Les Catacombs

In the late 18th century, France faced a period of political upheaval (The French Revolution). This revolution, centered mostly in Paris, was extremely violent, and lead the city to virtually overflow with bodies. There were so many bodies that the Parisians ran out of room in which to bury them. To solve this problem, a number of cemeteries, most famously the Cemetery of the Innocents, were emptied to make room. Under the cover of night, bodies were dug up, and priests carted the bodies into the cities former limestone quarries - quarries which centuries earlier had been used to build such structures as Notre Dame. The bones were stacked on top of one another in these underground tunnels, creating a massive grave beneath the city.

Today, the Catacombs exist as an extensive series of tunnels beneath the city, lined with the skeletal remains of the city's former inhabitants. Many of these bodies now rest unmarked, in the very tunnels from which they extracted the rock to construct their lives' work.



It is rather difficult to get a good picture in the Catacombs. Flashes are strictly prohibited, and light is scarce.



Look closely in this one, you may see a ghost!

Paris II

By the morning of the second day in Paris I was tired and worn. My body was aching. My feet were blistered, my shoulders were sore, and I could feel the sweat from the day before lingering on my skin. I hardly felt as if I could take another day like the one before it. But somehow it worked out. I mustered the energy to get out of bed, showered, and made my way to the Metro.

My first stop was to be Montmartre, a vibrant, once very artistic quarter - now more of a tourist trap, but still worth going. Unfortunately, I got off at the wrong Metro exit. Normally in Paris this is not a big deal. If you get off at the wrong Metro exit, often the one you meant to get off at is only a block or two away. However, for those of you who don't already know, Montmartre is located on the top of a massive hill in the center of Paris. If you exit the Metro on the correct side of the hill, you can take a lift to the top. If you exit on the incorrect side, you have to take the stairs.

Having never been to Paris, let alone Montmartre, I was completely lost. According to the Metro map, I wasn't far from Montmartre. But I certainly wasn't in the legendary Parisian art district. As I approached the stairs (which I now know lead to Montmartre) I began to hear church bells. Knowing that the Sacre Couer is in Montmartre, I knew the district must be that way; however, the idea of walking those steps on that morning was unbearable. I could hardly fathom the feat as a possibility. Still, I mustered the courage and the will, and began mounting the steps to Montmartre, bells to the Sacre Couer chiming as I climbed.

When I reached the top I rested. I sat down, drank my water, and ate a sandwich I had bought that morning at a local grocery store in Laumiere. I watched tourists snap photos of the view, and knew that I'd done something they hadn't. I knew that I'd earned my right to that view. I'd earned my place, if only for the day, in Montmartre. I stood, snapped a photo, and headed to the heart of the quarter, the Sacre Couer.



Reaching the Sacre Couer, I was exhausted. I'd hardly slept more than eight or nine hours since I'd left Louisville on the 19th. Today was the 21st. I stopped, sat down on the steps outside the church, and admired the view. Nearly the entire city of Paris can be seen from this vantage.

Eventually I stood up, and walked inside the church. As I entered, I realized mass was in progress. At first I thought this odd. No where else I'd been had been holding Mass. Then it dawned on me. It was Sunday morning. This was Sunday morning mass. I sat at an empty pew, expecting to sit only for a moment, but could not get back up. Mass in such an incredible structure, even in a language which I speak very little of, was overpowering. I was in awe. Absolute awe. I sat through the entire mass before making my way around the rest of the basilica, and then exited via the front doors.



After leaving the Sacre Couer, I wandered for some time about the quarter of Montmartre. I watched musicians play, artists sketch, and people carry about in restaurants and shops. I bought a scarf, a painting, and walked through the Espace Dali (a museum of Salvadore Dali's early work).

Leaving Montmartre, I walked down the hundreds of steps of the "correct" side, and wandered to the nearest Metro station. From there I took a train to Montparnasse, had a baguette with tuna, and got in line for the Catacombs. What I did not realize was that the line for the Catacombs moves very slowly, and the caverns are shut and locked at 4:00 pm. I waited in line for about 45 minutes, and was then not permitted to enter. I had to wait until Tuesday morning before I would be able to return.

I did, however, snap a cool picture of this Lion statue in Montparnasse:



That night was the Fete de Musique, an annual music festival in Paris where the entire city comes alive. People are playing bongos and guitars at restaurants, and people from the street come and gather round. A number of bands and DJs set up around the banks of the canal. Everybody drinks and dances. I danced until the sun went down and all the restaurants closed their doors.

The next day I headed to the Latin Quarter, a vibrant center of learning where many university students may be found, as well as the head of the University of Paris system (kind of like the University of California, it is broken up into a number of different campuses, but work under the same university umbrella), The Sorbonne.

After this, I headed to Sainte Chapelle and the Palais Justice. I had to pay to get in, and did not think it was worth it. Also, a very rude German couple tried to cut me in line. I was not happy about that.



Jill and I went to dinner that night at a small restaurant not far from the canal. We had kippers, which were not good, and steak, which was wonderful. We talked to a woman about the Sans Papiers (Without Papers), illegal immigrants who are allowed to live and work, and do pay taxes in France, but are not given any rights by the government. The majority of them are African immigrants from former French colonies.

Afterwards, Jill and I walked back to the hostel, and I went to bed rather early that night.

Paris

My first day in Paris:

The first night, despite not having slept since I left the airport in Louisville (so, nearly 30 hours), I had a hard time sleeping. Still jet-lagged, my body decided to interpret my sleep - which in Kentucky would have been sometime in the evening, but was actually around 10:30 in France - as a nap. The result: only about 3 hours of sleep. However, this allowed me to be up and about as the sun rose on the Villette Canal, which runs into the Seine. I took a walk in the crisp morning air, and snapped a few photos. I also bought a metro pass, which allowed me to move with ease around the city for the next five days.



After taking a morning walk, I headed back to the hostel for breakfast, and met up with Jill, my traveling companion. We had a quick meal, and headed out for a day of exploration. We literally hit nearly every major tourist attraction in Paris within a matter of hours. The following photographs are from the first day:

We first headed to Le Musee du Louvre, which was absolutely enormous. I spent most of my time with the Greek, Roman, and Egyptian art. After about four hours I was exhausted. So was Jill, and we left.



Leaving the Louvre, Jill and I walked the Champs-Elysee (about two miles) to the Arch de Triomph. It was far larger than I had ever fathomed, not to mention far more incredible



We took the metro from there to the Eiffel Tower.



And then to the Cathedral of Notre Dame de Paris.



I spent the rest of the night relaxing and drinking with Parisians on the Canal near our hostel. It was Friday night, and the river's edge was crowded with people, all sitting in circles by the water, smoking cigarettes, and drinking wine and eating crackers and chips. I talked American politics and British literature with a French woman, and listened to a couple of men playing the blues on a bench by the sidewalk.

Update

I have arrived in Paris.

Preparing for Departure

I leave for Paris in just a few short days. In the last few weeks I 1). moved out of my apartment, and 2.) worked a temporary job for College Board (Advanced Placement Testing) to raise money for this trip. For now I am spending my remaining time in the States with family and friends, lazing about in Louisville's public parks (Cherokee and Long Run), and desperately trying to finish my reading before I leave - not going to happen. I am close, though. Aside from the primary works listed previously, I am also reading through a few of the numerous secondary sources listed by my Shakespeare professor, Dr. John O'Conner. Most notably, The Cambridge Companion to Shakespeare on Film. I am also working through Shakespeare & Co. (Stanley Wells), a book given to me by an English professor of mine from Bellarmine. My next update should be from Europe, so until then, Au Revoir.

Moving...

I am moving out of my apartment next week. Recently I have just been packing. Going to St. Louis this weekend.

Summer Reading

Over the last few weeks, basically since school got out, I have been both packing and reading. I'm trying to get all of my stuff boxed up, and at the end of the month am moving it to my mother's house.

Since I have nothing exciting to blog about just yet, thought I would post my reading list:

Shakespeare: Hamlet, Romeo and Juliet, The Merchant of Venice, and Henry V.



Jane Austen: Pride and Prejudice, Emma, and Mansfield Park.