Thursday, June 12, 2008

day of a million stairs



on wednesday, the squirrel and i split up, and i went to montmartre, in the 18th arrondissement, to see le sacre coeur and whatever else there is to see. windmills, yeah. deb went to chartres to see the cathedral there, and i just didn't want to travel 60 miles on the train to see another church. actually, i'd planned to go shopping today, but ... well, she's already seen le sacre coeur and didn't think her feet would stand the trip. mine were feeling pretty good, and it was another gorgeous day, so i decided to save shopping for later in the week when the weather is supposed to be crappier. it was a good decision but, of course, ended up being more walking than i would've liked.

the basilica is very beautiful, and i managed to get a good photo of it (above), although one has to stand below it on the steps, b/c there's not much straightaway to back onto.

anyway, i figured out the way on le metro, no prob. on the way there, an older man got on the train and played the violin for a couple of stops. this sort of thing happens a lot -- musicians getting on with their instruments, or sometimes a singer, and doing a couple of numbers between stops. so, he played the standard stuff, like "besame mucho" and other tunes i recognized but didn't know the names of. he was behind me in the wide standing space, but i could see him reflected in the glass of the doors. he was jowly and sort of saggy-faced, and he looked kind of melancholy. the music, too, had a mournful edge to it. it made me feel kind of sad to think about it, this guy begging a living with cheesy standards on le metro.

soon the ride ended, and i trotted off to my destination. but when i got to the bottom of the big, tall hill that leads to the church, the funicular (sideways trolley to the top) wasn't working! so, i trudged up about 50,000 steps -- along with all the other hapless tourists. up isn't so bad on the feet, but it's murder on the legs. on the ipod it took gnarls barkley ("run"), the hives ("tick tick boom"), the white stripes ("my doorbell"), and half of the raconteurs' "steady as she goes" (ahaha) to get me to to the top. luckily, there are breaks -- little landings, i guess you'd call them -- so i could walk around in a circle underneath a skinny tree for a sec to catch my breath and unhink my quads.

made it to the top, and there it was: the church of the sacred heart. here's a view of paris from the steps just below it. they have smog here, too:



le sacre coeur is quite curlicued on the outside, and that's nothing compared to how ornate it is inside! you have to be silent, and no pictures allowed inside -- it's a place of worship at all times, and one must be respectful. i was just grateful for the silence itself.

not too many people were in there -- just a small horde. a few were sitting in the pews. i just trundled around the perimeter, gawking at the ornate ... everything. carvings that filled every niche, and amazing stained glass. i haven't been inside notre dame yet ... i suppose it's even more incredible, so maybe i should make the effort.

anyway. i hadn't gotten too far along when i witnessed one of those things that makes me feel embarrassed to be an american, and maybe even embarrassed to be human (and which i really have a knack for being around when they happen). this seriously abrasive fat guy took a picture of a rack of burning votives (which people light and say a prayer for someone), and this english lady said, "you're not supposed to do that." the guy obviously didn't care, or he wouldn't have done it in the first place. but naturally, her admonishment didn't shame him. instead, he copped an attitude, like, "why not?" she told him it was disrespectful. so he said, "yeah? well, you're shit!" i kept walking, but the world did one of those things where the air seemed to expand and contract at once. i was both cringing inside and restraining myself from getting into it with this pig. (i mean, if you don't want to be respectful, don't come in, ok? stand outside and drool or eat your ice cream or whatev. fuckhead.) but this was no time for pointless heroics. i really wished i had a sonic screwdriver so i could discreetly point it in the guy's direction and make his camera blow up. then i wanted to go up to the lady and apologize on behalf of all u.s. citizens. but i didn't want to break the silence rule.

so, i stumbled on after a minute. soon i overtook this dumbass and his male companion, who was older and possibly his dad? anyway, rude dude was BRAGGING to his friend: "so she said it was disrespectful, and i said, 'yeah? you're shit!' and she didn't know what to think of that!" triumph in his voice. augh. i felt like i was being tested by god. i sooooo wanted to tell the guy off. but, again. i didn't want to break the rule of silence. not to mention the rule of not assaulting people in le sacre coeur.

instead, i turned my attention to the lovely stained glass and statuary. the inside of the main dome is an amazing painting. for once i didn't go into the little shop, but of course there was one. i saw rude dude again outside of it, though, and i threw the worst curse i could think of at him. then i saw the corner dedicated to st. michel slaying the dragon. i fingered the dragon choker at my throat and felt a little bit defensive.

left the church and headed toward place du tertre, the touristy nearby square stuffed with cafes and ice cream joints and tchotchke shops and artists drawing people's pictures. tried to follow the walking tour in the paris day-by-day book. i found au lapin agile, the cabaret that used to be called cabaret des assassins and was a hangout of picasso's.



after that i got hopelessly lost. to get un-lost, i had to retrace my steps. including going down all the steps i came up:



once back down the steps, i did see a few more things, including a windmill. but my feet were killing me, so i didn't make it to the moulin rouge (wasn't too jazzed about seeing it anyway ... sorry) or even some other things i actually wanted to see. oh, well. i needed enough feets power to get me back, and that's just the way it was. i did buy a cool silver ring in a little shop along the rue des abbesses ... it's a band with an x-type cross pattern, and the middle part spins. like a worry bead on your finger -- nifty.

so i limped back to the metro station, outside of which was a guy with a goldfish bowl balanced on his head, entertaining a small crowd. coming back on le metro, some transit cops got on and checked everybody's tickets.

got back to my hood and had a glass of wine at the same cafe as yesterday, and wrote in my journal. the cafe was right across from the fountain of st. michel and the dragon. i watched a couple of young guys toss a plastic toy of some sort into the fountain for their dogs -- a lab and some sorta husky mix -- to retrieve. the fountain has three tiers above the main pool, and the dogs were really into splashing around in the water, in that joyous doggie way that's so much fun to watch. probably that's not an approved use of the fountain, but it was entertaining. especially when one guy threw the toy into the highest tier, which the dogs couldn't get to, and he had to go in himself to get it out. silly hippie.

deb and i had dinner at a place near notre dame that had pretty great foie gras but was otherwise sort of eh. they overcooked my lamb to damn near leather -- even though i SAID medium-rare. it's like they look at americans and think "well done," no matter what you say. then we walked over to notre dame. it looked lovely in the blue evening light. don't you agree? (don't click on this photo to make it bigger, howev; it's a little grainy or out of focus and looks much better just like this.)



wow, paris. it's kind of amazing.

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