Well, We Can't Say We Didn't Try

Monday, 2 January, 2012 - To make up for Sunday's inefficient use of time (though it wasn't so bad considering everything was closed), Lauren and I were up early with a full game-plan for the day. Lauren had to catch a train back to Besançon that afternoon, so we wanted to really make the most of this last day. We were going to start by climbing one of the bell towers of Notre Dame since Lauren had never done that (and I wanted her to get in at least a handful of experiences she hadn't had before in Paris), which would also allow us/me to see the stained glass in the cathedral during daylight (though how much light there would be was uncertain). We arrived about fifteen minutes before the tower was supposed to open for the day, both to get an early start and because we wanted to beat the crowds. Luckily there were only five people standing around the gate. Unluckily there was a sign posted saying "Tower Closed Today". It was unclear whether that sign had been taped up earlier that morning or the day before and just never taken down, and none of the other folks eager to climb the 387 stairs seemed to know, either. Lauren went inside to ask at the information desk while I dutifully held our place in line, but while she was gone a man came out and informed us that the sign was accurate, and the tower would be open again tomorrow. Drat. I headed inside the cathedral and intercepted Lauren on her way back out; I knew by her frown that she had already received the news. So we contented ourselves with wandering the cathedral again, and at least it was early enough that the crowds weren't yet overwhelming. Even in the meager light of an overcast Parisian morning, the stained glass was absolutely astonishing!

I was particularly surprised to note that the dominant color of the rose windows in the transept arms was purple, a color I don't associate with stained glass because I didn't think it was something they could produce back around the 13th and 14th centuries. Lauren and I were discussing this and looking at a picture she had taken zoomed in, and we realized that it was completely an illusion; the stained glass was alternately red and blue, but arranged in such a way that from a distance (say, from the perspective of looking up from the ground), the two blended together and were indistinguishable, thus appearing as purple to the naked eye. There's just something about that that I really liked. I tip my hat to you, Gothic artists!

It looked even more purple in real life. We explored and discovered for perhaps half an hour, then decided to continue on our way. Oh, okay, if you insist, here are two more pictures from Notre Dame before we move on to our next failed expedition:

When we walked outside the sun was actually peaking through the clouds a bit and it wasn't windy or frigid, so we decided to stretch our legs a bit and walk to the Louvre. It felt so nice to have the warmth of the sun on our skin (not that much skin was actually exposed), even if only briefly. We stayed on the north side of the Seine, walking along the river. We passed the Hôtel De Ville, aka not a really fancy hotel, but the Paris City Hall.

The City of Paris' administration has been located there since 1357. A "new" city hall was built in 1533 by King Francis I. However, that was burned down by Paris Commune extremists in 1871 to destroy all records of the French Revolutionary period when anti-Commune troops marched on the building. This left only the stone shell, which was retained in the rebuilding.

La Fontaine du Palmier, Tour Saint-Jacques, and Théâtre de la Ville

We also passed Place du Châtelet, a square with two identical theaters that were completed between 1860 and 1862 that are facing each other. Théâtre du Châtelet mainly has more operas and concerts, while Théâtre de la Ville tends to have more contemporary dance performances.

There was also an "Animalerie"along the way, which Lauren informed me is like a "patisserie" or a "brasserie", except instead of purchasing pastries or food and beer (well, you probably shouldn't be drinking the French beer, but I think Lauren told me that 'brasserie' literally translates to 'brewery'), you would purchase your animals here. I found that a bit humorous.

It probably took us about twenty minutes to walk from Notre Dame to the Louvre, and wouldn't have taken quite so long if I hadn't stopped every six feet to take a picture, but it was really pleasant getting some fresh (dry) air for a change. I had seen the Louvre a few days ago, but only from across the Seine, so I wasn't aware of just how ornate the outside is! I thought the art was only on the inside, sheesh!

Unfortunately, the ornamentation of the palace was the only Louvre artwork that I was going to see that day. We only paused briefly at the head of the horseshoe to admire the museum's exterior before scampering to find the end of the line; the courtyard was already swarming with people. We followed the line as it wrapped around the main glass pyramid... and snaked back through the courtyard.... and up the stairs... and through the hallway leading into the second courtyard... and gazed across that courtyard to where the line hugged the side of the Louvre all the way around two and a half sides. There was a security guard standing nearby so we asked if he had an estimate of the wait time, to which he responded at least two hours. He was wholly nonchalant. Even if we had had our books, we'd be waiting (at least) two hours, so we would get in around 1:00pm, spend two hours, then have to get back to the apartment to get Lauren's bags so she could catch her train. Not worth it.

We trekked back to the front, took one last longing look at the stunning façade, then found the nearest Metro to take us to the Museé Carnavalet, the museum of the history of the city. This would at least also be something that Lauren hadn't seen before. We found that easily enough. We also found that it is closed on Mondays. Her guide book hadn't mentioned that at all, though I suppose that's what we get for not double checking online the previous night.

A little disgruntled, we began walking towards another Metro line but decided we should stay in this area for lunch since it was a little less touristy; odds were that prices would subsequently be lower. Lauren realized that we were really close to a favorite locale of hers, too, Place des Vosges, or "Place Royale". That perked us up a bit as she told me about the history of it, how it is the oldest planned square in Paris (dating to the first decade of the 17th century) by Henry IV. It became the prototype for all European residential squares, and was the first to have all of the house fronts fashioned in the same architectural style. It also has beautiful vaulted arcades spanning over the sidewalks.

We ate at a brasserie one street over, and I decided when I saw escargot on the menu that I should really embrace the advice of St. Ambrose when he suggested that, "when in Rome..." Lauren assured me that if I like butter and garlic, I would hardly be disappointed. I like butter and garlic. Thankfully Lauren has had escargot before so she showed me how to hold the snails with the little tongs they distributed and use the special fork to pull out the little delicacies. We ordered a platter of twelve to split. I was a touch chagrinned, though, when my last little snail didn't want to come out of its shell and I tried so vigilantly to get him out that I ended up pushing him back too deep to even reach with my fork. Oops. I wonder what you're supposed to do in that situation. I left him, albeit sadly, to hide. We also joked about whether or not waiters ever deliver shells without snails to tourists just to see them trying vainly to dig something out that wasn't there to begin with. Although I certainly wasn't graceful in eating, they were every bit as good as I hoped they might be. Maybe better. I was subsequently thrilled when Lauren told me that it's perfectly acceptable to use bread (which, by the way, you don't have to pay for unlike in Austria where you pay an extra 50 cent or so for every piece eaten) to sop up the remaining buttery garlicky goodness. That, followed by the daily special of baked chicken breast with veggies, succeeded in giving us energy to continue on in our pursuit of something to do during Lauren's last afternoon in Paris.

Lauren recommended the Panthéon, which luckily turned out to both be open and have a very short line to get in.

Initially intended by King Louis XV to be a church in thanks to Saint Genevieve for allowing him to survive a serious illness, the Pantheon was to replace the 6th century abbey overlooking the Latin Quartier. Although construction started in 1757, it was not completed until 1791, at which point it was decided to use the basilica to house the remains of great French men. It briefly entertained a role as a church in 1806, but was converted back into a civic building in 1885.

It's certainly an impressive building with its Greek cross layout and Corinthian columns in the portico. I thought it was interesting to see both the ecclesiastical and secular influences coming together as well. Lauren and I were both entertained by possibly the most incensed biblical figure that either of us had ever seen depicted in one of the mosaics.

The Pantheon also houses Foucault's Pendulum, an experiment in 1851 Jean Bernard Léon Foucault which proved that the world spins around its axis.

We also ventured down into the crypt where all of those famous French men are buried. Unfortunately all of the information was in French, and I'm a bit behind on my French history, so recognizing names was about the extent of what I could do. I'd like to go back and make a list of them all so I could look up their accomplishments and significance in history (and thus figure out what I need to do to get buried there, aside from being French and a man...).

Lauren also made the discovery that one of the rooms was actually a whisper hall, where you could stand on opposite sides and whisper something which could be heard by the other party, but not by someone in the middle. Apparently John Quincy Adams was well known for using the acoustics in the National Statuary Hall of the White House, which has the same structure, to eavesdrop on other members conversing across the hall.

Alas, we needed to get back and get Lauren on her way. Luckily the weather had held so far that day, which gave a nice view towards the Eiffel Tower as we walked out of the Pantheon.

We headed back to the apartment (perhaps stopping at a patisserie along the way), got Lauren packed up, and she headed out the door... just as it started raining. I decided to see if it would just blow by and took the opportunity to send a few emails I'd been neglecting. However the weather didn't really improve much the rest of the evening, so I simply took my book to a nearby brasserie for dinner, some reading, and a glass of wine, then headed back to the apartment to call it a somewhat early night. Well, early for what I would expect of visiting Paris, about normal for what my nights are usually like in Vienna these days!