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| Notre Dame Cathedral |
We flew in to fields of
green and cloudy skies. Customs was prompt and we were out into a
white knuckle taxi ride through the highways and byways into Paris. French
drivers are a different breed. Ours skirted inches between other
cars that weaved or cut each other off, jutting to and fro like ants condensed
into a small hole.
Driving is definitely an
exercise in anarchy,,, with close calls, no lanes and lots of uses of the horn.
When presented in a street with an impasse of two cars, neither will
yield until another comes, and then hope that one or the other gives up their
game of “chicken.”
We unfortunately noticed
lots of trash and graffiti on the way, and there was a good deal in the city itself.
The Parisians as a
whole seem to turn a blind eye to litter and graffiti as a whole, which is a
little confusing given the pride they have when speaking of their
city. We arrived at the Hotel D’Orsay only too glad to get out
of the Taxi. Unfortunately the rooms were not ready, so we decided
to seize the moment and walk towards the River Seine and Notre Dame Cathedral.
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| Seine River and the Louvre |
From the start, Paris
feels ancient yet modern with its stone facades and rich statues. Flowing
water is everywhere, be it the river or in fountains or drinking fonts that
sprout like oasis amid the hustle and bustle. Even the gutters
flow with water to clear away debris. Most of the buildings have a
very austere appearance that seems turn of the century, with rounded edges or
tops and flat bottoms with shops in them. Parking is a premium, and
most places have very heavy security doors even on the highest levels.
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| Rue de Lille, our Hotel Street |
We walked by the Musee
D’orsay, a beautiful art nouveau structure that is a former train station
turned museum. The streets along the Seine are impossibly
crowded. Both sidewalk and street itself are jam packed, be it with
cars or people and sometimes both. Perhaps my memory of Japan is dim
now, because I do remember crowded places there but not every place and all the
time like what we experienced throughout Paris in the days to follow.
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| Padlocks on the Ponts des Arts |
We passed the famous (or
infamous if you’re a Parisien) Ponts des Arts bridge, with thousands of locks
nestled one atop the other on the chain link fence. I am not sure
the purpose of these, but supposedly you buy one, make a promise, and then toss
the key into the river after locking the thing on the bridge. These
locks are a common problem on chain link fences throughout Paris, but the Pont
des Arts is where it started.
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| Pont Des Arts, looking toward the Louvre |
We eventually emerged
out and faced the huge and imposing wings of the Louvre on the opposite
bank. I don’t know what my picture of the Louvre was before,
but I had no idea how big it was until I saw it that first time. We
followed it for half an hour and still had only passed just one wing on the
outside. The tall roofs and spires were very different from every
other structure, holding their own grand presence and power.
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| First glance at Notre Dame |
Before long though, we
emerged out from the busy streets and into a huge courtyard of stone. There
before me, standing tall and proud, was Lady Notre Dame, the great gray matron
of Paris and France itself. From the offset, the lady takes the
breath away. She is huge yet somehow graceful with her two
bell towers and rising buttresses. The bells were ringing,
deep intoned clangs from the auspices of the towers themselves and we stood to
listen for a few minutes.
The lines to get in were rather long, so we avoided them at first to make our
way to the Jewish Quarter of Paris which flanks the island where Notre Dame
sits on her ancient pedestal. Here was a very different feel, more
compact and concise with shops that sold Torahs and yamacas and
menorahs. The French here was mixed with Hebrew lettering, and
we closed in immediately to one of the best Lamb Schwarmas I have ever eaten in
my life.
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| Wonderful food in the Jewish Quarter |
I think Anthony Bourdain once said something to the effect of, “when in doubt,
go to the place with the longest line.” Well the line was out
the door, around the corner and up the street when we arrived at L'as du
Fallafel.
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| If only pictures had taste... |
Thankfully we didn’t
have to wait, because it was just the take out line, though the inside was just
as jam packed. We sat at a little table and ordered lemonade while
savoring subline sauces which we dipped our French fries and scharma sandwiches
into. Then, tired but satiated, we weaved back around
the rear of the Cathedral proper.
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| Notre Dame's north side |
From behind, Notre Dame is more rounded, pushing her
windows to a break in the seine with a small garden and font. The towers and spires here rise like little
spines on the back of a porcupine, making the front look like flat horns on an
ox. The line inside was swift enough,
though we had to pass the beggars and swindlers hoping for a handout or
careless pockets. Thankfully they left
us alone and I stood before the doorway to the cathedral.
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| Bells at Notre Dame |
