Can I Keep It?

Nous Allons a Versailles

Gah!  Things have conspired to keep me from journaling my trip to Paris!  Zoe's had an edema problem in her cancerous leg.  She's fine.  The leg weighs about fifteen pounds, though.  I wish I were being hyperbolic.  *sigh*  Poor baby.  She's happy and still chases the ball every morning.  She's my hero these days.

Back to our regularly scheduled blog post.

We got directions from our concierge.  We'd never travelled the RER.  Funny.  It's not like the regular Metro. There are monitors to tell you which train to take, but all of them go to different destinations.  Long story short, we got on the wrong train.  Humph.  But fortunately, we found a couple from Brazil who spoke english, headed to Versailles as well!

Our saviours, Raphael and Mariana!

They got us to our destination.  Well, after having to ask several other travellers.  Really.  How many foreigners does it take to navigate the RER?  Yeah.  Four.  It takes four.

Versailes!

It took a whie to get in, as do all the great sites of Paris at Christmas.  We got in the queue with the other tourists.  In the rain.  And trudged forward, delighting in the beautiful ironwork, statues and facade of Versailles.

You know, everywhere we went in Paris, we heard a rustling of

"Bacon et Oeufs!" all around us. Heeee.

IT took a while to get to the front gates to pass through the doors...

And finally, we were in!  And oh, was it glorious.

Really.  I'm going to have our entry remodeled like this.  Too much?

And that's when we were told we couldn't use flash.  Hud was unfamiiar with my little camera.  It took him a bit to figure out how to get the flash off.  Don't ask me.  I know it's my camera.  But I have a shake in my hand from nerve damage so I keep it on this one setting that captures natural light and does a flash.  So we don't have any more from the interior.  Oops. Pretend it's the Reign of Terror, we've come to Versailes, but it's already been looted by the rabble. Quelle dommage!

But Hud figured it out by the time we got to the Trianons, so you'll just have to wait.  Marie Antoinette and Louis had some nice digs.

Il Pluie

Okay, so that afternoon, we took the Metro all the way out to Pere Lachaise Cemetary.  What?  Lots of famous folks are buried there and I love a good cemetary.  Along the way we ran into this fish market in the middle of nowhere with all of this gorgeous product.

It included a fresh fuit and vegetable stand.  Your basic one stop shopping.  I wished that I had a kitchen. Hmmph.

So we march from the Metro in the rain to the front gates...

And we're turned away.  They close in the rain.  Something about limbs falling off of a specific tree.  Yes, we were turned away from the cemetary so we wouldn't die being crushed by a tree limb.

We tried walking around to explore a bit, but it was so miserable with the spitting rain and the jet lag finally catching up, that we turned around.  We back to our little home at the Etoile Troccadero and took a much needed nap.  We were going to need it!

Tomorrow we go to Versailles!

Sacre Coeur de Montmartre

The next day, we decided to climb to the tallest heights in Paris to view the city.  

We made our way by Metro to Montmartre, exited, wound our way up a busy narrow street and when we cleared it, were greeted by this:

Sacre Coeur!

So we took our picture with it.

After that, we climbed the stairs...

And were greeted by this guy.  Posing as a statue.  He liked my scarf.

 Then we turned for the most amazing panoramas of Paris.

 We started out in the Catacombs.

The Pieta by Jules Coutan

 There were several important archbishops buried in the Crypt.  Well, at least bits of their bones were interred in beautiful wooden vignettes for you to see.  Out of respect, I didn't photo them for you.  It just seemed wrong somehow.  But here's the giant statue of one of them.

There were lovely surprises behind every turn.

 The church is a beautiful one, but cannot compare to the grandeur of Sainte Chappelle.

So we made our way to see what we came to Sacre Coeur to see!  We mounted the tiny spiral staircase.  Up and up and up until we could finally get satisfaction.

Not even close to the summit.  We climbed.  Past the downspouts.

And the roof tops.

Higher.  And higher.  Until this:

In every direction, the city of Paris!

And this.  This saint stomping on an alligator.  Still have no idea.

Not a dragon.  An alligator.  Huh?

Finally, drunk on the views and altitude sickness, we started the descent.

Or rather the ascent to the descent.  

 At long last, we made our way out to the many Christmas Markets that spring up at the base of every tourist site in  the city.  But they can't be compared to our Christmas markets.  Oh, no.  

Unless yours have caviar, champagne and fresh oysters.  Yes.  This is the caviar vendor.  As you do. We walked around back where the nuns stay.

And on around to a little garden across the street from Sacre Coeur.

And back to the front to head for the Metro.

 

We thought we'd head over to Pere Lachaise to visit Oscar Wilde, Colette and Jim Morrison.

 

 

 

Apres la Cathedrale

After soaking in the beauty all morning, we went for a stroll on the Ile de La Cite, right on the banks of the Seine.

Yes.  I wanted to touch the seagulls, but I refrained.We came up at this bridge.

At Notre Dame!  It was all decorated for its 850th anniversary.  That's right.  The old gal looks pretty good for 850, doesn't she? There was an enormous platform staged on the park in front of the portals.  The crowds were teeming about it by noon. 

I'm not sure about the significance of the holiday football goal at the entry.  We passed on to the park at the other end.   

And made our way out to the bridge of lovers, to the right of park.  And ran into a couple posing on their wedding day.

We looked for the lock we left last year, but couldn't find it.  We vowed to come back and put a new one someplace more conspicuous. 

And made our way to the Rive Gauche.  The Left Bank is always a surprise.  It goes from deserted medieval narrow streets...

To a bustling tourist center.

We were getting a bit peckish, so we nosed around and found this place:

When the owner saw us eyeing his wares, he popped right out and invited us in.  

 

And we happily obiliged. 

After a delicious lunch, we stumbled back out into the streets to browse some more.  And admired all of the Christmas decorations.

Note to self: Copy this next year.  You can swap his gear out to Mardi Gras after the Epiphany.

I could roam the streets of the Left bank for days.

But the day was winding down.  

So we made our way back in the dark.  Past Notre Dame, to the Metro and the Troccadero to see the Eiffel Tower lit up at night. Back to the Etoile to rest up for tomorrow's journey to Sacre Coeur. 

The Most Beautiful Cathedral in the World

Is Sainte Chapelle.  

It was started in 1239 by Louis IX to house his collection of Passion relics, including the Crown of Thorns.  Two thirds of the stained glass are original.  Though the relics and the glass that was lost happened during the French Revolution.  

The ceilings are weightless, despite the heavily encrusted decorations.  They soar.

Every square inch is covered in glorious hand painting, gilt and glass.

The cathedral is actually two chapels, on placed on top of the other.  You enter through the lower, more intimate chapel and take a winding staircase up to the larger grand chapel above. The one with the glorious stained glass.  

Hud was agog.  Gobsmacked. Googly eyed.

The windows were undergoing a painstakingly tedious cleaning and restoration.

Giddy with beauty, we exited at long last and headed for the Palais de la Cite, now known as the Conciergerie.  It's the Palaceof Justice. Robespierre jailed hudreds there during the Reign of Terror. Final home for the likes of Marie-Antoinette and Madame du Barry.  Robespierre himself spent some time there before his own death. It was known as the antechamber to the guillotine.

And of course, I had to strike a pose.

I know what you're thinking.  Is her scarf bacon and eggs?  Yes.  Yes, it is.  All across Paris, we heard, "Bacon et oeufs!  Bacon et oeufs!"  I wore it to Gatlinburg to visit my friend, Vicky and we heard it there, too.  Only the french were too polite to stop and ask me about it. Mostly.  In Gatlinburg, we could barely get five feet without being stopped. Actually, anywhere I wear it that happens.  So before you ask.  It's by a San Francisco artist, named Twinkie Chan.  She does food based crochet items like cupcake hats, ice cream hair bows and slice of pizza scarves.  But only wear them if you want attention.  Lots of it!

The best item in the palace was a miniature of the Ile de la Cite.  Made of gold.  Perhaps Sainte Chapelle has ruined me.  

But it is a rather understated regal builing in and of itself.

And I've decided that right after I remodel our bedroom after Sainte Chapelle, we're having the gates for the Palace of Justice made for Schyterbolle.

For their understated elegance, of course.

Surprise!

Officially making him the best husband on the planet, Hud surprised me on our wedding anniversary with another trip to Paris! I KNOW.  We spent Christmas Day in Paris.  Well, barely.  We were scheduled to arrive by six in the morning but fate and dire cockup got in the way of those plans.

Upon returning to the States, somebody asked me how we enjoyed our trip.  I said it was like a sandwich cookie.  The cookie outside was rotten, but the creamy Parisien middle was delicious.  Oh, sweet Baby Jesus in a horse trough, the airlines were out to get us.

The airlines told us that we had a direct flight from Memphis to Charles DeGaulle Airport.  Liars.  You know that old southern joke that when you die in the South, it doesn't matter weather you're going to heaven or hell because your connections will have to go through Atlanta?  Yeah.  We went to Atlanta.  Changed planes.  And proceded to sit on the tarmac for two hours with mechanical trouble.  Several people were concerned that they would miss their connections, but the flight attendants reassured them that the pilot could make the time up in the air.  About half way through the flight, a woman became ill.  Several doctors on the fight checked on her. And I felt the plane turn north.

And that's when my heart sank.  The pilot came on and informed us that we were headed to New Brunswick, Nova Scotia for a medical emergency.  Guys.  I'm not heartless, but the lady had the flu.  Probably had it when she got on the plane.  The pilot said we were going to touch down, get her medical help and fifteen minutes and we'd be on our way.

FOUR HOURS LATER.  FOUR HOURS.  

Seems there's some sort of FAA regulation that says if you leave the plane, you luggage has to go with you.  It took the baggage handlers three and a half hours to find her luggage.  Then the plane had to be de-iced. 

The young woman behind me had been crying for several of those hours.  She was to meet people at the airport and go to Marseilles with them.  She didn't know if they waited for her or left so they could have Christmas with their families.

We got into Charles DeGaulle at eleven, but the shuttle who was to pick us up had long ago forgotten us.  Four phone calls and one to the hotel to get them to finally come take us to the hotel is all it took to get them to respond with a vechicle.  We got into the Etoile Troccadero at 2:30.  A little road weary, but we were there!

Paris!

It was too late after our showers to do much but walk over to the Tour Eiffel and peruse the Christmas markets.

We were really hungry by then, so we stopped at one of the vendors in the market and got some sandwiches.  But these were so much better than that!  The woman rolled out a ball of dough, pressed it flat and deep fried it!  (Hey!  It's a vacation.)  While it was still hot, she filled it with jambon, fromage et tout le jardin.  Oh, it was good.

Having been up for twenty-four hours, we dragged ourseves back to the Etoile and took a long deserved nap.

Tomorrow - Sainte Chapelle!

 

 

 

Allons-y!

Guess where we spent Christmas, y'all!

Here's a hint:

There's somewhere over eight hundred pictures, so strap in and we'll get started tomorrow.  Heeee!