Fun Memories of Paris

My husband’s memories of Paris were quite different from mine as if we were on different trips. We agreed that it was a cold and damp December that year. We visited during Christmas and New Year because we wanted to listen to the service at Notre Dame; we even climbed to the catwalk to see the gargoyles up close and the river Seine.

It was very damp, expensive, the French were very rude to Americans, and it smelled like urine everywhere.  And we had to watch for dog poo before we stepped in the streets in the endless drizzly rain.

Aside for the enthusiasm for our visit to Napoleon’s mausoleum and tombs of other generals, and the very interesting military museum, our memories partied ways.

I was enthralled by all the culture, the art, and the city’s history. It saddened me to see so much opulent beauty surrounding us, knowing how many people had suffered and paid for all this beauty with their forced labor and ultimately with their lives.

We stayed in a hotel in Montmartre, and I can honestly say that I’ve never been so cold in a hotel before. We trekked daily through the rainy streets to the metro where the loudspeakers, without fail, would make the same announcement on the train, in different languages, that, ladies and gentlemen, “robbers were on the train.”

We walked by the cemetery daily and sometimes past the metro station to Sacre Coeur where couples were loitering on the steps smoking and throwing their cigarette butts and trash on the ground. What a sacrilege! 

David liked the sunny side up egg on the pizza served in a restaurant at Versailles and the fresh and delicious pastries and croissants baked by men with hairy arms. He still remembers the fresh baguettes at the train station cafe in Paris buzzed by flies inside. You would think that they would go dormant in December! 

The well-manicured gardens and parks would have been lovely except for the fact that they were all dormant and the trees were brown. A few lovely potted flowers decorated Notre Dame.

Bathrooms were hard to come by which may explain the offensive smell of urine permeating everywhere but especially in the metro corridors and tunnels. It costs money everywhere to use the restrooms, even in cafes, one euro on the average, and in the round restrooms in the middle of the street that stunk to high Heaven.  They reminded me of Dr. Who’s time travel phone booth. 

A fun and delicious Greek restaurant in the vicinity of Notre Dame encouraged patrons to break plates on men’s heads. At his request, I hit my hubby with a plate but on the wrong side. It did not break and luckily, we are still married. He claims that I caused the dent visible on his bald head. Just kidding about the dent part. 

We went on the same trip to Paris but I vividly, not vaguely, remember many details and the beauty surrounding us inside museums and outside majestic buildings. Hubby remembered expensive restaurants and street food and the fact that we almost got mugged by the Eiffel Tower by a gypsy kid. 

I also enjoyed pretending that I did not speak any French because I wanted to hear how rudely the French spoke of the two of us before I responded to the pretentious and arrogant waiters.

 

A Train Ride to Remember

Frecciarossa, high speed train
Photo: Wikipedia
(no, our train was not this elegant and fast)

Several years ago we were on an overnight train in the south of France bound for Paris, a twelve-hour trip in a reclining car. The couchettes were all taken by a very large Canadian tourist group so the thirty-six of us had to make do with reclining chairs.

I was leading an American group of students and two parents who had little understanding of the dangers of traveling in Europe at night. They did not seem to be frightened by the presence of gypsies on the train who were harassing passengers by begging and threatening them with a very large dog the size of a large calf.

There was no police present and those few in uniforms who were supposed to check the passengers' tickets were hiding somewhere in a couchette so they wouldn't have to deal with the threatening gypsies and the frightened passengers who were accosted.

One fearless parent, a nurse, went for a smoke in the designated areas between cars, holding a glass of red wine. One of the gypsies (rroma as they like to be called, progressivism PC has infected Europe just as bad as the U.S.) must have put something in her glass when she did not pay attention (gypsies are famous for slight of hand and pickpocketing) and fell to the floor unconscious. It must have been a powerful narcotic - she slept for the entire 12-hour trip, did not wake until we arrived in Paris. We were afraid for her, so we made sure she laid back properly with un unobstructed airway.

Everyone was relieved when a group of mercenaries (French legionnaires) climbed into our car at the one and only stop before Paris, Le Havre.

The whispers heard were, "Thank God they are here, we are safe now from the gypsies." I was the only one still afraid, as I knew who the mercenaries were, so I moved my daughter in the window seat, away from the aisle.

I sparked a conversation with the two fierce-looking men seated across the isle who happened to be from the Ukraine. I knew Ukraine's history with fascism so their presence was uncomfortable to me to say the least.

I stayed up all night, making sure my daughter and the rest of the group were safe. We talked a bit in Russian, a bit in English, and found out that they were going on leave for a few days in Paris. The ever curious economist, I asked one of them how much the French Legion paid them. Europeans are quite candid about money and do not mind asking each other how much they make. These killers for hire were making about 20,000 euros a year.

Needless to say, the gypsies miraculously stopped coming through our car but I did not relax all night. When we got to Paris by 7 a.m., the two legionnaires I had befriended actually carried our luggage off the train like proper gentlemen and helped us to disembark. We thanked them graciously that they protected us from the gypsies.

Since then, it's been ten years ago, I've been uncomfortable taking trains in Europe. They can be quite comfortable but, you never know who can get on and off.

Notre Dame, A Symbol of our Collective Western Civilization

My husband and I visited Paris for ten days around Christmas and New Year seventeen years ago. It was blustery and drizzling the whole time and we eventually got used to the bone-chilling cold. It did not stop our adventurous streak at all and we took the metro everywhere.

I had visited Paris twice before but only for a couple of days each time with my youngest daughter - the Louvre, the Eiffel Tower, the Notre Dame cathedral, and Versailles.

With my daughter, March 2001

Photo: Ileana Johnson, Christmas 2002

Notre Dame spire

This time we had more time and we went inside Notre Dame and lit up a candle for my dad. We prayed and walked around in amazement at the beautiful stained glass windows. The paintings, the floor mosaics, and the solid columns gave us a feeling of eternity as if this church has been there forever, almost nine centuries of civilization.

Photo: Ileana, Xmas 2002

We tried to imagine how many millions have stepped on those floors before us in the last nine centuries and how many prayers have been lifted to Heaven and to God.

How many sacrifices poor and rich Christians alike have made to contribute financially through tithes and donations to the construction of so much beauty that generations have admired and enjoyed in silent prayer and people from around the world have visited?

There was a meager nativity scene to one side and I remember commenting that it was rather simple compared to the awe-inspiring beauty sorrounding us. But then there was not much indication around the secular Paris that Christmas was an important holiday to the Parisians. They had partied heavily on New Year's, trashing the famous steps of the Basilica in Montmartre.

Nanook of the North admiring a gorgyle

Photo: My husband David, Christmas 2002

We then stayed in line in blistering rainy winter wind for almost an hour in order to climb to the top to see the famous Notre Dame gargoyles up close and to admire a breathtaking view of Paris.

I was dressed like Nanook of the North and the frigid cold still reached to my bones but it was worth every icycle hanging from my frozen face - I felt the winds of history touching my being.

I never believed that in my lifetime this 860 year-old jewel of Christian art and prayer, a symbol of our collective western civilization will be partially turned to ashes, a victim of “accidental” fire.

Climate Change Has Been Tamed

The COP21 was a seminal moment in the history of the planet. The wizards of the Paris conference, reportedly 147 heads of states, their very large entourage, and thousands of delegates and journalists from 195 countries will be remembered as the slickest con-artists ever in the history of humanity.

Paris, the City of Lights, of culture, of learning, of civilization, is a perfect place for such a gathering. Decadent, rich, storied, and romantic, it provides the perfect destination for bureaucrats who avoid poor places like the plague. The elitist choice is always the most luxurious and expensive locales where they can travel, live, eat, drink, and party in style at the expense of the hapless worshippers of Gaia who foot the bill.

These tin pot bureaucrats and their developed world brethren have finally succeeded, through the audacity of persistence, power, pressure, and blatant lies, to fleece seven billion people who willingly gave up their lifestyles and their fortunes in order to save the planet from an impending doom and gloom presumably caused by man alone.

We are so lucky!  We are getting a new life and the assurance from the gods of climate that we will live in balmy weather and glorious climate across the globe, with plenty of water and no harsh weather, only sunshine and blue skies, anytime, anyplace, on a blessed and abundant earth, protecting its most precious inhabitants: wild animals and the elites.

We can now rest assured and with confidence that blizzards and heat waves, tsunamis, tornadoes, hurricanes, droughts, mudslides, and other weather and climate related events are a thing of the past.

The whizzes of the Paris COP21 conference have tamed the climate and we no longer have to fear anything.  The science is settled – all discussions or debates will cease. Deniers will be marginalized, ridiculed, silenced, fired, or jailed if too persistent and annoying.

The seas will no longer rise and flood some obscure pacific island or some city built unwisely below sea level; the oceans will no longer acidify and kill marine life; the fish stocks in rivers will self-replenish, the delta smelt will thrive again once the agricultural industry will be completely destroyed; the globe’s temperatures will no longer rise by 2 degrees because now, we are going to pay through our noses more taxes to the climate lords and their lucrative climate change industry dominated by renewables.

Climate science elites will make sure that our paper money will stop pollution, volcanic activity around the globe and at the bottom of the oceans. The oceanic currents will flow the right way. El Nino will sit with them at the discussion table and will tame and subdue its activity. The sun will cooperate and stop flaring whenever it wants. Everything will now be under the sly control of the bureaucrats at the United Nations who, ever so wise, have no idea how many countries have actually signed this existential and unenforceable proposal. Or is it a gentlemen’s agreement, paraded as a treaty?

The third world nations are already salivating at the prospect of dividing 100 billion each year with more to come in the future. The planet must be 100 percent renewable green in a short time.

We will all be singing kumbaya in our dark and dank caves once all the dams are blown up, the rivers restored to their pristine state, the salmon and other migratory animals and birds will be safe from encroaching development, and the polluting coal power plants will be closed.

Wild animals and birds will have nothing to fear as long as birds avoid flying into the chopping blades of the wind turbines or into the solar panels’ vaporizing heat flux. Animals may have to move away from the constant and maddening thump-thump noise of wind turbines and away from millions of acres of solar panels.

China and India will finally breathe fresh air again. Nuclear power plants will be a thing of the 1970s, replaced by renewable wind and solar power.  Coal mines will be closed, “dirty” coal will no longer provide energy, and cars and planes will rust in place while the elites will whiz by in their expensive solar automobiles and private planes. What a perfectly dystopic planet that will be! Who needs civilization when the animals of the planet will be safe?

Pope Francis and Climatism

National Geographic published a fascinating article on his Holiness, Pope Francis. Robert Draper and Dave Yoder, who gained unprecedented access to the pope, wrote about and photographed the pope extensively.

The Conclave chose the former Argentinian, Jorge Mario Bergoglio, and “vaulted him from relative obscurity into the papacy.  To many observers – some delighted, other discomfited – the new pope already had changed seemingly everything, seemingly overnight.”  http://ngm.nationalgeographic.com/2015/08/vatican/draper-text

One of the images of archbishop Bergoglio, an Argentinian born of Italian parents, was showing the archbishop kneeling on stage in front of “men of lesser status.” The picture was published by Cabildo, a conservative Catholic journal, with the caption “apostata.”

Self-described as a “callejero,” the Jesuit priest frequently visited the ghetto and rode the subway, a “wanderer” in search of lost souls. He was made bishop in 1992 and cardinal in 2001.

Massimo Franco, a Roman author, explained his meteoric rise. “His election arose from a trauma – from the sudden (and for nearly six centuries, unprecedented) resignation of the sitting pope, Benedict XVI, and from the mounting sentiment among more progressive cardinals that the hoary and Eurocentric mind-set of the Holy See was rotting the Catholic Church from within.”

The beautiful Catholic Churches in Europe are rather empty of parishioners on most days; they are fabulous museums where tourists admire the icons, the tombs of the famous statesmen and former popes, statues, and reliquaries with a sense of reverence, admiration, appreciation, and awe. Occasionally some tourists do pray.

Robert Draper reported that Pope Francis does not wear a bulletproof vest because, Francis told his friend, Norberto Saracco, “The Lord has put me here. He’ll have to look out for me.”

Highly independent, Pope Francis accompanied a friend to the elevator at the end of a visit so that, he joked, … I can be sure you don’t take anything with you.” Regarding his independent spirit, Robert Draper quoted the Vatican spokesman, “In a sense, this is positive, because in the past there were criticisms that someone had too much power over the pope. They cannot say this is the case now.”

Changes in the Vatican happen with any new pope. But Ramiro de la Serna, Franciscan priest from Buenos Aires said, “I believe we haven’t yet seen the real changes. And I also believe we haven’t seen the real resistance yet either.”

Uncomfortable with the Swiss Guards following him everywhere for his own safety, Draper writes that the pope has eventually “resigned to their near-constant presence.” Bemoaning the fact that he cannot walk the streets of Rome like he used to walk in the streets of Buenos Aires, he feels “penned in.”

Pope Francis admits that he never follows his impulses because “the first answer that comes to me is usually wrong,” he said.

People have criticized the pope for embracing an imam, Omar Abboud, after praying with him and the rabbi Skorka at the Western Wall.

Graciously, Pope Francis gives sage advice to engaged couples. “The perfect family doesn’t exist, nor is there a perfect husband or a perfect wife, and let’s not talk about the perfect mother-in-law! It’s just us sinners.” In response to a question about gay priests, Draper reported that the pope had said, “Who am I to judge?”

The pope seems to be shaking Vatican and revolutionize the world. Draper believes that “This would appear to be the pope’s mission: to ignite a revolution inside the Vatican and beyond its walls, without overturning a host of long-held precepts.” He quotes la Serna, the pope’s Argentinian friend, “He won’t change doctrine. What he will do is return the church to its true doctrine – the one it has forgotten, the one that puts man back in the center. By putting the suffering of man, and his relationship with God, back in the center, these harsh attitudes toward homosexuality, divorce, and other things will start to change.”

His climate change encyclical and the invitation to address the U.S. Congress in the fall are evidence that he is hugely successful. He has inserted himself into the global warming debacle now turned into a veritable industry of climate change, a wealth redistribution scheme to combat poverty around the globe, and an attempt to control every facet of our lives through environmentalism, led by the United Nations with its many organizations staffed by third world bureaucrats and developed world socialists/Marxists.

In late July 2015, sixty environmentally-friendly mayors from cities like Boston, Boulder, New York City, San Francisco, Oslo, Stockholm, New Orleans, Birmingham (Alabama), Vancouver, Libreville (Gabon), Siquirres (Costa Rica), and Kochi (India) met for a two-day conference in Vatican City to pledge to the pope to reduce global warming and to help the urban poor deal with the onslaught of global warming which seems to affect them disproportionately while the rest of “the working class” are experiencing cooler temperatures due to seasonal changes.

These mayors belong to the Carbon Neutral Cities Alliance and have committed themselves to reducing CO2 emissions by “at least 80 percent by 2050.” Gov. Jerry Brown of California is the leader, having “enacted the toughest greenhouse gas emission standards in North America.”

At the conclusion of the two-day conference, mayors were also asked to sign a declaration against slavery and human trafficking.

Mayor Gregor Robertson of Vancouver signed the declaration  that states “human-induced climate change is a scientific reality and its effective control is a moral imperative for humanity.” So the “climatism” rhetoric has changed now from “consensus science is settled” to “human imperative.”

Mayor William Bell of Birmingham, Alabama, discussed segregation as he experienced it, a “close-cousin to slavery,” he said. He was elated to follow the pope’s call to end all forms of modern-day slavery.

Oslo’s mayor Stian Berger Rosland was cheered by his colleagues when he announced that he was “the first Catholic mayor of Oslo since the Reformation.”

Monica Fein of Argentina’s Mercociudades (Network of cities in Latin America) stated her goal, “We want sustainable development, without excluding the extremely poor” and “We fundamentally want to leave our children and future generations with a planet that isn’t contaminated.”

Madrid’s leftist mayor, Manuela Carmena, stated that sexual slavery occurs in the world because “society has not been educated enough about sexuality” and prostitution exists. The mayors heard the testimony of two Mexican women who were victims of modern-day slavery.

San Francisco mayor, Edwin Lee, pledged to “completely phase out the use of petroleum diesel” in its city’s vehicle fleet and replace them with renewable diesel by the end of 2015.

The New Orleans mayor, Mitch Landrieu, warned about environmental degradation, citing the case of New Orleans and its Hurricane Katrina disaster in 2005, including the 2010 BP oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico. His city supplies one-quarter of all the seafood produced in the U.S. and more oil and gas to the U.S. than Saudi Arabia. “But that economic benefit comes at a cost,” he said.

Mayor Chammany of Kochi talked about the Indian caste system, “one of the worst forms of slavery known to man.”

Mayor of Stockholm stated that the 2015 Paris conference must “exclude fossil fuels as an option and just focus on long-term sustainable energy sources.” Mayor Karin Wanngaard proudly announced that 75 percent of her city’s public transportation runs on renewable energy. Her goal is to make Stockholm fossil-fuel free by 2040.

The mayor of New York City, Bill de Blasio, promised to reduce New York City’s emissions 40 percent by 2030.

Jerry Brown, the governor of California had very harsh words for climate skeptics – they are “seeking to falsify the scientific record” in the process of trying to “bamboozle” the public with their propaganda, putting “troglodytes” in office rather than environmentally-responsible leaders. These bamboozlers try to convince scientists, politicians, and the public that global warming is a fraud. The climate change skeptics are “deniers of the obvious science.” I am not sure what the definition of “obvious science” is, it must be a close cousin to consensus science, certainly not based on fact. http://cruxnow.com/life/2015/07/21/updates-on-the-mayors-conference-at-the-vatican/

Robertson said that “Vancouver is among a group of cities focused on eliminating fossil fuels and shifting towards 100 percent renewable energy.” That will be interesting to watch. http://vancouverobserver.com/news/vancouver-mayor-energized-vatican-climate-conference

The Vatican tried to connect climate change with human trafficking by claiming that global warming is responsible for creating “environmental refugees” who flee their homes because of drought or other climate-caused natural disasters. This begs the question, was climate change responsible for slavery in Egypt, in the Roman Empire, the Ottoman Empire, the Middle East, Africa, or modern slaves in Islamic cultures?

The Paris climate negotiations in December (Who would have thought that humans could modify climate and negotiate it?) will have a final declaration that states, among other things, that “human-induced climate change is a scientific reality and its effective control is a moral imperative for humanity.”

The document demands not just transition to low-carbon and renewable energy, but making “urgent investments” in sustainable development, rich countries footing the investment bill for the poor countries and divesting away from the military. Who needs an army, a navy, or an air force when the world is so peaceful and non-threatening?

As my good friend Chriss R. pointed out, this was an extraordinary event for Marxist politicians from around the globe to meet at the Vatican with the pope to discuss something that has nothing to do with religion or the salvation of souls. Furthermore, who paid for the very expensive trip of each mayor who flew to Rome on 60 different jets spewing carbon into the atmosphere?

If it was the taxpayers, how does that sit with atheists and spiritualists for their politicians to chat up a religious leader? Don’t they usually reject the church and vociferously demand separation of church and state? If it was the Catholic Church that paid for the trip of all these socialists, why did the church not use the money to help the starving poor instead?

Pope Francis is quoted by National Geographic as having said, “It’s very entertaining to be Pope.” Is it helpful to use a powerful moral authority to influence something that is not real, has no basis in real science or fact, and it will definitely cause more poverty around the globe?

The deep de-carbonization meeting in Paris, The 2015 United Nations Climate Change Conference (COP21) is likely to draw at least 10,000 government and UN representatives, all arriving on carbon-spewing jets. But the rules of the new climatism science are just for ordinary people, not for those who control the world. http://cop21.gouv.fr/en

Deep decarbonizing is a must for the masses. As Dr. Klaus Kaiser stated, “How else can you reduce the world population from 7 to 8 billion to fewer than one billion which Professor HJ Schellnhuber opines as necessary? He is the director of the Potsdam Institut fuer Klimafolgenforschung,” a German government-sponsored entity for “climate impact research.” The Pontiff named “Schellnhuber to the 400-year old institution of the Pontifical Academy of Sciences (PAS).” Schellnhuber is the co-author of the encyclical on climate change, Laudato Si. http://canadafreepress.com/article/74512

 

Paris, a Symbol of Our Western Civilization

Southern façade of Notre Dame
Photo: Wikipedia

On my third trip to Paris, it was ten days of drizzly and bone-chilling December. We stayed in a cozy but insufficiently heated hotel, just narrow and winding streets away from the magnificent Basilica of Sacré-Cœur in Montmartre. The stark white dome of Sacré-Cœur situated on top of the hill was visible on a sunny day from most points in Paris. Winding down the cozy village-like streets from the Basilica was Place Pigalle. When we walked down the Basilica’s steps on New Year’s Day, remnants of the fireworks and parties were scattered everywhere.

On our daily treks to the Metro, we passed by Cimetière de Montmartre with its lugubrious atmosphere. Located in the 18^th arrondissement of Paris in “the Butte,” the nickname Parisians gave to the Montmartre hill, it is the third largest necropolis in Paris which opened in 1825. Located below street level in an abandoned gypsum quarry used during the French Revolution as a mass grave, the cemetery has only one entrance under Rue Caulaincourt and is the final resting place of many artists and writers who lived in Montmartre such as Edgar Degas (1834-1917), Alexandre Dumas the son (1824-1895), Theophile Gautier (1811-1872), Emile Zola (1840-1902), and Heinrich Heine (1797-1856).

Montmartre Cemetery

The tomb of Heinrich Heine

We watched our steps carefully to avoid the dog poop and the slippery streets that were seldom clean. Nobody walking their dog carried around a plastic bag for their animal’s necessities. The metro tunnel reeked strongly of urine and the loudspeakers informed us almost every day that, ladies and gentlemen, there are robbers on the train.

No matter how careful we were with pickpockets, a little boy, perhaps 7 years old, managed to open the zippered-pocket of my purse resting against my hip. I felt a feathery touch to my elbow and caught him. He winked at the laughing Arab vendors by the Eiffel Tower and ran away while shouting back in perfect English a four-letter word when my husband tried to grab him.

Eiffel Tower Photo: Wikipedia

The Parisians have a love-hate relationship with their expensive landmark that is so costly to maintain. Gustave Eiffel was highly criticized in 1889 for building such a gauche monstrosity for the World’s Fair but Le Tour Eiffel has become a cultural icon. Accessible by lift, the tower is 324 meters tall, the equivalent of an 81-story building, with 3 visitor-levels and restaurants on the first and second levels. We had a romantic dinner on the second level, followed by a very windy and spectacular 360 degree view of Paris.

Although the tower was to be dismantled twenty years later, the city decided that it was valuable for communications and meteorological experiments and let it stand. One of the most famous visitors, Thomas Edison, was invited by Gustave Eiffel to his private apartment at the top of the tower and signed the guest book. I was excited when we took photographs that are now catalogued into the permanent visitor database. The tower boasted its 250^th millionth visitor in 2010.

Place Pigalle with its 19^th century cabarets and the infamous Moulin Rouge, which I am ashamed to admit that I was talked into going to watch a very expensive and debauched show with elbow-room only, was a cacophony of neon lights, falafel stands, rotating hunks of shaved lamb, decadence, wine, irreverence, and a Sex Museum, in sharp contrast with the quiet and charming houses just streets away.

Parisians call Montmartre “the Butte,” a former village incorporated into Paris in 1860 as the 18^th arrondissement. It has a storied reputation for depravity on account of its many brothels, cabarets, illegal activities, and Bohemian life that has attracted many artists, writers, and a bourgeois following from Paris.

Churches such as the Royal Abbey of St.-Denis, built in 1133 A.D. by Louis VI, St.-Pierre de Montmartre, and Basilica de Sacré-Cœur  bear witness to the area’s earliest places of worship. The Roman-Byzantine Sacré-Cœur, dating to 1876, is a parish of pilgrimage where around the clock vigil has been held for over a century. The Savoyarde Bell, one of the largest in the world, resonating a high C note, was pulled to the top of the hill by twenty-eight horses.

The “Butte” escaped modern development because the gypsum and limestone quarries left throughout their existence numerous tunnels, crisscrossing the Montmartre underground.  

I walked through Montmartre, looking for the feel of that bohemian village of long-ago and I only found the restaurant Moulin de la Galette, where one of the two windmills painted by Renoir still exists.

From the garish Place Pigalle, past Boulevard de Clichy, there was Rue de Martyrs where famous Christian pilgrims walked on their way up to Sacré-Cœur. On rue Yvonne Le Tac, at number 9, it is alleged that St. Denis was beheaded in the 3^rd century and Ignatius de Loyola founded the Jesuits in 1534.

St. Denis at Notre Dame
Photo: Wikipedia

St. Denis, the patron saint of France, was the first bishop of Lutetia (today’s Ile de la Cité) where the Celtic tribe Parisii first settled. St. Denis was tolerated by the Romans for a while until they decided that Christianity was taking hold and they needed to suppress it.

According to legend, St. Denis was arrested, thrown to the lions, and crucified. Unwilling to give up his faith, he was dragged up the Mont des Martyrs (Montmartre), and finally beheaded. He rose from the dead and picked up his head and carried it to a northern village. In the never-ending churning rain, I searched the cobble stones for evidence of blood stains soaked by the dirt or washed by the rains of time.

I can spend days in the Louvre and in Musée d'Orsay.  Opened in 1793 with 537 paintings, the Louvre is located on the right bank of the Seine in the former 12^th century fortress turned palace. In 1682, the Louvre Palace became a repository for royal arts collections when King Luis XIV chose Palace of Versailles as his residence. The world’s most visited museum, the Louvre houses 35,000 pieces of art in many interconnected buildings covering 652,000 square feet.

Situated on the left bank of the Seine, the former Gare d’Orsay, a railway station built in 1898-1900, the Musée d'Orsay houses the largest collection of French art (1848-1905), paintings, sculptures, photography, and furniture, with the largest collection of impressionist and post-impressionist works by Monet, Manet, Renoir, Seurat, Sisley, Gaugain, and Van Gogh.

Palace of Versailles
Photo: Wikipedia

I loved the Palace of Versailles with its fabulous fountains and gardens. Château de Versailles is located in the Ile-de-France region, 20 km southwest of Paris. The court was located here in 1682 by King Louis XIV and then relocated to Paris in 1789 after the beginning of the French Revolution. Versailles is now a wealthy suburb of Paris. A symbol of absolute monarchy, Versailles is surrounded by gardens, fountains, and other quarters. Political functions are still held at Versailles today including exhibits. The dormant gardens were still magnificent and carefully manicured. The famous Hall of Mirrors appeared somewhat tarnished but it was understandable, Galerie des Glaces dates back to 1678.

The famous Hall of Mirrors
Photo: Wikipedia

But the most fascinating places for me were the Cathedral de Notre Dame, Musée de l'Armée, and Napoleon’s Tomb.

The construction of Notre Dame began with the cornerstone in 1163 and ended in 1345, a labor of love that lasted almost two centuries. One legend describes the recasting of the great bell, Emmanuel, which weighs 13 tons, in the 17^th century. As the metal was melting, ladies threw their gold and silver jewelry into the mixture perhaps contributing to the bell’s F-sharp tone. Although there are ten bells, all but one had been taken out of use due to their excessive vibration causing damage to the structure.

Notre Dame de Paris is an example of French Gothic architecture with flying buttresses, rose stained glass windows, water spouts in the shape of phantasmagorical gargoyles and decorative gargoyles called grotesques. It is the Cathedral of the Archdiocese of Paris, with important reliquaries such as the alleged Crown of Thorns, a fragment of the True Cross, and one of the original Holy Nails of the crucifixion. These relics are brought out once a year during Good Friday.

We waited for an hour in the cold blustery wind and drizzly rain in order to climb the narrow stairs up to the south tower platform overlooking the spire, the flying buttresses, and the magnificent river Seine and Paris below. I imagined Victor Hugo’s character, the Hunchback of Notre Dame, carrying Esmeralda up to safety. Perhaps Hugo’s book inspired Parisians to raise money to save their Lady from demolition. Desecrated by radicals during the French Revolution, much of the religious artifacts and icons were damaged or destroyed. It has been restored continuously since 1845.

During Napoleon’s self-coronation in December 1804, Notre Dame was so damaged that tapestries had to be hung to cover the dilapidated interior. The Revolutionaries had robbed the treasury, pillaged the church, and smashed the 28 statues of the Kings of Judea thinking that they were statues of the kings of France. Twenty-one of the heads were found and are now housed in the Musée de Cluny. The head of King David is exhibited in the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York.

Notre Dame has great historical significance because it was built over the ruins of a Roman temple in Gaul dedicated to Jupiter, a fourth century church, and a sixth century basilica. Twelve stones originally used in the Roman temple were found in the foundation of the basilica.  The Huguenots (French Protestants) damaged parts of the cathedral in 1548, having considered the interior statues, paintings, and stained glass windows idolatry. During the French Revolution, Notre Dame was rededicated to the Cult of Reason in 1793 and then to the Cult of the Supreme Being. Damaged by stray bullets in WWII, Biblical stained glass windows were replaced by geometric patterns. To me Notre Dame is a symbol of survival, in spite of numerous assaults from those attempting to destroy the house of God because it contradicted their beliefs.

Les Invalides Hotel Photo: Wikipedia

Within the grounds of Les Invalides,  there are three museums,  Musée de l'Armée,  Musée de l’Ordre de la Liberation, and  Musée des Plans-Reliefs.  Napoleon’s Tomb is located behind Les Invalides massive courtyard.

Musée de l'Armée, one of the most complete military museums in the world, was established in 1905 and contains Napoleonic memorabilia, his personal effects, antique armor and weaponry through modern times, artillery, uniforms, paintings, and anything imaginable of military history.    

Musée des Plans-Reliefs contains collections dating back to 1668 of three-dimensional models of fortified towns. The newer Musée de l’Ordre de la Liberation was established to honor all who fought for France during WWII. General de Gaulle created the Order of Liberation in 1940.

Les Invalides was a hospital commissioned by Luis XIV in 1670 for 1,500 invalids among his veterans of war.  Its success prompted other monarchs to model their military hospitals after Les Invalides. During WWII German troops set up headquarters in Les Invalides with its huge interior courtyard.

The church of Les Invalides is the final resting place of Napoleon Bonaparte and several of his family members, military officers who served under him, and French military heroes.  Designed as a royal chapel and completed in 1706, it became a mausoleum for Napoleon’s body when it was returned from Saint Helena in 1840.  His ashes were incased in a porphyry crypt in 1861.

In the middle of the church dome, Napoleon’s remains are encased in six coffins, iron, mahogany, lead (2), ebony, and oak.  The exterior is a huge red quartzite sarcophagus, resting on a green granite base. In the recessed opulent marble walls encircling Napoleon I massive sarcophagus are the resting places of his family, his officers, and other French military heroes.

Napoleon’s elder and younger brothers are buried here, Joseph and Jérôme-Napoléon Bonaparte, and his son, Napoleon II (1811-1832). The bodies of many generals, marshals, vice-admirals, and admirals are interred here as well as the hearts of some military men of note. My friend Harriet would be pleased to know that a Gen. Henri Putz was buried here in 1925.

Not far from Notre Dame, the national French pastime of drinking wine and dining with friends late at night is visible everywhere. King Louis XVI believed that persons not drinking wine are fanatics. He blamed the French Revolution on the fact that its leader, Robespierre, drank only water. (David Hoffman, Little Known Facts about Paris, 2008)

The poetic Parisian moniker, the City of Lights (La Ville Lumière), of the Age of Enlightenment, has perhaps little to do with the electricity from the 276 monuments, thousands of hotels, 70 churches, fountains, bridges, and canals that illuminate the romantic city every night, even though Paris was one of the first European cities to be lit by gas street lights.  It refers more to the light of knowledge borne by philosophers, poets, writers, artists, sculptors, painters, and musicians when Paris became the cultural center of Europe and of the world.

 

Parisians have never been frugal, leaving behind a legacy of unmatched beauty, with the exception perhaps of Etienne de Silhouette, King Louis XV’s finance minister, who attempted to balance the nation’s budget by melting down all items made of gold and silver. Thankfully, reasonable minds prevailed. He was so cheap that he became the symbol of frugality gone awry and of “silhouettes,” shadow profile portraits cut from black paper that were cheaper than real portraits.

So much history, so much art, so much heroism, so much beautiful architecture, music, and so many firsts in our western civilization can be found in Paris alone. What will happen to all the art, to church icons, sculptures, outdoor statues, monuments, obelisks, old Basilicas, stained glass works of art, archeological ruins, and ornate fountains when Muslims become the majority in Paris and elsewhere in Europe? Would all evidence of our civilization be wiped out as idolatry? Would they suffer the fate of the Bamiyan Buddhas in Afghanistan that were blown up by the Taliban in spite of protests coming from around the civilized world?

What would happen to the priceless works of art at the Vatican, the very Vatican that is now embracing with ardor the violent religionists of peace who put fatwas on snowmen because they are overtly sexual?

Would all symbols of our advanced culture meet the fate of the Madonna in Perugia, Italy, which was shattered and urinated upon? What would happen to our western civilization that fundamentally clashes with the cult of death and destruction?

"The City of Lights"

The Parisian nickname "the City of Light," of Enlightenment, has nothing to do with the electricity from 276 monuments, hotels, churches, fountains, bridges, and canals that illuminate the city every night, it refers to the light of knowledge coming from intellectuals, poets, writers, artists, sculptors, painters, writers, and musicians of the 1920s when Paris became the cultural center of Europe and of the world.

Parisians have never been penny pinchers with the exception perhaps of Etienne de Silhouette, King Louis XV’s finance minister who attempted to balance the nation’s budget by melting down all items made of gold and silver. Thankfully, reasonable minds prevailed. He was so cheap that he became the symbol of frugality gone awry and of “silhouettes,” shadow profile portraits cut from black paper that were cheaper than real portraits.

Parisians are in love with spending and national financial generosity with other people’s money, better known as socialized welfare. They feel so strongly about their generous government benefits that they kicked out President Sarkozy last year and elected the socialist Francois Hollande who promised them even more welfare and a roll back of the retirement age that Sarkozy had set at 62.

President Hollande is not backing down on his promise to tax those who make 1 million euros or more a year at 75 percent even though France’s Constitutional Council declared the tax unconstitutional. The French government announced a revised tax version for 2013. (http://www.nytimes.com/2012/12/30/world/europe/gerard-depardieu-stirs-belgian-border-town.html?pagewanted=all&_r=0)

Gérard Depardieu, actor and producer, has had enough of the outrageous fleecing, so he decided to turn in his French passport and move to a sleepy little village in Néchin, Belgium. Vladimir Putin offered him a Russian passport although it is unclear if Mr. Depardieu accepted. A flat tax of 13 percent in Russia seems more appealing than the 75 percent marginal tax rate for the rich in France. Gérard Depardieu, who owns about a dozen vineyards around the world, a wine label, and a superb movie career, is not a tax dodger; the 64-year old movie producer has paid his lion’s share of taxes in the last 45 years, $192 million to be exact.

The optician chain tycoon, Alain Afflelou, has planned to flee Paris for England to escape President Hollande’s 75 percent marginal tax, joined by thousands other French millionaires. David Cameron was prepared to roll out the red carpet for the expatriates. A Victoria Secret model, restaurateur Alain Ducasse, and singer Johnny Hallyday have already left France. (http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2185231/High-earners-planning-leave-France-75-tax-rate-income-1million-euros-goes-ahead.html#ixzz2K8nAvjP3)

President Francois Hollande and his energy minister, Delphine Batho, would like to turn off lights in and outside public buildings, offices, and stores after 1 a.m. Paris will literally no longer be the city of lights and romantic glow. This is not good for the tourist industry. However, robbers and pick-pockets will thrive. And there are plenty of them in Paris.  

Energy minister Batho touted the energy savings from lights-out and the French “sobriety.” Everyone will be sober figuratively and literally, as few will dare go out in the dark to their favorite cafes and restaurants. A new rule passed in July 2012 required businesses to turn off lights between 1 a.m. and 6 a.m. as part of the plan to reduce energy consumption 20 percent by 2020. (http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2254565/Lights-turned-France-save-money-sobriety.html#ixzz2K8oeGQaV)

The national pastime of drinking wine and dining with friends late at night may suffer. King Louis XVI believed that persons not drinking wine are fanatics. He blamed the French Revolution on the fact that its leader, Robespierre, drank only water. (David Hoffman, Little Known Facts about Paris, 2008)

The draconian measure to turn off lights at night seems extreme since France generates over 75 percent of its electricity needs from nuclear power and 17 percent from recycled nuclear fuel. France is the largest net exporter of electricity because the cost of generating it is very low. The exportation of electricity provides 3 billion euros a year in revenue. (http://www.world-nuclear.org/info/inf40.html)

Who needs illumination in the City of Lights when the French are unwilling to give up their stellar early retirements, lifetime employment, generous pensions, 5 weeks paid vacations, two year paid maternity leave, subsidized elegant housing, two week spa treatments disguised as health care, and shortened work weeks? Socialized welfare lifestyle is grand until the government runs short of money, corners are cut, and the lavish generosity must be scaled back.

My train ride to Paris

I was visiting France and Monaco with 20 of my best students. April, who was 15 years old at the time, was joining us on her first trip to Europe. I was worried because she was so much younger than everyone else; I wanted her to be safe, but learn some independence and see the world outside of her American cocoon.

We were in beautiful Nice with the sloping, winding roads among gorgeous villas, white and pink blooms hanging from elaborate fences and trellises. We spent two nights in a four star hotel, with beautiful marble tiles, exquisite vistas, luxurious surroundings, sprawling gardens, delicious food, and rich tapestries and furniture from an area gone by.

I was mesmerized by the landscape, looking forward to the luxurious Mercedes bus ride to Paris, sightseeing the French countryside along the way. I knew it would be a long, long journey, but it seemed magical and I was full of trepidation, of discovering the wondrous unexpected.

To my surprise, our Italian guide, Giaccomo, who had driven us safely for 10 days within inches of our lives overhanging canyons miles deep, dangerous dead man curves, on winding roads that made us dizzy, pulled the Pullman bus within inches of the narrow walls carved into the granite of the cliff, into a parking area. That was the end of our journey under the care of Giaccomo. We had to take the overnight train to Paris, it was much faster. How much faster? A twelve hour train ride in a couchette, awaited us at the main train station in Nice. Some students were happy for the opportunity to sleep the night away, others were disappointed to miss the sights from the over sized Pullman windows. Either way, it was an unexpected twist and change to our carefully planned itinerary. I was sure, I would never hire this particular company on our next adventure.

We spent the day in Nice, visiting the sights, a perfume factory, and a famous porcelain manufacturer. At nightfall, we headed for the train station. We said our goodbyes to Giaccomo, took our luggage and started loading up on the train. To our surprise, a group of Canadians took our accommodations first and we were relegated to a long open car with sleeping recliners. It was an adventure, so we reluctantly agreed. Not that we could have done anything about it, the French were very unpleasant and unwilling to help the despised Americans.

We took our seats shortly before the 7 p.m. departure. Our arrival time in Paris was 7 a.m., on time to have breakfast in the Grand La Garre. April sat by the window, I took the aisle seat so I could get up and down the car, checking on my 20 charges. There were some adults with us from Texas, a couple of nurses, husband and wife, which eased my anxiety in case someone got sick.

I had a parent with us whose supervision proved to be much more difficult than all the other students combined. She kept disappearing for hours on end, always returning with bottles of wine which she consumed constantly and some giggolo she picked up on the way. No doubt, she was having a good time, no care in the world, her daughter was taking care of her. I had to make sure, we did not leave her behind in Monaco.

We pulled from the station and the country side started rolling past the windows until we reached the port Le Havre. The tracks were so close to the water, the furious waves were crashing into the concrete barriers and breaking into the train tracks. Our windows were misted with sea water. A large contingent of gypsies climbed onto the train. I knew from that moment on that we would have trouble. I was not confident that the two French conductors would keep them under check. They walked from car to car trying to sell drugs to passengers, accompanied by a huge dog. I was terrified when the dog passed me, he was taller than I was in my chair.

Sure enough, the trouble-seeking mom got into an altercation with the gypsies and we found her slumped in-between compartments, with a half-empty bottle of wine, passed out. We were not sure if she was drunk or took drugs, we could not wake her. We dragged her to her seat and the two nurses checked her pulse, positioned her head so she could breathe unobstructed and checked on her from time to time. We never knew what happened with the gypsies. We did know that she slept the entire 12 hours until we reached Paris and could not remember anything at all. As a matter of fact, she was the most rested of the entire group. I was worried and took catnaps of 10 minutes each before waking to make sure the gypsies had not returned.

To everyone's delight, at the last stop before Paris, a contingent of French legionnaires climbed aboard and filled our entire car. The students were relieved that they were now safe - the mere presence of the tall and buff legionnaires was enough to chase the ticketless gypsies off the train. But I knew better. The French legionnaires were soldiers-for-hire from all over Europe, killers and murderers with the training to break someone's neck on a whim if necessary. And they were not paid that well, 20,000 euros per year.

Across from April and me were two fierce looking soldiers-of-fortune. I decided to strike up a conversation with them under the belief that they would leave us alone if I, the leader of the group, befriended them. One was Irish and the other one was Ukrainian. I spoke Russian and French so I was comfortable with Igor and his Irish bunk-mate. As a matter of fact, they helped me with the passed-out woman, she was hefty to pick up, and she kept falling out of her seat.

I still did not sleep much, waking every 15 minutes or so out of sheer worry for my April and my student's safety. When we reached Paris, these legionnaires, who were on leave to spend fun time in Paris, helped us off the train with all of our luggage and were perfect gentlemen. I was so pleasantly surprised, we invited them to have breakfast with us. There was a happy ending to my twelve hour turmoil on a French night train to Paris.

We loaded another bus, another driver, another guide, and we started to tour Paris immediately. When we got to the Louvre, all the exhaustion and the previous night's travails were forgotten, until now when they flooded back into my memory.