SANCTUARY!

A train journey and a couple of metro stops later, we were emerging from the undergound somewhere on the Left Bank, where we knew we would be roughly in the vicinity of Catedral de Notre Dame. Of course, the towers of the Cathedral weren't difficult to spot, and after a quick look around to get our bearings we were marching along the Seine towards them. We crossed the river at Pont au Double and continued along its cobbled bank. Stone steps took us back to street level and with the Cathedral coming into view in front of us we continued on (past cafe's where people sat, below red awnings, eating crepes smothered in every delicious topping you could imagine) until we reached the square where we could see for ourselves the famous west facing facade of the Cathedral of Notre Dame.



It wasn't the only Cathedral we had visited on the trip, but it certainly stood apart from the others. It's double towers on the west facing side are so grand; from the outside they create the illusion that the Cathedral must dwarf any other, and yet from the inside it feels almost claustrophobic compared with Salisbury. From where we stood, we enjoyed the exterior view of the western rose window, the grand doors of the original entrance, and the narrow columns that form the outlines of the facades westwork. Our time queueing to go inside was spent enjoying the view and huddling close to the people who'd thought to bring umbrellas, since dark clouds had rolled in bringing dreaded drizzle with them.


North Facing Rose Window

Inside, and the first thing we noticed was how dark it was. The stone walls are lined with narrow stained glass windows, and yet it seemed as though light simply couldn't penetrate them. All was gloomy and sombre; the only light seemed to be from flickering candles. The ceiling is low compared with Salisbury and the whole place seems much more enclosed somehow. The Cathedral is considered to be a Gothic masterpiece, and it certainly isn't subtle. I was struck by one statue in particular- it depicted an open coffin with a skeleton half hanging out of it, while the faceless hooded figure of death stood behind it holding that infamous scythe. The whole thing was life size in dimensions and stood in an area of the Cathedral reserved for prayer; I can't imagine kneeling at the foot of that thing to pray.

We made our way slowly through the place taking in all of the dark stone, the beautiful organ, and each rose window, but when it came to it we didn't climb the Towers to see the bells. I think Mum and I were both ready for some sunlight again at that point. (Thankfully the rain had subsided by the time we headed back outside and we got our wish.) And the memory of those crepes was not far from our minds either so we decided to treat ourselves.




We didn't have to go far; The street on the North side of the Cathedral is lined with little cafes that all seem to be serving the same thing. We sat outside at a table that afforded us a view of the Notre Dame's flying buttresses, and noted the Gargoyles sticking their tongues out at us as we waited for our crepes with warm nutella to arrive. Charlotte was just starting to try her hand at eating solid foods. Looking back on it I probably shouldn't have given her a taste, since nutella is bound to contain 'traces' of nuts, but that didn't occur to us at the time and, either way, she was a fan.




Feeling fancy and oh so Parisian after our crepes, we went for a walk along the Seine. I wanted to see Pont Neuf, which is the oldest bridge in Paris, standing unchanged since 1578. We took a seat by the side of the river, legs dangling over the side of the bank. It was so nice to just sit and enjoy the view. The riverside homes of the rich with their dark, tall roofs. The tree lined river bank paved with cobble stones. Whatever direction we looked in seemed like a Post Card.





It turned out that sitting down wasn't the brightest idea. It made us acutely aware of how much our feet were hurting from standing on them all day long. We'd seen the highlights for the day that we were hoping to, and so we decided that a boat tour on the Seine would be a fun way to round off the day, and the perfect way to give our poor feet a break.




Within minutes of sitting down on the boat, Charlotte fell fast asleep. She slept as we saw the Eiffel Tower from a different vantage point, and as we sailed past the Louvre, which seemed to stretch on forever. She missed out on seeing Palaces, and statues and beautiful bridge after beautiful bridge. For Mum and I, it was a nice effortless way of seeing the city. We were able to catch some of the Landmarks that we wouldn't have otherwise seen. It was all very nice indeed until Charlotte work up with a jolt.



(By-the-by, behind us with the blue flags is Paris Plages, a pretend beach on the river bank. As you do!)

Moments after this picture was taken Charlotte woke up, screaming and inconsolable as she cut her very first tooth. The other passengers weren't so thrilled about it-apparently Austrians glare when baby's cry. But, not many baby's get to cut teeth whilst sailing along the Seine and it definitely made the evening more memorable, glares and all.