Being a Sunday, it was a bit crowded. There was really only one circular path that could be taken through the crowds and it skirted pews and pews of people taking Mass. Listening to a French liturgy was quite enjoyable, and the service added another dimension to some rather stunning glass and sculpture. I don’t think my photo of the Rose Window can do it justice, but I shall try:
Lucy disappeared into the pews, and I made it my business to check out every corner in the massive building. One of my favourite finds was the educational display into how the cathedral was made:
The scale models underlined why it took almost 200 years to finish the cathedral (c1345, if you’re interested), and gave real pause for thought as I explored the rest of the complex.
My tour didn’t get as far as the towers and gargoyles, as I figured these were shut during services. As it turned out, it was just that we’d arrived too early for normal tourists, so hadn’t seen the queue at the side of the cathedral that gave the whole thing away.
Alack, I was over the whole cathedral thing by then and it was time to venture towards the Bastille.
Our wandering took us off the island, over the Seine and into Saint Germain de Pres. Although it certainly had a funky feel, there wasn’t much of a ‘Left Bank’ hurrah going on. Instead, it was just more gentle strolling in the sunshine. One hundred and forty three families on electric bicycles with baguettes in their backpacks passed us by as we made our way towards the site where the French Revolution began. It is now (a la Le Arc) an enormous roundabout, and was too boring for even a photograph.
Thus, we paid far more attention to this fifteen-piece funk band. They were cool. I have their internet address somewhere…:
Their stage was one end of a market, so we bravely ventured forth to practice our French and stock up on bread, meat and cheese (which smelt like dead people). We munched on that as I got us completely lost somewhere in northern Paris. That was a bit stressful.
Fortunately, there was a metro nearby, and we were soon back on course for the Place des Vosges. This trendy little square was built in 1612, and is the first example of European town planning. The gardens were suffering a bit from winter, so the chocolatiers lining the streets fore and aft were of much greater notice. As was the Picasso Museum – where we spent about forty minutes. It is small but a good stop in a wander though an interesting neighbourhood:
The sandwiches and chocolate had worn off by now, so Lucy and I were hungry and getting a bit grumpy. Amazingly, we found an organic restaurant that served lots of wholefoods and dairy-free options for those unable to eat dead people cheese (i.e. moi). It doesn’t look like much, but this place served the kind of food I dream of eating on a night out:
Being in a rather expensive part of Paris, the floor space is so precious that the tables sit next to each other. It was rather intimate, but quite fun. (Organic red wine helped!)
Lucy said the coffee was some of the best she’s had, and I am sure the energy kick stood her in good stead for our last stop of the day…. Which I will write about in my next post.
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