Five Days in Paris: Day 4, Part 1

Sunday, I let Mr. Traveler sleep in a little while I played princesses with Baby L and watched Cinderella. I’d agreed to wake Mr. Traveler up at 10:00, but he stumbled out of the bedroom a minute before his human alarm clock. After a cinnamon roll, we were both ready to go, and Cousin C drove us to the train station once again. When we got to the station, Mr. Traveler realized he didn’t have his phone, but I wasn’t in the mood to go back, and I was sure we could manage without its navigation capabilities.

Our first stop was the Sacré-Cœur Basilica, from which we had been told we could see a great view of the city. Luckily, the sky was bright blue without a cloud in sight. When we got off the Metro at the appropriate stop, we started up the nearest street, having been advised that the basilica was atop the hill. The street was lined with tourist shops selling trinkets and tasteless merchandise. Men hustling for cash with the shell game stood in the middle of the street and cars that wanted through had to honk and wait for the swindles to move. This definitely seemed the right direction for a tourist site, and sure enough, about halfway up the street the basilica came into view. Stark white against the blue sky, the building seemed to be asserting its presence in the city. We began to make our way up the many steps leading to the church, itself. 

Me at Sacré-Cœur

Along the steps, we were greeted by independent (and most likely illegal) trinket vendors, selling miniature Eiffel Towers, toys, and friendship-style bracelets. Some of the vendors were especially assertive, and one went so far as to grip hold of Mr. Traveler’s arm when he tried to bypass the man without buying. The vendor seemed taken aback when Mr. Traveler asserted himself, showing his disapproval at the vendor’s technique. (A few days after we returned from our trip, I finished reading Nigel Barley's “The Innocent Anthropologist: Notes from a Mud Hut”. In it, Barley discusses his trouble reacclimating to polite British culture after living in Cameroon, where West Africans asserted themselves with firm tones and even by gripping hold of a person with whom they were having a discussion. Since many of the vendors were from West Africa, I wonder if the cultural differences contributed to what we perceived as inappropriate aggression.)

Other people tried to earn a profit in different methods, and we saw one person performing balancing acts and dances with a soccer ball and another playing the harp on the steps to the basilica.

Soccer Ball Performer

Seems difficult to get this instrument up and down the steps

Finally past the vendors, hustlers, and performers, we encountered crowds of fellow tourists at the top of the hill.

Fellow Tourists

We decided to head into the basilica and look around. No pictures were allowed in the building (there are a few limited ones on their Web site - you kind of have to look around), but I was struck by the beauty of the tile mosaics on the walls and ceilings. Construction on the basilica began in 1875. According to Wikipedia, "Sacré-Cœur is a double monument, political and cultural, both a national penance for the brutal recapturing of the city during the socialist Paris Commune of 1871 crowning its most rebellious neighborhood, and an embodiment of conservative moral order, publicly dedicated to the Sacred Heart of Jesus, which was an increasingly popular vision of a loving and sympathetic Christ."

After touring the basilica, we forgot about the artist community A had told us about down the street, and instead opted to rest for a second in a park behind the church. Walking around the church, I was struck by two things. First, I was surprised that no one seemed to be photographing the beautiful church next door. Saint-Pierre de Montmartre. Of medieval origin, the church was rebuilt in the 19th century.

 

Saint-Pierre de Montemarte

Second, I noticed that the back of the basilica was covered in dirt, showing the true age of the building. Although the bright white in the front certainly made a statement, the back seemed to evoke more of a connection with the past of the church, and in my mind seemed more sacred than the touristy views normally captured.

Back of the Basilica

Stay tuned for Day 4, Part 2 (because there is just way too much to include in one post).