Day 28.5: The Bells, Bells, Bells, Bells, Bells of Notre-Daaaaaaame

Listening to: "The Bells of Notre Dame" from The Hunchback of Notre Dame

I was on a quest to find souvenirs for my dear friends, so I went to Saint-Michele, as I recalled tons of vendors. And I wasn't wrong! But I'm not spoiling any surprises. My mouth is zipped.

And since I was right across the street from the Cathedral... I had to go inside.

God, it's still beautiful in the daytime.

And the inside is even better.

Now, you guys (should) all know that I'm a heathen who would go to Hell if I believed, but being inside this cathedral moved me even more than being inside the walls of the Vatican. It felt so safe. But it was magnificent, beyond all expectations. I really understand that line "Fall on yours knees" from "O Holy Night." Because when you see this...

...you will want to fall on your knees.

But this isn't about me preaching to you. I pray only to Saint Francis Scott Fitzgerald. I can't place my finger on why this place impacted me so much. Inside the Vatican, I was moved, but I felt...nervous. Like, if they had known that I wasn't a Catholic, they might've thrown me out. (This was before the current pope.) Here, though, it was a cocoon of peace. I'm not explaining myself well. Let the pictures do it. With my irreverent commentary, though.

This is as close as you can get to the...pew? And rightfully so. There were actual people praying and lighting candles, and I can imagine they find us slightly annoying at best and complete demons at worst.

Stained glass was always my favorite part of churches.

This is a tableau featuring Jesus on the day of resurrection.

So much light.

In my stupidity, I found myself thinking, Did someone steal the coins from this wishing well? That seems like a sin. Then, someone dipped his hand in, and realization dawned: it was holy water. I mean, even when we went to church, I wasn't familiar with this practice. I went to a Catholic service with my foster sister in Boston, and her mother practically fainted when I didn't make the sign of the cross when the priest sprinkled some holy water on me. I wasn't even being irreverent then: I just had no idea why he was throwing water.

Here we have Saint Joan of Arc. The plaque next to her said that Notre Dame Cathedral was responsible for rehabilitating her image.

See, I'm peculiar, but I even find the areas under construction fascinating and beautiful. People always forget to look around corners, and they're really missing out.

Helping-hand figures.

And in the midst of all of this, the clock struck noon, and suddenly I heard this amplified voice reading in French. Picking out certain words, I realized it wasn't a recording: it was a real priest bishop reading to good devout Catholics who were attending the noontime service.

It was quite a sight to see.

Now, is it sacrilegious to take a picture of this? I just want you to see what I saw.

Anyway, there are other (not free) areas to visit: the Treasury and the Crypt. I was not able to visit the Crypt; I didn't have enough cash to visit the Crypt. The Treasury had the kind of stuff you see in museums. Getting into the room was slightly embarrassing, as I was digging around for coins, only to look up and see a line of _____ students behind me looking haughty. Oh, there's the American who doesn't care about wasting everyone's time. In my mind, I wanted to use an expletive, but I refrained in case some spirit was hovering above.

The Treasury had so many fabulous (in the most serious sense of the word), well, treasures. 

Hallway containing most of the treasures.

To my point about looking around corners: this cross was hidden around the right corner. You would totally miss it if you weren't inspecting carefully. Maybe the Cathedral maintenance people put these here as little Easter eggs (ha) for more observant tourists.

"The Lamp of the Cathedral," as the sign said.

Note: these sinks remind me of the ones that hide the Chamber of Secrets in Harry Potter. Well, inverted versions, but still.

I am including this picture, and I hope MATT and ZHANA are reading, because doesn't this speak to the gold leaf trivia we learned at the Pierpont Morgan Museum? Apparently, the less gold leaf, the better the artist. If a print has lots of gold, it's clear that the artist was poor and desperately trying to cover up his shoddy skills with flashy metals. I mean, it works on most people.

Now THAT'S a scepter.

Yes, I am angry I didn't bring my good camera as well. But hey--now I have an excuse to go back!

This probably isn't true, but... Is this trying to make a statement?

I'm not sure what this is, but it is incredible.

Texts from the Ancien Régime period of French History.

Now yesterday's "headless" comments are going to come back and bite me in the...gluteus maximus.

Now, I agree that these look great, but aren't these like the goblets you're not supposed to choose when Indiana Jones reaches the Grail Room? Where's the humble grail? Is it possible George Lucas and Steven Spielberg are sending us the better message??? I don't know how I feel about that.

There are a lot of pictures of the pope here, which, you know, makes sense.

Now if my Bible had looked like this, I might have read it.

Sorry about the multiple pictures. I got a little--a lot--carried away.

I guess I felt like Esmerelda when she sings "God Help the Outcasts." 

Bonus Round!

(By the way, Hunchback of Notre Dame is actually a terrifying movie--for anybody, really, but especially for children. How did I watch that "Hellfire" song without never going to bed again? NOTE: Watch video at your own peril.)

I'm on about the fifth round of playing "The Bells of Notre Dame."

And there was a real man confessing to a priest/bishop(?) inside. But I don't take pictures of poor, unsuspecting souls (intentionally) like _____ tourists.

Request for my dear mother: can you post that picture of me and Quasimodo? I know I look slightly terrified, but I want to see it.

And bonus for my mom, but also for lots of others:

I mean, it doesn't surprise me that these Christmas signs are still up. The Cathedral also had a sign that said "Merry Christmas."

And for Grandpa...

You have a kindred spirit, to the left. Despite the sign below, he appears to love the birds (and not just their necks, Alyssa).