How you going to keep 'em down in Tbilisi?

January 10 2010

Ah Paris…what a beautiful city. I was last there in 1970! My friend Andrea from Eugene was attending a Buddhist retreat about five hours outside of Paris and invited me to join her in Paris after her retreat ended. I debated about the expense and decided what the heck and booked a seat on the cheapest flight I could find which isn’t cheap here. I flew on Belavia Air, an airline from Belarus, a member of the Russian Federation. We left Tbilisi at 6:10 a.m. requiring Gia to pick me up at the house at 3:45. Oy! My boarding pass was hand written. After Gia dropped me off he called me about 20 minutes later to make sure the plane was leaving on time. What a sweet gesture. The plane was only about one third full. The man in front of me fully reclined his seat and my knees were pressed into the back of the chair. Oy! As soon as I could I moved to an empty row and stretched out. The food served was two small rolls: one with salami and one with cheese and a thin piece of lettuce. No condiments. We got to Minsk in a couple of hours where I had an eight hour layover. You can get a direct three hour flight to Paris from Tbilisi but it costs four times as much as taking a longer flight. Being the frugal person I am…well I had an eight hour layover in Minsk! It was 15 degrees below zero Centigrade! Minsk was as flat as Florida . There was snow on the ground but the runway had been plowed. I was directed to the passport control area and instructed to fill out the immigration card. I protested saying I was not staying in Minsk but to no avail. I got out of line, completed the form and returned to the desk. Once the officer read that I was there for 8 hrs, she instructed me to wait. A uniformed person came and took me through two locked doors and up some stairs to a ‘transit hall’. It was a large area that would hold about 200 people. One person was there sleeping on a couch. Soon I was joined by another person, a young Australian. The only other person was a guard to watch over us. After a while I asked the guard if I could get some water. He followed me down the stairs to the bar where I bought a bottle of water for 2.5 euros. Ouch! Fortunately they accepted euros, dollars and rubbles. I had some euros and dollars which was fortunate as there was no currency exchange in the part of the airport where I was. I returned to the transit hall and I slept for a while on a couch. At some point about 20 passengers were escorted into the room and waited for there until their connecting flight boarded maybe an hour or so later. I chatted with the young woman who had been in Georgia for about three weeks. She hated to leave but needed to return home to Australia. She later approached the guard saying she didn’t have a boarding pass and wanted to go get one. He told her to wait. Someone later came, took her passport and baggage claim ticket then returned and handed her the boarding pass. Strange, we felt like these people had watched too many Russian spy movies! I was left in the hall with the guard and original person who was now up and playing his radio loudly.

Later I went for coffee and a snack. Guess what? The only food available was a half slice of dry white bread with my choice of salami or cheese, just like the plane! They had any kind of liquor as well as a few juices, sodas, beer and wine. I got an Americano, a salami ‘sandwich’ and a small dark chocolate bar (health food). The cost was one euro less than the water!

At 1:15 another uniformed person came and asked me ‘Paris?’ I said yes and he said ‘Come with me’. He walks me through three security stations. I get my boarding pass and wander into a smoke filled waiting area. I now have 90 minutes before boarding. The sun has been out all day but the temps haven’t moved. Everyone here is blonde or has light brown hair with blue eyes by way of contrast to the folks in Georgia where 90% have black hair and dark eyes. I see many fur coats here. Must be more wealth than in Georgia. We were late boarding the plane and were herded into a waiting bus that would take us to the plane out on the tarmac. It was an unheated bus and even with it loaded with live bodies, it was still bitterly cold. The bus sat on the tarmac for 20 frigging minutes. No one could figure out what the holdup was but then they opened the doors to two full buses and left us standing outside while letting five people at a time go up the steps and into the plane. I was out in the cold for another full fifteen minutes. I had a warm thick wool coat but it was short and I realized my tushie was quite cold. My fingers turned to ice even with lined leather gloves. My feet felt like large blocks of ice. After boarding it took quite a while to thaw. I left my coat on for 20-30 minutes. I thought my feet would never get warm again. I don’t remember ever being that cold. It was still 15 below according to a tall gorgeous black French man standing beside me. These temps will make Paris seem balmy! I have been checking the temps there and it is supposed to be 32 degrees F during the day all week and 21 at night. The plane was packed and the seats were the smallest I have encountered in all my travels. The term sardine can comes to mind! They served a ‘meal’: salami and cheese sandwiches! The sunset set at 4:20 while we were boarding the plane.

I arrived in Paris and breezed through the passport area. I didn’t check any luggage so was on my way quickly. The hotel had sent me directions so I hopped on a train that took me to the center of Paris and then caught the Metro to an intersection one block from our hotel. Andrea had not arrived so I went to our room and unpacked, waited 30 minutes and decided to go grab something to eat since it was 8:30. The hotel clerk made a recommendation of a nearby restaurant. I was more tired than I realized and missed the street but found it after retracing my steps. I got there and it was closed. The restaurant next door was packed and I didn’t see any seats so went across the street to a Japanese restaurant, one of my least favorite cuisines but thought I could get a hot bowl of noodle soup. No such luck. I was seated at a ‘table’ with two couples who were together and another couple at the other end. I was between the two parties. It was one of those places where they cook at your table as a form of entertainment. After traveling for 18 hours I was in no mood for entertainment! And they didn’t have noodle soup on the menu. I ordered miso soup and pot stickers, ate and went back to the hotel. Andrea had arrived and it was great to be together again. We have known each other for thirty plus years.

We slept in the next day and had missed the breakfast at the hotel. We went across the street and had fabulous coffee and pastries. Those French know butter! We decided to be kind to ourselves and not knock ourselves out trying to see everything. Our goal for Monday was to go to Musee de l’Orangerie to see Impressionist art mainly Monet’s Water Lilies. We decided to walk as the sun was out. We started from the cafe around noon. It was cold, damn cold but we persisted. It never got above freezing the entire week and with the chill factor it was 16 degrees F. Oy! Every time we went out my fingers suffered. Our masseuse in Tbilisi had knitted me a wool hat before I left and I was so thankful to have it. It would slip on my head but without it I would have been miserable. We walked along the Seine River, saw Notre Dame along the way and the Louvre. I had no desire to go inside the Louvre. I had been there 40 years ago and it is just too darn big. You could get lost in there and never emerge. We did duck into Shakespeare and Co. bookstore. It is a famous English bookstore where David, our son, spend his nights in Paris, sleeping on their floor. The place was packed with Americans, mostly people half our age. It felt good to get out of the cold but it was crammed and claustrophobic. We arrived at the museum and lucked out as there was no line to enter. This is a relatively small museum and Monet’s Water Lilies are housed on the main floor. They are huge and occupy two rooms that are round with curved walls which contain four large panels of Monet’s paintings, one to each wall. I was overcome by their beauty and I wept at the sight of them today. I had last seen them in 1970 when I visited every major art museum in Western Europe with Walt Padgett, my first husband who is an artist. We spent a long time in both rooms then headed downstairs to see other Impressionist works. What a thrill! We returned to Monet’s Water Lilies before leaving. Around 3:00 we stopped for lunch and had a delicious omelet with French fries! We skipped dinner since we ate a late breakfast and lunch. On our second day we visited Musee d’Orsay, a huge museum and we had to wait in line outside in the freezing cold for an hour to get in. Andrea was most patient with me as I really was committed to seeing the works here. Once inside we decided to concentrate our viewing on the Impressionist works and skip the rest. I get saturated after viewing works for two hours or so. The museum was a madhouse, frankly. Too many people in some rooms to adequately view the works. But we prevailed. In one room we were looking at a painting and a woman with a small digital camera thrust her arm in front of us to take a photo of the painting. It was rude to say the least. Later I observed her and realized she was not looking at the works, just thrusting herself in front of patrons and snapping photos. What an interesting species we are…I went to the museum shop to buy gifts for Gia’s children who study art in their school in Tbilisi. The night we ate at their home they showed us their texts with lots of photos of famous works of art. Afterwards we found another delightful café with another fun waiter. I have no memory of what I ate but it was good!

From here we decided to walk to the Eiffel Tower. It was so cold and the sun wasn’t out so it seemed even colder. It turned out to be farther than we had anticipated. Andrea had a fall recently and is still suffering from the fall so walking for long distances is uncomfortable for her. Alas we arrived and discovered another long line to go to the top of the tower. I told her I was unwilling to wait outside in the cold again and she readily agreed. We took our obligatory photos and headed back to a place where we could catch a bus home. Again we skipped dinner since we had eaten lunch so late in the day.

On Wednesday we decided to go our separate ways. Andrea wanted to see a museum with Asian art and I had one more Impressionist museum I wanted to see. The Musee Marmottan Monet has the largest collection of Monet’s in the world. The collection is housed in the former home of the Marmottan family and still contains some of the original furnishings. Given my intent I barely looked at the furnishings and concentrated on the paintings. Other artists’ works were here and as it turned out many of the Monet’s looked more like painting sketches or studies for his master works: The Water Lilies. There was a real bonus downstairs, an exhibit of post Impressionist and Fauvist works. I felt so lucky to have happened upon this exhibit as this is another period I like. Afterwards I made my way back towards our hotel, riding two different bus lines. I was so pleased that I never got lost! I found a café near our hotel and had salad and an omelet. Andrea arrived after me and was thrilled with her adventure as well. We decided we should splurge and have a real French meal in a fancy restaurant and went to the place our hotel recommended. Oh my! It was perfect. It was a short walking distance from the hotel and an intimate setting. Arriving at 7:30 we were the only ones there but the place filled up as the night progressed. We chose the fixed price three course option. I ordered mussels in curry cream sauce as a starter and Andrea had goat cheese in phyllo dough. Oh my god, it was too good to even attempt to describe. We shared bites so we had the best of all possible worlds. I had expected a few mussels and was shocked at the size of our portions. There was just a hint of curry and the mussels are small and so tender. I could have stopped there but had the entrée which was duck breast with a cherry sauce and two potato and apple cakes, something like hash browns only a thousand times better tasting. Andrea had a beef dish I think and we ended the evening with a chocolate mousse to die for. Oy! I would weigh a ton if I lived in France. Given their excellence in baking and my love of carbs I wouldn’t stand a chance!

The next day Andrea needed to take some time in the morning so I headed out to the internet which was about 9 blocks from our hotel. Due to the cold, I didn’t frequent it as often as I normally do. Ron had been calling me using Skype but the connection was never good and we frequently got disconnected. I don’t remember what the heck we did that afternoon. That evening we went out for a seafood dinner but frankly I was tired of restaurant food by then and should have just had a salad. Andrea was wiser than I and ordered a starter and stopped there. Afterwards we took a bus to the Louvre to see I.M. Pei’s much touted glass pyramid entrance and to see the Eiffel Tower all lit up which we could see from the Louvre plaza. I got terribly cold: hands and feet had turned to ice so we grabbed a cab and came home.

Our final day we packed up and took a cab to another hotel where Andrea was spending the night before staying with a friend for the weekend. Her new place was in the heart of Montmarte so we took a little time and walked around and visited the Sacred Heart Church. We lucked out as there was a service going on and the nuns were singing. The acoustics were superb. Afterwards we grabbed a bite to eat and went back to retrieve my bag at her hotel. From there we headed down the hill to the Metro and I took the Metro to the train station where I caught the train to the airport. Slick!

My return trip via Belarus was similar to my initial experience. I was directed to passport control and this time the person instructed me to buy mandatory insurance. I had handed her my boarding pass for the next leg of the trip to demonstrate that I was not staying in Minsk. She told me to step aside and wait. Once again I was escorted to the waiting area and just made it in time for my connecting flight. What’s up with mandatory insurance? I didn’t have time to find out but it sounds like a scam to me.

I arrived in Tbilisi at 4:30 a.m. and crawled into bed to snuggle my warm honey at 5:30. We chatted briefly and I fell asleep to be awakened at 11:40 with soft kisses. How great is that? There’s no place like home even when home is the Republic of Georgia!