Cathedrals, Churches, and Corpses

What does a nice little Jewish girl do on a Sunday morning in Paris? Go to Mass at Notre Dame, of course. Mass was not very exciting, crowded, and full of tourists who got to walk around the in the cathedral while Mass was going on. Thus, going to Mass was definitely not worth it. Also, exterior of Notre Dame = amazing. Interior, not so much. I have seen more glorious, as I will get to in a future post. However, I met Claudia (it was her last day in Paris) in a very long line to climb up to the top to be, as my friend Nikki likes to say, Quasimodo. That was definitely worth it. The gargoyles are so neat and varied, and the big bell, not the one we all know from the book, but a big bell was on display. Good times had by all, including the gargoyle sticking his tongue out at the world. Said adios to Claudia and meandered through the St. Severin area into numerous churches, taking hundreds of pictures of buttressing. (You know you want to be that person to see all my pictures, right?)

Decided to walk up to the Pantheon, but first came across the gorgeous St. Genevieve. (Yes, she is there.) Really neat spiral staircases inside. Was tricked into going up into the Dome of the Pantheon, which I really had no desire to do. I thought you had to go on the tour to get to the tombs, but apparently I got a view, another view, of Paris instead. Lovely. Saw the Pendulum...clearly the Earth rotates. And saw lots of tombs in the basement of Marie Curie, Zola, Dumas, Rousseau, etc. Said my bonjours and met Courtney by the book carts on the Siene. Ate dinner again in our favorite area (truly, it's a great few streets!) and decided to conquer the Eiffel Tower!

OK, so we got in the first line at around 8:20 or so. It's a beautiful structure, especially when the sky is that saturated blue tinged with sunset pinks and oranges. The silouhettes are amazing. (See pictures...which will go up for sure!) We decided that even though I have prided myself in climbing up large monuments, the 1500 stairs to the top was a little much. We waited in the first line for tickets. Then we waited for the first elevator. By the time we got to the second balcony, the lines went all the way around the viewing platform in two directions. OK, we chose one and stood there for quite a long time, finally getting to the second elevator to the top. By this time, it was well after 11PM. Courtney then turns to me and says, "The Metro closes at midnight...we might not make it...and taxis are too expensive." What? "Yeah, we might not make it down on time to get home...so we'd have to walk." Um...what? OK, whatever, good, happy thoughts. So we ascend to the top and have a wonderful time overlooking Paris in a glittering tower of iron.

Getting down can't be much of a hassle, right? Wrong! The chaotic masses, with no rhyme or reason to a line, was crushing up against walls and elevators to get down...which I took, when Courtney kept saying that we wouldn't make the metro, to mean that everyone was trying to get to a stop before it closed. About 11:57PM, we are spat out of the last elevator and we start running to a station. The first station is closed for construction. I don't know why I was freaking out at this point...but I was. It didn't make sense that the last trains should leave at midnight, when in Boston they leave at 12:30, which everyone thinks it very early. Well, there is absolute chaos trying to get tickets and get down into the station. Courtney was going one way with one connection, I another with two. All the people, the crowds, the craziness...I assumed that yes, the Paris metro must close at 12. As we barrel past my first stop (again, closed for construction), I start to panic when I realize that my next route requires three changes, two of which are no where near my hostel. Great. Just as long as I don't get locked into a station...hopefully?

I get off at the first station and realize that the connection is in fact at the next station which is connected by at least a one mile tunnel underground. Other people are started to run. Never a good sign. So I start to run...faster...and faster...until I'm at full speed darting around other people and breathing pretty hard. I might be in better shape than I was at the beginning of the trip, but certainly not enough for a mile run at sprinting speed. I make my first connection...lucky I thought...and got to my second, only to find that that was another few miles away underground to a connecting station. So I run! At this point, I am bright red, sweating, and wheezing, not to mention exhausted from the day, so I think I was wheezing aloud, "Don't leave me behind!" I was getting some strange looks, but I chocked that up to my looking stupid running full speed. Just as I get to the second connection, I bump into someone who says, in English, "Slow down! The Metro doesn't close until 1!" Why I screamed back this, I don't know. "No! You're wrong! It closes at midnight! I have to keep running!" I make my second connection and see that in fact there are two more trains at least coming after mine. It was 12:30. Hmmm. I get to my third connection, another long jog, and when I get there, there are at least two more trains coming after mine. Still red and sweaty, I arrive at the hostel and ask the guy at the desk, "When does the Metro close?" "1AM or 2." It was 12:40...

Needless to say, I slept well and started off a bit late on a day trip out of Paris to Chartres. Unfortunately, it was raining, but all the better to set the mood for a dark stoned, looming cathedral. Chartres Cathedral is amazing, inside and out. I had studied it in a Gothic Cathedrals class and I remembered studying each stained glass window and the statuary programs. After circumventing the cathedral in the rain, I decided to head back to Paris to another cathedral, St. Denis, the burying ground for almost all the kings and queens of France. Another amazing cathedral in itself, but monumental tombs galore. All the Louis, Catherine d'Medici, Marie Antoinette, and my favorite...Dagobert! He is there! Amazing. I found it really interesting that many of the couples had themselves portrayed naked in marble laying down, and then again, clothed in bronze above. Courtney tells me this is to show their rich and pious souls separating from their earthly bodies and rising to Heaven with all of their glory. Intense.

Left the cathedrals for the day to go to a museum, the Pompidou Center. Built by Renzo Piano and Richard Rogers in 1977, this hugely controversial museum of modern art sports its color coded "guts," or pipes and airducts, on the outside along with a five storey glass escalator for views at the top. I agree...the building not only doesn't fit the skyscape in any way, even a modern way, and it isn't...nice. Yeah, that's all I'll say about it. Also, modern art...not my thing, as we all know. So when I came across 4 white canvii on a wall, I died laughing. Thank goodness it was closing time and the guards ushered me out for other reasons than insanity. I did see, Josh, your favorite room with all the padding and the piano. Apparently the gimmick with this piece is that the room is supposed to be so silent that it hurts. The piano symbolizes the potential for sound, but there should be no sound except for a painful buzzing in the ears. Apparently, also, no one told the curator that, so they now have an exhibit in the room outside with a TV that plays clips of ambulances and a surround sound system blaring emergency sirens. Painful, yes. What the silent piece's artist had in mind, no.

Meandered back to the St. Severin area and ate at a lovely bistro. Didn't talk to the other person who was alone next to me until dessert when she realized that I didn't speak French. We were both under the assumption that the other spoke French and didn't want to say anything. Had a great conversation with her about world travel, and then parted to go back to the hostel. I am still not sick of cathedrals...bring 'em on!