What I forgot to mention is that, at the end of the last day, after walking for something like 13km, my feet were complaining and unfortunately the usual blisters made their appearance, far too earlier than anticipated. Thus, on the second day, I headed off to the nearest pharmacy (in a quasi limping state!) and the Frenchman suggested buying some silicone foot pads, which probably turned out to be the best €32 spent in Paris - I could walk for another 4 days with no complaining and/or pain whatsoever!
After a quick breakfast, we started off the day in the Montmartre area, by blissfully walking up to the Sacre Coeur church, a route which I anticipated would be filled with artists but, alas, featured none. After a brief stop inside the church, we took the brave decision to walk up to the dome's summit, 200+ steps up. Probably the effort was not sufficient to burn off a bite from the earlier croissant, but it was worth it; the view was unbelievable (the plan was to see a panoramic view by day from Sacre Coeur and the night time equivalent from the Eiffel Tower, on another day). Down from the summit, we headed off to the 'red light' district surrounding the Moulin Rouge and the colourful outlets thereabout. Not as entertaining as Soho, but perhaps only because it was still morning...
From the north, we took a metro down to the centre of Paris, starting off with Arc de Triomphe and the Avenue des Champs Elysees. Yet another magnificent example of axiality, with this particular one stretching all the way from La Defense down Champs, Place de la Concorde and finally ending in the Louvre. Contrary to the first day, when we used the metro infrequently, now that the Parisian underground was being more handy, I realised that the trains were all quite old, with old-school hand-operated latches to open the doors, the stations have virtually no escalators anywhere and connections are somewhat more complex than London's. What amazed me most was the omnipresent smell of urine, both in the streets and stations and at times even on the trains. It was a relief not to consistently hear "Mind the gap" (or the French equivalent thereof) but the French have no love for health and safety at all: doors are openable when the train is still moving, the platforms do not have some bright colour to mark their edges and no usual security announcements were made. Quite different from the safety-obsessed Brits!
Back on the street: having walked down Champs Elysees, it was time to feed. We headed off to a bakery mentioned in my Lonely Planet book (Polaine) and got ourselves a modest looking but surprisingly heavy (and equally tasty) loaf which we loaded with chorizo and cheese. A taste of heaven. After lunch, we resumed our trail: Place de la Concorde, the Magdalene church, Place Vendome and the Opera, home of the famous Phantom.
From one Baroque masterpiece to another, we headed off to the jewel in the crown of Hi-Tech architecture: the Pompidou Centre. The revolutionary building by Rogers and Piano had long fascinated me and to see it for the first time was one of those moments when I feel so small, so tiny, so overwhelmed. Instances which I experienced when I saw the Lloyd's Building in London, the Corbusier villa in Stuttgart, the Sagrada Familia in Barcelona, the temples of Malta.
I did not understand why the fountain in the adjacent Place Igor Stravinsky, with its colourful sculptures which are so harmonious with the coloured pipework of the Pompidou, was devoid of water and not functioning as a fountain at all. This was the second fountain which was turned off. After lingering in the Pompidou plaza in the company of a fresh milk shake, we walked southwards past the Hotel de Ville across the Seine and onto the Ile de la Cite, where another magical moment awaited...
The Cathedral of Notre Dame is one of the first buildings I learned about, so many years ago. Stepping past its threshold was like experiencing a time machine: there was the evening Mass going on and at the point of entry we were greeted by a surge on the church organ, which, combined with the smell of incense, the setting sun's light filtered through the rose window and the chants in an unknown language (it was French but equally incomprehensible as Latin, as far as I am concerned) made me feel like I was shifted back to medieval times. Simply, amazing.
However, as we headed to the rear of the cathedral to admire the daring flying buttresses supporting the apse, best viewed from the so-called Jardin Notre Dame, what we found was another expanse of dusty ground (albeit surrounded by trees). I still could not understand why most (if not all) of the best sights of Paris have to be experienced in a dirty, dusty setting. I am tempted to work out a cost estimate of paving works for these areas!
A short walk led us to the other island, the Ile St. Louis, whose embankments provided a resting place. It was nice to see a river whose colour is unlike that of the Thames: resembling that of water rather than raw sewage. From the little Parisian island, we headed to the hotel for an hour's rest and a well-needed change of clothes (from all the dust!) and then got the metro back to the Pompidou Centre; this was going to be open to the public just for this evening!
The queue was surprisingly short and soon we found ourselves on the external red-bottomed escalators as we made our way up the facade onto the top floor, from where we got a view of night-time Paris. Not exactly the Ville Lumiere I thought I would be seeing, but we got a glimpse of the shimmering Eiffel Tower. It was nonetheless a great experience to walk inside the Pompidou Centre and its structure and service free 100% usable floor space, thanks to the visionary and radical design of 2 of the 20th (and 21st!) century architectural giants.
From the square we walked again to Notre Dame, simply to admire the enchanting exterior at night time and then the last metro journey back to the hotel. It was an early night and, one bottle of red wine later, we were happily snoozing away and that was the end of our second day.
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