A Few Final "Peeks" on a Last Day
Avoidance of the stereotypical has been a goal on this European leg of the trip, but Notre Dame is just too great a structure to pass up, even though I’ve been inside as least half a dozen times. If you look for the details, there are some interesting features, beyond the gargoyles.
One of my favorite church statues of all time surfs the crease in the cross shaped roof. The architect had a great sense of humor to allow one of the fixed rooftop humanoids to be in the throws of loosing his balance, as if he actually just might slip to his demise right on the pavement below.
Inside, and below the surfing saint, is one of two massive and opposing rose windows. The deep tone of this particular stained glass production is another element adding to Notre Dames prominence.
In a side chapel, a stone monk kneels in prayer.
The Gothic design and supporting flying buttresses, allow the center corridor to soar, seemingly under-supported by the slim stone columns.
This quirky angled shot emphasizes the main hall’s rising face. It is hard to believe this edifice was once used as a barn and was almost torn down.
The hard coble stone square of the Pompidou Center has been the resting place of my now sore derrière, so that e-mails and blogging could take place, …
… compliments of the art center’s free outside WIFI service.
These little sisters were too cute, enjoying the open square and air of the late afternoon.
One final pass by the appeal of this symmetrical cathedral and a picture had to be taken in the perfect waning afternoon light.
Ok, how about two pictures.
Leaving this visual “happy place” I headed to Gare du Nord to reserve a seat for tomorrow’s train ride to Bilbao. It’s too bad that pictures weren’t taken because the next two hours were a comedy of inefficiency. First, I stood for half an hour in a line and after approaching the window discovered that it was just for metro train tickets/information, not international travels. Fair enough, my bad…
So after waiting in the proper line for another 45 minutes, I just couldn’t wait any longer and ran off to increase my patience longevity, if you know what I mean. So, after re-entering the line, at the end, there is a single French couple in front of me and they went to the only “English Speaking” window of the ten available. The other windows refuse to “try” to serve me. So I have to wait for 35 minutes while the line behind me diminishes to nothing but frustrated English speakers. Finally, I try another French speaking window and through writing and hand gestures we get the idea across and a reservation is issued for tomorrow morning. Leaving the station, the French couple was still stymieing the “English Speaking” window. All they needed to do was wait two minutes for one of many French speaking windows and the quay of English speakers wouldn’t have needlessly been held captive.
Frustrated, the idea of walking to the top of Montmartre sounded like the perfect salve. Unfortunately, I manage to take a wrong turn and end up on the other side of the hill, after a good hour’s walk. Climbing the elevation, I see a shop for Vietnamese noodles and it was like a sign from heaven. Walking into the restaurant, struggling with French to order, the owner clearly said, “We can speak English if you like.” My smile was so broad and the relief so evident that he laughed and then we both laughed out loud.
Energized by the Pho and fun conversations over dinner, Sacre-coeur was in easy reach for pictures and hopefully a clearer view of the Eiffel Tower than a few days before.
Sacre-coeur rose from the darkness.
And, the Eiffel Tower sparkled distantly in the slightly better weather.
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