Archive for May, 2009

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Today I tucked into some leftover baguette for lunch. I bought the baguette a few days ago, so that I could have it with cheese fondue for dinner. There was some leftover. So it was two days old.

It still tasted fine, and it wasn’t like trying to gnaw my way through biscotti or anything. That being said, in the future perhaps I’ll be a bit more careful to eat leftover baguette the next day instead of waiting.


Because I somehow managed to cut my thumb on the baguette crust as I was tearing it apart to eat it. As I was doing it, I felt the baguette crust scrape against my thumb, but didn’t think anything of it. Later, my thumb felt funny, kind of stingy, and so I actually looked at the little pink slightly irritated area, and saw an actual cut in my skin.

Apparently, somewhat stale baguette crust can be sharp!

Or I am exceptionally gifted when it comes to giving myself weird little injuries. I also managed to give myself a paper cut on my left index finger using a little packet of instant oatmeal.

Probably the word gifted should be swapped out in favour of challenged, there.

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Anyways, I’m getting near the end of my Paris trip, so I’ll continue on!!!
Day Seven: Friday. Getting down to the wire here – only two days left to actually do stuff in Paris! I had four things left on my list of things I want to see/do in Paris: Versailles, the Eiffel Tower, the Crypt at Notre Dame, and the Catacombs. Since Versailles is outside of Paris, I decided to lump the three in-the-city things together for one day, and handle Versailles on the other day. And as a just-in-case-things-take-more-time-than-I-think-they-will measure, I decided to do the city stuff first.

So first stop, the Catacombs. Upon emerging from the Denfert-Rochereau metro station, I discover a line up of visitors waiting to enter. A long line up. It stretches around the block! I make my way to the end, then see a bakery across the street and hop over there to get myself a baguette to munch while I wait. Unfortunately for me, it wasn’t an artisan baguette, but it was still pretty good since it was fresh. Not so fresh that it was still warm, but all in all I was still happy with it.

The line crawled along. I finished my baguette. I still wasn’t inside. I looked at my watch nervously, wondering if I’d make it in before they shut down the ticket sales at 4 PM, and wondering if I’d make it to the Crypt before they shut down their ticket sales at 5:30 PM. After shuffling along in that line for about two hours, I finally got inside the gate. Down a tightly spiraled staircase, into the dark underworld caverns of the Catacombs.

The Catacombs are a surreal place – a huge network of tunnels and chambers, leftover from former quarries. They’ve run electricity through the tunnels used for the tour, so that lights could be installed to light visitors’ way. There’s far more tunnel than what you see in your visit, and it’s very easy to get lost in the maze, so the tour is set to follow a specific path, and all other potential turns off this path have been gated off. You can see that it is possible to go that way, if you have the key to the gate. Informative little signs tell you about the various markings that people used to orient themselves underground to avoid getting lost, and the bell-shaped chambers that are the point of origin of cave-ins. That one was great – you’re standing in one of these chambers reading a sign telling you that this is where cave-ins start. The sign then goes on to reassure the visitor that the chamber has since been reinforced with concrete, but I was pretty keen to get out of there promptly.

The single most interesting feature of the Catacombs, though, was the ossuary. Back in the 1700s, the citizens of Paris started getting sick. It was determined that the cause was contamination of the water supply. The source of the contamination? The city’s many cemeteries. The solution? Empty the cemeteries. The remains were exhumed and then stashed away in the Catacombs. At first, it was a big jumbly mess, but then an engineer went through and arranged the bones in a more visually pleasing sort of way. So now, you walk through several chambers that are set up so that you have the impression that you are walking through a corridor of bone – the walls are stacks of femurs with rows of skulls running across them.

I’m very glad I got to see the Catacombs. It was neat descending into the tunnels, then trekking through the tunnels, then passing through the ossuary. At the same time, it was creepy. You’re underground, if you’re in the ossuary, you’re surrounded by human bones, otherwise you’re reading signs about the structural origin of a cave-in, or reading about people who worked in the Catacombs who died during cave-ins, possibly reflecting on the fact that there is a metro station not very far away, which means trains go rumbling through underground at least twice every five minutes – one in each direction, and the Denfert-Rochereau station is a two-line station, with RER trains too, so there should be lots of underground rail traffic there. The whole time I was down there, I could practically feel the weight of Paris pressing down on me. It didn’t make me freak out, and I wouldn’t describe my experience down there as being upsetting, or even really scary. I was a touch nervous the whole time though. Especially in the ossuary. I’d look at those skulls and think that if things went really badly, mine could be added to the pile, just another anonymous skull. Except that mine wouldn’t be exactly like the ones down there – I’m not of European descent, so my skeleton will have some non-European features to it. Not that I have horns or anything weird like that. I’m just certain that a skilled forensic anthropologist – perhaps Dr. Temperance Brennan – would be able to pick mine out of the skull lineup.

As much as I enjoyed the chance to wander through the Catacombs, I was still quite glad to reemerge into the sunshine. There was more good news to be had – it was early enough for me to get to the Crypt before closing!! I’ll continue with the rest of the day tomorrow…

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Anyways…. Day Six: in keeping with the strategy of visiting museums on the day that they are open late, since this was a Thursday, that meant that I was going to the Musee d’Orsay.

But before going to the Musee d’Orsay, I had a couple of tourist lose ends to tie up. I still wanted to see the Crypt at Notre Dame, and I wanted to also check out the Catacombs – a section of the underground tunnels leftover from the quarries is open to tourists, including a path through an ossuary. My five day Paris Visite metro pass was going to expire at the end of this day, so it would be wise for me to get all that bouncing around over and done with while I had an active pass and wasn’t paying per trip. So the plan was to go to the Catacombs first, since it was closer to the hotel, then head up to the Crypt, and then from there go to the Musee d’Orsay. I even figured I could take a trip up the Eiffel Tower that evening.

There was a problem with this plan though. The problem was that the date was May 21. To a non-religious person living in North America, May 21 doesn’t hold any particular significance. If you’re Catholic, you probably know where this is going. May 21 is Ascension, a significant Catholic holiday. In Paris, it is significant enough that many places are in fact closed on May 21. I learned this the hard way. When I got to the Catacombs, they were closed. When I got to the Crypt, they too were closed – never mind that the Towers were still open, and of course the Cathedral itself was open. This was a bit aggravating. I knew, though, that the Musee d’Orsay would be open – I’d seen a notice to that effect on their website previously. The notice should have triggered some alarm bells in my head, but oh well.

The Musee d’Orsay’s collection essentially picks up at the point in time where the Louvre’s stops – I believe their collection spans from 1848 to 1914. Big name draws are Monet (but not Waterlilies) and Van Gogh (but not Sunflowers). I had heard that there was a series of Monet paintings that illustrate the decline in his visual acuity, but I didn’t see any such set, and I was pretty thorough in my stomp through that museum. I saw the famous Van Gogh self portrait against the swirly blue background, but I did not get to see Starry Night – there was a little postcard-like sign up on the wall in the Van Gogh room with an image of Starry Night on it, and the text informed visitors that the piece was on loan to the Museum of Modern Art in New York, until June 2009.

Partway through my run through the museum it became apparent that I hadn’t yet fully recovered from my art overload from the previous day at the Louvre – the pieces I saw earlier on in the day are fresher and more detailed in my mind than those that were seen later, when everything all started to just blur together. So I am glad that I again prioritized my visit and set off first in search of the Monets and Van Goghs.

This overload sensation, though, made my museum visit much shorter – I was done in about four hours, rather than being turfed out at closing time after about six hours with things yet to be seen. There were many pieces that I would stroll past with merely a casual glance because I was no longer in the right frame of mind to appreciate fine art, and the part of my brain that loves absorbing new trivia could absorb no more. So I found myself sitting on the steps outside the museum, pondering my dinner options. I decided to head over to the Champs Elysees again to look for an intriguing restaurant, and ended up at an Alsatian place. I had a nice fillet of pikeperch, which was good, served over a bed of sauerkraut, which was not so good, and a very nice creme brulee for my dessert. After the meal, it became apparent that I was tired, and I decided to postpone my trip up the Eiffel Tower for another day when I was less wiped out….

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In the meantime….
Day Five: the Louvre day, strategically chosen because the Louvre is open late on Wednesdays – they don’t kick you out until 9 PM, which means one doesn’t need to get there right when the doors open to have a nice long stretch to admire the collection. This is good for me, since I am not one who is skilled when it comes to early starts. I think I managed to get myself to the museum by 2 PM, and since I had the Paris Museum Pass, I could bypass the lines and pretty well waltz right in – well, after clearing security. I would have to pay extra to see the temporary exhibit, Les Portes du Ciel, which was all ancient Egyptian stuff, and I would have liked to, but I delayed buying the ticket in favour of checking out the permanent collection first, and ended up not having time for the additional exhibit. As it turned out, I didn’t have time for the entire permanent collection either!

I headed in with some priorities – I wanted to see the more popularly known items first, then move on to contemplate the others in the collection. In all honesty, I’ve never been someone who really appreciates fine art. I mean, I know that there are things I like, and things I don’t like, but I’ve had a tough time understanding how someone can sit in front of a painting for more than five seconds ‘appreciating’ it. One of my uncles likes to do this. He can sit and admire a single painting for what seems to me to be a ludicrously long time. Knowing this about myself, I figured six hours would be plenty of time for someone like me to cruise through the Louvre’s entire collection.

That being said, the first priority piece I found was the Venus de Milo. It wasn’t in its usual gallery, which was being renovated, and so it was placed in a sort of hallway. It was a large hallway – the Louvre was once a palace, so everything has grandeur to it – and it was all by itself, with a cluster of admirers around it. I looked at it, and read the little information blurb about it, and looked at it some more. I did the same thing when I found Victory, while following the signs to the Mona Lisa. There was a crowd around the Mona Lisa. Still, I managed to get as close as I could – they had a railing set up to prevent visitors from getting too close, probably for greater equity in picture taking and viewing, because the painting itself was inside a glass enclosure, so it’s not as though someone could accidentally get bumped into it and damage it. It’s not a particularly large painting, but I stayed and looked at it for a rather long while for me. I examined it for all the details I’ve heard about it – the offset of the background landscape on the two sides, the lack of eyebrows, the enigmatic smile.

Then, I backtracked a bit, remembering another Da Vinci work that calls the Louvre home – Madonna on the Rocks. I found it, and found myself a place near the front of the small crowd – actually it was a tour group – and contemplated it for some time. I actually really like this one. The Mona Lisa is nice, but Madonna on the Rocks I actually like. The people depicted seemed to have a glow to them – for all I know, it was simply good lighting, but I stared at this painting for several minutes, and I could have stayed longer, but there was still so much to see. After tracking back to the Mona Lisa room to take a peek at the security measures to see if the novel had been accurate – it was – I worked my way through a large chunk of the Louvre’s permanent collection of paintings. Not all of them, but a pretty substantial amount, I hope. Then suddenly, it was time for me to get some food, so I found a food court just off the main lobby area and had a decent vegetable sandwich, then worked my way through the Louvre’s permanent collection of ancient Egyptian artifacts before the museum closed. As I exited the museum, I saw the inverted crystal pyramid with the marble pyramid beneath it, and then outside I saw the two crystal pyramids that jut up in the former palace courtyard…

All in all, it was a pretty worthwhile day!!

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Even though I’m home now, and very, very tired, I have a lot left of my Paris trip to post… So I’ll continue below!

Day Four: woke up very late. Didn’t get out of the hotel room till after 2 PM. Whoops! Oh well, it all works out in the end, right? Again headed up to the Ile-de-la-Cite to visit the Notre Dame Cathedral. Made the tactical error of visiting the Cathedral itself first – it was not obvious to me that the entrance to the Towers and the entrance to the Crypt, both of which close at a certain hour of day, are not actually inside the Cathedral. To get to the Towers, when you are facing the Cathedral on the Parvis, walk to the left side of the Cathedral, around the corner. To get to the Crypt, when you are facing the Cathedral on the Parvis, turn around and walk back to the far edge of the Parvis – the Crypt entrance is way over there. The reason this was a tactical error was because the Cathedral itself does not have a closing time, so when pressed for time and wanting to see everything, one should really start with either the Towers or the Crypt. Learn from my mistake!

In any event, the Cathedral was still quite spectacular. I did feel a wee bit like I was trespassing – after all, this is an important place of Catholic worship, and I was not there to worship, and I am not Catholic. I wandered through, admiring all the Gothic architecture and stained glass and paintings, enjoying the mesmerizing warm glow of the candles lit for prayers, and reflecting on the generally peaceful and safe atmosphere inside the Cathedral, wondering if the worshippers felt like we tourists were intruding on them. At some point, we must have, because a voice came over the public address system, shushing us and asking for silence. The ambient noise level dropped off pretty quickly. I also took a cruise through the Treasury, which is inside the Cathedral, and though it was interesting to see the religious artifacts and robes, they made me pay three euros to see it.

After the Cathedral, I had a wonderful takeaway crepe while waiting in line for the Towers – actually, the lineup for the Towers was discovered in the hunt for food. The crepe was splashed liberally with Grand Marnier, then sprinkled with sugar, then folded up into a delicious little bundle for me to chow down on. Very tasty stuff. Then came my workout of the day. Climbing. Those. Stairs. I wasn’t surprised that there was no elevator or lifting device inside the Towers – after all, they were built back in 1165, long before elevators were a blink of imagination, never mind plausible reality. A sign outside the Towers entrance warned that this was not for individuals with cardiac conditions, nor was it for pregnant women. I am not either of those, but I’m also not exactly in tip top shape either – my level of physical activity is pretty pathetic. I started to worry about the embarrassment of collapsing in the stairway, of having to be hauled away in an ambulance. When I found the Tower lineup, there was an ambulance there. I didn’t get to see anyone being carried inside it or anything, and when it left it didn’t have its sirens blaring and lights flashing, but still. I was pretty nervous when I stepped up to the admissions wicket, flashed my Paris Museum Pass, and started hiking up the stairs.

It was pretty intense – stone steps spiraling tightly upward, ever upward. Thankfully, they’ve organized your visit to the Towers in such a way that you do not climb all 400 steps at once – you go up about 100, then land in a gift shop where they force you to take a bit of a rest – there’s stuff to read about Victor Hugo, and a spiral stairwell that a nearby sign informs you leads to Esmeralda’s cell – you don’t get to see the actual cell, but you see the stairway that leads to it. Then you get herded back into the staircase, spiraling up and up, probably about 200 steps – I didn’t count – and land on the walkway that goes around the outside of the Towers and connects the two to each other. It offers up a pretty spectacular view. From here, you can re-enter one of the bell towers to take a look at the huge bell – walk up a few flights of wooden stairs, trying not to think of how old those stairs are. Yes, they have probably been repaired and replaced and refurbished, but still. They creak and groan as you walk on them, as wooden floorboards are prone to do, and you can’t help but remember the age of the building and wonder at the structural integrity of this non-stone bit. Then, up another spiral staircase – again, probably about 100 steps – up to the very top of one of the towers, which offers amazing views of Paris in all directions. Back down the stairs – all of them – and you’re done!

Amazingly, I made it up the stairs without major distress – sure, my heart was pounding in my chest after the biggest stretch, and at the end of the visit my legs felt a wee bit rubbery and I didn’t even want to think about going up any more stairs ever again in my life, but I did not collapse, and perhaps more impressively, I did not have to stop to take a rest either. Now, that’s not to say that I powered my way through all sets nonstop – I’m sure, especially in the longest stretch, that I did stop here and there for a bit, not because I feared I might lose consciousness, but because the line of visitors had stopped, because someone further up had stopped and no one could pass in the tightly coiled stairway. So while I may not be the most physically fit person in the world, I’m not the least either. Hooray!

After finishing up the Towers, it was clear that there wouldn’t be time to visit the Crypt as well – their ticketing office closes half an hour before actual closing time, and by the time I got there it was already closed. So another search for food was mounted, resulting in me ending up in a little cafe just down the street from Notre Dame, dining on French onion soup, escargots, and fries. The day was finished off with a trip back to the Arc de Triomphe, with my Paris Museum Pass in hand, to go up to the top to watch the sun set over the Champs Elysees and see some of the lights come on for night. Remember how I was done with steps after my Notre Dame visit? You guessed it – the Arc de Triomphe again requires visitors to climb steps to reach the top, 275 of them. It was a nice view, though….

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