Paris Trip- Thursday: Pantheon and St Germain des Pres

St Germain des Pres Cathedral

I woke up on the fourth day and my feet were a little stiff hitting the floor. We had covered a lot of miles so far! That morning I cooked bacon from the neighborhood grocer. I cooked it in the microwave and had to have Andrea coach me; I don't own one and it had been a long while since I had even tried to use one. I had my bacon with a chocolate almond croissant. It was delicious! Not nearly as salty as our bacon and with a fresh flavor. I am thinking that it wasn't smoked or cured, just fresh pork slice.

Yep, a beautiful door!

While I'm talking about microwaves, I promised to tell you about the washer and dryer. We were blessed to have one in our apartment, from what I understand they are not a common household appliance. Yes, I said appliance, singular. The little box (about the size of a big microwave back home) was both washer and dryer. Remember how I told you European appliances are notoriously slow? Well, our guide book mentioned this also, and suggested the quick cycle on the machine. Two bath towels and one hand towel was the max capacity for our little washer. And when you set it for the quick cycle, the numbers 2:40 came on the screen. Yeah. It's what you're thinking. A wash and dry of that size load took 2 hours and 40 minutes. For someone who had a hubby and three boys in the house I shudder to think of trying to do laundry there! (I was remembering all the loads I used to do in one day and imagining how long that would take, two towels at a time. I estimate that I would just now be catching up on the clothes from fifteen years ago!;) But the little dear worked well, and we had fresh towels. All's well that ends well!

Every little cafe had this type of chairs, bamboo with a fake rattan weave of weatherproof plastic. They came in every color combination and were so cheery. Andy was smitten with them and is determined to hunt some down stateside.

Prior to leaving home I had intended to spend all Thursday at the royal palaces at Versailles. I have always wanted to see the Hall of mirrors, the gardens, and Marie Antoinette's little hamlet. After seeing the other royal gardens in Paris, I was not as keen to traipse the 40 acres at Versailles. I decided that I would rather continue on with our exploration of Paris. Andrea was so sweet; every time that I changed my plans she would ask me if I was sure. She kept saying she didn't want me to go home and be sad that I had skipped something I had been looking forward to!

The Sorbonne

So, on this particular morning we hopped on the metro and went the furthest south that we would go in Paris. We walked past the Sorbonne, a university founded in 1253 so that poor students who desired to study theology could go and live and study for free. In 1469 it had France's first printing press.  The teachers included St Thomas Aquinas, Peter Abelard, and Roger Bacon. Some of the students were Dante, Calvin, and Longfellow. There was a huge line of parked bicycles and students milling about with backpacks while we went by. Can you imagine going to a school with such a long and illustrious history?

The Pantheon

From there we went on to the Pantheon. And it looks just like a Roman temple. It was originally going to be a church, but Napoleon decided to make it a shrine to great men (and women).

 I was most excited to see Foucault's Pendulum. It hangs from a cable 220 feet from within the dome. You can just barely see the fine white line of cable in the photo below.

It was with this pendulum that Foucault demonstrated the rotation of the earth. I thought that it would be an infinitesimal movement, one you had to study to discern, but no, the golden orb at the end of the cable swings like the pendulum of a clock. In fact, you may see there are numbers around the Plexiglas circle. The globe marks the time of day by its movement.

And here is the astounding thing. It is not the brass globe that is  moving. It is stationary, while the earth is moving below it! When I thought of the vast movements it was making, it made me feel a little unsteady. I'll let you ponder the wonder of that...

Another glorious thing was an entire wall of exquisitely painted murals of my heroine, Joan of Arc, that were painted on canvas and glued to the walls with white lead and oil. I don't know how anyone can fail to be impressed with her life. She was a humble and illiterate shepherdess who heard the voice of God tell her that she was meant to lead the French army again the English invaders. 

She went to speak to Charles VII, who was waiting to be crowned king. She asked for a private audience and the king later said that she knew secrets about him that he had spoken to no one but God. No one knows what all was said, but the king was convinced to let a 16 year old girl don armor and lead his soldiers!

Today that would be an astounding thing, at a time when women had little to no rights or respect- it is a miracle. Joan led the army to many victories, the men believing that they could not fail if she led. She was even shot with an arrow between her neck and shoulder and did not leave her men.

But then Joan was captured by French soldiers loyal to the English cause, and handed over to the British. She was placed on trial for heresy,  hearing "voices", and wearing men's clothing. She made several valiant attempts at escape, including leaping from a 70 foot tower. Even under threat of torture and death she would not admit that it was not God who spoke to her. At 18 years of age she was tied to a stake and set afire, her only request being to hold the cross, and her last words, " Jesus, Jesus, Jesus." 

Whether you believe in saints or no, the girl was a paragon of hope and piety to the very end of her short life. As a child I was inspired  by a young girl wearing armor and riding into battle. As an adult I am in awe of her unwavering faith. Love you, Joan!

The Pantheon is also the tomb of many of France's great people. Louis Braille, Voltaire, and Marie Curie are all buried there. I went down to see the tomb of Victor Hugo (author of Les Miserables and The Hunchback of Notre Dame) and Alexandre Dumas ( of The Three Musketeers and Count of Monte Cristo fame). 

There were people sitting and standing in the tombs, and fresh roses and small gifts left among the relics.

We left the Pantheon and went to the Luxembourg Gardens. 

Again, garden being a subjective word. In America we would call it a park.

Above is Luxembourg Palace, at one time the royal residence.

Like the Tulleries Gardens, this one has large expanses of gravel, along with ponds, beautiful statuary, and sparse but perfectly regimented flowers. 

But here we got to see the children playing with the small sailboats that are for rent. It was one of Andrea's favorite scenes, and a literal page out of the children's book, This is Paris, that we bought the day before.

Another interesting thing is that the French Secret Service has their headquarters UNDER the park. In secret, obviously.

This is upon stepping out of the garden gate. The dog is as big as the man, and nearly as polished. Check out his owner's red pants and shoes and blue jacket. Love it!

We exited on the opposite side of the gardens and went in search of a charcutterie that I wanted to find. It was supposed to have an amazing array of rillettes and pates- such as Starling with Juniper berries. I was hoping to buy some to take home to my boys. We found it, but everything I desired was in glass jars. The dratted airplane rules wouldn't allow taking home food stuffs in glass and so I poutily left. But it is never boring to wander down a Parisian street...

A dress embroidered with a chipmunk and a blue faux fur purse? Yes, please! The picture below refused to be photographed without horrible reflections, but it is a shop entirely of accessories. It is definitely not the only place where we saw gloves for sale, but this one had them in every hue. Delightful!

On hindsight, I could kick myself for not taking pictures of the windows of the clothing shops in our neighborhood. I DO NOT shop in department stores at home. The clothes styles are too modern for my tastes and the "colors of the season" are often ghastly. But in France, well, I could wear things from every window. And the displays are changed almost daily, so while you did see a lovely blue chambray dress with red belt and flats yesterday, today there is a leaf green cotton sundress with yellow sandals today. Everything was so classically designed and beautiful, that it was timeless in its appeal. Why can't we have clothing like that here? And when are we going to get the memo from the French to bring back Kelly green? While I'm questioning- where are our glove shops?? (very grumpy sigh)

It really was perfect that we went down that street while looking for my shop, because my eye was caught by a building with beautifully painted antique window glass. I looked up to find it was still an operating Patisserie! We walked in to find only one other customer inside. The prices were so good, and everything was so lovely, that I got a scad of things. When we exited, an entire line had formed behind us. We had gotten there just before the lunch rush! The shop is on 81 Rue des Rennes, if you are ever that way...and I will regale you with my delicious purchases later.

As we waked along charming streets, we saw St Sulpice church. If I ever return to Paris I will make an effort to go in all the churches I admired but passed by. 

But on this day we were headed for a very special church that I had been looking forward to, St Germain des Pres.

The outside may look a bit unimpressive compared to other churches we passed, but this is Paris's oldest church. It stands on the site where a Christian church has stood since the fall of Rome. The first church from the year 452 was destroyed in the Viking siege of 885-86. 

The last time it was built was 1163 when Notre Dame was just being started. 

Notre Dame was a wonderful experience (see Paris Trip- Tuesday  ) but it had the feeling of something grand and almost aloof in its massiveness. St Germain was my favorite church. Unlike Notre Dame, it is on a smaller, more personable scale. 

And it is still decorated in the medieval style with all walls, pillars, ceilings, painted in the mode of the day. (Notre Dame was like this in the beginning. But it was entirely whitewashed during a period when the paintings were considered idolatrous.) It is the painting here that made it feel so warm to me. It is cozy, every nook filled with a creature or saint.

St Germain felt like a living, breathing church, and had faithful around every corner, praying and lighting candles. There was one young man that I saw when we first came in, wearing a olive drab military jacket and sporting cropped hair. He was praying at a niche. As we slowly made our way around, I saw him again and again, lighting candles, kneeling, praying so fervently that the heartfelt pleas seemed to radiate off him in waves. He, or someone he loved, was in some kind of need and I was so moved by his intense devotion. I wanted to tell him that I would like to pray for him also, but I didn't have the words. The only French word I had to suit the situation was desole, which means "I'm sorry", and it would not have begun to convey my meaning. I still think about that man.

One of the alcoves held the statue of St Eugenie. She is the patron saint of Paris. She lived in the 5th century, when the Huns were sweeping through Europe conquering and destroying all in their path. The news came that the Huns were bent on Paris and people began to flee for their lives. Genevieve said that she would stay and pray and encouraged them to also. As she did so, the Huns turned away from the city for no apparent reason, and the people declared she had saved Paris by her prayers. She is obviously still an inspiration to young girls. As we walked by, a girl was seated inside the alcove with the statue, reading. As we passed, another went in to sit. Where in America would you be allowed to get that close to medieval art and statues, no velvet rope or guard, more or less be able to simply go up and sit beside them?

As we left, one of the last saints was St Antione. This statue was unusual in that it was graffitied. No where else did I see any form of vandalism/ graffiti/ damage to statues inside a building or on a street. This statue was covered with names, most in a very childish hand. Something about it and the way he held the small baby touched me and I put money into the box beneath him and lit a candle. The money went to renovating the church, which you can see has peeling paint in many of its beautiful paintings. And the candle was for a Dear Friend who is Catholic. Andrea looked it up later and found that St Antoine was the patron saint of the poor and sick. And even later it occurred to me that our street, the dear street we walked down every day and where we got bread and food and admired the shops...is Rue St Antoine! 

I really adored this church. If you have a chance to see any other cathedral besides Notre Dame, I would urge you to visit St Germain des Pres. I am obviously not the only American to be moved by the great building. A random search, to be certain that I was getting my dates correct, yielded a wonderful article about a group of Americans that are partnering with the French to restore St Germain, so that it may inspire for another thousand years- Americans Helping Save Paris's Oldest Church .

Remember on the very first day when I told you that when you ask people in Paris where they live they probably reply, "Oh, behind the big blue door with the dragon.." Well, here it is, and worth the wait too!

We took the metro back across the Seine to our little apartment and a wonderful lunch.

The sign under the exclamation point reads- trees leaning

 I ate the things that I bought at the dear little boulangerie. I had most of a bacon, cheese, and leek tart for real food. Then I went on to the important stuff. (The little brioche with almond cream and chocolate in the back was for the next morning's breakfast :)

The interesting brown globe is a Chocolat Bombe. It is two half spheres of crisp meringue sandwiched with chocolate ganache and then enrobed in chocolate glaze and shavings!

Then there was the Chaussons aux pommes, or apple turnover. I was expecting chopped fruit, but this was filled with a puree almost like applesauce. The thing that set the filling apart was the tartness of the apples. It was perfect with the simple, flaky crust. I'm thinking it would make a very nice breakfast.

 I also had a chocolate tart, and unlike the first, this did not disappoint! It was decadently rich with a crumbly shortcrust base.

Lastly, Andrea got a dessert! (I was so proud!:)

 It was an almond and pecan Florentine. 

It was delightful, somehow like a nut brittle but without the sharp crack. Yet it wasn't soft either...One of those perfectly executed things that is wonderful because you taste each of the few ingredients fully.

Then we went out wandering again, one of our favorite pastimes.  In fact, Andy and I could be described as professional flaneurs after our week in Paris. Flaneur is the French word for someone who strolls aimlessly, but enjoyably, observing their surroundings.

Not all our wandering were aimless, for we managed to make our way back to Rue St Paul. We visited that tiny street four times in five days, just to show how much we loved it. The picture above is of me talking to the shop owner in the store, E.W. He was such a kind man, and we had some wonderful discussions about antiques. His store is my idea of paradise! I got presents for both moma and pop there, and they were delighted with my choices. I only wish that I had room in my suitcase for the stack of transferware plates that I adored. I told you that I would do a full post on just Rue St Paul. When I do, I'll show you what Andrea and I got there, and also what we simply drooled on. The picture below is to whet your appetite. Just one small section of E.W.

I may have been disappointed that I couldn't get tinned pates when we were on the West Bank, but back on our dear street of St Antione I found a good selection to take home to my guys. To see a bit of what I brought home, look at A Parisian Dinner Alfresco

And, of course, we went past tons of windows displaying gorgeous foods. What we call "window shopping" in America has a much better name in French. It is called faire du leche-vitrines, and it means "window licking". Laugh if you will, but then check out the photos below. I wish I could have eaten one of every item in the case, but I only got two.

 We were on the hunt for something lovely for our supper as we went along the street. And right in front of us was a rotisserie filled with meats and little baskets of roasted potatoes. Andrea and I both got some succulent looking roast chicken and the creamy gratin potatoes. The man who served us was very jovial and loved correcting my French. Then he asked us, "You are... Australian?" We replied we were American. He shook his head with an incredulous look. "No. Americans are," and he made a large spherical shape with his hands. "You are," and he moved his hands up and down in a vertical line. "You do not eat the McDonald's, eh?" 

I agreed, definitely no McDonald's. "You do not eat much?" was his next question. "Sweets," I replied, smiling huge and nodding. "Ah, sweets," he nodded too, obviously approving. After that, when we passed on the street, he would wave. I have to say, he made very good food, even if it wasn't sweets ;).

This was an amazing cheese shop on our street. I think I have talked before about the smells of Paris. As you walk, the shops are open to the street. You could walk blindfolded and realize you were passing a bread shop, a cheese shop, a perfumery, a fish market. It is as much a treat for the nose as the eyes. Here the sign read, "Look and smell, but please don't touch." We went in and ogled the cheeses in all their glory. I am going to have to do a whole separate post of nothing but food pictures for you. It will be sweet torture, so you will need to eat something substantial beforehand. In this shop we got a tiny cheese sampler, so we could taste multiple kinds.

This is St Marie, the church at the end of our street, near to the Bastille. Isn't it interesting that it is very like our "beautiful building", the Church of St Paul-St Louis? Even the red paint looks identical so that they could be siblings...


It was such a long, lingering walk, with stops at food stores, book shops, a specialty housewares shop...But then it was back to the apartment to eat. Our chicken and potatoes were succulent, as was our selection of cheeses that came on their own little wooden cutting board. It also came with a special beurre, butter, that was delicious. The cheeses were very good, but all too strong for heavy eating. The package had them labeled and one was called Dent du Chat, tooth of the cat :).

 We ate the cheese and butter with our leftover bread and on this night I had tea!!! I may have mentioned how expensive drinks of any type are in France, and so I had been drinking water all week long. I am a sweet tea drinker by nature, and so it was slowly killing me. I went to the grocer and got a Lipton sweet tea for my supper, and a soda pop for Friday. It felt very reckless and decadent after all that healthy water!

Supper was delicious, but dessert was even better. One of my evening purchases was a citrus tart. Yes, I had one earlier in the week, but every single shop has a different type.

This one was a solid molding of lemon curd with a heart of tart currant jelly, all on a shortbread cookie. Lovely!

Dear Reader, meet the Cara. Perhaps you admired her in the window pictures above. This was amazing. A definite tie for 2nd favorite pastry in Paris. And oh, so beautiful...

It was topped with a profiterole filled with caramel creme, sitting on a ruffled chocolate collar, beneath which is a vanilla custard that tastes like cheesecake. This is filled with a soft caramel center on a light sponge base, then covered in a caramel glaze. Go back and read that again to make sure you got it all...

Do you see why I couldn't pass a patisserie window without buying something? I can't even think about all the ones that got away...

And so to bed, Dear Reader. The next day will be Friday, our last full day in Paris. Check back to see a wonderful marche de puces, or open air flea market,  more wandering, and a trip to the Louvre. Oh, so many good memories as I write that...

See you again soon, with more of Paris to share!


If you are just popping in, you might like to see more of our adventures in Paris...
Paris Trip- Monday  
Paris Trip- Tuesday 
Paris Trip- Wednesday