We’re finally starting to settle into a groove here (yes, it’s taken us two weeks, we’re a bit slow) and we think we’ve figured out how to do a few hours of sightseeing during the day without breaking the boy into a thousand melty, sobbing, screaming pieces.
The past few days have been busy. We’ve just spent the past hour figuring out our accommodations for the month after we leave Paris and it’s a bit past 10 pm local time, so I’ll try to keep this brief.
Yeah, right.
14th July
Thursday was 14 Juillet, or, as it’s more commonly known outside of France, Bastille Day. We celebrated with several hundred thousand other people Thursday morning by trekking over to the Champs Elysees and taking in the parade.
It started at 10:44 am with at least 10 flyovers by all kinds of jets, troop transports, radar planes, and fueling tankers. It was an impressive way to start the show and Braeden loved the first flyover by three fighters that were streaming blue, white, and red smoke.
The parade was strictly military and started with marching troops from all branches of France’s military. Then came the mounted cavalry and motorized divisions, and finally we saw phalanxes of armored vehicles with portable bridges and tractor trailers carrying drones.
The highlight for me (possibly because I had a nearly 40-pound child on my shoulders for a full hour) was the end, when the entire crowd joined in to sing The Marseillaise together.
Notre Dame
Friday we were feeling rested and fresh, so we got up early and headed down the street to Notre Dame, one of the few monuments I visited in my brief stay in Paris during the summer of ’96.
There was no line to get into the cathedral itself, so we wandered in and gawked at the soaring columns, the ornate screens around the choir, and of course the gigantic and gorgeous stained glass windows.
We spent perhaps 30 minutes walking around the inside of the cathedral, talking to Braeden about the structure and answering his questions. Then we headed outside and hopped in line for the bell towers, which didn’t open until 10 am, giving us about 30 minutes to wait.
Once the doors opened the line went quickly. We entered and started climbing. There are 442 steps total to the top of the towers, so during the climb you have plenty of time to think interesting thoughts, like:
I hope Braeden doesn’t have to pee on the way up.
and
Is it me or is this staircase getting smaller and smaller? This goddamned thing isn’t going to collapse on me, is it?
and
I wonder who the poor bastards where that had to climb this sucker every day. Probably the same guys that invented “ringing a bell with a very long f**king rope.”
and
I’m pretty sure Hugo got the idea for the Hunchback while carrying his kid up these frigging steps.
We reached the level just below the North Bell Tower and stepped out onto the walkway. We were greeted by spectacular views and a few very old gargoyles, the latter of which Braeden was excited to see up close ever since we visited the park next to Notre Dame the previous week.
We spent a good long time taking in our surroundings. Nearly 1,000-year-old stonework everywhere around us, and spread out at our feet was one of the most beautiful cities in the world.
We slowly crossed the bridge between the two towers, snapping pictures like crazy, and then we entered the stairs of the South tower to ascend to the bells.
We climbed through the tiny wooden door and ogled the interior of the bell tower. Where the cathedral below was all dark stone and luminous stained glass, the bell towers were ancient, creaking, timber.
The tower soared above us and we mounted the steep, narrow wooden staircase. Moments later we stepped out onto the platforms above which the bells were hung. There were only two mounted in the South tower, and they were huge. We lingered for a few minutes and then descended the wooden staircase.
Back outside, we followed the signs for the “Panoramic View”, which led to yet another staircase. We climbed this last staircase and emerged on the very top of the tower. We walked around and gaped at the views in every direction. We could see all of Paris and beyond on what turned out to be a beautiful, clear day, and we took our time.
Once we had our fill we headed to the stairs for our final, long trip down. We made the mistake of getting ahead of another group, and of course as soon as we did the boy insisted he wanted to walk down on his own.
He and I battled briefly. He insisted that the people backed up behind us were ok with him stopping at every window to peer out and exclaim, “We’re getting lower!” while I suggested that perhaps the people behind us wanted to reach the ground floor before Halloween.
Juliann, ever the diplomat (and smarter than I am) suggested that we “pull over” at the next access door and let everyone pass. Braeden and I grudgingly admitted it was a good idea and that Mom probably knew what the hell she was talking about, and before we knew it the three of us were alone on the stairs, slowly descending at a stubborn 4-year-old’s pace.
[Aside: It’s at this point in the story that I’m reminded of my father telling me when I was 16: “I only hope you have one just like you, son.” Congrats, Dad, I did.]
We finally reached the bottom and stepped out into the bright morning sunshine. Everyone was hungry so we decided to skip over to Ile St. Louis to find a boulangerie, grab a sandwich, have a little picnic lunch, and reward ourselves with a second visit to Berthillion.
Braeden had been asking about Berthillion again and we’d been itching to get back ourselves, so it was time.
Our lunch was tasty and the view wonderful, and there was no line this time at Berthillion. Braeden opted for a cup instead of a cone this time of the same flavor, raspberry, and J got the same in a cone.
I tried the “Creole” flavor (rum raisin) and it blew my pants off. I’m still thinking about it now, more than a day later. It’s going to be hard not to get the Creole when we go back.
Oh yes, we’re going back.
The rest of the day was pretty uneventful. I hit the gym and Juliann took Braeden to the playground at Jardin du Luxembourg for a couple of hours. We had another excellent dinner at Les Patios (my Boef Bourgogne was amazing – can’t wait to order it again) and Braeden actually tried both our meals and ate more of ours than his.
Walking Around The Marais
Today we took the recommendation of some good friends (thanks, Jamie and Ralph!) and did a walking tour with Paris Walks through the Marais.
Our guide, Oriel, was a wonderful Englishwoman with a great sense of humor and encyclopedic knowledge of Parisian neighborhoods. She took us and another couple on a two-hour tour of the Marais, and we loved it.
Braeden was fascinated by the churches and loved running around to explore whenever Oriel would stop and tell us some history. Just being able to stop and appreciate the detail of something so mundane as a drinking fountain was a delight.
One of the things about Europe that’s just so hard to wrap your head around as an American is just how old everything is. I grew up in an 18th-century house in a town that was founded in the 17th century.
It’s difficult to find structures in the continental U.S. much older than that. But here in Paris it seems like even the McDonald’s are in buildings that went up in the 15th century.
We finished our tour in the beautiful Place de Vosges, a gorgeous park surrounded by early 16th-century townhomes. We thanked Oriel and said goodbye, then hit the closest boulangerie for a couple of sandwiches. We returned to the park with our meal and ate while Braeden checked out the playground. He’d climb a little bit, then come running over to take a couple of bites of lunch.
We finished our lunch and hopped the 86 bus back to the Latin Quarter where we settled in for a family nap. I hit the gym, then returned home where we had dinner (J cooked chili! Yum!) and a quiet evening.
After tucking the boy in Juliann and I cracked a bottle of Rose, surfed over to AirBnB, and started working our our next few destinations in France.
We’ll be leaving Paris August 3rd and driving to Caen, where we’ll spend a couple of days touring the beaches of Normandy, and then we’ll head a few hours south to spend a couple of days at Mont St. Michel.
Then we’ll drive back to Paris and hop a train to Annecy, where we’ll be living for a couple of weeks. The plan is to check out the Alps and spend quite a bit of quality time by the lake.
After that it’s on to Aix-en-Provence and Antibes, assuming we don’t change our plans along the way.
2 more weeks left in Paris and so much to do!