Quand je marche dans la rue
La rue vers le Sacré-Cœur
Je me souviens des promesses
Au nom de l'amour
Je me souviens des promesses
Au nom de l'amour
Hello BlueBearies! Guess who is back on the blog!!
Today's blog post is dedicated to two of the most iconic, quintessential French masterpieces: the Eiffel Tower (of course) and the Sacré-Cœur Basilica.
It was a lifelong dream to see these beauties in person, and on Saturday July 15th, 2017, this dream was finally realized.
This lovely warm morning, our troupe of friends ventured into yet another day of cultural appreciation. Sarah and I caught an early train to meet up with the boys at the Abbesses station, a central spot to reconvene. This 115 year old station is located right by Montmartre, which was our first stop of the day. Once the guys showed up, we took a stroll down a long shoppers avenue, on the hunt for new shoes for JJ. We caught up with another friend named Lucinda before heading to Montmartre.
Montmartre is a dream centre for all different sorts of travellers. If you enjoy hiking, you can take the approximately 300 steps up to the Basilica, sharing stairs with frolicking children and sweaty sauntering couples. Feeling tired? Take the Montmartre Funicular, which will take a convenient minute and a half to travel up the hill, giving your tired toes a break. In the mood to shop? Join the tourists and locals alike on the main streets, basking in the boisterous crowds and constant lyrical surroundings. The walls are decorated with tastefully creative graffiti, reflecting the very obvious joie de vivre of both visitor and resident alike.
Sacré Cœur is, for lack of a better word, pristine. A glistening white gem atop Montmartre, it attracts the masses in search of that complete panoramic shot of the cityscape. There's a particular solemnity that accompanies a view like that; there's a feeling of being with many but feeling alone, absorbed in the historically rich past and present of Paris.
After hiking up the hill, we went back to the main street, where suddenly a dulcet aroma invaded my senses and my chocoholic heart rejoiced. There before us was Maison GEORGE LARNICOL, Chocolate Artisan. To call it a mere chocolate shoppe would be like calling the Vitruvian Man a simple sketch. The intoxicating scent drew us in immediately, whilst feasting our eyes on incredible sculptures made of PURE CHOCOLATE.
Venus De Milo? DONE. A replica of Notre Dame? DONE. THERE'S A CHOCOLATE EIFFEL TOWER!!! I was obviously too eager to spend (as in time and money), but alas I left the shoppe empty-handed save for picture evidence of the sweet works of art.
After perusing the various stores and having gotten lunch (which slips my mind currently, I'll try to remember later), we hopped on a bus towards the Eiffel Tower. Now I know what you're probably thinking: "isn't this TERRIBLY touristy of you, Alyssa? Every Tom, Dick and Harry wants to go to the Eiffel Tower; so typical!"
WELL.
The Tower, or rather the idea of visiting it, was and is rather dear to me due to someone very close to me: my father. It has been Dad's dream to see it in person for as long as I can remember. Having been in a French congregation as a small child and having a francophile as a father imprinted this fondness for the architectural giant from an early age.
Dad, if you're reading this, I'll tell you here what I haven't since I returned from this trip almost a year ago: I cried when I saw it. It was just as beautiful as you always imagined, as impressive in stature as in atmosphere. Waiting almost 2 hours in line was very well worth it.
I could wax poetic about the view once you're on the very top, but I think the pictures will tell the story much better.
As we squeezed back into the elevator to descend, an ominous sound of crackling and awakening machinery shook the building. Peeking out the window provided the answer: they were turning on the lights that glitter the Parisian sky nightly 5 minutes every evening hour. Our quartet joined the rest of the group, where they'd set a blanket with a perfect French picnic: cold cuts, cheese, bread, grapes and wine. If I could select the most Woody Allen moment, it would be watching the light show, the area abuzz with emotion and awe. Thus closed a spectacular day, my imagination and expectations beyond surpassed.
This has been a picture heavy blog post, but I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless! It had been MONTHS since I'd last even attempted writing; I suppose that the reality that this trip was almost a year ago is really hitting me now. Once the Paris chapter is finished, I'll begin on chronicling our Italy adventures. Stay tuned for the next post, lovely blog readers!!
Love,
The Adventurous A.
Venus De Milo? DONE. A replica of Notre Dame? DONE. THERE'S A CHOCOLATE EIFFEL TOWER!!! I was obviously too eager to spend (as in time and money), but alas I left the shoppe empty-handed save for picture evidence of the sweet works of art.
After perusing the various stores and having gotten lunch (which slips my mind currently, I'll try to remember later), we hopped on a bus towards the Eiffel Tower. Now I know what you're probably thinking: "isn't this TERRIBLY touristy of you, Alyssa? Every Tom, Dick and Harry wants to go to the Eiffel Tower; so typical!"
WELL.
The Tower, or rather the idea of visiting it, was and is rather dear to me due to someone very close to me: my father. It has been Dad's dream to see it in person for as long as I can remember. Having been in a French congregation as a small child and having a francophile as a father imprinted this fondness for the architectural giant from an early age.
Dad, if you're reading this, I'll tell you here what I haven't since I returned from this trip almost a year ago: I cried when I saw it. It was just as beautiful as you always imagined, as impressive in stature as in atmosphere. Waiting almost 2 hours in line was very well worth it.
A word to the adventurous: I highly recommend getting the Combine ticket if you're going up the tower. It allows you to walk the first two levels and then take the elevator up the rest of the way. Only 4 of us ended up doing the climb ultimately (our trio along with Brian, the tour guide extraordinaire who unexpectedly joined us in the waiting line), while the other sisters prepped in advance for an evening picnic on the tower's grounds.
I could wax poetic about the view once you're on the very top, but I think the pictures will tell the story much better.
As we squeezed back into the elevator to descend, an ominous sound of crackling and awakening machinery shook the building. Peeking out the window provided the answer: they were turning on the lights that glitter the Parisian sky nightly 5 minutes every evening hour. Our quartet joined the rest of the group, where they'd set a blanket with a perfect French picnic: cold cuts, cheese, bread, grapes and wine. If I could select the most Woody Allen moment, it would be watching the light show, the area abuzz with emotion and awe. Thus closed a spectacular day, my imagination and expectations beyond surpassed.
This has been a picture heavy blog post, but I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless! It had been MONTHS since I'd last even attempted writing; I suppose that the reality that this trip was almost a year ago is really hitting me now. Once the Paris chapter is finished, I'll begin on chronicling our Italy adventures. Stay tuned for the next post, lovely blog readers!!
Love,
The Adventurous A.
