Saturday, February 14, 2015

Part 5, Medieval churches day


On Saturday, October 25th I had my first full "tourist" day. The errands I performed on Friday completed, my arrangements to meet friends of friends on Sunday in limbo (call back on Sunday), I had the whole day to do with as I pleased.

In my travel journal I wrote for this day that I was dead tired, having walked almost continuously from 8:30 a.m. to almost 7 p.m. On my way to the Metro station I thought I would pick up a cheap watch, as my usual time-keeping device - my cell phone - I left behind in NYC. Just as I found a cheap tourist crap selling place it was swamped by a swarm of French teenagers coming the other way. Instead of trying to elbow my way through I decided that a cheap watch was not worth the bother. They looked like OK kids, but just too many of them and a little too obnoxious.

That said, and I mention this mostly as an aside, I found that the teenagers I encountered in France and Luxembourg looked decidedly different than American teenagers. The European ones had a more child-like demeanor. And I say that in a good way. American teenagers, even in mellow San Francisco, I find have a hardness and an anger to them that radiates like a force-field. While in Europe I never had the feeling that I might encounter, with or without warning, that a teenager would direct any aggression or insult towards me. I have that feeling and its occasional realization in the U.S. I have no great wisdom of insightful comment to offer. I have not a clue what may lie behind the difference. I only noticed it. (To be fair, Paris, Nimes and Luxembourg are pretty sheltered places, and my experience of these places of very short duration). Also, French people (teenagers included) read. Not just magazines or newspapers, but literature. On nearly every occasion when I sat next to a young person on his/her own on the Metro or a train I noticed them reading a book. A real book not a pop culture book like Anne Rice or the latest John Grisham best-seller. I recall two that I could figure out: "A Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich" by Solzhenitsin (in French translation) and "The Stranger" by Camus (in French, obviously). If I ever saw anyone in the U.S. reading literature in public it happened so long ago I have forgotten.

My first destination was Notre Dame. I managed to find the right transfers in the Metro. (A miracle, by the way). I walked the length of the Isle de le Cite along the right bank (?) until I reached a bridge. I managed to work my way through the crowd to the entrance. The line to go inside looked way too long for me. I treated myself to a leisurely morning, spending much of it walking rather than riding the Metro. I would try again early Sunday and see if I could attend a Mass. Instead of fighting the crowd I continued walking to the other bank. Along the Seine I found a view of the Cathedral from the top of the landing of stairs leading to the barges on the river. After looking at the building for a time I turned and saw another tourist trying to take a picture and noticed I was in his frame. I quickly walked around to his side to give him a better picture. After he took his picture and started walking away he called out "Spasibo" over his shoulder ("thank you" in Russian). He did not look surprised when I answered with "you're welcome" in Russian. I sometimes wonder if tourists sometimes out-number the Parisians. Well, then it was my turn. I used my phrase book French and hand gestures to ask a nice French couple if one of them would take my picture with Notre Dame in the Background. The woman took probably the best picture of me this trip. (Follows or attached).



I strolled back to the Isle de la Cite looking for Sainte Chapelle: A smaller medieval church near Notre Dame and not as easily seen from the river. The French built another building around Sainte Chapelle. The main interest in this building is the interior. It was well worth the effort to find it. At first I felt a bit disappointed. The lower chamber looked like the sort of tourist trap that one finds in the U.S. Like the "Old West town" where the exteriors look superficially like the 19th century ones but inside they sell t-shirts with "greatest grandma" or other pithy sayings and frozen yogurts. As soon as I entered I saw a row of stalls selling souvenir crap taking up the left-hand one third of the floor space. I immediately thought to myself "this can't be it." A quick look over my shoulder and I spotted a narrow spiral staircase. One for going to the upper chamber and the other served as the "down" staircase. The narrow passage briefly reminded me of the "American tourist" scene from the movie In Bruges. Lucky for me I was not a *%#@ing elephant.

The interior of the upper chamber had startlingly beautiful stained glass windows and medieval statues. About 30 or so huge stain glass windows with scores of miniature 'scenes' from the bible form a broad oval around a central open space. Surrounding the chamber installed in the walls just below the windows you see about a dozen statues. The program explains the history of the place and indicates which of the statues are original to the building (as opposed to the ones restored during the Renaissance or 18th century). Looking at the gilt work I realized suddenly that it was gold, probably solid gold. Sadly my disposable camera lacked a flash. I took one picture which failed to amount to much. Later in the day I stumbled upon St. Severin's. This church had been expanded from its original medieval smaller size. The Commune of 1870 trashed most churches (they were associated with established power). The restoration included seven new stained glass windows created in 1970 with a modern art abstraction of biblical themes. The building was a kind of miniature version of Notre Dame but not as crowded and easier to take in.

The vegetarian restaurant that had the best rating from the "Happy cows" web site happened to be on the same street and block as the tea shop "Marriage Freres." Now, I've had vegetarian imitations of carnivorous food before, but never this good. I had a "beef" with mushroom sauce to die for, although it certainly did not taste like beef. The steamed potatoes were heaven too, mostly owing to the sprinkling of fresh herbs.  Marriage Freres, the tea shop a friend had recommended had every kind of tea you ever heard of plus twice as many more that you hadn't. The only glitch was that the place was packed. I enjoyed the aroma of the teas for as long as I could stand the crowd.

After leaving the tea shop I headed to the Pompidou Center (although I did not go in - too crowded). In a park near the Center I held my laughter in check and my camera steady enough to take a picture of a group of cops on roller blades. There's something you don't see in the U.S. I managed to crop this picture down to its essentials (below or attached):

Cops on roller blades near the Pompidou Center


Also outside the Pompidou Center I saw a huge "fountain" pool with various moving metal contraptions spraying water. A written description can not do it justice. It was great for kids as the designer(s) showed a great sense of fun. This was one of the first places I found a lot of "non-tourists" as the Parisians and their children were all around this big rectangular pool full of odd looking metal sculptures.

I will leave this at about the halfway point Saturday. Next: Steven meets the Big Giant Heads (and thankfully neither of them is or resembles William Shatner).