Yesterday we headed out on the serious part of the visit, which oddly enough (for me) is not primarily about eating as much French pastry as I can manage in the given time, but in fact to see the sights I have heard and read about, while drinking coffee and eating as much French pastry as I can manage...
The Pantheon is at the end of our street, just 250 metres around the corner from our apartment and rises up in all its elegant magnificence to welcome locals and wayfarers alike. I think we chose a good time of year to make our trip - the crowds are not bad at all, and queueing everywhere is minimal. As far as the Pantheon goes, there's no problem in that regard - walk straight in and start being overawed immediately. It is difficult to find the right words to encompass the feeling you get when you visit these ancient sites, and I am already thinking ahead to how on earth I am going to write about Notre Dame, in this post. You will just have to come and see it all for yourself and use this blog as a list of MUST SEE items. Sorry, that's the best I can come up with - perhaps David will do better when he posts next.
After the Pantheon we visited the church of St Etienne - another one of the many churches in Europe which appear "ordinary" from the outside, but once you're through the doors, are simply jaw-droppingly beautiful. Not every church is like that, of course, and Notre Dame Cathedral is obviously at the opposite end of the scale in that regard, but we have seen dozens of churches in Italy and now some in Paris which fall into that category.
Then on to Notre Dame - we had seen it on the first night, lying solidly luminous on the bank of the Seine, and knew of course from literature, television documentaries and so on, that we were in for a treat. We intentionally rose early to be through its doors at the opening time of 7:45am, wanting to enjoy it before others spoilt the experience. To say that the initial sight when I entered, brought me to tears, is not a lie - those who know me well enough are already aware that I'm a cry-baby for less of a good reason than the spectacle of Notre Dame. I don't know what to say now, to adequately describe how it made me feel. It is truly overwhelming.
On to the Louvre, then. We decided that when Cookie arrives, she and I will actually go inside and see the artwork, but in the meantime David and I walked around the grounds - and what grounds! I had no idea of the immensity of the building, which apparently comprises some 60,000 square metres - the grounds are larger than that, and I truly have no clue how we will be able to see even a fraction of the artwork stored within. The museum is MASSIVE, and stating its size in square metres does not really give a true perspective. Does it help create a visual to say that the MCG oval is 25,000 square metres? The photo below shows one small section of it.
We continued our walk on to the famous Champs Elysees, a very wide long road, flanked on both sides by shops selling only the highest quality goods and designer labels. We only window-shopped while we strolled and it was hard to take it all in; your senses are assaulted by the beautiful window displays but I really wasn't interested in going in to shops only to discover the prices of items were prohibitive and I would have to (possibly) deal with shop assistants who didn't consider me worthy of crossing their thresholds. David and I agreed that the Champs Elysees is actually a bit boring, but it does lead to the Arc de Triomphe, and that is where we were headed.
The Arc de Triomphe is a majestic structure which stands to celebrate the legions of French men and women who have died in various wars for the glory of France. It is also typical of every other public space in Paris with an elevation more than three metres above street level - if you want to see the view, you have to pay, and that really sucks.
The use of the only public toilet on the Champs Elysees (two euros, but it was nothing short of splendid), then a chicken-filled baguette while sitting in the nearby park watching a group of well-dressed local gentlemen playing boules, was followed by the decision to move on.
At this point we succumbed to age and tiredness and caught the Metro to our next destination at Invalides, a vast establishment originally used as a hospital for returned servicemen, but which is now a miltary museum and the location of Napoleon's tomb. Again there is the temptation to pay money for an elevated view of Paris, and again we kept our hands in our pockets, did a brisk about-face and headed back to the comfort of our small apartment for a refreshing nap and a cup of tea.
Refreshed and renewed, we headed out into the depths of the Latin Quarter in search of a restaurant named La Papillion, only to discover that it was not open, and it did not look like it was going to open anytime soon. Drinks at a bar instead, followed by dinner at one of the all too numerous eating establshments that line every street, with tables and chairs all turned to face the street to allow the diners to engage in the main pastime of people-watching. Food OK - experience fantastic. I had warm chicken livers with caramelised onions, then the vegetarian choice which turned out to be a piquant potato dish with salad, before the dessert, which was an apple tarte tatin. All of this splendour for the very meagre sum of 15 euros, which was outstanding value, I thought, despite perhaps not falling into the category of food "fit for a king". I don't think I've had a 3-course meal in Melbourne for years and I was consequently as full as can be and vowed (as one does) not to eat AT ALL for the next 24 hours. Pfffft....! As if!
D1
No comments:
Post a Comment