Today is another day excursion out of the city. We both have great admiration for the impressionistic paintings of Monet. So of course we couldn’t resist a chance to see his home, and most of all, his gardens which were the subjects of many of his paintings. To make it a bit of an adventure, and learn some art history along the way, we took the advice of our friend Annelise W., and signed up for a tour with Fat Tire Bike Tours of Paris. As a rule we prefer to go it on our own even if it means learning a few things the more difficult way, but for this we broke the rules. Thank you Annelise!

Rose early, tucked into some croissants and a cafe au lait or espresso or two, then in the interest of time (not to mention tired legs and feet) grabbed a taxi at the stand just outside the breakfast cafe. The driver delivered us to the  Gare Saint Lazare, one of the oldest and busiest train stations in Paris. It is a wonderful building, and so fitting to start from here since some of Monet’s early works were of the interior of this station. Here we met Kit, the guide, and the rest of the tour group. After assorted introductions, we boarded the train and headed for the village of Vernon some forty-five minutes away. Kit gave a fascinating, story filled, history rich talk on art, politics, revolution and war, and how they all set the stage to create the impressionistic art movement in France. We arrived in Vernon, collected our bicycles and headed to the market to purchase lunch. It was a local open air market in the village with an amazing selection of cheeses, breads, little dried sausages, as well as locally made ciders. After stocking up with way to much for lunch we biked to a pastoral spot in the country on the banks of the Seine river, and had a picnic. Then we bike about three and a half miles through beautiful French country side to Monet’s home and gardens. After the manicured gardens of Versailles, these gardens were like perennials gone wild. All types of flowers, mixed color every where, all blended into a grand and pleasing design much like Monet’s paintings. Seeing the waterlilies he immortalized was a very moving experience. His house was fairly modest for a man of his renown, but fit the image, and artistic impression of the man. Soon it was back to the bikes, the train, and headed for Paris. Back in the city before seven  in the evening.

Okay, gotta have another small world moment. Brenda and I had a chance to talk to our guide.He is an American expatriate living in Paris. Born of American parents in Malawi, Africa, raised in Asia and the United States. He came to Paris to complete art studies, fell in love, married and is a wealth of knowledge about Paris and French history. When he asked where we were from, he seemed surprised with the answer. He said we don’t get a lot of customers from Maine. Then he went on to say that as a boy and later, as a counselor, he attended and then worked at a camp on Cobbosseecontee Lake near Augusta. Again, just up the road from us.

Once back at the station, with no time constraints, we decided to walk back to the hotel via some dinner spot. We discovered some nice old streets with a variety of shops, cafes, and sidewalk crepe makers. Finally crossed the bridge over the Seine and had dinner very late at one of our comfort spot cafes. Tomorrow calls for an all day warm rain. Sounds like a nap sort of day, but time grows short and there is so much to see.