Please Excuse My Absence

Cimetière de Passy

I'm very sorry that I haven't written in a week. Life. More graveyards this past weekend. This time it was the Passy Cemetery (less than a block from my apartment). Cold, grey days are the best to wander around graveyards, so I was pleased that we chose Saturday morning to venture over. I was surprised to learn that it is Manet's final resting spot. We weren't able to find them, but apparently Debussy and some other composers are there as well. There was some sort of music happening over at Trocadero, and it created this kind of ambient noise with which to meditatively walk though the maze of headstones.

Edouard Manet

After the cemetery, we walked through Trocadero, across the river, and around the Eiffel Tower to Invalides. It used to function as an invalid/veterans hospital, but I believe now it's solely the Musée de l'Armée (Army Museum) and the site of Napoléon Bonaparte's tomb. I really enjoyed myself. It's a gorgeous building and the collection is enormous. I did feel like I was seeing the same gun/axe/canon for two hours, but I learned quite a bit about war gear. 

Invalides

And see that gold dome? You'd think it was just a nicely placed ornament, but of course not. It marks Napoléon's tomb. So anywhere in Paris, you can know exactly where he is. 

The inside of Invalides

 The tomb is directly in the center and enormous! In context, my head would probably only hit the bottom of the red part. Giant. And for such a small man...

Napoléon's Tomb

Since we were in the area, we also found our way over to Rue Cler. Famed market street, thanks to Rick Steves. Despite the more toursity things, it's still a great market street with local regulars and fun things to look at. There were antique stalls up earlier in the day, and at night it was buzzing with movement, noise, and smells. And the lights! The Christmas lights all over town have lit up and they're great. I treated myself to a tarte aux pommes during our stroll down the rue, and it was delicious.

Rue Cler

And even after quite a full day, everyone came over to my shoebox for dinner. Saw this on the walk home.

Luis de Camoëns: Portugese Poet and Clown.

I made the food while the others worked on the vin chaud (mulled wine). Now that the Christmas markets and winter items are out, I see vin chaud everywhere. Spiced, warm wine. Nothing is better on a bitingly cold evening. So we sipped vin chaud and beaujolais while hanging out my window and trying to see the top of the tower.