And the End is a New Beginning

Now, to try and make some sense of all this.

The final journey home was blessedly uneventful and now all there is to do is cope for a couple days with jet lag. It is good to be home.

I didn't blaze any new trails in Europe. From what I can gather, many of you have been to each and every place that I have been. We concentrated on Cathedrals, Mosques, churches, things of antiquity and sights of the big cities. Pretty standard stuff. I promise not to hit you with it all in the coming weeks and in fact, all of this takes a back seat to the 200th Anniversary Celebrations of Dublin Community Church over the next month.

Two hundred seems so young compared to the world in which we have been traveling for the past eight weeks. Like just this past week in Paris. We wanted to see a couple churches around the Latin Quarter. That was easy to do, just walked in from the Seine and follow the city map and find youself there. 

One church was a thousand years old. The building was a thousand years old. The church building down the street about 10 minutes was merely 700 years old. Both gave their neighborhoods a signature piece of architecture and a central point for their faith and their daily lives.

The most awe inspiring notion of seeing these great cathedrals is that they existed at all. Many were built so many years ago by so many tradesmen and town people and so much money was spent and so many years went by and so many events stopped and started construction.

You get the idea. Churches were signs of the times. They soared higher as peoples lives seemed to be mired in serfdom and engaged the eye with artistic beauty as the Renaissance took hold and artists worked their considerable skills at building, painting and carving.

The rich rewarded the community with art. The church fathers wove a path between faith and community leadership and worked with the most lowly and made war with the most mighty. The average town and city dweller tried to steer a path through it all. We still do.

What remains for me are a collection of this and that and my hope is that I'll be able to convey what I have seen and that it might help us all understand what place faith in God plays in our everyday lives.

I'll remember many, many things and have no complete list at the moment as to what I saw. But Makaila and I have marveled and smiled at much of what we saw.

Most humble chapel. That's easy. An Orthodox chapel in Istanbul beneath a modern fish restaurant. Light a candle. Go upstairs, enjoy a fish dinner. I suppose the owners of the restaurant were Orthodox.

Most grand Cathedral. That's easy. St. Peter's in Rome. Every inch was over the top. Every inch was astounding. Every inch was so grand in its scale that it was unbelievable. And that was probably just the point of it. I think it is safe to assume the owners are Catholic.

Most Incredible Architectural Cathedral (without resorting to hallucinogins) La Sagrada Familia in Barcelona. What was this guy thinking? No matter. It is amazing.

Favorite Mosque. This is just a judgement call. Suleymanye Mosque in Istanbul. Just loved it. Not exactly sure why. And....was able to keep my own shoes. Always a plus.

Most Unexpected Delightful City. Lisbon. I had no particular expectations for this. I just wanted to see a bit of that part of Iberia. Which leads to the next category...

Most Monuments per Square Inch of City...dedicated to Architects. Lisbon. This city either had a great appreciation for the artistry of architects or architects had some mysterious cabal which ran the city at one time.

Most Cathedrals per Square Inch of City. Rome.

Most Cathedrals Hugging the Sidewalk and Which were Almost Unnoticeable among all the City Traffic. Rome...and yet each was a masterpiece.

Best Museum. The Jewish Museum in Athens.

Most Disturbing Fact of the Area in Which I Traveled. Christians and Muslims trading conquering techniques and kicking each other out of the Iberian Peninsula depending on who was in power. I said this was disturbing. Not surprising. Helps to put today's struggles in perspective. Which leads to the next category....

Architectural Wonder that You Couldn't Predict. The Mesquitza in Cordoba, Spain. Christians build a church. Muslims take over. Tear down church. Kick Christians out. Build beautiful mosque on site. Christians take over. Kick Muslims out. Build beautiful Cathedral in the center (!) of the mosque but can't bring themselves to tear down the beautiful mosque itself. The result? A cathedral in the middle of a mosque.

St. Denis at St. Peter's

Best Simple Food. A little walk-up kebap stand in Athens.

Best Sit Down Italian Food. A bar in Barcelona, Spain.

Best City to Find a Good Meal at Any Time at Any Place in the City. Istanbul. Who knew? Lots of people. Lots of restaurants. Lots of neighborhood restaurants. Menus with pictures. Sit down. Point. Eat.

Favorite Outdoor Cafe. A simple Kebap place in the shadow the Alhambra in Granada.

Favorite Tapas Bar. A semi-fancy, unpretentious place near the Jewish Quarter of the Old City in Cordoba, Spain.

Best Beach Scene. Makaila prefers Barcelona. I prefer Malaga, Spain. Keep in mind this was winter, so we are projecting as to how "Rockin'" these places would be in July.

Best Piazza's. Where else? Rome.

Best "Old City" for tourists and history. Every city. So much has been "preserved."

Define 'Historic Sight." Something "preserved" or "historical" seems to be rather fluid. If you read carefully or read between the lines of any historical sight, you'll find that it has been heavily recreated, rebuilt, restored, repainted, re-architected. Time tends to tear down and what we see today as "historical" is probably rather accurate but it is greatly "enhanced." That is OK...just don't think that the Acropolis is the Acropolis because it remains....it remains because huge portions of it have been rebuilt. If they weren't rebuilt...we would never have any idea of where we came from.

There is much more. But I will spare you the details. I appreciate that many of you stayed with me and I suspect that a number of readers dipped into my writings every now and then. That is fine. I had a couple colleagues write and say, "yeah, we noticed your stuff but we don't have time to read it." Fair enough. I think I would find it daunting to read all this stuff too. But, I wrote it for myself and was merely inviting you along for the journey. 

Could you accomplish this by yourselves? We were not far off the tourist trail but we negotiated it pretty much on our own. You could do the same, but we had an advantage in that we went to Europe in the winter. Take a small computer. Book hotels online and make sure they have Wifi. Free Wifi is better. If your hotel's wifi is down and the bar next door has it. Use that. (Don't try and access your local bank account though.) Book a week or two ahead by using Expedia or Travelocity. Read up with RicK Steve's Travel Books. Take a Kindle and download every thing you need to read for pleasure and travel guides. Carry a Lonely Planet Guide. Buy pocket sized guides once you hit your destination. Assume that the city map handed you by your hotel will be the best map. Better than anything you purchased before hand. Use them.

Find the biggest tourist draw in the city and see it. Then go two blocks away and really experience the city. Walk to feel the place. Take public transport to get around quickly. Don't know the language? They probably know a smattering of English. Want to buy something or eat something? Language is not barrier. They know that look in your eye and the owners will work magic for a sale and you'll be treated fairly. Smile. Speak slowly (not loudly). Point. Thank them in the local language. Tip for good service.

Probably a good lesson for anything in life.

Peace,  Bob

Let Them Eat...La Pomme de Terre Savoyarde

"Make sure you get to Versailles" Everyone told us.

"Versailles" being the great palace/estate of Louis 14th, 15th, 16th. Apparently Louis the 13th had the property in the family but Louis the 14th, went all out, spent the family and countries treasure and upgraded the place.

Today, the train line stops at Versailles and folks like me walk two blocks to the most sumptuous (and outlandish) display of royal splendor that Europe had ever seen.

We knew we were in for crowds when it the parking lot was filled with tour busses on a Tuesday afternoon in mid March.

But the entry was organized. We had our tickets and we soon had our audio guides in our hands and were wandering room by room as the history of the Frence Royal Court in the 17th & 18th centuries unfolded before us.

According to what I understand, Louis the 14th wanted to "wow" and distract and entertain his French Royal court and the courtesans of other nations. And to do so, he left his place in Paris and went to the outskirts of the city and built this estate to envelope his followers and adversaries so that he and he alone could control the country. His reasoning was, if the courtiers were occupied with the pleasures of royal life, he would be free to direct the affairs of government.

I think he may have had a big ego too.

The sheer size of this palace/estate is unbelievable. Walk and walk and walk through the palace. Each room is more "royal" than the next. My favorite "sight" was knowing that Louis 14th considered it his royal duty to be on display for his subject. When he and his queen dined. The Royal Court would crowd into the second floor dining room and watch, simply watch the Monarchs eat. Like an actor in a Broadway play....the Court would stand and watch their King and Queen eat. Little wonder the populace revolted years later.

But, if the palace was sumptuous, the estate grounds were unbelievable. There are states in New England that are smaller. We walked and walked and only saw a small portion of the estate which today is beloved by the French and is open to the public like any park. There is a cost, but it is well worth it to bicycle, jog, watch the geese, observe the gardens (which, here in late winter are of course, not yet blooming).

Marie-Antoinette tired of court life with King Louis the 16th and converted the "recreational residence" of King Louis the 14th on the back of the estate to her own personal palace. It is much smaller than the main palace and is located about a half mile in the back of the property. And when the Queen tired of her own personal palace she had a quaint French village built so that she could act out her own "back to the land" dreams.

But, the French people and the Revolution had other dreams. The palace was stormed and most of the furniture was "liberated" by the people. Today, we are viewing the re-creations of what the palace must have looked like for the French Court.

After eight weeks of viewing countless cathedrals, the art and "over the top" aspect of Versailles seemed to be just another European excess.

It is an understatement to say that the rulers of European nations and rulers of the Church in lived in a different world. I mean that literally and figuratively.

             After being entertained by the King of France, we decided to dine on the Champs Elysee.
Yet, it was so different that I was intrigued see where we have come from, for myself

Peace,  Bob

Liberte, Egalite, Patisserie

Paris is pretty hard to compete with when you have things like the Eiffel Tower and Notre Dame and the Louvre. (Oh, and the world reknowed flea market on the Rue de la Martyrs near our hotel)

We have not caught everything there is; that would take a lifetime. Our hope was that we could get a feel for the city as we wandered. But there was one area in particular that we wanted to see...the Latin Quarter and/or the Left Bank. I am not certain if there is a dividing line on those two areas or if the former is a part of the latter. 

The Left Bank is named so because it was on a riverman's left side, when he was floating downriver on the Seine. The Latin Quarter is on the Left Bank because the Sorbonne is there. The Students of the Sorbonne spoke Latin until the 17th Century (or some such century). I heard very little Latin spoken around there, mostly French and if you blindfolded me and set me down along any one of the thousand cafes along the streets I would swear I was along a US college campus. (Except for the French language, and the men wearing scarves, and everyone drinking latte and not Miller Lite and eating croissants and not subs and motor scooters, and everyone looking self consciously pretentious....but besides that....the Latin Quarter is any college USA. Never saw anyone near the Sorbonne wearing a Buckeye necklace or Scarlet and Gray either.)

I liked the area. It is quite tourist-friendly and I suppose that anyone who comes to Paris and wanders the Left Bank is captured by it all and goes home and feels like they have touched the pulse of the city. I know I will. But, besides the high-end tourist ammenities and bookshops which, for some reason are mainly in a foreign language, which proves how pretentious the French are, it is great fun to just wander and see how the streets curve and alleys have become restaurant rows and establishments, some of which actually saw the Revolution, are still in existence today.

By late afternoon, something rare happened....the sun came out. It is then that Paris leapted into the guide books and romance movies. Everyone found a spot along the Seine to sit casually and appear as if they were meant to inhabit the river scene. The cafes surrounding the Notre Dame were packed. Some photo shoot was taking place with "fashion models" and camera crew and make up artists and director (everyone wearing the obligatory black ensambles). Sandwiches, drinks and pizza's appeared in everyones hands and the talk was lively as the sun finally hit the streets.

We, very much enjoyed it too and I returned to the Notre Dame plaza to take a few pictures. And then we walked the Ile Saint Louis behind the cathedral and journied back to the Left Bank for dinner.


I wanted one final try at seeing the Sacre-Coeur (Sacred Heart Cathedral) near our hotel. Its views of Paris are legendary and by night the place was swarming with Parisians. We took the Metro back to our neighborhood. Walked up the street and wandered. I was surprised at the number of people and the number of restaurants tucked in behind the Sacre-Coeur. And along the front, off to the side a bit, we found a view of the Eiffel Tower, several miles off to the southwest. We stood and waited for the Tower to flash its twinkling lights, which it does for 5 minutes, the first of every hour.

At 8 pm the lights burst forth and Makaila and I smiled and "Ooo'ed and Ahhh'ed" just like the Parisians.

 

Peace, Bob

Brushstrokes

Our hotel street is canyon-like with six-story buildings lining each side of the street. About 5 in the afternoon we heard what appeared to be a brass band coming up the street. Turns out it was three men, two had trumpets, one had a type of harmonica....pulling a boom box. The boom box had the background music for a "Tijuana Brass Type" song. The three trumpeters and the harmonica guy played along. They were quite good. Their music resonated as it bounced among the buildings.
I opened our fourth story windows for a better look and sound. They looked up at the apartments and hotel rooms for people and many tossed out coins.
I knew that if I tossed them a 20 Euro note they would bemoan their fate.
I tossed a 2 Euro coin from the fourth floor window....narrowly missing the parked Jag below. The street musicians acknowledged the contribution and continued playing as they wandered up the street.
You gotta be creative to be a street artist in Paris.


We were pleased to see that the neighborhood street fair/second-hand flea market was still on for Sunday. It did pose a problem when walking the four blocks to get out of our area but it was great to be in on a typical Parisian event, one that tourists would not know about.

But about six blocks away as we got closer to the Saint Madeleine area we hit another street side flea market. They are pretty much like any flea market you would find in the States. Granted, they were a bit heavy with old French lanuage magazines and perhaps a few more copies of Josephine Baker at the Follies than one would find in the Short North, but otherwise, lots of fun.

My eyes glaze over when I try to find or buy something at an auction or flea market. I love being there and being among the people but I am not a buyer....a looker is all. But, Makaila went to work.

After a while, she found THE old necklace to remember her week in Paris. The seller was a young man who switched to English quickly and said it was 25 Euros...."best price....20 Euros." Sold. Wrap it up. He didn't even have to moan about being handed a 20 Euro note since it WAS 20 Eruos.

Down the block Makaila found a small key that would go great on a small necklace chain. The older couple knew little English but everyone knows 5 fingers or 7 fingers and with that, Makaila had a 7 Euro small-key necklace and we were off to the Eiffel Tower.

Have you ever seen a movie where the beautiful woman or the high school prom goer slowly and grandly makes an entrance into the room with her gorgeous gown. The music swells and all eyes are focus on the stars beauty (yes, yes, this scenario goes both ways....sometimes we see the gorgeous man slowly enter the casino where he will soon wreak havoc on the international villans but before that we have to see him in his Tux with Cartier cuff links). Anyway.....I, like you have seen photos of the Eiffel Tower since I was three. And since then we have known it was in Paris. At age 60 I am finally there. I am not about to appoach it via a crowded nearby neighborhood street.

So we head for the Louvre Area. Cross the Seine and begin to see the Tower make its "entance" in the distance.

We keep walking so that we can walk strait towards it along whatever boulevard goes to it and....we get closer.

We are getting more and more impressed as we near the structure but are baffled by the stone/dirt/dust all the way to the Tower. Back in the state of Washington where we lived in the extreme NE Corner of that state, we would get a lot of snow up there near the Canadian border. The road department, in order to keep the roads passable, would plow and "sand" the highways with this pebble and dust concoction. It was great for winter time driving. By some odd stroke of fate, I find that the boulevard gardens leading up to the Eiffel Tower in Paris has this same road mixture. But this is Paris.

When the wind kicked up...so did the dust. Both in Metaline Falls, Washington and in Paris France. Is Paris behind the times or is Metaline Falls a trend setter? I was expecting cobble stones and maybe mosaic tiled sidewalks. Lisbon has those....everywhere. But Paris.....in front of the Eiffel Tower.....has had the road crew of Pend O' Rey County Washington level and grade and distribute road pebbles for the Eiffel Tower. Metaline Falls had a huge cement plant in town and it left klinker dust all over the town....the same stuff blowing around near the Eiffel Tower.

I was the only one at the Eiffel Tower on Sunday thinking of the road clearing effects of sand and cement dust. Most everyone else was focused on the Tower. We soon were too.

It was startlingly beautiful. And the crowds were not bad. We got in line and within 20 minutes were on the second level (the top was closed, but would open later.) I think level two gave us all the sights we needed. It was great fun. I am not certain how crowded the railings could get on an August day and the railings were all pretty much occupied, but we could easily shift from one side of the Tower to the other. Each time marvelling at the view of Paris and the Seine.

How many views does one need? I had to take in enough to last me for the rest of my life. I tip my hat to Paris for such a marvelous structure, even as I try to clear the cement dust from my eyeballs. We decided to walk the stairs down from the second level. It was easy and enjoyable...especially passing the tourists who had started at the first level and then walked to the second. They were puffing.

And once back down on the ground, I decided I had seen enough men selling Eiffel Tower models to last me a life time. But we headed across the Seine and found a park bench and sat and marveled at the Tower as we ate lunch. It does not even appear to be made of steel. It's like someone took a brush and painted it delicately on the landscape. The most impressive human-made structure that I have seen. It was hard to leave it. We kept taking photos from this and that angle.

We took in as much of the Eiffel Tower as we could and then turned our backs on it and slowly walked the neighborhoods over to the Champs Elysee.

Peace,  Bob

Keep the Change....If You Can Get It

We needed information on taking the RER to Versailles in a couple days. We were standing outside the Staint-Georges Metro Station. We looked at the map and thought we had it figured out. Lots of transfers along the way to get to the RER line. We walked into the Metro. There was a man sitting at an "I" Information Booth. Perfect! I walked up to him and said, "We are going from this station-St. Michaels- to Versailles. What are the transfer points?

He took a subway map.

Circled "Saint-Georges Station"

Circled "Versailles Station"

Said nothing.

Handed it to me.

Turned back to his computer.

A good friend gave us a tip about visiting Paris. "Get off the main tourist routes and see the neighborhoods too."

Like any big city-tourist destination, the crowds gather around "the" attractions. I know I love being on the Golden Gate Bridge, but there are also about 60,000 others on any day there also. I enjoy roaming the sidestreets and neighorhoods of SF. So, with my friends advice and my own experience, we decided we had to do the same in Paris. Indeed, we have been to the Notre Dame, The Arc de Triomph and walked along the Seine and more. Later today we will finally get to the Eiffle Tower. (Someone said we really should make it there.) But, Saturday was for walking around the Montemart area or our neighborhood, the Opera district. Wherever we are....we were going to walk around it. Plus our neighborhood has a couple major draws also.

Remember that street fair/flea market which we thought was coming to our neighborhood, well it is here on Saturday and Sunday. I suppose it is like most flea market/second hand/collectors gatherings. It's rather interesting to see it wedged into a street which is about as wide as the hallway outside my office.

What the street department did was eliminate parking and the stalls set along each side of the street. That allowed just enough walking space between the regular shops and the flea market stalls for one or two people to walk. This being crowded Paris; the locals didn't seem to notice the cramped space. If you stopped to look, you had to look behind you to make certain you the people walking behind you noticed that you had stopped. It was crowded. If you wanted some great second (or third or fourth) hand furniture, old art prints, scarves, collectable watches, statues or whatever, this was the place. Is your home decor lacking that certain ceramic bust of Stalin or Lenin? You could find it just down the street from our hotel.

It was great fun. I nearly bought a Charles de Gaulle hat. Hard to describe but you see pictures of him and the Resistance Army sweeping into Paris and he is wearing this typical French Military Hat. Very cool. Probably not something I would be wearing to the next Buckeye tailgater anyway. Speaking of such...this has surprised me. Nowwhere in the past 8 weeks have we seen a Buckeye Sweatshirt on any tourist across Europe. OSU is always talking about it being the largest Alumni group of any college. I am one. But haven't seen anyone. Haven't been looking carefully though and, the main couple reasons probably are, it is not tourist season. Few American tourists. And, it they were wearing Buckeye T-Shirts anywhere where we were...they also had to wear a coat because of the cold and damp. But, you might tell Archie that they are missing a good bet here in Europe. You see Mickey Mouse, McDonalds and countless other logos. The NY Yankee "NY" logo is everywhere. I saw a Muslim man walking into a great mosque in Istanbul wearing the "NY" hat. (He took it off, by the way) The Buckeye Alumni should get to Europe. Sell those shirts and hats. But, I digress...

It is the Sacre-Coeur. The Sacred Heart Basilica.

It was built in the mid 1800's to memorialize the 58,000 French soldiers who died in the Franco-Prussian War. It was built on the highest point in the city and on this day, there were as many here to enjoy the view as to see the basilica. Both were stunning.

Anyone who has seen a few cathedrals in Europe, or even if you have seen big  old, downtown churches in the States....what is usually lacking? Land. Landscaping. Sweeping vistas. Here is a church built intentionally with land and then landscaping. The climb is so steep and long that a funicular is built right along side the graceful stairs and like a ski-lift, one can be swept to the top. We walked.

It is like a park, just walking up the curving, beautiful steps. In a few weeks, Spring will be in bloom, yet even now, there is beauty. Once you actually reached the top and approached the steps into the church, so many people we just sitting and looking out over all of Paris, that you had to thread your way in the front door.

Alas, no pictures were allowed inside. The crowd was oddly, rather silent. The number of candles sold and lit exceeded the total number of candles we had seen lit in the previous 47 cathedrals we had visited. Maybe a bit of an exageration but the Paris Fire Dept. built a station next door just to keep the place safe. (Maybe another exageration.)

A Byzantine mosaic of Christ in the vault of the chancel was magnificent. The various chapels were beautiful too. The crowd swirled around the sanctuary and back outside where the real show was....Parisian life. African guys selling tourist trinkets. Kids having tourists sign something and indicating that they were deaf, and yet when they gathered together, they talked and no one used sign language. It was some sort of scam. People sitting and eating their lunch. A man playing classical music on an electrified harp. Street artists. A jazz band down by the funicular entrance. We sat on a park bench and ate also.

Our neighborhood walk took us down the hill and over to another church a couple hours later. We had to walk past several beggars on the way in and the church's beautiful altar had a Video screen blocking everything else. Hmmmmm.

Across the street was a very expensive Chocolatier shop and Makaila wanted to look and taste. We bought 5.60 Euros-worth of chocolate and I got out a 20 and the owner (in this very expensive shop) rolled her eyes and howled that she could not break a 20! I thought she was going to call in the Mayor, like I had insulted her and the French people by asking her to break a 20 for a 5.60 purchase. Her chocolates were selling for about 30 Euros a kilo. It wasn't like this was penney candy at a Mom and Pop store down the street. OK, I had some coins and paid her. Once again, I ask...."what is it with Europeans and 20 Euro notes?" They act like you are asking them to exchange gold bullion.

Interesting neighborhood. We wandered. Found the Moulin Rouge just up the street from our hotel. Left the Moulin Rouge area.

That evening we wanted to eat in our neighborhood and we chose a simple French restaurant a couple blocks away. Great food. Nice place. Owned by a Pakistani. The night before we ate Indian food. The night before that, Japanese food. I don't recall any British in London when I was there a few years ago. Are there any French in Paris? It's a one-world culture out there in the international cities. They retain the look and feel of their home countries but the mix of people is astounding, but they all seem to have one thing in common.

They won't take a 20 Euro note without a fight.

Peace,  Bob

Church of the Madeleine

There is a large sign over the street about a sidewalk sale and "flea market" for this Saturday morning.
The streets are roped off and gates & fences have been set up.
A small children's carousel has been brought in and set up in the plaza of our neighborhood.
Convinced that this was going to be a rather grand affair in our part of Paris, I asked the desk clerk at our hotel about all the excitement. And he answered in typical Parisian fashion....
"I have no idea. I haven't noticed anything."

Yesterday we made a decision to walk once again, rather than take the Metro to some major sights along the Champs Elysee. So we walked and looked around.

Along the way we came across a huge building with massive columns around all four sides. Turns out is was a church and instead of it being along the street, this church, Church of the Madeleine....St. Mary Magdalene....was in the center of a plaza. Actually it took up the entire plaza, so there were autos on all four sides of it. Rather like it being in the middle of a Round a bout...the daily traffic whizzed by. Along the streets of the plaza were gourmet shops and a sort of farmers market was wedged in along the side.

Ah, but the church, the church. It looked more like something out of Rome, not like a Gothic Cathedral. The front door was open, we dodged traffic and went up the steps and inside.

Like a scene from Phantom of the Opera, the organ was playing. It seemed to me that the organist was trying out various pipes to see if they were still active. So one would hear a few bars, then a few more, then silence. Then it started over again. No discernable melody, but the massive size of the sanctuary made the sound quite impressive and for the dozen of us to tourists inside, no one seemed to mind. It was like a personal organ recital for us. We went in and sat.

European Cathedrals and churches are not known for their simplicity and timid nature. They were built to honor the Most High God and sing the praises of that God....oh and sometimes to be an in-your-face church building to the neighboring  town or nearby parish. Sometimes I really think it was the latter reason rather than the former for which the church aspired.

We do the same with football stadiums or city parks and the like. We build to delight our citizens and be the envy of our sister cities. The Church of the Madelene had a very complex journey to finally getting built and blessed.

No less than King Louis the XVth in person laid the cornerstone in 1763 and after that, the church wandered numerous pathways to its completion. Like everything else in France, the Revolution in the late 1700's slowed building works. Then work on the church stopped. Then Napoleon stepped in an decreed that the church (which was only partially completed) would become a Temple to the French Armies in all their might. Then Napoleon's armies were defeated in battle in 1812 and Napoleon said, "Never mind!"... and the Temple to French Armies thing was shelved. It was decided to keep it a church dedicated to God.

There were thoughts of maybe making it a chapel to King Louis and Marie Antoinette who had recently been beheaded in the Revolution, but that was sidetracked and work on the church stopped again. But then it started in earnest once again and was dedicated to God in 1843. As European churches go...80 years to build a church is pretty fast and if one figures in the momentous events in France at the time, 80 years would probably net the builders a bonus for completing on time or ahead of time. Two hundred years or more is not unusual for massive cathedrals to take for completion.

Like all churches, there were a number of side chapels, statues and eye catching artworks to keep the eyes and senses engaged, but the various dedications intrigues me.

Along the side was a wall plate with a name and in memory of a priest shot in the Paris Commune after the Revolution. Then after that the Archbishop was shot dead. Above the altar in the mosaic relief were the pictures of Christ and great men (men only....but the church is named after Mary Magdelene, remember) and one of them is St. Denis who had his head chopped off. (Go to Notre Dame and his statue is outside with him holding his head. French do not go for subtlety in their depictions. Fish on your dinner plate keep their heads...statues of martyrs lose theirs. And that is not even mentioning the dozens of statues in front of Notre Dame which were beheaded by the mobs in the Revolution and then the heads hidden and dug up a few years back...but I digress)

The Church of Madeleine had a statue of Joan of Arc. Her fate is well known. One of the artists inserted Napoleon himself in the pantheon of the painting above the mosaics above the statue of Mary Magdalene above the altar. Got all that? Christ and Napoleon in the same massive painting. I love this city. That alone was worth the time to stop in.

And if that is not enough, when Chopin died, his funeral mass was in this church.

European Cathedrals and churches were right in the midst of the chain of events of their countries. If times were good, the building went relatively smoothly, if not slowly. When the country was in upheaval, so was the construction process. Maybe and Emporer or two here and there made suggestions as to the course of the construction but if the populace waited it out, the ruler was deposed and they could follow their own course to God and not that of the ruler.

It was also carefully noted that the priests of those days were as liable to meet a violent death as that of any ruler and indeed, priests back them were power players in the events of nations. Some ministers and priests still think that way; that we are power players on the world stage. But most of us don't kid ourselves. Our God will outlast the earthly rulers, we will not.

We are a bit more modest these days. The Church of Madeleine had Louis the 15th and Napoleon and the French Revolution to contend with, back home in Dublin, Ohio we have myself and Lisa and maybe a maybe a congratulatory nod from the Mayor of Dublin occasionally and regular worship and things like Youth Group Pizza parties, a food pantry and parking problems.

Gives one perspective.

Peace,  Bob

At the Center of it All

Where do you start when there is all of Paris to see?

We went to the epicenter of the city and worked our way outward. In one of the guidebooks there was an "Historic Paris Walk" and that seemed as good as anything and that meant we began at Notre Dame Cathedral.

Our neighborhood is north of that area of Paris but it is literally all down hill and it gave us the opportunity to explore the basic neighborhood and see who lives around us and what shops there are. The non-surprise is that the area is crowded. The small surprise is that this is a working neighborhood. A locksmith is just down the street and small fruit groceries are on several corners. Those businesss don't cater to the tourist trade but rather the locals.

No, I don't see us going out and mingling with the working French, but there are not a lot of tour buses in the neighborhood. I recall a man in Lisbon bemoaning that his city was being bought up by outside interests and turning neighborhoods into boutique hotels and increasing property values so the average Lisboan could not live there. I imagine Paris has long since been that way, and folks like me are part of the problem, so I will try to blend in (good advice in so many things.)

Notre Dame. Imposing. Gothic. History laden. Cold...outside...actually the wind down along the Seine was bustery reminding us that it is but mid March. Still, lots of folks were mingling and having their photos taken in front and yours truly did the same.

Entry is free, as this IS a living church and when we walked in the front door (along with half the populace of Western Europe) the priest was celebrating Mass. We had walked a long way. It was cold and we were interested in seeing and hearing the French words of the Eucharist and having a quiet place to sit. (And....Notre Dame, as opposed to nearly every other huge cathedral around the Mediterranean, was actually warm. I didn't detect central heating but it was not drafty, so I tip my hat to the Chair of the Building and Grounds Committee.)

Immediately inside the front door (which is actually the secondary front door....the huge front door is locked) was a booth with Information People selling guides and audio guides and I looked to their right and there were what I at first thought were lotto machines. I suppose it is my own prejudice that I did not seem surprised, but upon further inspection the machines sold Notre Dame booklets for two Euros....I bought one and sat down and read up on this historic place.

It's a good little booklet but on page two it says this...

"As soon as visitors enter the cathedral, their attention is drawn to the flames of the lights that burn unceasingly in front of the great bronze cucifix."

I didn't notice any "flames of lights burning unceasingly on a great bronze crucifix." As soon as I walked in, I noticed and information booth and then I noticed what I thought was a lotto tickets machine. It was clear that I needed to find that crucifix which the devout notice and I failed to notice. But for the moment we sat and took it all in.

The atmosphere was wonderful but what most impressed me was that during the mass, a woman was liturgist. The male priest led the service but parts were read by a woman. I haven't seen that elsewhere. It may be common elsewhere, but here in Paris, a woman is liturgist. The French just went up a few notches in my estimation of them and their worship.

The faithful sat in a roped-off area in front. They were actually worshipping. A few hundred others were walking around the cathedral, quiet and respectful, but walking nonetheless. They were allowed to do so and I suppose that is symbolic of how worship must be a part of everyday life and be interrupted by everyday life and yet stand apart from everyday life. Ministers like me can make a theological equation out of anything and I imagine Makaila was rolling her eyes, but I rather liked the faithful woshipping/tourists gawking thing. God is in the midst of all we do, life is short, worship while you can.

Notre Dame is not nearly as ornate as most cathedrals we have seen. I am sure it has something to do with the whole French Revolution and how Catholics in France go about their worshipping. Many of the chapels looked more like storage space. Frankly I was surprised.

The huge circular windows are a gem, but for me, the most interesting....the wooden, carved scenes of Christ. It begins with Mary and the mother of John the Baptist and continues on. Here is a scene from the killing of the two year olds after the birth of Christ and the fleeing of the Holy Family into Egypt.

Don't read anything into why I chose that particular part of the massive carving and I certainly will not make light of it because it is quite Biblical and quite disturbing....but frankly, the lighting was best on that part of the long carving. I could not use a flash and so I used their light. (And that in itself may be another metaphor for life.)

We walked around. Most impressive. The wooden carvings depicted the life of Christ and then His teachings. My absolute favorite in the cathedral.

But I had to find that "great bronze crucifix" which everyone, but apparently me, notices upon entering the cathedral. And there it was, neatly tucked in behind the audio-guide rental booth, just like in days of yore.

Just being there amidst the people and the history was fun. We noticed that you could tour the top of the cathedral by entering on the side. A long line was there. The line indicated another hour wait. The wind was about 50 mph along the outside of the cathedral and my journey to the South of Spain had thinned my blood and I was in no mood to stand and wait to see the home of Quasimodo.

Out to the back of the cathedral to eat our sandwiches and plan the rest of the day.

Oh, and I bought three Notre Dame Cathedral gargoyles for my office door.

Peace,  Bob