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david
and carol
Our Magnificent
Journey | Chapter 1 | Europe 1999 | London, Paris, Venice, Florence |
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Good night's rest after yesterday's first
long walks. Showered, dressed and went downstairs into the small
dining room for coffee, croissants, and baguettes with sweet
butter and jam. Delicious, and oh so French… |
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After le petit dejeuner, we walked
through the narrow streets near our hotel and down towards the
Seine. We were still hungry, but for the flavors of Paris. It
was cold, cloudy, gray and windy. We were glad we brought jackets
along. We strolled past some incredibly huge, ornate buildings
such as the Assemblie Nationale and the Musee d'Orsay, all so
grandiose, majestic and breathtakingly beautiful. We watched
barges slowly make their way down the brown Seine. On the bridge
Pont Royale, which crosses the Seine to the Louvre, we saw a
papier mache art exhibit of American Indians, slaves and settlers,
done by an African artist. Walking across the Pont Royale, we
found ourselves along the Right Bank, and quickly located the
first of bazillions of toilettes for Carol. We continued walking
along the Right Bank, amidst lush flower stalls and pet shops,
then crossed back to the Rive Gauche, or Left Bank. We
were in search of Notre-Dame. It wasn't where we thought it should
be, and after some searching, we found the magnificent cathedral
at the far end of the Isle du Cite, not far from the Palais du
Justice. |
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Although there was much scaffolding along
the ornate and massive front of the cathedral, we were nonetheless
struck by its ancient history and gothic grandeur. Begun in 1163
and "finished" 200 years later, how many generations
of architects had a hand in her construction? How many generations
of Parisians came for salvation? How many weddings and funerals
had this ancient monument held in her bosom? |
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Passing the large statue of Charlemagne, we
walked along the south side and took in the gruesome gargoyles,
many whose heads had literally melted away over centuries of
weather, such a shame. Around the back, in the shadows of the
flying buttresses, I was overcome with emotion and had to sit
for a while. Loving Victor Hugo's great descriptive novels of
life in Paris, and currently re-reading The Hunchback of Notre-Dame,
I could feel the presence of gloomy Dom Claude Frollo in the
shadows and I could sense Quasimodo lurking up in the bell towers
amongst his only companions, the crows and the gargoyles. The
gray sky really helped to set a chilling and gothic mood. To
be in the proximity of these ancient stones, towers, statues,
gargoyles, spires, windows, doors and history was an awesome,
humbling and emotional experience. Long after we are gone, these
same stones will long remain, until the weather has finally reclaimed
all of her. We kept coming back to her during our stay in Paris.
Her attraction is magnetic and irresistible. Truly a monument
among monuments. |
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After much quiet contemplation, and reading
aloud some passages from Hunchback, we walked across the
short Pont St. Louis to Isle de St. Louis, its street lined with
small charming shops selling cheese, wine, candies, soaps, oils,
fruits, olives and vegetables. We had a bite at a tiny and cozy
sandwich shop, then walked up through the Bastille district and
found a street festival with stalls offering garlic, cheeses,
hams and breads, which we happily sampled. Walked further along
into Marais, where we saw a synagogue and many Jews returning
from Saturday morning services. |
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We decided to walk back to the hotel and stopped
at an outdoor café where we had wine and beer and schmoozed
with an American couple who lived and worked for TRW in England
- Ken and April. Had very pleasant conversation and a nice rest,
then bid our friends au revoir and continued on our way
past crowds of people and many, many shops and cafes. I was,
at this time, in search of Cuban cigars. Went into the massive,
famous Samarathine department store (yes, in search of a toilette
for you-know-who,) then out onto the busy Rue des Lombards until
we found a shop where we bought some Camembert and French bread
with the intent of having a small, impromptu picnic. |
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Continuing along, we found a bench near a
park where we stopped and rested and enjoyed our French lunch.
Delicious. A moveable feast, indeed. |
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After our repartee, we strolled further
along the Rue des Lombards where a kind elderly pipe-smoking
Frenchman gladly assisted us with directions. Before we left
him, I took note of his pipe and asked him where one could purchase
Cuban cigars. He smiled, and with a twinkle in his eye pointed
to a sign across the street - Habanas ("Havana.") We
were there in five seconds. Although the female clerk was a bit
snotty, I was died and gone to Havana heaven. We bought $110
U.S. dollars worth of Cohiba Paneteles and a box of Montecristo
minis. I managed to make the minis last the whole trip and enjoyed
quite a few of the nearly priceless Cohibas. I decided to try
to get the remainder of the Cubanos home. Strong and oh
so delicious. The Cubans do know how to make a cigar. |
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Finally made it back to the hotel and took
a mid-afternoon nap, then strolled in the early evening sun to
Montparnasse where we found an outdoor café and had wine
while we watched the Parisians go about their ways as the day
wound down. Hungry, we then discovered a nice-looking brasserie
where we sat inside and had wine, soupe a l'ongion and
cheese. After dinner we moved outside and sat for a good hour
drinking wine, smoked a memorable, tasty Cohiba and watched the
Parisians enjoying a pleasant, cool Saturday evening. We slowly
strolled home, arm-in-arm, through the deserted streets of Paris.
She was ours. |
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copyright 1998 / david
and carol lehrman / all rights reserved |
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email david@davidandcarol.com |
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