This morning we left history and art and turned our attention to science instead, mainly to appease the ‘tween’ who has ‘no interest in paintings’.  At all.

Science museum then.

We decided to hop in a taxi to travel overground rather than underground in the metro… it was interesting to realise how big Paris actually is and how different it is when you move out of the historical centre.

The weather was bleak and drizzly and it really added to the brutalist architecture of ‘La Villette’, the area where the museum is.


The science museum itself is pretty big… but it could do with some attention.   It could be totally amazing and most of the exhibition were really interesting… but…


…but there were also a lot of ‘not in use’ signs and empty spaces and general ‘tiredness’ around the place.  Do you know what I mean?  It could also be because it’s hard to create a science museum that appeals to older children/teeneagers, I’m sure that if No 3 had been younger our experience would have been more positive.


After the museum I took myself onto the Metro and back into the centre of town.  I really wanted to see ‘Place des Volges’ and Victor Hugo’s house.  Needless to say I was on my own on that one!


Place des Volges is stunning.


As French as kissing and baguettes… I wish I’d had the time to sit and people watch whilst reading something by Simone de Beauvior or perhaps a Victor Hugo’s novel as he lived at no 6 with his wife and children for quite a few years.



This is the view from Hugo’s apartment (yes it did rain a little yesterday and the lower temperature were very welcome)


Am I the only one who loves a manuscript? or a writers signature in his own handwriting?  Walking home the other day we passed this shop that in the window had signed letters from famous people.. James Joyce and Scott Fitzgerald to name just a couple… gave me a slight shiver.  Like seeing the individual brush stroke on a famous painting and how it brings the artist alive.


Apparently Victor died in this bed… (very very small bed by the way)


The place wasn’t exactly as it was when he lived here, but a lot of the furniture had been collected from his various other residences (he lived in exile on the island of Guernsey for years after the fall of Napoleon), and so you get a pretty good idea of the style and taste.  Minimalist he wasn’t.




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