Montmartre means "the mount of the martyr", in this case refering to St Denis. The story goes that he was assassinated on this hill of Paris. Being a Type-A kind of guy, Denis picked up his shorn-off head and kept on walking another five miles or so to expire at the place now called St-Denis. When you look at French churches, if you spy a statue of a saint with his head tucked under his arm, you'll know who it is.

Guess who? This one is at St-Germain-l'Auxerrois Church.

The walk Mum and I did was about 6 miles, but we had the advantage of attached heads. The three-mile Promenade Plantée is a begardened walking path built on an old railroad viaduct. It was in full bloom yesterday, with roses headlining. There were water features and trees that attracted every species of bird in the city, and lovely examples of Corbusier-inspired architecture.

The Promenade goes almost to the Bois de Vincennes, so the greenery continued as we walked Avenue Daumesnil till we came to the back of Château de Vincennes. We got a good look at how deep the walls were as we walked beside the keep to the front yard, across the little drawbridge, and onto the complex. On our snoop through the keep, we learned that the kings of the time often had prisoners in their own fortified residences, since it was the monarch's duty to administer justice. Charles V was the first king to live here (d. 1380), and Louis XIV was the last. Having been to the little cottage the Sun King built for himself at Versailles, I could see that Vincennes was SO not his scene!

The big thrill of the castle, though, was when Mum and I entered a little room tucked in one corner. Mum said, "What's this room?" and then saw the sign: Latrines de Charles V. We had missed the chance to visit the Sewer Museum, but no matter: Mum can now tell all her friends and neighbours that she sat on a medieval king's throne!

Everyone met back at the apartment for supper, and then headed for the metro to reach the St-Denis Basilica in time for the concert. The nave was packed with spectators, but I had booked the tickets early: we were in the fourth and fifth rows. There we were, listening to Sir John Eliot Gardiner conducting the Monteverdi Choir and the Orchestre Nationale de France: the crashing Et Exspecto Resurrectionem Mortuorum of Messiaen; two sweet, haunting motets by Francis Poulenc; and Maurice Duruflé's Requiem. Paragraph ends here. No words can describe. Something like "I can die happy now" approaches it, though.

Epilogue: Mommy's Home -- by Cai

Bark? Bark! Bark bark!

Barkbarkbarkbark! Bark! Barkbark! Barkdebarkbark!

Barkdiddlywoofwoof-woohoo-debarkleywoof-yippeebarkhappyhappybarkbark!

A quelques stations de métro, en plein Paris se trouve le dernier château-fort d'Europe! Le Château de Vincennes est un impressionnant petit château-fort, avec un fier donjon, qui a traversé les siècles, les guerres et les époques culturelles, a subi des aménagements multiples, et vient à peine de réouvrir ses portes. Ne loupez pas ce petit bijou d'histoire de France, ni son guide volubile et ses histoires croustillantes!

Le questionnaire est disponible ici ou sur la page Muséexpos!

When you exit the metro, the castle rears up in front of you. It is a surreal experience to walk up the metro stairs and be faced with a medieval castle. The building is a patchwork of construction dating back to the 12th century. It has a 12th century keep, a 14th century wall and moat around that, and then several buildings added by Louis the Umpteenth. We walked through and took some pictures of the spectacular cathedral. Unfortunately the pictures we took are not nearly as spectacular as the actual site; it was difficult to capture the effect of the sunlight streaming through the stained glass windows on both sides.

Upon exiting the far side of the castle, we wandered into the Parc Floral de Paris. Normally there is a charge to visit this botanical garden, but the booths were empty and the gates open, so we walked right in. The park had an interesting layout, with an aquatic garden, an ampitheater, several small restaurants, two bonsai pavillions, a playground, and a few more traditional arrangements of flowers grown in neatly tended beds. I particularly enjoyed the bonsai area and several beds of wildly blooming flowers whose name I unfortunately do not recall.

After the Parc Floral (once we found our way out!), we walked on a wooded (but paved) bike path towards a lake in the Bois de Vincennes. At the lake, we responded to our growling stomachs with "saucisse frites" which roughly translates to "two floppy hot dogs sitting on top of an order of fries." We also enjoyed a Coca Cola, for just 2 euros and 50 centimes. For those of you quick with the math, you've already figured out that this is about $3.50 for a can of coke. (A CAN.) We shared.

The lake sported a black swan, several peaceful ducks and geese, the one overpriced food stand (but it's all overpriced when you're converting from dollars), and rental rowboats. We had been walking for several hours by this point and weren't up to renting a rowboat but may return in the future. We took another wooded path back to the metro, looking out for bikers, and headed home. I wouldn't necessarily recommend this as a tourist excursion, but as a lazy Sunday afternoon walk, it was very nice.