Hugo saved Notre Dame with Hunchback, so writers can have great impact, but what am I going to tell you about Paris? Writers and artists and photographers for ages have captured her spirit better than I ever could.
It was rainy and chilly, which dampened not our enthusiasm, our energy or our exuberance for Paris.
Only there seven days we did not see it all, but checked off many of the greatest hits: the Louvre, the Orangerie, Versailles, the Rodin, les Invalides, the Conciergerie. Sacre Coeur, Notre Dame, Sainte Chapelle. The Eiffel Tower, The Arc de Triomphe.
We delighted at Deyrolle, received a C- from our guide on the Fat Tire Bike Tour, ate our weight in bread and pastries and bowed down to the French teacher who was our guide; she made the entire visit both spectacular and spectacularly easy.
And through all of it I marveled at the floors and steps, some tile, some marble worn into indentations deep enough to offer a dog a good, long drink. After all those feet upon those treads, what can I tell you of Paris?
Labels: Out and About