Ah, the dangers of WebMD. I decided on the metro back from St-Denis, when the cough turned into a multi-minute attack that made me feel panicky because I couldn't breathe well, that what I was experiencing felt much more like an asthma attack than simply a cold. I blame the catfish, which surely harbors all sorts of asthma spores despite its many years away from its previous owner. Anyway, I went into a pharmacy, told them that I have asthma and lost my inhaler (which, while technically true, neglects the key fact that I haven't had an inhaler for at least two years) -- and they were able to give me an inhaler, without a prescription, for only five euros. Score! Thanks, socialized medicine!
Anyway, today was good, although I didn't get quite the early start that I intended; I set my alarm for seven, woke up when it went off, accidentally hit 'dismiss' instead of 'snooze' -- and woke up again a little after nine. I rushed around and got ready, but ended up cutting Notre Dame from my itinerary -- I saw it several years ago, and of all the things on my list, it's the monument I'm most likely to be able to find detailed descriptions/pictures of online.
However, I did make it to Ste-Chapelle and Conciergerie this morning. Ste-Chapelle was built at the royal chapel for the palace of the early kings of France (Merovingians and Capetians), who lived on the island in the middle of the city (Ile de la Cite, which should be easy enough to figure out for those of you who like cognates). The kings later moved out of town when they decided it was no longer safe to be on an island surrounded by an increasingly bitter and angry populace (this was in 1358, several hundred years before the Revolution -- surely they could have found someone a little better at PR during those centuries to ease tensions with the people?). The palace fell apart, leaving only the Conciergerie, which was used as a royal prison for many years, ultimately falling into the hands of the revolutionaries. During the Revolution, it served as the last holding place for many prisoners destined for the guillotine, including Marie-Antoinette (who stayed there for two months), and ultimately ending with Robespierre (whose revolution got away from him). The other remaining area is Ste-Chapelle, which was built to house the relic purported to be the Crown of Thorns; it's an amazing two-story chapel, with a lower area for the palace staff and an upper chapel with absolutely astonishing stained-glass windows that was only used by the king and his hangers-on. All in all, both buildings were quite fascinating, but I'm glad I went at 10am and avoided the hour-long line that I skipped yesterday...
After touring those buildings, I was starving, and stopped at a cafe for a bowl of onion soup (which was v. inferior to the bowl I had yesterday, so I didn't finish it). Then, I caught a metro train to the Basilique du St-Denis, on the northern edge of Paris. St-Denis is where all but three of the French kings from the last 1000 years were buried. The revolutionaries, in the typical asshole spirit they demonstrated towards all things royal (living or dead) during their brief time in power, dug up all the graves and dumped the bodies into two lime-filled pits; but, the funerary statues and monuments were saved by some dude who was in charge of preserving 'art', and when Louis XVIII came into power after Napoleon, he reinstated the monuments (the bodies obviously could not be discerned from one another, so he had them dug up again and placed into the crypt). In another strange tidbit, someone turned up the pickled heart of Louis XVII (the ten-year-old son of Louis XVI and Marie-Antoinette, who died of tuberculosis in prison -- my lungs feel his pain, ha) -- apparently his body was dumped somewhere in Paris, but someone picked his heart and kept it in a jar. You'll be happy to know the heart is now buried at St-Denis too.
Anyway, St-Denis was totally worth going to; it's just far enough away from the main tourist areas of Paris that there were probably <100 people in the basilica while I was there, which in a church that size is practically no one. This is a far cry from Ste-Chapelle or Notre Dame, and much more peaceful and enjoyable. Also, since I'm researching my gargoyle young adult romance novel, and it relies heavily on statues, I was in my own little version of heaven.
I made it back from St-Denis with enough time to go to Musee Carnavalet (with a stop at the pharmacy); I didn't enjoy it to its full potential because my contacts were fogging over, and the amount of stuff there was rather overwhelming, but it's essentially a history of Paris spread out over four wings and multiple floors of two 16th-century houses that have been merged into a museum. I particularly enjoyed the various rooms of furnishings (as I always do), but ran out of patience for the endless paintings, and so eventually gave up and found my way out. I came back to the hotel, grabbed my notebook, and spent a couple of hours at a nearby cafe, eating pizza, drinking diet coke and coffee, and contemplating what I've seen so far.
And now, I really must go to bed; I really really want to get an early start tomorrow so that I can beat (some of) the crowds to Versailles. I'm going to post a few pictures, and then I'm off to bed -- goodnight!
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