Final visits and comfort tourism

Ladies and gentlemen, the Opera Garnier.

Most of you know now that I have returned from Paris due to ill-health. This makes the last few days very chaotic and haphazard, so I will condense the weekend's events into things I actually did. For the most part, that means the Friday. I was in a lot of pain and didn't go to class that morning, but in the afternoon as I considered my options I decided to indulge in a bit of "comfort tourism", and gravitated to my favourite building in Paris.

The Opera Garnier was built by Charles Garnier in an original and extravagant style which he dubbed "Napoleon III". Here's the bust of the architect outside.

Inside, there is a lot of decoration, but I don't find it over-the-top. I mean, it is over-the-top - it's opulent and involves a lot of ornamentation - but it's anchored by simple, sweeping shapes and columns and the colour and detail is tempered by an expanse of pale marble. The facade alone looks monochrome, but is, in fact, constructed from 23 different types of marble.

It is also, of course, the inspiration for Gaston Leroux's novel about the phantom. When you see the level of detail and ornamentation reflection in the proliferation of mirrored surfaces, one can understand

Now, that's a candelabra.

The grand staircase from below.

See that statue just to the left of the central opening? These are its casual feet.

I love it. And there's nothing quite like an auditorium, especially an opera house like this one, in which most gallery seats are in boxes. From one such box I saw the ballet La Dame aux Camelias last summer.

The ceiling hosts a spectacular and Parisian Chagall mural, controversial not, as you might think, primarly because of its incongruous style, but because it's pretty much glued on over an earlier one and, as far as I understand, no one knows how to remove it without damaging the one underneath, but they also know that the glue will need to be replaced at some stage.

Talking of spectacular ceilings, I think my favourite parts of the opera house are the following two ceilings in very small anterooms off the main ballroom.

It's like someone packaged up my aesthetic and gave me it for Christmas.

Now the view from the terrace over the Avenue de l'Opera. This, to me, is Paris. Home sweet Paris.

Even being really tired on the Monday night (yep, we're jumping all over the place in the timeline), having eaten with Matt and Alissa, when I changed buses by walking across this square I felt quite at home.

This is the very shiny grand ballroom.

And from above, as it is best seen, the grand staircase again.

Many mysterious and unexpected sights to be seen! Wow, I feel like I'm writing a terrible 30s children's book.

The costume department has a display by the entrance.

I have one just like it at home.

Then on the Friday night I had the most wonderful French meal with Alissa and Matt - steak frites with sauce bearnaise, crepes and chocolat chaud.

Not everything in Paris is sophisticated. This, for example, is a disturbingly inexplicable advert for a summer horror film festival. I had to wait for a bus here every day.

Finally, this is the view over the cemetery - from my bedroom!