Well, oui, oui - vous attendez quoi?
Brent climbed to the second stage of la Tour Eiffel, and I sat firmly on the ground enjoying my time writing postcards!
According to Brent (and he took a photograph to prove it) it's 668 steps up the second stage. He considered climbing to the third ... but two stages should work off those baobabs! Some fabulous views were the reward for those 668 steps - even one of me writing my postcards!
After rest for the climber and lunch (and cigarette!), headed to Hotel des Invalides. Viewed with awe Napoleon's tomb, which is a baboushka of coffins - five successive coffins made of tin, mahogany, lead, lead again, ebony, all resting in a sarcophagus of red quartzite - taking pride of place in the Eglise du Dome. I can't explain the grandeur of these monuments - suffice to say that the dome is topped with a lantern measuring 101 metres in height!
The Hotel des Invalides includes a a musee de l'Armee housing antique armour and arms from the medieval to mid 17th century. The armour for the horses was a bit distressing and there were tiny suits of armour for the tiny princes who had to join in battle training sessions. There was a display of French classic cannons from the 17th century, which was interesting insofar as the ornate decoration of each and the fact that each cannon was individually named.
Hotel des Invalides was in the midst of preparations for the Pope's visit on Saturday (he's at Notre Dame on Friday) and we noticed grand prix like arrangements for "no parking", et cetera.
Walked and metro'd home via St-Germain des Pres. We pack our bags tonight for Florence and will be back in Paris on Monday night ... so the next blog will be un grand blog. Will leave you with images of parking in Paris and ladies who lunch avec chien!
4 comments:
Well worth the climb of 668 steps to see such fabulous views - and oh! those bridges, those wonderful bridges. Is le chien posing for your photograph? L&G
Those cars aren't parking, Sally. In the city of love even the cars like to get up close and check out each others exhausts. F, P, R.
Napoleon's tomb certainly puts my plans for Paul's internment in the shade. All I was going to do was dump him in a garbage bag, then wrap him up in gaffa tape and put him in a wheelie bin. After giving him a kick to check that he is really dead, I'll just leave him out on the nature strip - hopefully, it's green waste day and not the recycleables week. Now that he's gone, I don't want him coming back! Love from Thornbury, Melbourne, suburb of love.
Dear Aunty Sally, from past information you mention a special present for your favorite niece (ME)and now I see you writing a postcard ... from a photo that sneaky Brent took ... could that be a birthday card? I wonder ... remember, your trip to Paris is not about you, or Brent, but all about ME!!!!!!!!!!!!! Love Ruby (ME)
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