Chapter Ten: A Paris Quickie, And Thank Heavens The Restaurant Is Pretty
January 29, 2025
Chapter Twelve: Inside Paris City Hall & A Sea of Sculptures
February 28, 2025Mai Tai Tom Stays On Track Through Belgium, Paris and Strasbourg
Chapter Eleven: Montmartre & Walking Through Paris History
Day Eleven – You Can Take Photos Now, In The Pink, Losing His Head, Hitting The Wall, A Delicious Find, Lunch … It’s What’s For Breakfast, It’s Back!, A Raucous Ride, History In The Making, Chillin’ In The Courtyard, Signals Crossed, Who Needs A Sauna?, Are You Stanley Tucci?, Another Marine and An Alarming Development!
A good night’s sleep with no coughing, followed by a 15-minute métro ride to the 18th arrondissement, and soon we were staring up the steep steps to the Basilique du Sacré-Cœur de Montmartre and searching for the funicular. 
Located at the foot of the basilica is Carrousel de Saint-Pierre, which was built in 1879. It’s been quite a few years since my motto of “a thousand steps a day,” so we rode that bad boy funicular to the top, which was installed in 1900.
What a difference a decade makes. The last time we were here, there was a very long line to enter the basilica, which wound very slowly once we stepped inside. On this day, there was a relatively short line, and the crowd inside could accurately be described as sparse.
Similar to the Madeleine a couple of days previously, the inside of Sacré-Cœur seemed much more vivid, and you no longer have to be a scofflaw and sneak photos with your phone or camera as they allow photography.
It’s hard to miss one of the largest mosaics in the world. The Christ in Majesty mosaic was created in 1923. Christ is surrounded by an assortment of saints including Joan of Arc and Michael, plus the Virgin Mary and Pope Leo III.
Construction of the basilica was started in the 1870s and finally completed 1914, but it was not consecrated until 1919, after the end of World War I.
The first chapel we saw upon entering was Chapelle Notre-Dame De La Mer, which is also the Chapel of the Navy. It includes an “authentic reproduction of Our Lady of Guadalupe.”
Up next was the Chapel of the Queens of France topped by the statue of Saint Radegund, the 6th century Queen of the Franks. I assume when she became queen, she said, “Hot dog!”
There are many angles from which you can take a photo of the humongous mosaic.
The Chapel of Saint Vincent De Paul …
… was followed by the sculpture of the Virgin and Child …
… and the Chapel of Saint Ignatius of Loyola, which features yet another beautiful mosaic, was created in the mid 1930s.
Another stunning mosaic is located in the Chapel of the Virgin Mary which depicts The Assumption.
As we neared the end of our visit, we saw the Chapel of Saint Louis.
And finally, it was the Chapel of Saint Michael & Jeanne d’Arc.
We started strolling (it’s funny how we only stroll while traveling) around Montmartre, with its colorful flowers and street art.
I told the group I had read about Chateau d’eau Montmartre, which is different than any chateau we had ever seen. This water tower was built in 1927 to supply the houses on hilly Montmartre and is still in use.
The streets of Montmartre were fairly quiet on a Friday morning.
On the corner of rue de l’ Abreuvoir and rue des Saules sits La Maison Rose, a restaurant that opened in 1906, attracting guests such as Picasso and Albert Camus. It also served as a boarding house, where many artists lived for a while, including Vincent Van Gogh. If this building looks familiar, then you must be an Emily In Paris fan, because Emily and Mindy have dined here.
Montmartre even has a vineyard, and although Vigne du Clos Montmartre was closed, we gave it a quick look through the gates.
It opens for a few days in October for the Fête des Vendanges.
Life is a cabaret my friends, and Au Lapin Agile is a famous one. It’s been around since 1860 when it was named Au rendez-vous des voleurs (Where the Thieves Meet). According to my buddies at Wikipedia, “The place became known as the Cabaret des Assassins. Tradition relates that the cabaret received this name because a band of gangsters broke in and killed the owner’s son in a robbery attempt.” It changed names yet again at the turn of the 20th century.
Picasso’s painting entitled Au Agile Lapin (At the Lapin Agile) really put the cabaret on the map. He and Renoir along with other famous artists spent time here.
We sometimes felt like we were being watched like a hawk. So much so, Kim and Mary decided to go grab a cup of coffee.
Square Suzanne-Buisson loomed on the horizon where we came upon a familiar face (actually head) at a nearby fountain. When we visited Basilique Cathédrale Saint-Denis in 2014, we learned of the story of Denis, who had his head lopped off in Montmartre in the third century. But he’s not a saint for nothing. He calmly picked up his head (not an easy task in itself), and after stopping at a fountain to wash it, walked to the spot where the basilica was built (stories vary on how far he walked, but since he was holding his head, any distance is impressive). The basilica now houses 70 sculpted tombs of the kings of France. This 80-year-old fountain’s motto is, “Girl who drink the Fountain Saint Denis, remains faithful to her husband.” I told Tracy to take a few gulps. She gave me the “look.” I really thought I could make it through this trip without seeing that.
Not too far from the headless saint is a guy who just couldn’t walk any further. That’s because he’s stuck in the wall in Place Marcel Aymé.
Le Passe-Muraille features a character from a 1943 French short story (Aymé is the author) who, after a series of escapades, which included walking through walls, tried it one last time. As Maxwell Smart would say, “Missed it by that much.” The character was immortalized in bronze by French actor and sculptor Jean Marais in 1989.
Very hungry after the previous day’s dearth of food, we stopped near the top of Butte Montmartre at a little place with delectable looking fresh pastries called Armande (26 Rue Tholozé), ostensibly to just grab a quick pastry and coffee. We would find out this relatively new addition (it opened in spring of 2024) offers much, much more. The caterer-restaurant-pâtisserie is owned by two friends who both had food experience before opening this place.(review of Armande)
Mon Dieu! All of a sudden we were having breakfast, lunch and dessert (not necessarily in that order). Everything was fantastic, and the cheerful proprietor brought out dish after dish explaining each one to us.
Tracy ordered the salad of braised lettuce with roasted tomatoes, goat cheese & olives, and she still had room for the tortilla filled with potatoes and onions. Delicious!
I went a different route, starting with a dessert of caramel cake. Unbelievable!
As I was finishing up my cake, the proprietor brought out a carrot gnocchi with parsley pesto that we just had to taste. It was amazing as Tracy and I shared a plate. 
All the dishes looked delicious.
We continued down the rue, and for some reason turned around and realized that we had somehow missed the Moulin de la Galette, the last two surviving windmills in Paris: Moulin Radet and Moulin de Blute-Fin.
We decided not to go back, but fortunately Kim and Mary got a photo of one of them.
Meanwhile, Tracy and I continued to burn off our breakfast/lunch calories by walking down rue Tholozé where we came upon Le Petit Moulin, which is now a restaurant, but was once the lodging for Vincent van Gogh and his brother, Theo, in the mid 1880s.
There is no stopping Tracy’s floral habit.
Geez, everyone is looking at us.
Wait, there would be another windmill in Montmartre we can-can see. The Moulin Rouge, dating back to the late 1800s is where the famous dance would be forever etched in the hearts of many thanks to the paintings by Toulouse-Lautrec. The blades fell off the famed red windmill in April of 2024 but by July, they were back.
The Moulin Rouge had many a bawdy act back in the day. My favorite story is of a performer named Le Pétomane, who starred here in 1892. One of his claims to fame was that he could fart anytime he wanted (some people say he stunk). My favorite comedy of all-time is Mel Brooks’ acclaimed Blazing Saddles. One of the characters he plays in the movie is Governor William J. Le Pétomane. Harrumph!
We were momentarily homesick when we saw this corgi. Back at home, Garbo was undoubtedly sulking.
We took a long metro ride full of kids and a guy playing some guitar to reach our next destination. Walking by this restaurant, I was sad to see they had misspelled MaiTai.
Speaking of Garbo, who was worrying where we’d been for the past 10 days, we passed by a store that literally had her name on it.
We admired some fun street art …
… on the way to the Musée Carnavalet (23 Rue de Sévigné), where we were greeted by Louis XIV. Its cool collection of Parisian history is housed inside two 17th century mansions, Hôtel Le Peletier de St-Fargeau and l’hôtel Carnavalet. The statue is located in the later’s cour d’honneur.
I’m pretty sure we visited this museum on one of our previous trips to Paris, but one of the good things about getting old is I don’t remember it. Don’t worry, I’ll only mention a few of the 3,800 items on display,
We explored an area with signs of days gone by. Au chat qui dort (The Sleeping Cat) was an 18th century sign from a rue de Mouffetard wine merchant.
There were a number of interesting signs.
The Lescot apothecary was donated to the museum in 1914. Hôtel Carnavalet, while a staircase caught our eye.
A new oak door was installed in the Town Hall in 1652 complete with Medusa heads. I was imagining ELO’s Turn To Stone while looking at it. 
She looks like a Kansas City Chiefs fan after the 2025 Super Bowl debacle.
Before we could really get a start on exploring the museum, we exited through another door, this one leading to a flower filled courtyard. It was a gorgeous day, and a table in the garden beckoned us. 
For the next half hour or so, we decided to take a load off and enjoy sipping a couple of glasses of wine while basking in the sunlight.
Back inside, we took a look at the Olympic and Paralympic torches that were used in 2024.
The large vase and poster harkens back to the 1924 games.
It was time to go back in time. Historic paintings were on display …
… complete with tidbits from Parisian history.
Hey, we were here (Porte Saint-Denis) last night.
The intricate woodwork and …
… ceiling of the cabinet of the Hôtel Colbert de Villacerf was on display.
In the next room a painting of Louise Françoise de Bourbon from the late 1600s. She was the eldest legitimized surviving daughter of Louis XIV.
People have asked why so many of the ceiling photos throughout the years were taken by Tracy. Ask no more. Thankfully I didn’t fall backward or I might have had to return home in the cargo hold.
Tracy’s photo of the 17th-century ceiling of one of the salons of the Hôtel La Rivière, a mansion from the Places des Vosges, was taken with much less effort.
A quick look outside to the flower filled courtyard, and we proceeded.
The 1765 The Salon Demarteau by François Bouche …
… depicts “an idyllic countryside.”
Another 17th century ceiling caught Tracy’s camera.
Portraits of Marie de Médicis (what’s that on her head?) and Louis XVI.
Lafayette, we are here! Jacque-Louis David’s painting of The Oath of Lafayette at the Festival of the Federation, July 14, 1790, popped. A fun fact I never knew: The boy in the painting is his son, who he named Georges Washington Motier de Lafayette.
We lost our heads looking at Marie-Antionette being led out of the Conciergerie before her guillotining, and the official Order for the Execution of Louis XVI.
Portrait of Napoleon and the Procession of King Louis-David-Philippe and his troops unveiling Napoleon’s statue at Place Vendôme led us through another chapter of the city’s history.
In 1870, France’s Ministry of War took flight in a balloon from Montmartre in an attempt to regain control of Paris from the Germans.
Life in the early 20th century turned more to social life with paintings depicting the era.
Next was something truly fascinating. We stepped inside a jewelry boutique from the turn-of-the (20th) century, complete with its unique façade.
Czech Art Nouveau artist Alphonse Mucha collaborated with jeweler Georges Fouquet to design this mini-masterpiece. We love art nouveau. From the Mucha Foundation, “Mucha’s designs remained in place until 1923 when it was replaced with more up-to-date fittings. In 1941, Fouquet gave each piece of Mucha’s revolutionary design to the Musée Carnavalet for safekeeping. In 1989, the Musée Carnavalet completed the painstaking job of reconstructing the boutique. It remains one of the most spectacular examples of Art Nouveau decorative design.”
Before leaving we admired a painting of Le Pigall’s, a popular dance venue in the Roaring 20s.
Afterward, I took a seat next to a device I hope I never need to use on vacation (or anytime for that matter).
Musée Carnavalet has undergone renovations in the past 10 years, and I don’t want to harp on it, but we really love this place.
We hopped on the metro for the short ride back to our hotel … well, maybe not so short. The car was fairly packed so I took a seat next to a well-dressed gentleman. The doors closed. Then the doors opened, and then closed, and then opened, and then they closed for about 15-20 minutes.
It was really hot, and with the doors opening so often letting on passengers, we were packed in like a can of Portuguese sardines. I looked at the gentleman next to me to ask if he knew what was going on. It was at this point, I realized I was sitting next to Stanley Tucci’s doppelganger. He calmly told me there was something wrong with the switches.
Finally, we were on our way; but only for about a minute. Now we were stopped inside the tunnel. I’m not real claustrophobic, but as I get older I am a little bit more. We started and stopped a few times, but soon we were moving, although the train just crept forward à pas d’escargot with the horn tooting, I guess, to make sure there wasn’t a train headed for us. We moved at regular speed, I stood up, and, as you can see, I was very happy to be finally moving. Even Stanley Tucci was looking a little more relaxed.
Arriving safely back at the hotel, I was looking forward to what would hopefully be our second good meal of the day. The four us departed for the Canal Saint-Martin, where we had 8 p.m. reservations at La Marine. Along the way was this very colorful street art.
We arrived at La Marine (review here) before our reservation time …
… and checked out the canal area, which was crowded with young people (except us) on a Friday evening.
Soon we heard footsteps approaching. It was a group of runners headed toward us (sort of). The sign read Midnight Runners. Although the sign didn’t include “Dexy’s,” I’m almost sure I heard someone yell out, “Come on Eileen!”
La Marine oozed with the Parisian vibe that had been lacking the past few days. Cozy and traditional with a cool atmosphere, this is what people love about being in Paris.
It was one of the warmest nights of our entire trip, and the outside tables were jammed with people enjoying the evening.
Dinner was quite delicious starting with Tracy’s traditional French onion soup and cannoli stuffed with spinach and ricotta.
Kim and Mary thoroughly enjoyed their starter of Beignets de gambas, sauce aigre douce (prawn fritters with sweet and sour sauce).
For their main course, Kim opted for the chicken with mushrooms and mashed potatoes, while Mary had the duck with polenta.
I finished my delicious Beef Bourguignon, and because I was looking forward to dessert, I eschewed a starter.
It’s at this juncture of the meal, I have an after-the-fact point of contention with my dining partners. While the others feigned fullness, I ordered the dessert I had been saving room for. But once my brioche French toast with ice cream landed on the table, all of a sudden my supposedly full companions proceeded to tear into the French toast with reckless abandon. I managed only a few a few bites before the dessert disappeared. That’s how I remember it, and I’m sticking to my story.
All in all, a great night (except for the dessert thievery), and back at the hotel I learned we needed timed reservations to see the interior of Paris’ city hall (Hôtel de Ville) the following day during Journées du Patrimoine weekend (more on that tomorrow). I had requested an early time, but the best timed ticket they could get for me was 12:30 (foreshadowing).
It was now off to the land of sleep, so we could be fresh and ready to roll on our last day in Paris. Our deep sleep lasted only about 2 1/2 hours. Sometime in the middle of the night, Tracy and I were awakened by a shrill alarm. You know those moments while traveling, when you wake up suddenly, and you don’t know where the hell you are (no, it wasn’t the wine)? In what I now call the “Stupid Minute,” Tracy and I scrambled around trying to find the alarm that was making this incessant noise.
Then we came to our senses to the frightening realization that this was the hotel’s fire alarm. We grabbed our shoes, phones and passports, and as we exited the room, we realized that the only way down from our fourth floor room was a narrow, circular staircase (photos from next day. Even we don’t risk our lives taking photos in an emergency).
Sniffing the air for smoke and feeling our way down the stairs, we ran into other perplexed guests also exiting their rooms. They asked, “Is there a fire?” I hoped not. After winding our way to the lobby, we joined the other pajama-clad guests hanging out in the lobby and in the street. My first thought: People have a weird variety of pajamas.
We found Kim and Mary, who had been on the first (second) floor. Mary saw us panting from our long walk down, and asked, “Why didn’t you take the elevator?” Obviously, Mary never saw The Towering Inferno.
A few minutes later, the hotel manager shut off the alarm and told the group of now wide awake people that a guest had mistaken the alarm for a light switch. Our sleuth Mary, however, said she heard loud laughing in the moments preceding the alarm. As for the alarm, had there been a fire and with our dilly-dallying, Kim and Mary would have had to write this.
Back to bed, and in just a few hours we would head out for our last day in Paris. We’d start out with a fruitless attempt to find breakfast near the Place des Vosges, attend a baptism, take in the grandeur of the Hôtel de Ville, grab some food/wine near the Eiffel Tower, and witness some monumental sculptures in a museum I had never heard of before, but which turned out to be a wonderful surprise.
Unfortunately, the president of France interferred with our plans to tour the final site of the day, but we did end our five nights in Paris with yet another excellent meal thanks to a chef from Abruzzo.
Oh yeah, Kim and I were nearly killed by a métro car. All in a day’s travel.
Chapter Twelve: Inside City Hall & A Sea of Sculptures
Day Twelve: No Place For Breakfast, Oh Baby!, This Is Some Hôtel, Psychedelic Ceiling, Trocadero Time, Patrimoine on Patrimoine, Macron’s Prime Reason, Watch Out For That Door and After Further Review, We Will Return
