Misty Cruise
Looking west on a cold, wet morning.
Looking west on a cold, wet morning.
Were the icons atop the church inspiration for Rodin, just a few blocks away?
Gargoyle sculptures atop Notre Dame.
The square in front of Notre Dame, home to France’s Kilometre Zero, just after the rain stopped.
Just one (bundled) person braves the January cold of the uncovered portion of the tour boat.
One of the Bouquinistes at his stall. Since the 1500’s, these sellers of antique and used books (and more) have lined the bridges and quays of the Seine. They’re particularly prolific around Notre Dame.
Looking west at Notre Dame from Île Saint-Louis, one of the two islands in the Seine.
Looking down on the city from Notre Dame.
A sculpture looks to the southwest from its perch atop Notre Dame.
June 24th had slipped my mind. Across France, towns explode with the sound of music in the streets. And there are few accordions to be found. Last year on this date, I was in the southern town of Perpignan, where stages dotted block after city block, filling the city with rock, rap, jazz and curious performances best classified as “Noise.” But throughout Paris’ Latin Quarter this year, straight-ahead rock rules the day. Indie kids bang out Police covers with mangled English lyrics, others offer rambling guitar scenes conjuring the best and worst of Jerry Garcia and on other stages, serious, extended riff sessions abound, transcending all the languages spoken in the audience: everyone present understands loud. Including those of us lucky to have a hotel window within earshot of a stage. Or three stages