From Birmingham, we headed south and east toward the white cliffs of Dover, where we embarked via ferry for the Continent and the remainder of our six-week trip.
We crossed the Channel . . .
 |
| L to R: Chris, Judy, Hank, Susan, Bill |
. . . landed at Ostend, and immediately set out for Brussels, and a day later drove from Brussels to Paris, arriving the day after Bastille Day. Reviewing stand bleachers were still in place along the Champs-Élysées.
Instead of lodging in a youth hostel with large communal sleeping areas, in Paris we had the luxury of small individual rooms (but no private baths) in a pensión near the Place de la Bastille, complete with a birdcage elevator that would barely accommodate two people . . . or just one with luggage!
In Paris, you're never far away from a wonderful small bakery, so Tom would make a breakfast run every day, and we indulged in fresh bread, croissants, butter, and jam. I don't remember many meals on the trip, but those breakfasts were great. And I must say that at dinner in a very nice restaurant on the Champs-Élysées I had the best French fries I had ever tasted.
We made all the mandatory tourist stops. Here are a couple of photos of me for the record:
(Yes, that's the tie I bought at Hawkes & Co. in London. But now I'm wearing a jacket instead of the sports coat that was stolen in Birmingham.)
At the Louvre, we had fairly close-up access to the Mona Lisa: no timed tickets or hordes of viewers when we were there. And for an art form at the opposite end of the cultural spectrum, after a group discussion about appropriateness for minors and everyone's comfort level about seeing female nudity, our group voted to go to the Folies Bergère. We were definitely not in Oklahoma (or Kansas) anymore, Toto.
As enjoyable as Paris was, it was easy to get overloaded with art, architecture, history, food, and the sheer energy of the city. But there's one place . . . and one moment . . . that stands out in my memory of Paris.
The Eiffel Tower is the graceful, soaring, iconic landmark on all the travel posters. But the Arc de Triomphe, commanding the western end of the Champs-Élysées, has the gravitas of war, remembrance, and national pride.
 |
| August 25, 1944 Photo courtesy of Imperial War Museum |
 |
| August 29, 1944 Photo by Jack Downey, U.S. Office of War Information |
 |
| A rare absence of traffic on the Champs-Élysées Mid-July, 1966 |
We approached the Place de l'Étoile (renamed Place Charles de Gaulle after his death in 1970) from the southeast on Avenue Marceau.
 |
| Notice the big Chevrolet Impala on the right! |
A few of us were crazy enough to cross through the traffic in the circle. (I can't find the photo I took from the middle of the street, but I remember the terror; what was I thinking?? Yeah, I was sixteen.) We went up to the roof and got great views of the city.
 |
| Looking east at the Champs-Élysées |
Completed in 1836, the Arc de Triomphe is also the location of France's Tomb of the Unknown Soldier from World War I, marked by an Eternal Flame. France had about 1.4 million military deaths and 4.2 million wounded in World War I, compared to approximately 117,000 deaths and 204,000 wounded from the United States, so honoring the War dead was (and still is) a major national commitment for the entire country.
The flame was first lit on November 11, 1923, five years after the end of the War. Since then it has been rekindled every evening at dusk, even during the Nazi occupation in World War II, with a ceremony organized by the Flame Committee under the Arc de Triomphe, Flame of the Nation. Over 500 organizations from all over France are members of the Committee.
We were fortunate to be there at the ceremony one evening. At 6:30, everything around the Arc stopped (including traffic), and the area beneath the vault of the Arc was cleared (except for that pigeon), with gemdarmes stationed in front of the crowd every few feet. No barriers, no ropes . . . just respect.
Then the organization responsible for that day's ceremony assembled in the traffic circle and marched forward with a wreath.
I am still puzzled by the flag the group carried. It's not a national flag of any country that I know. Perhaps it's an organization or regional flag.
Nevertheless, it was a very solemn and meaningful ceremony, and we were privileged to be there to witness it.
No comments:
Post a Comment