We woke up @ 7:30 to get an early start on the day. You know, make up for yesterday, beat the crowds, etc etc. A quick and by-now standard breakfast at the hotel later and we set out for Notre Dame, with the goal of climbing the tower before the line grew uncontrollably.
The trip from our hotel to Notre Dame was eventful in-and-of itself. We took the metro to our transfer, and then walked in circles until we realized it didn't connect because of track construction (thank goodness the notice had pictures). But they had a shuttle bus that got us close so we made it, just a little later than anticipated. And I finally found a Milton quote that fit: "confounded Chaos roared, / And felt tenfold confusion in their fall / Through his wild Anarchy." That's almost exactly Parisian subways during construction, even the locals had trouble figuring out where we should go.
By this time the line to climb was pretty long, and my parents were a little frazzled, so we just took the free tour (no line) of Notre Dame instead. It's big inside. Pretty too. I'd say larger interior volume than MSM, but less pretty, and far less awesome. Because it was a holy day, we also got to see mass while we toured, which gave it a surreal feel - we took pictures of stained glass windows while opposite a velvet rope a bishop bishoped.
After a few minutes debating it was decided that we'd get in line and do the tower while we were here (Woooo! That was very near the top of my France list). Us boys stood in line where our parents went out to buy multi-museum-passes. That way we didn't have to pay separately for the climb and saved a few Euro. Which is important, as it's becoming rapidly apparent to me that we are the poorest well-off people I know. Not always a bad thing, but neither always a good thing. After about an hour of talking to the Floridians in front of us and various excursions by various members of our party we finally got in to the tower and immediately upwards. We waited in a holding room / gift shop with an amazing lacework spiral staircase, and then headed up to the first level. After quite a while in a (non-lacework) spiral staircase we stepped out on to the roof of the main chapel, eye-level with the gargoyles and on-level with the bell towers.
We took a few pictures and admired the view of the inside of the courtyards when we were given a hurry-up: they were going to be closing the access to see the big bell in less than five minutes. 25+/22+/18+ years of traveling with this family had taught us well, and we all set off at top-speed, melting through the crowd and toward the bell-tower. Past a small door and up some rickety wooden steps was Emmanuel, their largest bell at just over 13 tons. It was rung only on special occasions, but today was a holy day and we were in luck. We quickly took a few pictures and went to wait outside to experience the fabled F (Plain f, though the boat tour said f#) in all it's rolling glory. It was loud. Not F1 loud or rock-concert-loud, but still loud. We listened to it as it was joined by bells in the sister tower until they gradually faded out. Even more fascinating than feeling the gonging blows in your chest was watching the carillion move: the wooden structure ("Absolutely No Smoking!") within the stone tower flexed and swayed several inches with each swing of the bell.
Our musical interlude over, we headed up to the top of the bell tower, stuck our head out the mesh, took in the view, and headed down a dizzying amount of spiral steps. Spinning while descending can help if you hit it just right, but if (/when) you misjudge the rotation it can also make you much dizzier.
Done with Notre Dame, we headed onward to another church, Sainte Chapelle, conveniently close. Our magic multi-pass let us skip the line and we headed into the lower of the two churches, a beautifully carved and painted room. It was a startling contrast to Notre Dame, one that only increased as we ascended a short spiral staircase to the upper church, which was more an excuse to abuse vibrant colors in glass and paint than anything else. There were a baker's dozen stained glass windows, all set with scores of scenes each, telling bible stories in lead and glass.
Done, for now, with churches we headed off to the Louve. We grabbed lunch (uninspiring hotdogs almost saved by the baguettes they came in) and ate on the banks of the river and made our way in. The Lourve is huge. We came in the back entrance and tried to find a shortcut... which ended up being the members-only entrance after my mom sweet-talked the guard. In French. I was impressed too.
Th
e Lourve was also chaos, but this chaos flowed. By flowing with the chaos we made our way from beneath the glass pyramid up two levels to the Mona Lisa, which is, in person, less enticing than in the pictures. It's certainly an experience though, and she does have an intriguing smile, but go for the people-watching more than for a look at something better seen in reproductions. I'd steal different art for myself, such as Antonio Corradin's Femme Voilée, a statue of a woman wearing a veil so well-carved it was hard to believe he hadn't chiseled transparency into marble. We briefly looked at some of the paintings we recognized (some by Suzanne Valadon, a few portraits of Napolean, and straight from my Euro textbook Liberty Leading her People), then we went through the statue hall to see Venus de Milo, which is another statue more famous for the stories around it - dating from ~120BC but discovered by a peasant in 1870 - than for being outstanding (at least, outstanding within a room of masterpieces). While we were there I figured we might as well see everything they looted from Egypt, so we speed-walked past some sweet sphinxes and Ramses II, pausing occasionally to admire. The palace itself is gorgeous, let alone everything in it. We didn't do it justice at all.
After the Lourve our legs were prettymuch dead... but we never let that stop us before, so why start now? On to Napoleon's Tomb! Our path brought us in the museum side, so we wandered through looking at literally several hundred cannons. Also guns, 15? suits of armor that Louis the 13th had growing up (that could almost nestle Russian-doll style), swords, samurai armor, and assorted stabbing and slashing implements. My favorite part was a cannon five meters long - almost a rifle for cannon balls. Mom liked the intricate brass cannons bought from Algiers in 1870 and immediately placed in the museum, covered muzzle to tail delicate script. The rest of the boys... were standing around too much, so I'll just make up some stuff... Um, the Silver-inlaid rifles for Adam, the pre-ww2 tank for Ethan, and the horse-armor (vaguely dragonesque) for Dad. Good choices, all of you.
Once the more museumly-inclined caught up with us we went to the other side to check out Napoleon's Tomb itself. It was awe-inspiring. I need to get myself disowned by my country and then poisoned so that they'll take over a church for me.
Where as the other churches today went overly-simple or overly-complex, Napoleon's tomb struck a balance that made it all the more pleasing. The stained glass windows were single, strong colors, lighting certain caskets blue and throwing an orange radiance onto the black-marble-and-gold altar. The paintings were large enough to see clearly, and few enough that one could admire each of them without them feeling stale... and the casket was grandiose as only Napoleon could pull off. His body was in a tin casket, which was then layered successively out to seven layers ending in a huge block of red-velvet marble, looking like a fancy squat bathtub with a cover, only large enough to contain a car, or two of the little French cars. All this on an equally large block of green marble, on a marble floor set with names of battles he won, surrounded by 12' statues of Grecian goddesses watching over him. My awe was inspired.
By this time we had walked somewhat near to the hotel, and we needed dinner, so we kept on towards base with our eyes open for a good place to eat. About two blocks from home we found a great place and had a great dinner like we weren't poor! Steak, lamb, chicken, crepes, and half a bottle of wine took away the pain in our legs and reinvigorated us to finish strong. So instead of the hotel, we set off for the metro, transferred to another train, and all the timing was perfect and construction elsewhere. We came up at the traffic circle surrounding the Arc de Triomphe, walked the long way around, took the underground passageway, and set off up the - want to guess? - spiral staircase. This was an open spiral though, which kept it novel and made for interesting photos (and an attempt by Ethan to slide all the way down it later).
At the top we had our best views yet of the Eiffel tower, the arc de office-building , and tower cranes. We're lucky I'm afraid of French prison. After taking in the sites and taking the requisite photos I started videotaping traffic, hoping someone would crash. No one did, but not for trying - traffic within the circle has to yield to entering traffic, so the side streets will shoot in. Combined with a lack of clear lanes and kamikaze bikes makes for a lot of fun. We did spot some sweet cars though. A Murcielago, a brand new top-of-the-line Ferrari, Maserati, Morgan, Lotus, lots of Porches and a surprising number of Aston Martins. That made up for the ticket price (if we had paid it instead of skipping the line with our magic-passes) in itself.
The final scheduled activity was a stroll down the Champs-Élysée. We stopped in a few stores... ok, two stores: Peugot, who had a sweet beach-buggy-warthog-thing, and Mercedes, who had a SLS in matte gray that was stunning, as all SLS are.
Eventually the road stopped going downhill and we decided enough was enough and hopped on the metro (for free, thanks to ticket machines skipping into I'm-confused-so-ride-free mode) for a quick trip back to the hotel. Me and Adam went out to see the Eiffel Tower dance, had a few beers ("How much?" "3 euro." "How about two euro?" "Two for five?" "Two for four?" "Ok! Two... for five."), bought a glowing helicopter toy (black light LEDs, a rubber band, and UV blades), and, together with the canadians nearby, played with it. It was much more fun than it should be.
Today we walked over 6 miles, plus waiting in lines and climbing steps. Join us tomorrow when I will attempt to discover how much Tylenol one can take in a former royal palace.
All photos except the last two by Ethan.
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