A week in Paris was like going down our hotel’s spiral staircase; it seemed to go on forever until you realized there was actually an end to it. Two more days and we’ll packing our way back home.
So, we parted our way after the meal; she headed back to hotel her job, and I was about to travel alone for the first time in this city. Where to go? The choice was obvious.
Traveling alone in a foreign city, I felt as if time moved slower, actions louder and emotions amplified.
A nursery was just next door. Obviously photography wasn’t allowed within the building.
I paid my entrance fee of 6 Euros at the reception on the ground floor. Exhibition rooms are located on the first and second floor, and a relaxing space on the third floor. Perhaps this was as close as I could get.
I was grateful to witness one of Irving Penn‘s monumental work on the exhibit. The Small Trades was a series of portraits in the early 50’s of skilled trades people dressed in their work clothes and carrying the tools of their respective trade from Paris, London, and New York. Newspaper seller, fishmonger, fireman, waiter, rag picker, contortionist, seamstress, brick layer, chimney sweep. You name it. The subjects were intriguing and the prints were breathtaking.
To name a few – Guy de Maupassant the novelist, Samuel Beckett the playwright and André Citroën who founded France’s Citroën automobile factory.
My mobile rang – she’s done. Enough of arts and history tour. Time for Angelina Jovie (no typo).
The service was excellent, as the waiter kept checking with us if there was anything we needed. With no wine, the meal at Le Malakoff costed us 69 Euros. We’ll definitely come back again some day.