Red Windmills

Both of us woke up early this morning (me: 5:30, she: 6:00) and sat around with coffee.  I miss having a morning newspaper.  My iPad-enabled friends wrinkle up their noses at me every time I say this, but there is just something about paper …

We got an early start on Frommer’s Walk #11 (Montmartre district) thinking that it always seems to rain later in the day.  The theory held, as we made it through the walk without rain, but sprinkling toward the end.  We saw the Sacré Cœur Bacillica, the Lapin Agile Caberet, the Moulin Rouge and a bunch of other stuff.  We ate crepes.

Significant for me along the walk, was the Saint-Pierre Church.  It was consecrated in 1147 and so pre-dates the Notre Dame Cathedral and the invention of the flying buttress. 

I have finally figured out how a flying buttress works.  It is NOT to support the roof as virtually all books claim.  It is to buttress the walls against the lateral forces caused by an arched roof structure.   Without buttresses, the walls splay outward under the lateral forces of the dome, as they do in the buttress-free Saint-Pierre Church.  I tried my darnedest to photograph the curvature, but it just didn’t show up.

Diane and I took the Metro back to BHV where we split up.  Diane bought a gift for one of the girls and I found the bathroom.  Although I know where it now is, I also know now to ask in French for “Toilet” rather than “Salle du Bain”.  Three salesclerks all directed me to bath wares when I asked for directions to the bathroom rather than to the toilet.

I decided I want an antique bicycle.  I want one of those things with fully mechanical levers for the brakes rather than cables, circa 1925.  I spent the afternoon wild-goose chasing bike shops.  I even encountered ones with weird French hours such as “closed between 1:00 and 3:30 PM”.  Did not find a bike.  Have to formulate a “Plan B” (am drawing a blank).

For the remainder of the afternoon and evening, I was at Bibliothèque Forney and Diane cleaned our spotless rental apartment in anticipation of guests.  She has even bleached the grout in the shower stall (if it were really that bad, my solution would have been to simply shower with the lights off).