We wake up on the national holiday, Bastille Day, and head down to the parade that symbolises the storming of the Bastille during the French Revolution.
It is a parade of all the military and air vehicles. A display of power, I suppose.
I snap this picture of a police bus. Wouldn't that be fun to ride. What is it for? Troops?
We head over to the Latin Quarter just south of
Notre Dame and find a whole street of little quaint French restaurants.
Of course, being our last day it is my chance to eat cheese fondue. YUM! Unfortunately one of my young companions thought it smelled horrible and sat as far away from me and my luxurious lunch as possible.
The fondue must be washed down with wine or a fizzy drink so as not to form a cheese lump in ones stomach. This thought makes Nigel nauseated. I have never heard of that before.
Notre Dame is large and spectacular from the outside.
And enchanting from the inside.
We are limited by what is open on Bastille Day so decide (since churches are about the only thing open) to head over to
Sacre Coeur next.
We join the throngs heading up the narrow streets to the hill top.
It proudly sits on top with a huge circus of activity surrounding it all. In fact, the contrast from the outside to the inside is startling. There are all sorts of really
agressive peddlars outside selling junk, dance groups, musicians, and even a ferris wheel. Once inside there is an austere and strict
presence. No pictures. Be quiet. keep moving. We watch a man take a picture and be bawled out by a church member. It doesn't leave a nice impression at all.
But Paris itself is wonderful. I like the city and would come back, although, am with Nigel in our belief that there are so many new places to see that repeating doesn't always make sense. I take consolation that it is close to London...and who knows!
We wake up on the national holiday, Bastille Day, and head down to the parade that symbolises the storming of the Bastille during the French Revolution.
It is a parade of all the military and air vehicles. A display of power, I suppose.
I snap this picture of a police bus. Wouldn't that be fun to ride. What is it for? Troops?
We head over to the Latin Quarter just south of Notre Dame and find a whole street of little quaint French restaurants.
Of course, being our last day it is my chance to eat cheese fondue. YUM! Unfortunately one of my young companions thought it smelled horrible and sat as far away from me and my luxurious lunch as possible.
The fondue must be washed down with wine or a fizzy drink so as not to form a cheese lump in ones stomach. This thought makes Nigel nauseated. I have never heard of that before.
Notre Dame is large and spectacular from the outside.
And enchanting from the inside.
We are limited by what is open on Bastille Day so decide (since churches are about the only thing open) to head over to Sacre Coeur next.
We join the throngs heading up the narrow streets to the hill top.
It proudly sits on top with a huge circus of activity surrounding it all. In fact, the contrast from the outside to the inside is startling. There are all sorts of really agressive peddlars outside selling junk, dance groups, musicians, and even a ferris wheel. Once inside there is an austere and strict presence. No pictures. Be quiet. keep moving. We watch a man take a picture and be bawled out by a church member. It doesn't leave a nice impression at all.
But Paris itself is wonderful. I like the city and would come back, although, am with Nigel in our belief that there are so many new places to see that repeating doesn't always make sense. I take consolation that it is close to London...and who knows!
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