Sacre Coeur, Montmartre, Galleries LaFayette - Wednesday

Jet lag sucks. There's not other way to say it - it just sucks.  A whole city is buzzing around you and you are out of sync.


I woke up Wednesday morning at 6 am.  This is so obviously out of character, but I was wide awake so I made tea and got dressed and was out the door around 8 am. I sat and had a leisurely coffee at a cafe on my way up Rue Mont Cenis.  I had studied my map and knew that if I continued straight up this road, I would wind up at Sacre Coeur. I headed up the road around 9 am.


Now, I had heard that Sacre Coeur was on top of a hill, but I had no idea how much of a hill, nor did I know there were more ways than one to climb said hill.  I was going up the back side, which turned out to be all stairs.  Four sets of stairs, each enough to set my lungs ablaze. Damned French and their cigarettes.


I used the excuse to take pictures at the top of each flight, to badly mask the fact that I was about to have a coronary.

Add caption

Once I reached the top, there was a small village of tourist shops and men with sketch pads all wanting to draw me.  "I am inspired, madam." I bet you are.  "I must draw your red hair." Oh lord.  I waded through the small crowd (It was early yet) and rounded a corner to see the side of the cathedral.  I've seen pictures of all sorts of churches but this was impressive.  The scale of the building is enormous.  I walked slowly to the front of the building, but what took my breath away first was the view of the city from here. The city was still under a slight morning mist but you cold see how wide spread the city was.  I turned my attention back to Sacre Coeur.


I'll let the pictures tell you about the exterior.  

We weren't allowed to take photos inside, which is a shame, as the art and skill used inside was magnificent.  The central focus was the basilica, of course - a huge Christ surrounded by all the saints and apostles.  The walk way took us around the side and back of the building, behind the dais. Small alcoves with statues of all sorts of saints for praying to dotted the path. As I neared the other side of the room, a song started and a clear soprano began to sing a hymn.  Mass was starting.  In French, which was a newbie for me.  The priest extended a welcome to everyone and encouraged people to sit and take rest.  


I sat for a bit on the side.  I am not Catholic, but ritual has always fascinated me.  After a few minutes, I made my way back outside and started down the front of the property.


Once at the bottom of the hill I was in Montmartre, the tourist area.  The whole street was lined with your typical shops all screaming for your attention, filled with tacky bric-a-brac of all sorts of shapes and sizes.  It was about 11:30 at this point and I was hungry.  I stopped into a small cafe and ordered a beer.  As I looked at the menu, I knew I was going to get ripped off, so I finished my beer and decided to head out and find a reasonable cafe or bistro further away from the hullabaloo.

I have found that the challenge to getting around Paris on foot is keeping my bearing.  The buildings are just high enough and the streets narrow enough that you can't see anything above.  So I started walking, hoping I was going the right direction.  I wasn't, of course, and turned myself around.  I wanted to get to Les Galleries Lafayette, which is a high end shopping mall.  I assumed i would find somewhere to eat along the way. 


 I finally got headed in the right direction and grabbed a seat at a brasserie cloes to the mall. I barely got "Bonjour" out when the waiter asked, in French, "Language, please?"  Uh.  English, I guess.  I certainly could have handled a French menu, but whatever.  I was sat on a banquette next to three other single diners. Nods and smiles were politely passed.  A glass of wine and a Croque Monsieur ordered, I checked my phone for messages and the time. 1 pm.  Not bad. 


My food came out promptly, but was a bit disappointing.  The salad was limp and the Croque Monsieur was dry. At least the wine was good. The place was packed with Parisians, so I assumed I just ordered the wrong thing.  I paid my 11 Euros and headed acorss the street to the mall.


Now some people may think it's tacky to go to a mall in Paris.  But you haven't seen this mall.  It's all designer and the building itself is a masterpiece.  A gorgeous dome made of stained glass hovers above the cosmetics and accessories on the first floor, surrounded by floors and floors of fashion looking down into the atrium.  Menswear is in another building, so the place is filled with women.  Each floor has a small cafe looking over the atrium, one an organic cafe, one a lunch counter and one, ooooh yes, a champagne bar. Ding ding ding.


I took a quick walk through a couple of floors, but I suddenly was hit with a wall of fatigue.  I needed to lie down and sleep in the worst way.  I found my way to the Metro station and was relieved to see that my Metro line - #4, was direct and I wouldn't have to transfer.  This is a very good thing and made my day more than once during my trip.


Back to the hotel and I was out like a light.  Jet lag got the best of me, as well as just needing a rest.  I was asleep at 4 pm, woke up briefly at 10 pm, and slept thorugh to morning.  When I awoke, I didn't have that overslept-feeling.  I was rested and at that moment, was on Paris time.