... the (sacred) heart of the matter ...

when i was visiting with graham and mary (old friends, you see) at the moulin rouge last week, i asked if they would share their "must see whilst in paris" list with me. in unison, they said: the sacre-coeur, or the basilica of the sacred heart of paris, located at the summit of the butte montmarte, the highest point in the city. interestingly enough (and not surprising, by any means), this landmark was already on my (auspicious) list of places to visit while in the city. and a plan-for-the-day emerges.

before i go on, two things: 1) i love how white my teeth look in this picture (another coffee-maker  + camera's self-timer creation -- and what i looked like the morning i set out to see the sacre-coeur); and 2) i wasn't totally sold on this shirt when i bought it from the old navy, but i've noticed many a lady wearing flannel prints, both in london and in paris, suggesting that i may, in fact, have just a little bit of style. and now the shirt is one of my new favorites (i'm even wearing it right now as i write this, and it's at least three days later!).

back to the sacre-coeur adventure. in order to get some energy for the three mile walk before me, i stopped at the patisserie around the corner (my favorite little bakery, less than a block from the flat) and picked up breakfast (natasha!), a chocolate filled croissant (the official parisian breakfast, for real, really). as you walk the streets of paris, you see many, many, many people enjoying their morning (afternoon and evening) croissants, or chunks of their recently purchased baguettes, or their classic baguette sandwiches, purchased from either street vendors or boulangeries (for the record, i took part in all three cultural practices, though i never did quite get the hang of eating and walking at the same time -- clearly, much better at attacking the sandwich in private).

the walk from the flat (in the bastille neighborhood, remember) to montmarte takes you right through the the place de le republique, a public square in paris, located on the border of the 3rd, 10th, and 11th arrondissements. here, you find the statue of the republic, a woman shrouded in heavy clothing, wearing the the traditional phrygian cap, holding a branch in her hand. the woman is marianne, a symbol of the french republic and its values (her head also appears on the postage stamps, euro coins, and wine-bottle wrappers). the statues of liberty, equality, and fraternity, the three major symbols of the republic, stand with their backs against the pedestal.



















most recently, the square was the starting place for the paris march, led by relatives of the victims of the charlie hebdo attacks. more than 40 world leaders joined the rally, linking arms in an act of solidarity, and an estimated 1.6 million people took part in this march, including me (photo courtesy of the bbc).

i don't mean to gloss over this tremendous event, this tremendous moment in history -- the truth is, i'm still trying to find the right words to describe what it was like to be present in paris during this time (and i'll likely come back to this in the coming days, as i filter through all of the events from the last three weeks in my mind). for now, all i can say is je suis charlie, nou sommes charlie ...

one of the benefits of walking the city of paris, is you get an intimate feel for the various neighborhoods and how they resemble and, contrarily, differ from one another. as i walked past the republique and got closer to montmarte, i noticed a distinct change in the neighborhood feel (particularly compared to the bastille, marais, and other left bank neighborhoods) -- rick steves describes the feel as both "slightly seedy and trendy" (and i'd agree). like other places, the sidewalks were crowded with people: some of whom were hustling and bustling to get to where they were going; and some of whom where lingering on street corners, enjoying their morning smokes and sipping from bottles concealed in brown paper sacks. the atmosphere felt more working class, too, than the other neighborhoods through which i'd been traipsing. and, most notable (what i remember the most, at least), the area felt alive, alive in a way that was distinctly different than other areas (perhaps because i wasn't in the heart of paris' touristville neighborhood anymore?).

i finally made it to square d'anvers (square of antwerp), a major metro station and the point from which i began my ascent up the cobblestone paved hill leading to sacre-coeur. this part of town is known for being overly tourist-y (well, and why wouldn't it be? all of the travel books i perused glorified the panoramic paris view to be had from the summit), characterized by winding cobblestone stone paths and impressive views of the majestic sacre-coeur, the white basilica overlooking the city. this is all true (though, when i was there, it wasn't overly crowded, probably because it was a dismal day (only in terms of the elements) in the middle of january) and it's still a place i'd recommend visiting.



just as i reached the final staircase to entry, the sky opened and big, cold raindrops began to fall; perfect timing, as the basilica offered a peaceful and glorious respite from the rain. i followed rick steves' guided tour of the interior, stopping to marvel at the statue of st. therese; colorful mosaics, depicting the stations of the cross; stained glass windows; and images of joan of arc (i even stopped to rub st. peter's bronze foot for good luck). again, no photography was allowed inside the chapel -- and, this time, the attendants were keeping their eyes out for rule breakers and i did not want to be the subject of a sharp (and very public) call to madame! followed by a wagging finger, so i kept my phone in my pocket. i get it, though, while i find beauty and mystique in the various art forms decorating the church and am completely mesmerized by the sheer amount of time and attention to detail it takes to build something like the sacre-coeur (we don't invest like this in our buildings today), it is still a sacred space for many faithful believers, a place of worship, and a place of holiness, a place of peace that ought not be disturbed by the clicking and flashes of cameras.

and the view of the city is impressive (another one worth the climb), just as all the travel guides suggest. in this photo, i especially like the contrast of the white buildings against the grey sky. my only regret is missing the climb up to the dome of the church (another 300 steps and the highest point in the city). only after leaving, did i learn this was a possibility. next time.

next time.