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Paris for the musically curious

 

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You’re right, those who commented to me, Paris should be on the list!

A few years ago, in late September, I spent a week there that was dominated by autumn (there’s a cliche), walks, the Left Bank and music.
Count four cliches — but I want to mention the music here, because I associate Paris more with sound than the “sights”, and there is a place worth visiting that is maybe not on most itineraries.

The Musee de la Musique, on the outskirts of the city, holds a large collection of instruments, some of them very rare, and you explore it as much by listening as looking. Your headset tunes into the instruments you walk towards; it is a real blast for the musically curious.

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However, the absolute high point of that trip, and one after which I could leave Paris with a contented look on my face, was a concert by one of my heroes, Goran Bregovic.
He performed in a packed theatre with his usual array of Roma, Bulgarians and  a Polish ensemble — plus the audience, since they knew every nuance of the songs and couldn’t stop themselves singing.

That night was electric!

Everything went right in Paris in 2001, even though I didn’t have a lover.
Parisians were friendly and, more significantly, I was less anal-retentive about my language skills, having no-one to fall back on.
(That testing is also why I have often found solo travel hard but rewarding)

I also connected with people in music stores and heard about great musicians; collected a bunch of recordings I still play frequently; and attended a concert of early music (my fav genre) at the Cluny Museum.

Music seemed to be everywhere and none of it was the little sparrow, the old thank heaven for little girls or cheesy accordion players.

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