TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 13
A PARISIAN TOUR WITH A SOUTH AFRICAN GUIDE
Our guide for the Parisian Sandman tour, which started at the fountain of St. Michel, was a South African named Davy. He was a quick talker and walker, and seemed like he had done too many of these tours, and wanted to get home to his French girlfriend. Tall and lanky, he reminded us of a South African friend in Vancouver, same accent, same soft humor.
White clouds swept the blue sky all day, creating shadow and drama, and eventually heat. The chilly morning gave way to a sprinkle of summer. St. Michael is a good example of Gothic sculpture, said Davy as he sprang toward a busy intersection and we ran behind him to Rue de Chat au Peche, the narrowest street in Paris. He spoke quickly and was often hard to follow.
In the Middle Ages, sewage drained down the street into the Seine, and people drank the Seine waters. When Napoleon arrived the 1800s Paris was drastically changed. Proper sewers were constructed, and roads widened. George-Eugene Haussmann, who Napoleon hired for the job, knocked down homes, moved the poor to the city perimeters like Montmartre, and widening the streets enough for tanks to roll through should people attempt to revolt.
The Latin quarter, where we were standing, was so called because it was an educational quarter at a time when Latin was the language of education. Hemingway wrote and lived upstairs in Shakespeare and Co. located nearby.
A statue of Good King Henry, or Henry VI, on horseback stands just outside the Latin Quarter. He was called “good” because he promised his people one chicken a week and miraculously delivered on his promise. Alas, he was murdered because he flip flopped from Protestant to Catholic to Protestant and so on as it suited the times. Until someone took offence and stabbed him.
NOTRE DAME AND WIDE BOULEVARDS
“Without Victor Hugo, there would be no Notre Dame,” said Davy standing in front of Paris’s most famous building, constructed from the 1100s to completion in 1860. Victor Hugo’s wrote “The Hunchback of Notre Dame” when the cathedral was falling to ruins. The book, a serialized chapbook, was so popular among the public that it invigorated a renewed interest in the cathedral, and money poured in to make critical repairs. Chloe and I returned to Notre Dame later to go inside. Honestly, it was a disappointment. Too many tourists, too many flags and too many trinkets for sale. Too much commotion and commercialism for contemplativeness.
Next, Davy asked us to guess the age of the Hotel Dieu, the hospital on the Ile de la Cite. Founded in 651 AD, it is the oldest continuously operating hospital in the world. A newer building, built by the Nazis during the Second World War, is also on this square. As Davy tells it, Paris stands as a living museum because of one crafty Swedish soldier. During WWII, the officer Hitler sent to Paris to destroy the city and bomb its famous monuments, fell in love with Paris. With the help of a Swedish operative, he arranged for the bombing of Paris to take place on the outside of the city. It looked like Paris was burning, both appeasing Hitler and protecting the city’s core all at the same time. Hitler, convinced the city was destroyed, released the officer’s family which he had been holding in captivity until the officer fulfilled his order.
In Sainte-Chapelle, also on the square, are kept the “passion relics.” King Louis IX of France spent huge amounts of money to buy and house the relics he purchased from Constantinople. They cost 135,000 livres; the large silver chest where they were stored an additional 100,000 livres. By contrast, the entire chapel of Sainte-Chapelle was 40,000 livres to build and glaze. But Davy was telling us the story to catch our attention, which at this stage was waning. He described some of the relics — bits of cross, the crown of thorns, but his favorite was a vile of Mary’s breast milk.
After passing under the Pont Neuf, which means the new bridge, but is in fact the oldest of all the wooden bridges in Paris, we crossed the “love bridge” or Pont des Art, where Carrie and Big of Sex in the City, and lots of real people, have placed locks on the iron railing as a symbol of their union. It’s not allowed anymore. The bridge became too heavy. Pickpockets now weigh down the bridge.
LOUVRE AND BEYOND
As we passed through the massive courtyards of the Louvre the sun was strong, and Davy found a place for us to sit on the steps in the shade. Many kings put their architectural stamps on the Louvre, which was their home until Louis XIV in the 1680s. Young, seven-year-old Louis wanted to move to the country and he packed up for Versailles.
REST OF THE DAY – TUILERIES TO ARC DE TRIOMPHE, SCULPTURE AND MORE GORGEOUSNESS
The tour ended at a buffet restaurant near the Tuileries Garden and the Champs Elysees where Sandman sold tickets to other walks and tours. We bought tickets for a boat ride that would take us near the Eiffel Tower. A quick stop at the bank then to the Tuileries Garden to enjoy the day like a Parisian with our legs propped up on the concrete lip of the pond, watching the ducks, soaking in the sun.
Later, walking again, we found Louise Bourgeois’ “Welcoming Hands” sculpture, strolled toward the Arc de Triomphe, turned to go to the Grand Palais, only to find it was closed. Peeking in the Petit Palais, its sculptures and garden visible from the outside, we were enticed and entered. It’s free. The interior garden and courtyard, the building itself, all so beautiful. WE do love to explore.
By the time we returned to our apartment it was past 8:00. Another long and happy day.
