Day 6: France to Belgium

Day 7 began with a bang - literally.  We woke up to have a breakfast of meat, cheese, dried fruits, yogurt, croissants that would make you cry, and sugar cereal!  While we were eating breakfast we heard a roar over head and walked outside to see what was going on.  We saw this:

These were followed by fly overs from what seemed like ALL the aircraft in France's military.  It beat the Centerville parade fly over (if we get them)!  When we returned to the hotel we asked the receptionist why there were flyovers and she told us it was National Day in France.  Oh! Since we've returned home and told a few people we were in France on National Day, they say, "oh, really, July 14th?" Ummm, yup. Obviously we are uneducated twits.  But we appreciated being educated in Paris and National Day! 

National Day also meant that banks were closed. Yay. Stephen was nice enough to be our money exchange extrodinaire.  We gave him dollars, he gave us Euros.  We also supplied security detail while he retrieved euors from an ATM.

They apparently turned from security detail to crooks in a heart beat. Might want to change you pin number Steve.

Bastille square which served as our Metro reference point and a parade route!

The boys wanted to proceed to the catacombs, but how could we miss a parade in Paris on National Day?

The parade handler.

The parade sleepers.

 When the parade finally began, we had to be careful not to blink.  We are used to parades that proceed at 5 mph.  Apparently when the military is in charge of the parade, there is a schedule to keep and there shall be no variances.  They proceeded at about 40 mph down the street in full uniform, a few waves and no candy.

Mark thought these fireman helmets were interesting - all silver and all encompassing.

National Day also meant that the catacombs were closed.  Rats (and skulls).  The boys were disappointed because they read about the catacombs in a mystery novel they had read.  So we got the best picture of zombies we could. 

We regrouped at a nearby park where we found this statue.  Mark discovered a couple that was taking advantage of the city of Love, and wasn't going to take a picture, but I made him because it just seemed so iconic. 

Referring to our GPS/Mark, there was a cemetery nearby and we thought that would be interesting to see.  We were not disappointed.  It was a very large area with many beautiful mausoleum monuments for families. I looked up information on the cemetery later and found the name of it to be Montparnasse Cemetery, the southern cemetery in Paris before cemeteries were disallowed with in the city limits.  One of the comments on the webpage I looked up said, "Lovely graveyard. Would recommend others to be buried there." Ha.

James and I tried to find the oldest grave marker while we were there and we found this one that we thought said 1819. 

Cool building with mosaics down the side.

On our way to The Cathedral of Notre Dame this picture may have been taken after a gaggle of 12 year old girls boarded and kept peeking at Spencer.  Too bad I don't know how to speak French for eavesdropping.

Aren't these three boys just the most amazing things you have ever seen? Oh, and what's that in the background? 

We were in awe of the Cathedral of Notre Dame! We were also in awe at how organized the tourists were in forming and maintaining their own line into the Cathedral.  A miracle is a miracle, big or small.

The detail of this building is just amazing.  What a contrast in the time and patience it took to form all of these shapes and states to the lack of patience we have when our internet doesn't perform as quickly as we'd like.

Many Saints were honored with statues outside the cathedral.

Incredible artwork and craftsmanship abound throughout the cathedral displaying scenes from Christ's life and others from The Bible, as well as honored saints and priests.

 Construction on the cathedral began in 1163 and was completed in 1345. Though through the years, damages and wear took their course and there have been updates, additions and repairs since.

I always love to see the organs.

Did you know you could open a stained glass window to allow a breeze in?

This is a statue (but blurry picture) of Joan of Arc who was "burned alive as a heretic and a witch. The decision to rehabilitate her reputation was made in this Cathedral," according to the accompanying plaque.

Though they are not moving, these are not statues. They are thankfully quiet boys, ready to move on.

As we exited the cathedral, this statue of St. Denis bid us farewell.  It is said that after the martyr St. Denis was beheaded, he picked up his head and walked six miles, preaching a sermon along the way.  His actual point of death is now marked by a basilica.

Creperies on all sides.

Check out those flying buttresses!

After more walking to find a more vacant sidewalk cafe than the ones close to the cathedral. We opted to fill the boys with caffeine to help them through the rest of the day. They did not refuse and tried to put the bottles to musical use until we put the kibosh on that (what boring parents).  A few police cars and iconic sirens passed by and we noted how that just added to the feel in Paris.

Stephen and I order the same salad, with melty goat cheese deliciousness. It was so good that when I took a bite into it, I knew I needed to get a picture to remember it (as if my taste buds wouldn't). Stephen acquiesced to his crazy sister-in-laws request to borrow his untouched piece of toast so I could make a food memory. Yup, I'm crazy.

On our way to the Hotel de Ville, I took a sip from a woman's hands. Or, as some have pointed out, I spit into her hands. It's like a glass half empty/full situation.

The Hotel de Ville is political office buildings with statues of important political people all around.

Before we left Paris, we decided to walk into another cathedral, St. Paul, just because we could.

Our train ride to the Thalys station was uneventful until we exited the subway, when a man right next to us accused another man of taking his wallet.  I had made eye contact with the accused on the train and didn't think anything of him (boy was I a prime target for pick-pockets). The accused said he didn't do it, but the accuser persisted.  The accused started to walk away and as the accuser followed, the accused bolted up the stairs followed by the accuser yelling for the police.  That rattled us a bit and Spencer told me he felt very vulnerable.

On the way home, DJ offered to rub my feet if I would rub his. YES!  That lasted for a good 15 minutes before we could verify the feeling returning to our lower extremities.  We were successful in finding our car again and returning to the apartment in Oostende, Belgium. What a great, adventurous, fun side trip! My only regret was not having just one more Nutella crepe!