On the eighth day of Paris, my true love gave to me….just kidding. But you already knew that.
Well, my family and I went to the Sacré-Cœur, a church that sits on the highest point in France.
It was a nice trek up, but we had to avoid all the money. In Paris, at all the famous landmarks, people are always trying to get money off of tourists with varying schemes, including women who ask you to sign a generic petition and then demand a donation. No matter what, you have to avoid eye contact with them. If you give them a split-second glance, they will latch onto you and make it very difficult to walk away. The guy at the Sacré-Cœur grabbed my arm, and I tried to be polite but I finally had to just wrangle myself away.
Anyway, back to the basilica. According to Wikipedia, the Sacré-Cœur “is located at the summit of the butte Montmartre, the highest point in the city”:
I wonder how many people bring pot here just to say, “Look, I got high at the highest point in the city.”
More pictures are below. But first, let me take a selfie:
I don’t know what it is about my brother, but almost every photo I ask him to take of me comes out slightly crooked. Maybe after this vacation, I’ll take the time out to straighten them all on Photoshop, but for now, they’ll be crooked:
OK this is a bit better:
We then went inside the amazing, beautiful church. But cameras weren’t allowed in there, so here are some random, ugly pictures of the outside:
You could also pay some Euros to climb to the top, and go through all the old hidden, creepy passageways. I didn’t this time, but here are some photos of Bénédicte and me in 2008 making that journey. So many stairs and such narrow spaces, one of the most claustrophobic experiences of my life:
OK, now back to the present. Up on the hill there were the typical gift shops
but there was also a big fair with artists hawking their services and wares:
Oh look, another Asian bride and groom in Paris. I’m no master of body language but I think the bride is saying “Stop looking at the camera. Get the fuck over here and bring me my shoes!”
We then went inside a fancy chocolate shop. Oh look, the Notre Dame cathedral made entirely of chocolate:
As a bonus, here are a couple of signs around town:
If you’re going to advertise a class teaching English, you should make sure to use proper grammar, yes?
And this gross sign below, ugh. It gives the impression that American = white and that it’s something to aspire to. This is why people abroad often ask me (non-verbatim), “What, how can you be American? You don’t look like a WASP.”