, wide world out there and she was going to show it to me. She told me straight up, I needed help. Yes, I was doing a pretty good job, but someone else could do much better. She made a few suggestions, waved her magic wand and next thing I knew, I had a stylist.

Well, fast forward a few years, and here I am, living in another new city, faced with the same trust dilemma and lack of my Hairy Godmother. And this time, it’s exacerbated by a language barrier. So, I started cutting my own hair. Let’s just say the awkward grow out phase wasn’t growing out. It didn’t matter if I wrapped my head in a scarf! Each and every day became awkward.

I totally copped out, went online and found Noi, a salon where the owners and stylists speak English. Come to find out, many of the English-speaking community who live in Rome, trust Noi with their greatest accessory. And, Noi is located in Piazza del Popolo, which is in my backyard. Thanks to Massimo, from Napoli, I’m sporting a new Italian ‘do and I like it.

Saldi! Venta! Soldes!

Saldi! Soldes! Venta! Sale! The sale signs have replaced the holiday decorations in Rome. All Italians, men and women alike, look forward to sale season. It’s time to save some hard-earned euro, add something luxurious to the wardrobe and be fawned over by complete strangers.

Now I know most American’s could care less when they see a sign that says Sale, as you see them all the time anyways. However, in Italy, sales are rare. They only occur TWICE a year!

Winter 2010, the 6-weeks Rome has scheduled for sale season are, January 2 to February 13. The 6-week Summer 2010 sale season will be July 3 to August 14. Each region has its own calendar, so sale dates vary a bit from city to city.

Typically, discounts range anywhere from 10% to 30% in the beginning, then percentages climb up to 70%, and even 80% by the end. There are discount stores in Rome that buy designer sale merchandise and sell those items at even steeper discounts.

The difficulty of waiting for the two sale seasons, is your size or favorite color may be gone. The majority of stores don’t have a companion store to send another size. Luckily for me, Italians have small feet, so the small shoes are usually gone, but the larger are usually available.

Thankfully, Romans are a pretty tame bunch, so you won’t see the pushing or grabbing that you may read about, in say, London. You will see added security guards, who are carrying guns(!), who will form orderly lines for entrance into a store (because God knows, a tame Italian will shamelessly cut the line as soon as they think they can get away with it!)

When in Chanel the other day, I waited 20 minutes to enter the store. A gorgeous, beautifully dressed Italian woman entered the store, said a few words to the guard and was allowed immediate access. The two women in front of me, casually dressed (like me) were pissed! They started arguing with the guard. Finally, after a few minutes of back and forth, appropriate hand gestures, and heavenwardly glances, he yelled, “Basta!” at them (enough). The gal who assisted me said Chanel will maintain security guards until things return to calma. Smart decision. (Nope, didn’t buy a thing, nor brave enough to take a photo.)

And Italians are VERY exact in what they buy. They don’t have the same commercialized excess mentality that Americans have and they prefer not to buy anything on credit. The item(s) they buy are the best they can afford, and because of the excellent craftsmanship of Italian made goods, they’ll have that item for years.

Oh, and watching Italians buy clothing is pure entertainment! Italians try items on, glide out of the dressing room and will twirl about, waiting for everyone in the vicinity to gasp in admiration and offer an opinion (which will only be positive!) Rounds of, “Bella Figura!” “Carina!” “Molto chic!” will all be made. Then the person trying on the item will reply, “Non so…” (I don’t know…) When it’s an item they’ve clearly had their eye on for the last six months, because no Italian enters a store to try something on, unless they are there to buy. It’s comical!

You certainly know an American shopper in Italy. We’re the ones who walk through a store, inspecting and touching everything, trying to avoid sales staff because we don’t speak the language confidently, take our chosen merchandise into the dressing room and stay in there until decisions are quietly made. I’ve had many an attendant waiting outside the room, calling over other attendants (hustled over only to coo at me at the nod of my attendant), who end up disappointed when I come out of the room in the same clothes I entered in, handing them the items that I want.

If you’re ever in Italy for sale season, enjoy the prices and the spectacle!

KARL LAGERFELD ! ! ! ! !

Notice the caps? I don’t usually type out in caps, unless I’m really excited about something or someone. I don’t quite know who knows Karl and who doesn’t, so allow me to provide a bit of background.

Karl Lagerfeld is a STAR in the clothing design business and has been for OVER 20 YEARS. So much of what is produced each season, by other designers, are offshoots of what Karl has already designed, produced and sold. There is no greater designer at this time. Period. He can’t be touched. He designs his own label, Karl Lagerfeld, designs for Fendi, and of course, where he is most famous, has been the genius behind the Chanel label since 1983.

Chanel. Chanel. Chanel. Chanel. Chanel. Chanel. Chanel.

We’re talking the legendary House of Chanel. We’re talking Coco and long strands of pearls and No. 5 and little black dresses and oh, so smart tweedy suits.

Karl and I exchanged glances while we were in Paris, and I’m sure he doesn’t remember me, but I’ll remember him for the rest of my life! You see, I really don’t give a damn about the celebrities much of America focuses on. Lady Gaga? Big whoop! Bradgelina? Nothing special. Actually, I can’t really name anyone else – who is America peeping in on these days? Oh right, I don’t care. I digress…

Karl is the definition of Celebrity. He’s stood the test of time. In my opinion, he’s relevant and classic.

My husband and I were walking to dinner on Rue des Saints Peres and saw one of those great, big Hummer’s driving our way. Spotting a Hummer in France is very unusual, however, not unheard of. We’ve seen them in the south.

The Hummer turned onto Rue de Verneuil, as did we, as we were on our way to Tan Dinh (a fabulous Vietnamese restaurant!) I was mildly curious. Who would hop out? A woman in a full-length mink coat and pearls? A child with her nanny? An oo-la-la-drop-dead-handsome, French man?

Why, it was Karl! He hopped out of the Hummer right before our eyes. On his own, without security. When I recognized him, I immediately gasped, out loud, to my husband (no shame), “Oh my God! It’s Karl Lagerfeld!” Karl looked at me (thankful I wasn’t wielding a camera to be sure), and I looked at him, then he passed us and disappeared into a doorway across the street. I, meanwhile, floated all the way to Tan Dinh. I’m sure my meal was enhanced by the fact that I saw Karl…

I’ve never been that close to celebrity before. Nor will I, probably, ever again. Was I wearing or carrying any Chanel (Fendi or Karl Lagerfeld)? No. Se la vie!

Only the Beginning of A Love Story... Paris, France

Be still my heart! I love Paris! I’ve never been to Paris before, I barely speak a word of French, and I had the time of my life!

For all of the negative press we receive in America about how “we” are treated over here – I gotta tell ya (as my dad would say before he would wind himself up for a lengthy lecture of what HE thought we should be doing with our lives, which was usually spot on) – it’s a load of crap.

I THINK the spin-doctors in America are jealous of France, jealous of Paris, and just want us to stay home and spend our dollars towards our own economy (a noble, if somewhat, limited suggestion). They know the food is amazing. They know the transportation systems are efficient. They know the wine is incredible. They know the art and architecture surpasses anything found in America. And They know the shopping can’t be duplicated in any American city – including New York – and yes, I consider myself an authority, as I spend more time than I should shopping in New York.

Okay, so a few secrets are out...

So get over here! French food is touted as being rich. Again, with the negative press. French food can be rich, but it also can be very healthy. Fish and seafood is everywhere. Fresh fruits and vegetables are everywhere. Many cuisines populate the city. My husband and I practically giggled when we sat down and ordered Indian food! We haven’t eaten Indian food in months. It was fabulous! We also were tickled pink to eat Vietnamese food in an elegant setting. However, we’ve also had our fair share of fresh salads and delicious cheeses and fresh baked baguettes and foie gras and, and, and…

Wine, in France, is very affordable. You can walk into le supermarché and purchase a lovely wine for under 10 euro (€). And our own doctors are giving us the green light to drink a glass each day for our health! So what are you waiting for?

The museums in Paris and around Paris are numerable and just about every art form is represented. There is a Museum Pass, I’d highly recommend for those that plan to spend time in museums. A really nice, feature, not having to stand in line, as those lines can be long! A separate entrance for Museum Pass holders is worth its weight in gold! The 2-day pass is 32€, for 48€, you can purchase a 4-day pass and the 6-day is 64€ = easy entry into over 60 museums in and around Paris. www.parismuseumpass.com

We went to the Musée d’Orsay and Musée du Louvre, both, full of breathtaking works of art, that if you’re lucky, you’ll see a piece of now and again when an American art museum collaborates on a collection.

My husband and I are both advocates of the Audio Guide. You learn so many little details, not learned in travel books or websites. The Musée d’Orsay had a really good Audio Guide, Musée du Louvre, not so much. However, so much of the art speaks for itself, no?

The shopping in Paris is incredible! And affordable (for some things). Beautiful linens, perfumes and body care products, delicious tea varieties, unique clothing and scarves(!), household items, art and antiques – each neighborhood we walked through had darling shops filled with items not readily available in the U.S. And I was so taken by the graphic genius of the French! Each shop has a darling sign, charming storefront, and cute packaging.

Gardening in Paris is taken very seriously. Even in the winter, the gardens are perfectly tended and you just know, come spring, they'll be bursting in a riot of color. Children run and play, there are parks specifically for dogs and the artistry found in sculpture, topiary and ironwork is positively delightful.

Churches are less in number than in Rome, and aren’t nearly as old, however, their Gothic architecture is stunning. We went to Mass on New Years Day at Notre-Dame. It just doesn’t get any better!

Oh, and for those that enjoy royalty sighting while on vacation, Karl Lagerfeld and I exchanged glances AND I met and talked with Ina (The Barefoot Contessa) and Jeffrey Garten – royalty in my book!

Come on over, and enjoy Paris!