Ile de la Cité and the Latin Quarter
Paris has been the cultural capital of Europe for centuries. We’ll start where it did, on Ile de la Cité, with a foray onto the Left Bank, on a walk that laces together 80 generations of history—from Celtic fishing village to Roman city, bustling medieval capital, birthplace of the Revolution, bohemian haunt of the 1920s café scene, and the working world of modern Paris. Along the way, we’ll step into two of Paris’ greatest sights—Notre-Dame and Sainte-Chapelle.
(See “Historic Paris Walk” map, here.)
Length of This Walk: Allow four hours to do justice to this three-mile walk.
Paris Museum Pass: Several sights on this walk that charge admission are covered by the time- and money-saving Museum Pass (see here for details). On Ile de la Cité, you can buy a pass at the tourist-friendly tabac/souvenir store (5 Boulevard du Palais) across the street from the Sainte-Chapelle entrance.
Notre-Dame: Cathedral—free, Mon-Sat 7:45-18:45, Sun 7:15-19:15; Treasury—€5, not covered by Museum Pass, Mon-Fri 9:30-18:00, Sat 9:30-18:30, Sun 13:30-18:40; audioguide—€5, free English tours—normally Mon, Tue, and Sat at 14:30, Wed and Thu at 14:00.
The cathedral hosts Mass several times daily (early morning, noon, evening), plus Vespers at 17:45. The international Mass is held Sun at 11:30. The Crown of Thorns is venerated with a service every first Fri at 15:00. Call or check the website for a full schedule (Mo: Cité, Hôtel de Ville, or St. Michel; tel. 01 42 34 56 10, www.notredamedeparis.fr).
The entrance for Notre-Dame’s tower climb is outside the cathedral, along the left side. You can hike to the top of the facade between the towers and then to the top of the south tower (400 steps total) for a gargoyle’s-eye view of the cathedral, Seine, and city (€10, covered by Museum Pass but no bypass line for passholders; daily April-Sept 10:00-18:30, Fri-Sat until 23:00 in July-Aug, Oct-March 10:00-17:30, last entry 45 minutes before closing; to avoid the worst lines arrive before 10:00 or after 17:00—after 16:00 in winter; tel. 01 53 10 07 00, www.tours-notre-dame-de-paris.fr).
In summer, sound-and-light displays about the history of the church generally run twice a week (free, in French with English subtitles, usually Thu and Sat at 21:00, but schedule varies—check cathedral website or call).
Paris Archaeological Crypt: €7, covered by Museum Pass, Tue-Sun 10:00-18:00, closed Mon, enter 100 yards in front of the cathedral, tel. 01 55 42 50 10, www.crypte.paris.fr.
Deportation Memorial: Free, Tue-Sun 10:00-19:00, Oct-March until 17:00, closed Mon year-round, may randomly close at other times, free but boring audioguide, Mo: Cité, tel. 01 46 33 87 56.
Shakespeare and Company Bookstore: Daily 10:00-23:00, 37 Rue de la Bûcherie, across the river from Notre-Dame, Mo: St. Michel, tel. 01 43 25 40 93.
Sainte-Chapelle: €8.50, €13.50 combo-ticket with Conciergerie, free for those under age 18, covered by Museum Pass; daily March-Oct 9:30-18:00, Wed until 21:30 mid-May-mid-Sept, Nov-Feb 9:00-17:00; audioguide-€4.50 (€6 for two), frequent evening concerts—see here, 4 Boulevard du Palais, Mo: Cité, tel. 01 53 40 60 80, www.sainte-chapelle.fr.
Expect long lines to get in. First comes the security line (all sharp objects and glass are confiscated). No one can skip this line. It can be frustrating, but it’s just the way it is. Security lines are shortest first thing (be in line by 9:15, or arrive at 10:00 after the first rush subsides), and on weekends (when the courts are closed). They’re longest on Tue and any day around 13:00-14:00 (when staff takes lunch). Once past security, you’ll encounter the ticket-buying line—those with combo-tickets or Museum Passes can skip this queue. (L’Annexe Café, across the street from the main entry, sells cheap coffee to-go—perfect for sipping while you wait in the security line.)
If you visit Sainte-Chapelle near the end of the day, being the last person in the chapel as it closes is an experience you’ll never forget.
Conciergerie: €8.50, €13.50 combo-ticket with Sainte-Chapelle, covered by Museum Pass, daily 9:30-18:00, 2 Boulevard du Palais, Mo: Cité, tel. 01 53 40 60 80, www.paris-conciergerie.fr.
Avoiding Crowds: This area is most crowded from midmorning to midafternoon, especially on Tue (when the Louvre is closed). On weekends, Notre-Dame and many sights can be packed (but, conversely, the security line for Sainte-Chapelle is often shorter). Generally, come early in the morning or as late in the day as possible (while still leaving enough time to visit all the sights). The worst bottleneck is at Sainte-Chapelle. To avoid this line, it can be worth rearranging the order in which you take this walk: See Sainte-Chapelle first thing in the morning, then walk over to Notre-Dame (five minutes away) to begin this tour.
Tours: 
Download my free Paris Historic Walk audio tour.
Services: A pay WC is in front of Notre-Dame near the statue of Charlemagne. Find other WCs at the Conciergerie and at cafés. A free public Wi-Fi hotspot is in Square Viviani, on the Left Bank.
(See “Historic Paris Walk” map, here.)
• Start at Notre-Dame Cathedral on the island in the Seine River, the physical and historic bull’s-eye of your Paris map. The closest Métro stops are Cité, Hôtel de Ville, and St. Michel, each a short walk away.
• On the square in front of the cathedral, stand far enough back to take in the whole facade. Find the circular window in the center.
For centuries, the main figure in the Christian pantheon has been Mary, the mother of Jesus. Catholics petition her in times of trouble to gain comfort, and to ask her to convince God to be compassionate with them. This church is dedicated to “Our Lady” (Notre Dame), and there she is, cradling God, right in the heart of the facade, surrounded by the halo of the rose window. Though the church is massive and imposing, it has always stood for the grace and compassion of Mary, the “mother of God.”
Imagine the faith of the people who built this cathedral. They broke ground in 1163 with the hope that someday their great-great-great-great-great-great grandchildren might attend the dedication Mass, which finally took place two centuries later, in 1345. Look up the 200-foot-tall bell towers and imagine a tiny medieval community mustering the money and energy for construction. Master masons supervised, but the people did much of the grunt work themselves for free—hauling the huge stones from distant quarries, digging a 30-foot-deep trench to lay the foundation, and treading like rats on a wheel designed to lift the stones up, one by one. This kind of backbreaking, arduous manual labor created the real hunchbacks of Notre-Dame.
• “Walk this way” toward the cathedral, and view it from the bronze plaque on the ground (30 yards from the central doorway).
Point Zero and Notre-DameYou’re standing at the center of France, the point from which all distances are measured. It was also the center of Paris 2,300 years ago, when the Parisii tribe fished where the east-west river crossed a north-south road. The Romans conquered the Parisii and built their Temple of Jupiter where Notre-Dame stands today (52 B.C.). Then as now, the center of religious power faced the center of political power (once the Roman military, today the police station, at the far end of the square). When Rome fell, the Germanic Franks sealed their victory by replacing the temple with the Christian church of St. Etienne in the sixth century. See the outlines of the former church in the pavement (in smaller gray stones), showing what were once walls and columns, angling out from Notre-Dame to Point Zero.
In fact, much of the history of Paris is directly beneath your feet. Two thousand years of dirt and debris have raised the city’s altitude. The nearby Archaeological Crypt has the remains of the many structures that have stood on this spot in the center of Paris: Roman buildings that surrounded the temple of Jupiter; a wall that didn’t keep the Franks out; the main medieval road that once led grandly up the square to Notre-Dame; and even (wow) a 19th-century sewer. The museum entrance is 100 yards in front of Notre-Dame’s entrance; for more on the crypt, see the listing on here.
The grand equestrian statue (to your right as you face the church) is of Charlemagne (“Charles the Great,” 742-814), King of the Franks, whose reign marked the birth of France as a nation. He briefly united Europe and was crowned the first Holy Roman Emperor in 800, but after his death, the kingdom was divided into what would become modern France and Germany.
Before its renovation 150 years ago, this square was much smaller. The church’s huge bell towers rose above a tangle of small, ramshackle medieval buildings, inspiring Victor Hugo’s story of a deformed bell-ringer who could look down on all of Paris.
Looking two-thirds of the way up Notre-Dame’s left tower, those with binoculars or good eyes can find Paris’ most photographed gargoyle (see drawing on next page). Propped on his elbows on the balcony rail, he watches all the tourists in line.
• Now turn your attention to the rest of the...
• Look at the left doorway, and to the left of the door, find the statue with his head in his hands.
The man with the misplaced head is St. Denis, the city’s first bishop and patron saint. He stands among statues of other early Christians who helped turn pagan Paris into Christian Paris.
Sometime in the third century, Denis came here from Italy to convert the Parisii. He settled here on the Ile de la Cité, back when there was a Roman temple on this spot and Christianity was suspect. Denis proved so successful at winning converts that the Romans’ pagan priests got worried. Denis was beheaded as a warning to those forsaking the Roman gods. But those early Christians were hard to keep down. The man who would become St. Denis got up, tucked his head under his arm, headed north, paused at a fountain to wash it off, and continued until he found just the right place to meet his maker: Montmartre. The Parisians were convinced by this miracle, Christianity gained ground, and a church soon replaced the pagan temple.
Medieval art was OK if it embellished the house of God and told biblical stories. For a fine example, move as close as you can get to the base of the central column (at the foot of Mary, about where the head of St. Denis could spit if he were really good). Working around from the left, find God telling a barely created Eve, “Have fun, but no apples.” Next, the sexiest serpent I’ve ever seen makes apples à la mode. Finally, Adam and Eve, now ashamed of their nakedness, are expelled by an angel. This is a tiny example in a church covered with meaning.
• Above the central doorway, you’ll find scenes from the Last Judgment.
It’s the end of the world, and Christ sits on the throne of judgment (just under the arches, holding both hands up). Beneath him an angel and a demon weigh souls in the balance; the demon cheats by pressing down. It’s a sculptural depiction of the good, the bad, and the ugly. The good souls stand to the left, gazing up to heaven. The bad souls to the right are chained up and led off to a six-hour tour of the Louvre with a lousy guide on a hot summer day. The ugly souls must be the crazy, sculpted demons just below. On the arch to the right, find the flaming cauldron with the sinner diving into it headfirst. The lower panel (beneath the chain of souls) shows angels with trumpets waking the dead from their graves. The souls are from every class of French society—knights, ladies, peasants, clergy, even royalty—reminding all who entered these doors that everyone will be judged. Fortunately, Jesus (who stands below, between the double doors) can lead the way to salvation, along with his 12 apostles—each barefoot and with his ID symbol (such as Peter with his keys).
• Take 10 big paces back (un, deux, trois...). Above the arches is a row of 28 statues, known as...
In the days of the French Revolution (1789-1799), these biblical kings were mistaken for the hated French kings, and Notre-Dame represented the oppressive Catholic hierarchy. The citizens stormed the church, crying, “Off with their heads!” Plop—they lopped off the crowned heads of these kings with glee, creating a row of St. Denises that weren’t repaired for decades.
But the story doesn’t end there. A schoolteacher who lived nearby collected the heads and buried them in his backyard for safekeeping. There they slept until 1977, when they were accidentally unearthed. Today, you can stare into the eyes of the original kings in the Cluny Museum, a few blocks away (see here).
• Now let’s head into the...
Notre-Dame Interior(See “Notre-Dame Interior” map, here.)
• Enter the church at the right doorway (the line moves quickly) and find a spot where you can view the long, high central aisle. (Be careful: Pickpockets attend church here religiously.)
Remove your metaphorical hat and become a simple bareheaded peasant, entering the dim medieval light of the church. Take a minute to let your pupils dilate, then take in the subtle, mysterious light show that God beams through the stained-glass windows. Follow the slender columns up 10 stories to the praying-hands arches of the ceiling, and contemplate the heavens. Let’s say it’s dedication day for this great stone wonder. The priest intones the words of the Mass that echo through the hall: Terribilis est locus iste...“This place is terribilis,” meaning awe-inspiring or even terrifying. It’s a huge, dark, earthly cavern lit with an unearthly light.
This is Gothic. Taller and filled with light, Notre-Dame was a major improvement over the earlier Romanesque style. Gothic architects needed only a few structural columns, topped by crisscrossing pointed arches, to support the weight of the roof. This let them build higher than ever, freeing up the walls for windows.
Notre-Dame has the typical basilica floor plan shared by so many Catholic churches: a long central nave lined with columns and flanked by side aisles. It’s designed in the shape of a cross, with the altar placed where the crossbeam intersects. The church can hold up to 10,000 faithful, and it’s probably buzzing with visitors now, just as it was 600 years ago. The quiet, deserted churches we see elsewhere are in stark contrast to the busy, center-of-life places they were in the Middle Ages.
• Follow the flow of the crowd and approach closer to the main altar.
This marks the place where Mass is said and the bread and wine of Communion are blessed and distributed. In olden days, there were no chairs. This was the holy spot for Romans, Christians...and even atheists. When the Revolutionaries stormed the church, they gutted it and turned it into a “Temple of Reason.” A woman dressed like the Statue of Liberty held court at the altar as a symbol of the divinity of Man. France today, though nominally Catholic, remains aloof from Vatican dogmatism. Instead of traditional wooden confessional booths, there’s an inviting glass-walled room (right aisle), where modern sinners seek counseling as much as forgiveness.
Just past the altar is the so-called choir, the area enclosed with carved-wood walls, where more intimate services can be held in this spacious building.
A statue of Joan of Arc (Jeanne d’Arc, 1412-1431), dressed in armor and praying, honors the French teenager who rallied her country’s soldiers to try to drive English invaders from Paris. The English and their allies burned her at the stake for claiming to hear heavenly voices. Almost immediately, Parisians rallied to condemn Joan’s execution, and finally, in 1909, here in Notre-Dame, the former “witch” was beatified.
Join the statue in gazing up to the blue-and-purple, rose-shaped window in the opposite transept—with teeny green Mary and baby Jesus in the center—the only one of the three rose windows still with its original medieval glass.
A large painting back down to your right shows portly Thomas Aquinas (1225-1274) teaching, while his students drink from the fountain of knowledge. This Italian monk did undergrad and master’s work at the multicultural University of Paris, then taught there for several years while writing his theological works. His “scholasticism” used Aristotle’s logic to examine the Christian universe, aiming to fuse faith and reason.
• Continue a few paces toward the far end of the church, pausing at the top of the three stairs.
The back side of the choir walls feature scenes of the resurrected Jesus (c. 1350) appearing to his followers, starting with Mary Magdalene. Their starry robes still gleam, thanks to a 19th-century renovation. The niches below these carvings mark the tombs of centuries of archbishops. Just ahead on the right is the Treasury. It contains lavish robes, golden reliquaries, and the humble tunic of King (and St.) Louis IX, but it probably isn’t worth the entry fee.
As you continue around the choir, check out the chapels with their radiant stained glass, each dedicated to a particular saint and funded by a certain guild. Directly behind the choir lies one of the oldest statues in the church, a bishop of Paris from the 13th century, in his jewel-studded robe with a lion at his feet. A chapel nearby displays models of the church and an exhibit on medieval construction techniques—pulleys, wagons, hamster-wheel cranes, and lots of elbow grease. Farther along, there are often displays on the long multicentury project of constructing Notre-Dame. In the right transept, find a gilded-and-enameled reliquary dedicated to St. Geneviève (fifth century), whose prayers saved Paris from Attila the Hun. Throughout the church, the faithful can pause at any of the chapels to light a candle as an offering and meditate in the cool light of the stained glass.
• Amble around the ambulatory, spill back outside, and make a slow U-turn left. Enter the park (named “Square Jean XXIII”) through the iron gates along the riverside and walk about 50 yards until you come to a statue of Saint John Paul II.
Notre-Dame Side ViewAlongside the church you’ll notice many of the elements of Gothic: pointed arches, the lacy stone tracery of the windows, pinnacles, statues on rooftops, a lead roof, and a pointed steeple covered with the prickly “flames” (Flamboyant Gothic) of the Holy Spirit. Most distinctive of all are the flying buttresses. These 50-foot stone “beams” that stick out of the church were the key to the complex Gothic architecture. The pointed arches we saw inside cause the weight of the roof to push outward rather than downward. The “flying” buttresses support the roof by pushing back inward. Gothic architects were masters at playing architectural forces against each other to build loftier and loftier churches, opening the walls for stained-glass windows. The Gothic style was born here in Paris.
It takes 13 tourists to build a Gothic church: one steeple, six columns, and six buttresses.
Picture Quasimodo (the fictional hunchback) limping around along the railed balcony at the base of the roof among the “gargoyles.” These grotesque beasts sticking out from pillars and buttresses represent souls caught between heaven and earth. They also function as rainspouts (from the same French root word as “gargle”) when there are no evil spirits to battle.
The Neo-Gothic 300-foot spire is a product of the 1860 reconstruction of the dilapidated old church. Victor Hugo’s book The Hunchback of Notre-Dame (1831) inspired a young architecture student named Eugène-Emmanuel Viollet-le-Duc to dedicate his career to a major renovation in Gothic style. Find Viollet-le-Duc at the base of the spire among the green apostles and evangelists (visible as you approach the back end of the church). The apostles look outward, blessing the city, while the architect (at top) looks up the spire, marveling at his fine work.
• Behind Notre-Dame, cross the street and enter through the iron gate into the park at the tip of the island. (If this gate is closed, you can still enter the park 30 yards to the left.) Look for the stairs and head down to reach the...
Deportation Memorial (Mémorial de la Déportation)This memorial to the 200,000 French victims of the Nazi concentration camps (1940-1945) draws you into their experience. France was quickly overrun by Nazi Germany, and Paris spent the war years under Nazi occupation. Jews and dissidents were rounded up and deported—many never returned.
As you descend the steps, the city around you disappears. Surrounded by walls, you have become a prisoner. Your only freedom is your view of the sky and the tiny glimpse of the river below. Enter the dark, single-file chamber up ahead. Inside, the circular plaque in the floor reads, “They went to the end of the earth and did not return.”
The hallway stretching in front of you is lined with 200,000 lighted crystals, one for each French citizen who died. Flickering at the far end is the eternal flame of hope. The tomb of the unknown deportee lies at your feet. Above, the inscription reads, “Dedicated to the living memory of the 200,000 French deportees shrouded by the night and the fog, exterminated in the Nazi concentration camps.” The side rooms are filled with triangles—reminiscent of the identification patches inmates were forced to wear—each bearing the name of a concentration camp. Above the exit as you leave is the message you’ll find at many other Holocaust sites: “Forgive, but never forget.”
• Back on street level, but before leaving the memorial park, look across the river (north) to the island called...
Ile St. LouisIf Ile de la Cité is a tugboat laden with the history of Paris, it’s towing this classy little residential dinghy, laden only with high-rent apartments, boutiques, characteristic restaurants, and famous ice cream shops.
Ile St. Louis wasn’t developed until much later than Ile de la Cité (17th century). What was a swampy mess is now harmonious Parisian architecture and one of Paris’ most exclusive neighborhoods.
Look upstream (east) to the bridge (Pont Tournelle) that links Ile St. Louis with the Left Bank (which is now on your right). Where the bridge meets the Left Bank, you’ll find one of Paris’ most exclusive restaurants, La Tour d’Argent (with a flag flying from the rooftop). This restaurant was the inspiration for the movie Ratatouille. Because the top floor has floor-to-ceiling windows, your evening meal comes with glittering views—and a golden price (allow €200 minimum, though you get a photo of yourself dining elegantly with Notre-Dame floodlit in the background).
It’s a lovely place for an evening stroll (for details, see here). If you won’t have time to come back, consider taking a brief detour across the pedestrian bridge, Pont St. Louis, to explore this little island.
• From the Deportation Memorial, cross the bridge to the Left Bank. Turn right and walk along the river, toward the front end of Notre-Dame and to the next bridge. Stairs detour down to the riverbank if you need a place to picnic. This side view of the church from across the river is one of Europe’s great sights and is best from river level. At times, you may find barges housing restaurants with great cathedral views docked here.
Left Bank BooksellersThe Rive Gauche, or the Left Bank of the Seine—“left” if you were floating downstream—still has many of the twisting lanes and narrow buildings of medieval times. The Right Bank is more modern and business-oriented, with wide boulevards and stressed Parisians in suits. Here along the riverbank, the “big business” is secondhand books, displayed in the green metal stalls on the parapet (called bouquinistes). These literary entrepreneurs pride themselves on their easygoing style. With flexible hours and virtually no overhead, they run their businesses as they have since medieval times.
Bouquinistes (boo-keen-eest) have been a Parisian fixture since the mid-1500s, when such shops and stalls lined most of the bridges in Paris. In 1557, these merchants ran afoul of the authorities for selling forbidden Protestant pamphlets in then-Catholic Paris. After the Revolution, business boomed when entire libraries were liberated from rich nobles.
Today, the waiting list to become one of Paris’ 250 bouquinistes is eight years. Each bouquiniste is allowed four boxes, and the most-coveted spots are awarded based on seniority. Rent is around €100 per year. Bouquinistes are required to paint their boxes a standard green and stay open at least four days a week, or they lose their spot. Notice how they guard against the rain by wrapping everything in plastic. And yes, they do leave everything inside when they lock up at night; metal bars and padlocks keep things safe. Though their main items may be vintage books, these days tourists prefer posters and magnets.
• When you reach the bridge (Pont au Double) that crosses to the front of Notre-Dame, veer left across the street and find a small park called Square Viviani (fill your water bottle from fountain on left).
Angle across the square and pass by Paris’ oldest inhabitant—an acacia tree nicknamed Robinier, after the guy who planted it in 1602. Imagine that this same tree might once have shaded the Sun King, Louis XIV. Just beyond the tree you’ll find the small rough-stone church of St. Julien-le-Pauvre. Leave the park, walking past the church, to tiny Rue Galande.
Medieval ParisPicture Paris in 1250, when the church of St. Julien-le-Pauvre was still new. Notre-Dame was nearly done (so they thought), Sainte-Chapelle had just opened, the university was expanding human knowledge, and Paris was fast becoming a prosperous industrial and commercial center. The area around the church and along Rue Galande gives you some of the medieval feel of ramshackle architecture and old houses leaning every which way. In medieval days, people were piled on top of each other, building at all angles, as they scrambled for this prime real estate near the main commercial artery of the day—the Seine. The smell of fish competed with the smell of neighbors in this knot of humanity.
Narrow dirt (or mud) streets sloped from here down into the mucky Seine until the 19th century, when modern quays and embankments cleaned everything up.
• Now, return toward the river, walking past the church and park on the cobbled lane. Turn left on Rue de la Bûcherie and drop into the...
Shakespeare and Company BookstoreIn addition to hosting butchers and fishmongers, the Left Bank has been home to scholars, philosophers, and poets since medieval times. This funky bookstore—a reincarnation of the original shop from the 1920s on Rue de l’Odéon—has picked up the literary torch. Sylvia Beach, an American with a passion for free thinking, opened Shakespeare and Company for the post-WWI Lost Generation, who came to Paris to find themselves. American writers flocked to the city for the cheap rent, fleeing the uptight, Prohibition-era United States. Beach’s bookstore was famous as a meeting place for Paris’ expatriate literary elite. Ernest Hemingway borrowed books from it regularly. James Joyce struggled to find a publisher for his now-classic novel Ulysses—until Sylvia Beach published it. George Bernard Shaw, Gertrude Stein, and Ezra Pound also got their English fix at her shop.
Today, the bookstore carries on that literary tradition—the owner, Sylvia, is named after the original store’s founder. Struggling writers are given free accommodations in tiny rooms with views of Notre-Dame. Explore—the upstairs has a few seats, cots, antique typewriters, and cozy nooks. Downstairs, travelers enjoy a great selection of used English books—including my Paris and France guidebooks. Their cozy coffee shop sits next door.
Notice the green water fountain (1900) in front of the bookstore, one of the many in Paris donated by the English philanthropist Sir Richard Wallace. The hooks below the caryatids once held metal mugs for drinking the water before the age of plastic.
• Continue to Rue du Petit-Pont and turn left. This bustling north-south boulevard (which becomes Rue St. Jacques) was the Romans’ busiest street 2,000 years ago, with chariots racing in and out of the city. (Roman-iacs can view remains from the third-century baths, and a fine medieval collection, at the nearby Cluny Museum; 
see the Cluny Museum Tour chapter.)
A block south of the Seine, turn right at the Gothic church of St. Séverin and walk into the Latin Quarter.
St. SéverinDon’t ask me why, but building this church took a century longer than building Notre-Dame. This is Flamboyant, or “flame-like,” Gothic, and you can see how the short, prickly spires are meant to make this building flicker in the eyes of the faithful. The church gives us a close-up look at gargoyles, the decorative drain spouts that also functioned to keep evil spirits away.
Inside you can see the final stage of Gothic, on the cusp of the Renaissance. It’s also notable for carrying on the medieval tradition of stained-glass windows into more modern times, while keeping the dominant blues, greens, and reds popular in St. Séverin’s heyday. Walk to the apse and admire the lone twisted Flamboyant Gothic column and the fan vaulting. The apse’s windows (by Jean Bazaine, c. 1960) echo the fan-vaulting effect in a modern, abstract way. Each colorful window represents one of the seven sacraments—blue for baptism, yellow for marriage, etc. The impressive organ filling the entrance wall is a reminder that this church is still a popular venue for evening concerts (see gate for information posters, buy tickets at door).
• At #22 Rue St. Séverin, you’ll find the skinniest house in Paris, two windows wide. Rue St. Séverin leads right through...
Although it may look more like the Greek Quarter today (cheap gyros abound), this area is the Latin Quarter, named for the language you’d have heard on these streets if you walked them in the Middle Ages. The University of Paris (founded 1215), one of the leading educational institutions of medieval Europe, was (and still is) nearby.
A thousand years ago, the “crude” or vernacular local languages were sophisticated enough to communicate basic human needs, but if you wanted to get philosophical, the language of choice was Latin. Medieval Europe’s class of educated elite transcended nations and borders. From Sicily to Sweden, they spoke and corresponded in Latin. Now the most “Latin” thing about this area is the beat you may hear coming from some of the subterranean jazz clubs.
Walking along Rue St. Séverin, you can still see the shadow of the medieval sewer system. The street slopes into a central channel of bricks. In the days before plumbing and toilets, when people still went to the river or neighborhood wells for their water, flushing meant throwing it out the window. At certain times of day, maids on the fourth floor would holler, “Garde de l’eau!” (“Watch out for the water!”) and heave it into the streets, where it would eventually wash down into the Seine.
As you wander, remember that before Napoleon III commissioned Baron Haussmann to modernize the city with grand boulevards (19th century), Paris was just like this—a medieval tangle. The ethnic feel of this area is nothing new—it’s been a melting pot and university district for almost 800 years.
• Keep wandering straight, and you’ll come to...
Boulevard St. MichelBusy Boulevard St. Michel (or “boul’ Miche”) is famous as the main artery for Paris’ café and arts scene, culminating a block away (to the left) at the intersection with Boulevard St. Germain. Although nowadays you’re more likely to find pantyhose at 30 percent off, there are still many cafés, boutiques, and bohemian haunts nearby.
The Sorbonne—the University of Paris’ humanities department—is also nearby, if you want to make a detour, though visitors are not allowed to enter. (Turn left on Boulevard St. Michel and walk two blocks south. Gaze at the dome from the Place de la Sorbonne courtyard.) Originally founded as a theological school, the Sorbonne began attracting more students and famous professors—such as St. Thomas Aquinas and Peter Abélard—as its prestige grew. By the time the school expanded to include other subjects, it had a reputation for bold new ideas. Nonconformity is a tradition here, and Paris remains a world center for new intellectual trends.
• Nearby is the Cluny Museum (see here), which brings the era of Aquinas and Abélard to life. But to continue this walk, cross Boulevard St. Michel. Just ahead is...
This tree-filled square is lined with cafés. In Paris, most serious thinking goes on in cafés. For centuries these have been social watering holes, where you can get a warm place to sit and stimulating conversation for the price of a cup of coffee. Every great French writer—from Voltaire and Jean-Jacques Rousseau to Jean-Paul Sartre and Jacques Derrida—had a favorite haunt.
Paris honors its intellectuals. If you visit the Panthéon (described on here)—several blocks up Boulevard St. Michel and to the left—you’ll find French writers (Voltaire, Victor Hugo, Emile Zola, and Rousseau), inventors (Louis Braille), and scientists (including Marie and Pierre Curie) buried in a setting usually reserved for warriors and politicians.
• Adjoining this square toward the river is the triangular Place St. Michel, with a Métro stop and a statue of St. Michael killing a devil. Note: If you were to continue west along Rue St. André-des-Arts, you’d find more Left Bank action (see here).
Place St. MichelYou’re standing at the traditional core of the Left Bank’s artsy, liberal, hippie, bohemian district of poets, philosophers, winos, and baba cools (neo-hippies). Nearby, you’ll find international eateries, far-out bookshops, street singers, pale girls in black berets, jazz clubs, and—these days—tourists. Small cinemas show avant-garde films, almost always in the version originale (v.o.). For colorful wandering and café-sitting, afternoons and evenings are best. In the morning, it feels sleepy. The Latin Quarter stays up late and sleeps in.
In less commercial times, Place St. Michel was a gathering point for the city’s malcontents and misfits. In 1830, 1848, and again in 1871, the citizens took the streets from the government troops, set up barricades Les Miz-style, and fought against royalist oppression. During World War II, the locals rose up against their Nazi oppressors (read the plaques under the dragons at the foot of the St. Michel fountain).
In the spring of 1968, a time of social upheaval all over the world, young students battled riot batons and tear gas by digging up the cobblestones on the street and hurling them at police. They took over the square and declared it an independent state. Factory workers followed their call to arms and went on strike, challenging the de Gaulle government and forcing change. Eventually, the students were pacified, the university was reformed, and the Latin Quarter’s original cobblestones were replaced with pavement, so future scholars could never again use the streets as weapons. Even today, whenever there’s a student demonstration, it starts here.
• From Place St. Michel, look across the river and find the prickly steeple of the Sainte-Chapelle church. Head toward it. Cross the river on Pont St. Michel and continue north along the Boulevard du Palais. On your left, you’ll see the doorway to Sainte-Chapelle.
Security is strict at the Sainte-Chapelle complex because this is more than a tourist attraction: France’s Supreme Court meets to the right of Sainte-Chapelle in the Palais de Justice. Expect a long wait (for tips on avoiding the worst lines, see here).
Once past security, you’ll enter the courtyard outside Sainte-Chapelle, where you’ll find information about upcoming church concerts. The ticket office is near the church entry, which is often hidden behind a long line of ticket buyers. Remember, if you already have a Museum Pass or Conciergerie combo-ticket in hand, march up to the front, and you’ll be allowed right in.
• Enter the humble ground floor.
Sainte-Chapelle(See “Sainte-Chapelle” map, here.)
This triumph of Gothic church architecture is a cathedral of glass like no other. It was speedily built between 1242 and 1248 for King Louis IX—the only French king who is now a saint—to house the supposed Crown of Thorns (now kept at Notre-Dame and shown only on Good Friday and on the first Friday of the month at 15:00). Its architectural harmony is due to the fact that it was completed under the direction of one architect and in only six years—unheard of in Gothic times. Recall that Notre-Dame took more than 200 years.
Though the inside is beautiful, the exterior is basically functional. The muscular buttresses hold up the stone roof, so the walls are essentially there to display stained glass. The lacy spire is Neo-Gothic—added in the 19th century. Inside, the layout clearly shows an ancien régime approach to worship. The low-ceilinged basement was for staff and other common folks—worshipping under a sky filled with painted fleurs-de-lis, a symbol of the king. Royal Christians worshipped upstairs. The paint job, a 19th-century restoration, helps you imagine how grand this small, painted, jeweled chapel was. (Imagine Notre-Dame painted like this...) Each capital is playfully carved with a different plant’s leaves.
• Climb the spiral staircase to the Chapelle Haute. Leave the rough stone of the earth and step into the light.
Fiat lux. “Let there be light.” From the first page of the Bible, it’s clear: Light is divine. Light shines through stained glass like God’s grace shining down to earth. Gothic architects used their new technology to turn dark stone buildings into lanterns of light. The glory of Gothic shines brighter here than in any other church.
There are 15 separate panels of stained glass (6,500 square feet—two thirds of it 13th-century original), with more than 1,100 different scenes, mostly from the Bible. These cover the entire Christian history of the world, from the Creation in Genesis (first window on the left, as you face the altar), to the coming of Christ (over the altar), to the end of the world (the round “rose”-shaped window at the rear of the church). Each individual scene is interesting, and the whole effect is overwhelming. Allow yourself a few minutes to bask in the glow of the colored light before tackling the window descriptions below.
• Working clockwise from the entrance, look for these notable scenes, using the map above as a reference. (The sun lights up different windows at various times of day. Overcast days give the most even light. On bright, sunny days, some sections are glorious, while others look like sheets of lead.)
Genesis—Cain Clubbing Abel (first window on the left, always dark because of a building butted up against it): On the bottom level in the third circle from the left, we see God create the round earth and hold it up. On the next level up, we catch glimpses of naked Adam and Eve. On the third level (far right circle), Cain, in red, clubs his brother Abel, committing the first murder.
Life of Moses (second window, the dark bottom row of diamond panels): The first panel shows baby Moses in a basket, placed by his sister in the squiggly brown river. Next he’s found by the pharaoh’s daughter. Then he grows up. And finally, he’s a man, a prince of Egypt on his royal throne.
More Moses (third window, in middle and upper sections): See how many guys with bright yellow horns you can spy. Moses is shown with horns as the result of a medieval mistranslation of the Hebrew word for “rays of light,” or halo.
Jesus’ Passion Scenes (directly over the altar and behind the canopy): These scenes from Jesus’ arrest and Crucifixion were the backdrop for the Crown of Thorns (originally displayed on the altar), which was placed on Jesus’ head when the Romans were torturing and humiliating him before his execution. Stand close to the steps of the altar—about five paces away—and look through the canopy to see Jesus, tied to a green column, being whipped. Alongside is the key scene in this relic chapel—Jesus (in purple robe) being fitted with the painful Crown of Thorns. Now get right up to the altar steps and look up. Just below the top of the canopy, find Jesus in yellow shorts, carrying his cross (fifth frame up from right bottom). Finally (as high as you can see), Jesus on the cross is speared by a soldier.
Campaign of Holofernes (window to the right of the altar wall): On the bottom row are four scenes of colorful knights. The second circle from the left is a battle scene (the campaign of Holofernes), showing three soldiers with swords slaughtering three men. The background is blue. The men have different-colored clothes—red, blue, green, mauve, and white. Examine some of the details. You can see the folds in the robes, the hair, and facial features. Look at the victim in the center—his head is splotched with blood. Details like the folds in the robes (see the victim in white, lower left) came about either by scratching on the glass or by baking on paint. It was a painstaking process of finding just the right colors, fitting them together to make a scene...and then multiplying by 1,100.
Helena in Jerusalem (first window on the right wall by entrance): This window tells the story of how Christ’s Crown of Thorns found its way from Jerusalem to Constantinople to this chapel. Start in the lower-left corner, where the Roman emperor Constantine (in blue, on his throne) waves goodbye to his Christian mom, Helena. She arrives at the gate of Jerusalem (next panel to the right). Her men (in the two-part medallion above Jerusalem) dig through ruins and find Christ’s (tiny) cross and other relics. She returns to Constantinople with a stash of holy relics, including the Crown of Thorns. Nine hundred years later, French Crusader knights (the next double medallion above) invade the Holy Land and visit Constantinople. Finally, King Louis IX (hard to see, but he’s the guy dressed in blue farther up) returns to France with the sacred relic.
Rose Window (above entrance): It’s Judgment Day, with a tiny Christ in the center of the chaos and miracles. This window, from the Flamboyant period, is 200 years newer than the rest. Facing west and the sunset, it’s best late in the day.
If you can’t read much into the individual windows, you’re not alone. (For some tutoring, a little book with color photos is on sale downstairs with the postcards.)
The altar was raised up high to better display the Crown of Thorns, the relic around which this chapel was built. Notice the staircase: Access was limited to the priest and the king, who wore the keys to the shrine around his neck. Also note that there is no high-profile image of Jesus anywhere—this chapel was all about the Crown.
King Louis IX, convinced he’d found the real McCoy, spent roughly the equivalent of €500 million for the Crown, €370 million for the gem-studded shrine to display it in (later destroyed in the French Revolution), and a mere €150 million to build Sainte-Chapelle to house it. Today, the supposed Crown of Thorns is kept by the Notre-Dame Treasury (though it’s occasionally brought out for display).
Lay your camera on the ground and shoot the ceiling. Those pure and simple ribs growing out of the slender columns are the essence of Gothic structure.
• Exit Sainte-Chapelle. Back outside, as you walk around the church exterior, look down to see the foundation and take note of how much Paris has risen in the 750 years since Sainte-Chapelle was built.
Next door to Sainte-Chapelle is the...
Sainte-Chapelle sits within a huge complex of buildings that has housed the local government since ancient Roman times. It was the site of the original Gothic palace of the early kings of France. The only surviving medieval parts are Sainte-Chapelle and the Conciergerie prison.
Most of the site is now covered by the giant Palais de Justice, built in 1776, home of the French Supreme Court. The motto Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité over the doors is a reminder that this was also the headquarters of the Revolutionary government. Here they doled out justice, condemning many to imprisonment in the Conciergerie downstairs—or to the guillotine.
• Now pass through the big iron gate to the noisy Boulevard du Palais. Cross the street to the wide, pedestrian-only Rue de Lutèce and walk about halfway down.
Cité “Metropolitain” Métro StopOf the 141 original early-20th-century subway entrances, this is one of only a few survivors—now preserved as a national art treasure. (New York’s Museum of Modern Art even exhibits one.) It marks Paris at its peak in 1900—on the cutting edge of Modernism, but with an eye for beauty. The curvy, plantlike ironwork is a textbook example of Art Nouveau, the style that rebelled against the erector-set squareness of the Industrial Age. Other similar Métro stations in Paris are Abbesses and Porte Dauphine.
The flower and plant market on Place Louis Lépine is a pleasant detour. On Sundays this square flutters with a busy bird market. And across the way is the Préfecture de Police, where Inspector Clouseau of Pink Panther fame used to work, and where the local resistance fighters took the first building from the Nazis in August 1944, leading to the Allied liberation of Paris a week later.
• Pause here to admire the view. Sainte-Chapelle is a pearl in an ugly architectural oyster. Double back to the Palais de Justice, turn right onto Boulevard du Palais, and enter the Conciergerie. It’s free with the Museum Pass; passholders can sidestep the bottleneck created by the ticket-buying line.
ConciergerieThough pretty barren inside, this former prison echoes with history. Positioned next to the courthouse, the Conciergerie was the gloomy prison famous as the last stop for 2,780 victims of the guillotine, including France’s last ancien régime queen, Marie-Antoinette. Before then, kings had used the building to torture and execute failed assassins. (One of its towers along the river was called “The Babbler,” named for the pain-induced sounds that leaked from it.) When the Revolution (1789) toppled the king, the building kept its same function, but without torture. The progressive Revolutionaries proudly unveiled a modern and more humane way to execute people—the guillotine. The Conciergerie was the epicenter of the Reign of Terror—the year-long period of the Revolution (1793-94) during which Revolutionary fervor spiraled out of control and thousands were killed. It was here at the Conciergerie that “enemies of the Revolution” were imprisoned, tried, sentenced, and marched off to Place de la Concorde for decapitation.
Pick up a free map and breeze through the one-way circuit. It’s well-described in English. See the spacious, low-ceilinged Hall of Men-at-Arms (Room 1), originally a guards’ dining room, with four big fireplaces (look up the chimneys). During the Reign of Terror, this large hall served as a holding tank for the poorest prisoners. Then they were taken upstairs (in an area not open to visitors), where the Revolutionary tribunals grilled scared prisoners on their political correctness. Continue to the raised area at the far end of the room (Room 4, today’s bookstore). In Revolutionary days, this was notorious as the walkway of the executioner, who was known affectionately as “Monsieur de Paris.”
Pass through the bookstore to find the Office of the Keeper, or “Concierge” of the place (who admitted shackled prisoners, monitored torture...and recommended nearby restaurants). Next door is the Toilette, where condemned prisoners combed their hair or touched up their lipstick before their final public appearance—waiting for the open-air cart (tumbrel) to pull up outside. The tumbrel would carry them to the guillotine, which was on Place de la Concorde.
Upstairs is a memorial room with the names of the 2,780 citizens condemned to death by the guillotine. Here are some of the people you’ll find, in alphabetical order. Anne Elisabeth Capet (a.k.a. Princess Elisabeth) was decapitated for the crime of being a “sister of the tyrant.” Charlotte Corday (“dite d’Armais”), a noblewoman, snuck into the bathroom of the revolutionary writer Jean-Paul Marat and stabbed him while he bathed. Georges Danton was a prominent revolutionary who was later condemned for being insufficiently liberal—a nasty crime. Louis XVI (called “Capet: last king of France”) deserves only a modest mention, as does his wife, Marie-Antoinette (veuve means she’s widowed). And finally—oh, the irony—there’s Maximilien de Robespierre, the head of the Revolution, the man who sent so many to the guillotine. He was eventually toppled, humiliated, imprisoned here, and beheaded.
Head down the hallway. Along the way, you’ll see some reconstructed cells showing how the poor slept on straw (first cell), whereas the wealthy got a cot (next cell).
Then comes a small set of displays (in French). You’ll see old paintings of the Conciergerie and some of the famous prisoners.
Next, go downstairs, where—tucked behind heavy gray curtains—is a tiny chapel built on the site where Marie-Antoinette’s prison cell originally stood. The chapel was made in Marie’s honor by Louis XVIII, the brother of beheaded Louis XVI and the first king to reclaim the throne after the Revolution. The chapel’s three paintings tell her sad story: First, Marie (dressed in widow’s black) stoically says goodbye to her grieving family as she’s led off to prison. Next, still stoic, she awaits her fate. Finally, she piously kneels in her cell to receive the Last Sacrament on the night before her beheading. The chapel’s walls drip with silver-embroidered tears.
The tour continues outside in the “Cour de Femmes” courtyard, where female prisoners were allowed a little fresh air (notice the spikes still guarding from above). Return indoors through the door at the opposite end of the courtyard, on your left.
The next room (immediately on the left) is a re-creation of Marie-Antoinette’s cell. On August 12, 1793, the queen was brought here to be tried for her supposed crimes against the people. Imagine the queen spending her last days—separated from her 10-year-old son, and now widowed because the king had already been executed. Mannequins, period furniture, and the real cell wallpaper set the scene. The guard stands modestly behind a screen, while the queen psyches herself up with a crucifix. In the glass display case, see her actual crucifix, rug, and small water pitcher. On October 16, 1793, the queen was awakened at 4:00 in the morning and led away. She walked the corridor, stepped onto the cart, and was slowly carried to Place de la Concorde, where she had a date with “Monsieur de Paris.”
• Back outside, turn left on Boulevard du Palais. On the corner is the city’s oldest public clock. The mechanism of the present clock is from 1334, and even though the case is Baroque, it keeps on ticking.
Turn left onto Quai de l’Horloge and walk along the river, past “The Babbler” tower. The bridge up ahead is the Pont Neuf, where we’ll end this walk. At the first corner, veer left into a sleepy triangular square called...
Place DauphineIt’s amazing to find such coziness in the heart of Paris. This city of more than two million is still a city of neighborhoods, a collection of villages. The French Supreme Court building looms behind like a giant marble gavel. Enjoy the village-Paris feeling in the park. The $$$ Caveau du Palais restaurant is a refined spot for a drink (cool bar/café) or a fine meal, inside or out (17 Place Dauphine, tel. 01 43 26 04 28). If you feel more like plotting a revolution (while saving some euros), try the funky $$ Ma Salle à Manger (across the square at #26, tel. 01 43 29 52 34).
• Continue through Place Dauphine. As you pop out the other end, you’re face-to-face with a...
Henry IV (1553-1610) is not as famous as his grandson, Louis XIV, but Henry helped make Paris what it is today—a European capital of elegant buildings and quiet squares. He built the Place Dauphine (behind you), the Pont Neuf (to the right), residences (to the left, down Rue Dauphine), the Louvre’s long Grand Gallery (downriver on the right), and the tree-filled Square du Vert-Galant (directly behind the statue, on the tip of the island). The square is one of Paris’ make-out spots; its name comes from Henry’s nickname, the Green Knight, as Henry was a notorious ladies’ man. The park is a great place to relax, dangling your legs over the concrete prow of this boat-shaped island.
• From the statue, turn right onto the old bridge. Pause at the little nook halfway across.
Pont Neuf and the SeineThis “new bridge” is now Paris’ oldest. Built during Henry IV’s reign (about 1600), its arches span the widest part of the river. Unlike other bridges, this one never had houses or buildings growing on it. The turrets were originally for vendors and street entertainers. In the days of Henry IV, who promised his peasants “a chicken in every pot every Sunday,” this would have been a lively scene. From the bridge, look downstream (west) to see the next bridge, the pedestrian-only Pont des Arts. Ahead on the Right Bank is the long Louvre museum. Beyond that, on the Left Bank, is the Orsay. And what’s that tall black tower in the distance?
Our walk ends where Paris began—on the Seine River. From Dijon to the English Channel, the Seine meanders 500 miles, cutting through the center of Paris. The river is shallow and slow within the city, but still dangerous enough to require steep stone embankments (built 1910) to prevent occasional floods.
In summer, the roads that run along the river are replaced with acres of sand, as well as beach chairs and tanned locals, creating the Paris Plages (see here). The success of the Paris Plages event has motivated the city to take the next step: to permanently banish vehicles from those fast lanes on the Left Bank between the Orsay and Pont de l’Alma, turning them into riverside parks instead.
Any time of year, you’ll see tourist boats and the commercial barges that carry 20 percent of Paris’ transported goods. And on the banks, sportsmen today cast into the waters once fished by Paris’ original Celtic inhabitants.
• We’re done. You can take a boat tour that leaves from near the base of Pont Neuf on the island side (Vedettes du Pont Neuf; see page 39).
Or you could take my walking tour of the Left Bank, which begins one bridge downriver ( see the Left Bank Walk chapter). The nearest Métro stop is Pont Neuf, across the bridge on the Right Bank. Bus #69 heads east along Quai du Louvre (at the north end of the bridge) and west along Rue de Rivoli (a block farther north; see the Bus #69 Sightseeing Tour chapter). In fact, you can go anywhere—you’re standing in the heart of Paris.