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Published: August 24th 2006
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Geverny - Paris (Train)
29 July No one in Paris speaks English. In an effort to navigate your way through the city you mumble a poor attempt at speaking some simple French from your frantic decoding of the pronunciation hints in your travel phrase book (which will in fact sound nothing like any word of French ever spoken). You will then find that Parisians can suddenly recall enough (clear and perfectly formed - although ‘eavily accented) English to berate you for how poorly you spoke. And - you are probably personally responsible for the demise of French as the international language of diplomacy. Finally, we got our metro ticket and headed toward our accommodation.
Montmartre did look much nicer in the film ‘Amelie’. They certainly did not shoot any scenes on the street onto which we exited from the metro. The heavy police presence gave some comfort (or measure of the trouble). We trudged up to the 1-star hotel for our basic double as close to the city centre as you can get for under 50 Euro. A short ride on the metro for a few stops and the street scape transforms as we emerge behind the Notre Dame
near Ste Chapelle. Turn right, walk past the Conciergerie (the old fort palace of Paris), cross the Seine River to its right bank and then turn left. Pass the small second hand book wooden-box stalls and we are standing at the front entrance to the Louvre (not the glass pyramid side - that was out the back). Walking through the grounds toward the entrance (which is actually in the iconic glass pyramid) toward more tourists than there should be thanks to ‘The Da Vinci Code’ (book or film version - they both end lamely).
The halls of the Musée du Louvre are immense: weaving passages lead into high ceiling rooms filled with masterpieces and artefacts. The famous pieces are still something special, no matter how many times you see it in the media and even if you are herded along a hall to stand at the feet of Venus De Milo and funnelled into the viewing barricades around The Mona Lisa. We cross the Seine to a converted railway station - now housing the Musee d’Orsay - for an impressive collection of impressionist works by artist such as Monet, Cézanne, Renoir, Pissaro and Van Gough. There are also sculpture
works by the likes of Rodin and Gauguin.
Even with weary legs from the accumulating kilometres walking the lengths of long galleries in only two of Paris’ famous museums, it was still worthwhile to climb the stairs of Basilique du Sacré Cœur. From the highest point of Montmartre we looked back over the city as rain fell. After the brief shower then walked the café lined streets toward Pigalle that were once lively - filled with artists and cabaret performers but now see mostly weary tourists like us looking for a set menu at a reasonable price. The stroll back to our hotel, over the hill is a little more Amelie.
If our previous theme for a day in Paris was Museums and masterpieces, then this day’s theme was monuments. The Ste Chapelle, now housed in Palais de Justice building and was previously part of the old royal palace is astounding. It is even more incredible to discover that this small chapel where we stood encircled by intricate stain glass windows had been designed with the intention to draw your eye toward the altar, above which housed the most valuable of relics: what was believed to be the
crown of thorns supposedly worn by Jesus. This relic was a symbol which held France in high esteem with the Vatican; the power that the Catholic Church had over Europe in the 13th century.
The 14th Century Gothic spires of the Notre Dame with its stained glass rose window and ornate flying buttresses (flying buttresses is probably the best architectural feature description ever) are familiar to me from an old black and white film. I almost expect to see a small, disfigured man climbing the bell tower. Crossing over to the right bank, we wander along the Champs Elysées past the stacked barricades from the Tour de France finale the week before and the shopping strip. At its end is the Arc de Triomphe, a monument documenting the imperial victories of France during Napoleon’s reign. The name of each city in which the French army were victorious was inscribed on the Arc. It is telling of the small generals reach across this continent, reading like a tick list of places visited from a backpacker’s European travel blog.
The rain shower cleared long enough for us to wait in the long line for tickets to ascent 300 metres in
one of the elevators on the legs and then up the centre spire of the Eiffel Tower. Standing now for 117 years, the French must be pleased they did not dismantle this prominent monument only 20 years after it was constructed for the 1889 World Fair. I am too.
Many say they fell immediately in love with Paris. I feel an alluring curiosity to this city that I know it still holds so much that I have yet seen. I know we will return here - even a number of times and it may prove to be an enduring admiration - especially if I can master the phrase book.
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Fletch
non-member comment
Beer?
What? no pictures featuring beer just to tease us?