Thursday night Phil and I decided to head out to Montmartre together to climb the hill and visit the Basilique du Sacré-Coeur. It never ceases to amaze me how things are in such proximity to one another in Europe. For instance, Montmartre is a quaint little area, with lovely shops and side streets winding up and down the hill. On top of the hill you have this:
The plan for Friday was to see the Basilique Saint-Denis, the traditional place of internment for the kings of France (think Westminster Abbey) and, if I had time, I really wanted to see the catacombs as well (yes, I know they're not in the same parts of the city - what's your point?).
Now, the Basilique is in a really bad part of Paris (technically not even in Paris). For instance, I arrived about 15 minutes before the church opened, and decided to stop for a quick coffee at a brasserie across the square, and there were people at the bar having a beer. At 9:45 AM. Yikes!
But dudes, seriously? It was worth it.
So, keeping up with that day's theme (my original title for Friday's post was going to be He's Dead, Jim), I took the metro towards the 20th arrondissement, bound for the Catacombs of Paris. Since it was lunch time, I stopped at a little patisserie for a sandwich and an éclair (it had chocolate custard - I nearly cried), and then made my way to the ossuary.
Naturally, after this visit, I needed a little pick me up. I hadn't really planned anything else for that day, but it was only around 1:30 in the afternoon when I emerged from the depths, and I didn't quite know what to do. It was only when I was scoping out the route back to the hotel along the metro that I noticed that the Opéra Garnier, Paris' most famous opera house, was on the way.
Across the street from the Opéra are the Galeries Lafayette, a very posh department store. I wandered around in there for a while, a bit dazzled at being in such close proximity to so many designer names (I think I found shoe heaven), and I even made a purchase, in the Mode Séduction department (that'd be the lingerie floor)...
See, that night Phil and I had our Bateau Mouche dinner cruise along the Seine, to celebrate our 15-year anniversary. It was quite nice, but in retrospect probably not as romantic as we thought it would be. First, the food wasn't that great. Second, we couldn't really see the monuments because we were inside, and even though the dining area is encased in glass, you can still only see the bottom of any given building. And third? Well... Tara drank a LOT of wine and was sick as the proverbial dog on her return home (as she was 15 years ago, funnily enough)... Insert sheepish grin here.
So that was my trip to Paris! I managed to see almost everything I wanted to, I had great food, great wine, quality alone time (something no mother of small children takes for granted) and time alone with my husband. But I was glad to be home last night. I missed my kids, I missed my family and my little life.
We'll be returning to our regular knit-related blogging this week. Yes, there WAS knitting during this trip, and I've got a few things to show you. Until then, I hope you enjoyed reading about our trip as much as I enjoyed writing about it.
Happy Knitting Everyone!