My travels to Ferrara, Italy - Part I

Outside the cathedral in Ferrara, Italy

In honor of Ludovico Ariosto's 539th birthday on September 8, 2013, I felt I should start blogging about my recent trip to the city of Ferrara, Italy. I visited there in June of this year.

I wanted to see as many sites associated with Ariosto, Matteo Maria Boiardo and their patrons - the noble house of d'Este - as was possible for the limited time I had available.

I had spent countless hours planning the sites to see, but alas, things do not always work out the way you hope.

I discovered there were apartments for rent in a building once owned by Ariosto. I reserved a room for three nights.  My plan was to arrive in Ferrara after a day of sightseeing in Firenze, spend the next day exploring Ferrara, and the following day we would have a day trip to Ravenna.

I had wanted to sleep in a home that once belonged to Ariosto and hope I would become inspired by the experience.

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Historical marker for the current Cavallini-Sgarbi House

The Cavallini-Sgarbi House showing a covered walkway.

 
I was looking forward to that experience, but then Fate upended my plans.

Ferrara suffered from a large earthquake in 2012, and as luck would have it - the historical building I had reservations for wound up having maintenance scheduled to be performed during the time we were supposed to stay there.


These things happen. At least I learned about the conflict with adequate advance notice to secure a different place for us to stay. I am also grateful it was not a case of being At The Wrong Place At the Wrong Time and have something Truly Bad Happen, like the devastating earthquake that necessitated the seismic retrofitting. Instead, it was simply a disappointment and inconvenience for my family.

Here is an example of damage from the earthquake and the subsequent tremors has had in Ferrara. The picture is of a ceiling fresco in the Castello Estense.

 

I was surprised the first time I noticed tape on the ceiling, but then quickly understood why it was there. We asked a docent about the tape and our suspicions were confirmed as to its purpose. It is to prevent further cracking until restoration can be performed.

There was a lot of tape used throughout the castle on artwork. It serves as a sober reminder of how historical items are vulnerable to the power of Nature. They are not just pieces of art created centuries ago, but are precious items that need to be preserved for future generations.



We arrived in Ferrara on a Wednesday evening, but several hours later than we expected. Our connecting train in Bologna was late. Then again, most trains were late that day. One woman on the platform informed us that earlier in the day someone had thrown themselves upon a set of train tracks and it delayed all the trains in the region for at least an hour.

Once at the Ferrara train station, we had a taxi bring us to our B&B (bed and breakfast). It would have been a half hour walk, and dragging our luggage that far after being exhausted, and really hungry was not worth saving a few euros. Taking a taxi was a necessity and not a luxury at that point in time.

By the time we got to our room we were tired, our feet were sore from our sightseeing in Firenze and we were really hungry. The weather in Italy had been HOT for days and it added to our desire to find dinner, and go to sleep early in our air conditioned rooms.

My husband and son at that point in time were not all that interested in noticing the charms of Ferrara, but I came became revived once we left our baggage behind and started exploring the city. One aspect that I love about Ferrara is that it is a bicycle friendly city. There are cars and some Vespas, but bicycles seem to be the biggest method of transportation used by the people. They are not fine racing bikes, but instead generally old beat up bicycles with baskets on their front handle bars. They are utilitarian and get their riders from place to place over the cobblestone roads.

Rome has a frenetic energy about it which led me to the conclusion that traffic there is a blood sport. Crossing a busy street in Rome you must be wary. That sense of self-preservation extends to walking in the side streets as the drivers of cars and Vespas zoom past you with little regard to your safety. There were several occasions when I found myself hugging the walls in the back streets to avoid being hit by cars, scooters or motorcycles. Ferrara was a pleasant change of pace for me and I began to relax and appreciate the atmosphere of this historic city. 

We walked past the Piazza Ariostea and I was enchanted by the sight of a statue of Ariosto and the moon.

Here is a close up of the inscription on the statue.

That night we ate at a local pizza joint. It was "okay, nothing special." At least we were served quickly and it was not expensive. Afterward, we walked back to our B&B and slept soundly.

The next day was my day to explore Ferrara. My teenaged son decided that he just wanted to relax, sleep in and not go exploring. That meant I was free to roam around the city.

My husband and I started the morning by walking down the Corso Porta Mare and passing the Piazza Ariostea again.

I enjoyed walking in the park and gathering spot for locals that was built dedicated in honor of my favorite poet. We continued on the Corso Porta Mare until we came to Corso Ercole I d'Este, named after the patron for both Boiardo and Ariosto.

On that street is the famous building Palazzo dei Diamante. There are thousands of diamond shaped marble bricks covering the outside of this building. The shadows cast by the diamonds change during the day due to angle of the sunlight making the building a large and complex sun dial. It is a spectacular sight, even if it seems a bit disorienting at first.

An up-close image of the Palazzo dei Diamante and the Renaissance street Corso Ercole I d'Este.

My husband and I walked down the Corso Ercole I d'Este until we came to the heart of the Renaissance city. I had to make a quick stop to see a Piazza named for another poet who also worked for the noble house of d'Este.

Alas, this piazza was nothing more than a parking lot.

The Piazza Torquato Tasso

We soon made it to one of the big destinations for me: seeing the castle where the Estes family lived.

It is an impressive sight.

 

I shall continue my travelogue about Ferrara in another post, lest this become epic in size similar to the poems which inspire my writing.

http://lcmccabe.blogspot.com/2013/09/my-travels-to-ferrara-italy-part-i.html

Video from Redwood Writers 2009 Conference

Hello everyone,

It has been a long time since I last posted to my blog. I have been busy and to demonstrate this, I will share with you the fruits of my labor.

I finally discovered how to make a video and upload it to Youtube. I figured that since there are millions of videos on that site that I should also be able to accomplish this task as well.

Last fall my writers club held a writers conference in Santa Rosa, California.

I was fortunate to introduce our keynote speaker Tamim Ansary. He is a well respected writer in the San Francisco Bay Area, a bestselling author, and an endearing speaker.

I loved his books West of Kabul, East of New York and Destiny Disrupted: A History of the World through Islamic Eyes. They are profound and insightful and told in a readily accessible manner.

For those wondering what I look or sound like, you can watch me in action as I introduce Tamim Ansary.



Due to time limitations on Youtube, I broke his talk into four parts.

Part I



Part II



Part III



And Part IV

Bruniquel and the tragic story of Queen Brunehaut

Time for another massively long travel post filled with photography and anecdotes.


One of my favorite stories about my trip to France deals with our visit to the village of Bruniquel.

While plotting out locations for my novel I had a keen eye for those areas that were historically credible sites, but I had to make a few exceptions out of plot necessities. As I scanned the towns near Montauban in the Michelin Green Guide for the Languedoc Roussillon Tarn Gorges area, I noticed the listing for Bruniquel where Gregory of Tours mentioned this village in his History of the Franks regarding Queen Brunhilda. (The French name is Brunehaut, and in deference to townspeople of Bruniquel I shall use their preferred spelling unless I am quoting from a source that uses a different spelling.)

Brunehaut was a Visigothic princess (the daughter of King Athanagild) and married Sigebert, king of Austrasia and a grandson of Clovis.

The town of Bruniquel is named after Brunehaut who is credited for the town's founding.

I had read some about Bruniquel before our trip and had viewed the town's website, but I was unsure of whether or not there was anything still standing that dated back to the time period of Charlemagne (8th and 9th centuries) or even Brunehaut (6th and 7th centuries.)

Upon arriving at this hilltop village we went directly to the Tourist Office. I wanted to know whether or not there was any buildings or fortifications or anything that I could view that dated back to the time of Brunehaut. The office was staffed with one employee and as I entered I saw there were several other tourists.

I waited my turn to ask questions.

Then there was an elderly gentleman who began a conversation with the official. I did not understand much of what was being said, but I recognized that this was not going to be over quickly. The only way that I was going to be able to talk with the employee would be to interrupt and that would not go over well.

I also was unsure if the employee spoke any English.

I did not want to interrupt a conversation and speak in halting French to ask my questions. I thought that would have been the height of rudeness, and so rather than wait for what might have been fifteen minutes or so, I left the office and decided to just make my way to the top of the village to the castles.

Yes, the plural is correct. Castles.

There was a family dispute and this brought about competing castles built on the same site. And you think you have "issues" with your family or next door neighbors!

At the entrance to the village is a sign depicting an aerial view of those castles. Here is a photograph of that sign. It looks as though the town is on the river, but it is deceiving because this is another strategic hilltop town that overlooks a river.



The next photograph is of the history of the town written in three languages.

Pardon the shadow of the camera hand, but these pictures were taken in the afternoon and nothing could be done to eliminate some shadows appearing.



Here is a monument found at the base of the town across the road from the Tourist office. It is in commemoration of those who gave their lives in World War I and II and stands in front of the church.


We made our way up the narrow streets and continued to marvel at the beauty of the stone used in the town to create buildings that have lasted for centuries.


Once we were at the top of the hill we had to walk around the fortifications surrounding the castles until we could find the entrance. I was struck by the drama of a tree and other foliage growing over these walls as if Nature was trying to reclaim the area from Man.


Here is another view from outside the walls where vegetation has been allowed to grow without being cut down.



Here is a wall with arrow slits and the outside of one of the castles.


Here is a view of the Aveyron River from outside the village, but outside the castles.


Once inside the castle, we paid our entrance fee and were asked if we wanted a guided tour.

I then said, "Anglais, s'il vous plaît?"

The woman shook her head sadly and replied, "No, because my English is not that good."

I told her (in my best French) that I was writing a novel based on the legends of Charlemagne and was interested in anything before that time. I also mentioned that I wanted to know if anything stood that dated back to the time of Brunehaut.

As I mentioned Brunehaut's name, the woman's smile grew broader. The town is proud of this notorious woman from history.

She brought out an English language map of the site as well as a paper detailing its history, and suggested that after our tour that we should visit the town's museum the Maison Payrol.

I had not planned on going there because the description in the Michelin guide did not make it seem as if there would be much of interest to my time period. I thanked her, and then left to explore the castles.

After having been in Paris and Carcassonne where most of the historical sites were renovated, as well as Guédelon where a castle was under construction, I was a bit unprepared to see a site that had not been renovated. There were places that looked in dire need of repair.

Let us start with an ancient bread oven.


The glow is actually sunlight and not due to any red hot embers.

As we stepped outside we saw the remains of old domestic buildings.


Inside the shed is something for my fellow wine lovers: an old wine press. The better to squeeze you with my dear.


Here we get closer to what was labelled as the Salle des Chevaliers (or Knights Room) from the 13th Century.



Inside was a ruined fireplace and hearth.


Here is a view into the courtyard and you can see one of the castles in the background. If you notice, the pillars are decorated with fantastic animals.


Here is a close up of one pillar.



I think it might be depicting a griffin due to the wings, but the facial features look more like that of a donkey than a bird, however the legs look distinctly avian-like. Even the hind legs.

Has anyone ever heard of a four legged bird? Even the fantastical beasts?

Either way, when I zoom in and analyze the picture it appears that the creature depicted is male.

Here's a view of another pillar with animals.

I think it is of a monkey standing on the back of something with legs bent in unnatural angles.

I do not know what the creature on the left is, but it appears to have four legs, feathers and male.

Any medieval bestiary experts out there who can tell me what kind of beasts they think are depicted on these pillars?

Moving along, here is a sign showing the outlines of the various structures within the confines of the fortified walls as well as a brief history.


There is a square in the center which is identified as the Keep or the Donjon.

Here is the sign outside of that structure denoting that it was named after Queen Brunehaut even though it was constructed centuries after her death.


From the inside of the Donjon looking up.


The Keep is on the left hand side of this picture and on the right is the outside of the New castle and in the center is a tower from the old castle.


Here is a better picture of the old castle. It appears to be in pretty good shape from the outside.


Ah, but the inside is not as pretty. I am not altogether sure what this thing was used for, but it is rusty and looks decrepit.



Here is another area that does not look inviting to me.



The castles in Bruniquel are used by the community to showcase artwork. Here you can see photographs displayed that were part of an exhibit of "ghost photography."

If you look closely you might be able to see spirits.




Into another portion of the castle there was a mural on crumbling plaster.



From the vantage point of an upstairs window you can look down upon the Salle des Chevaliers and the roof of the shed that held the wine press.
From another window facing a different direction you can look down upon the Aveyron River.


I believe that the following pictures were taken from the "new castle." You can see that the floor for the second story has been removed. Otherwise why else would there be a fireplace in mid air?

Here is another floating fireplace and the post holes from the missing flooring are evident. You can also see artwork hung by a pipe and chains under the hearth with care.


After touring the castles I wanted to ask a few more questions of the woman who I had spoken with earlier. I was disappointed when I saw someone else at her window.

We then walked through the streets of Bruniquel to find La Maison Payrol and saw this beautiful house along the way.


I was surprised when we arrived at the museum to find that the woman I had wanted to ask a few more questions was there. She was waiting for us.

She took me upstairs and showed some handwritten notes about Queen Brunehaut.

I was told about the road outside Bruniquel was known as "La Voie Romaine et le Chemin de la Reine" and she thought it might be from Cahors to possibly Albi.

For those who are unaware of the history of Queen Brunehaut, it is one of revenge, violence, fratricide, repeated assassination attempts and ultimately a tragic death.

Brunehaut as mentioned previously was the daughter of King Athanagild of the Visigoths and married Sigebert who was king of Austrasia. Gregory of Tours described her as "a maiden beautiful in her person, lovely to look at, virtuous and well­behaved, with good sense and a pleasant address."

She was so impressive that Sigebert's brother Chilperic, king of Nuestria, wanted to know if Brunehaut had a sister. He wanted someone just as beautiful and refined to be his queen. King Athanagild then sent his daughter Galsuenda to be married to Chilperic.

The problem was that in order for Chilperic to wed Galsuenda, he had to put away his previous wives. One of which was a woman named Fredegunde.

The marriage of Chilperic and Galsuenda did not last very long. It appears that she did not like his dalliances with other women and she wanted to go back to her father. That did not happen. Instead, she was found strangled and Chilperic was soon remarried to Fredegunde.

This led to a decades long feud between Brunehaut and Fredegunde.

Brunehaut was later awarded her sister's dowry since Galsuenda died an unnatural death.

And as to the cities, namely, Bordeaux, Limoges, Cahors, Lescar, and Cieutat, which it is well known that Galsuntha, lady Brunhilda's sister, acquired as dowry or morganegyba, that is, morning gift, when she came into Francia, and which lady Brunhilda is known to have acquired by the decision of the glorious lord king Gunthram (a third brother and king of Burgundy) and of the Franks when Chilperic and king Sigibert were still alive, it is agreed that the lady Brunhilda shall have as her property from today the city of Cahors with its lands and all its people, but the other cities named lord Gunthram shall hold while he lives... Gregory of Tours History of the Franks, Book Nine in the Twelfth year of King Childebert: 20

And this is where Bruniquel comes from because of the proximity to Cahors which is approximately 55 kilometers away.

A war was fought between the brothers Sigebert and Chilperic, and Sigebert died at the hands of assassins sent by his brother.

The widowed Brunehaut became regent for her son Childebert II who was only four at the time of his father's death. According to Gregory of Tours, King Chilperic kept Brunehaut in exile in Rouen at this time.

Chilperic was betrayed by his son Merovech who left his military detail to go to Brunehaut, who he then secretly married. The nephew marrying his uncle's widow was considered to be incestuous and Chilperic put an end to the marriage and forced his wayward son into a monestary and then a series of intrigues which resulted in Merovech asking someone to kill him lest he fall into his enemies' hands. Gregory of Tours wrote, "There were some at the time who said that Merovech's words, which we have just reported, were an invention of the queen (Fredegunda), and that Merovech had been secretly killed at her command."

Gregory of Tours documented plots and counterplots between Brunehaut and Fredegunde as well as plots and counterplots with other Frankish nobles, but alas Gregory died before he could chronicle the end of Queen Brunehaut's life.

She wound up being regent of Austrasia three times: first for her son Childebert II, second for her grandson Théodebert II, and later for her great-grandson Sigebert II.

Brunehaut is reputed to have built many churches over the years and fixed old Roman roads, but she also crossed many nobles and created enemies.

Even after Fredegunde's death, Brunehaut's archenemy still had a role to play. Fredegunde's son Clotaire exacted the downfall of his mother's nemesis.

Fearing Brunehaut's coming to power once again as regent on behalf of her great-grandson Sigebert II, Clotaire brought together a meeting of the nobles and he accused his aunt of heinous crimes. They sided with him and she was tortured and then put to death.

She died at the age of seventy nine.

Seventy nine.

Just when you think that no one lived all that long in the middle ages, you find examples such as Charlemagne and Brunehaut living long and full lives.

I asked the grande dame who was showing us the museum how Queen Brunehaut died because I had seen conflicting reports. I wanted to know if she had been drawn and quartered.

The lady shook her head vigorously. "No. She was dragged to her death on the back of a horse."

Which was the other version I had seen.

I then wanted to know where she was put to death.

Bruniquel.


And Normandy, as well as Brussels.

She laughed and I realized that Brunehaut's body had not been transported from one site to another and dragged again, it was that this story was so dramatic that multiple places wanted to claim the distinction of having been the site of her death.

Look again at this image from the top of the page and read the bottom lines if you can understand French.




En 613, CLOTAIRE II, le fils de FREDEGONDE, condamne BRUNEHAUT à périr attachée à la queue d’un cheval indompte.

La légende veut que ce supplice eut lieu à BRUNIQUEL, sur la <>, à l’ouest du village.

--
My own translation:

In 613, Clotaire II, the son of Fredegonde, condemned Brunehaut to die by attaching her to the tail of a horse.

The legend is that the torture took place in Bruniquel on the red road west of the village.

--



I then suggested that there was another legend of the death happening in Paris, but she shook her head.

Upon arriving back home and I had time to referred to some of my notes that I realized why I thought Brunehaut might have died in Paris. I had read that in Robert Cole's A Traveler's History of Paris.

The chronicles relate that she was taken prisoner, 'reproached' with responsibility for the death of ten kings. She was then set on a camel for three days to be mocked and insulted by the army, after which she was tied to the tail of a horse 'which was lashed into a fury.' Soon all that remained of Brunhild was 'a shapeless mass of carrion,' as Thomas Okey described it with something less than delicacy. Tradition places the execution at the corner where Rue Saint-Honoré meets Rue de l'Arbre Sec. page 18

Here are two different depictions of Brunehaut being executed. The first makes her appear as if starch were applied quite liberally throughout her body.

Talk about stiff.

And the legs are disporportionately long as well. (Did she get put on the Rack first?)

Grandes Chroniques de France, XIV°, Bibliothèque Nationale.

This next one shows more realism as well as drama. However, the body does not seem like it belongs to a seventy-nine year old woman.

Histoire de France, by François GUIZOT 1875

This tragic story of power, assassinations, and assassination plots as well as a brutal execution demonstrated to me the stark difference between historical reality of being in a royal family over the "prince and princess stories" fed to children as an idyllic life.

Think of the story of Brunehaut the former Visigothic princess the next time you see a little girl dressed up in a pink frilly Disney princess dress. Although I do not suggest you tell the girl the story of Brunehaut and Fredegonde, just keep that as your own inner monologue.

In retrospect, I wish I had asked to take a picture of the woman who was so kind to me.

Her grasp of English was better than my grasp of French and we communicated by talking as much as we could in each other's language. It is when either of us could not come up with words we needed that we resorted to using our own own tongues. Somehow in the middle we were able to have a meaningful conversation.

She had finished her day working at the castles and waited for me at the museum so that she could share the history of her village. That is a kindness that I shall remember for years.

The time spent in Bruniquel is one of my fondest memories of my trip to France and it is one that I mention when asked about the hospitality we received by the French people.

Tuesday afternoon in Paris: A park, a museum, two churches and a monument

I have so much more to share with everyone about my trip to France, so bear with me as I juggle with other commitments for my time to bring forth my anecdotes and share pictures.

Previously, I posted about a morning well spent at the Institut du Monde Arabe. We left there feeling quite hungry. I wanted to purchase food for a nice picnic lunch and eat at an historic site on the way to the next place on my itinerary.

We crossed the Seine again, and passed through the Isle Saint Louis, and came to the right bank. Paris is an amazing city filled with life and art everywhere you turn.

Here is a small garden park that we came across. It is the Jardin de l'Hotel de Sens.


We found a small bakery and bought two baguette sandwiches with meat and cheese, then we bought some grapes from a grocer. Using our Frommer's map we navigated our way to the Place des Vosges and enjoyed our lunch Parisian style. It was a popular spot with many other people picnicking as well. It was therefore also popular with pigeons.

Unfortunately, we were enjoying ourselves and happy to sit and relax that we forgot to take pictures of that famous landmark. For those unfamiliar with the Place des Vosges, you can see images here. According to an official Paris Monuments webpage:

"Paris' original attempt at urban planning, the Place des Vosges is now its oldest square. The square symmetry of the square, with its ground floor arcade, consists of 39 (some say 36) houses - each made of red brick with stone facings. Its construction was under Henri IV from 1605 - 1612. The site was originally occupied by the Hôtel des Tournelles."

--

It is also reportedly the same site where King Henri II met his untimely demise. He took part in a joust and a sliver from a lance pierced one of his eyes which led to his death a few days later. Accidents happen, even to royalty.

The reason I wanted to see the Place des Vosges was more than to find an oasis in the middle of a metropolitan city. It was to help me comprehend the size and scope of the area inside the ancient city walls of Paris. That park was near the extent of the walls built by Philippe August on the right bank.

The fortifications for Paris changed over the centuries and it poses difficulty for me as a novelist. I am adapting classic poems which were written during the Italian Renaissance by poets who were terrible historians and worse geographers. One of the biggest challenges is deciding when to correct their historical errors, and when to include historical inaccuracies because to change them would be to open up the plot to extraordinary complications.

The walls of Medieval Paris have been one of those headaches for me.

That leads me to our next destination the Musée Carnavelet. This museum is dedicated to the history of Paris and has many artifacts through the ages.

Boiardo and Ariosto did not realize that during the time of Charlemagne that the only fortifications protecting Paris surrounded the Isle de la Cité.

Here are two images of Paris showing the Isle de la Cité as well as the populated left bank and largely vacant right bank. This is the Roman city of Lutecia.

As you can see there are a lot of potential targets for looting and sacking by invading armies.

That is what happened when the Vikings attacked Paris in the ninth century. They ransacked the left bank.

Now look at a map that is in the public domain of Medieval Paris surrounded by fortified walls.



My plot is complicated enough without the invading Saracen army having the ability to sack the left bank. So after a lot of mental gymnastics about the matter, I decided to keep the protective walls around Paris for my story even though they were not there during the time of Charlemagne. There will be a disclaimer, but after all, I am telling an epic tale about a war that never took place so I will need to have a little poetic license as well as some historical latitude to tell the tale.

I was also interested in jewelry and artifacts from the Merovingian period.




One thing that disappointed me was finding out that the wing dedicated to the Medieval period was closed for renovation. In order for me to get to the area with the prehistoric and Gallo-Roman period, we had to pass through the ages. I simply did not have time to pay any attention to the French Revolution, or even the Hundred Years War as I was focused on seeing as much as I could in the short time I had in Paris.

Our next stop was the church of Saint-Gervais-Saint-Protais on the right bank near Hotel de Ville. There has been a church on this site since the seventh century, although it is hard to see if there are any remnant of that previous time left standing. The outside shows three different columns. The bottom level is Doric, the second is Ionic, the topmost is Corinthian.




This church also had pointed Gothic arches and stained glass



as well as murals and statues.


We left there with still some time to spare before places closed for the night. We headed back to the Isle de la Cité and the Conciergerie. This was the site of the palace for the Merovingian kings. I had hoped to see something like "Clovis slept here," but that was not to be. As you enter the building you go into the ground floor to the Salle des Gens d'Armes.


The sign tells the story that this room dates to the 14th century and that it is the oldest surviving medieval hall in Europe.


The focus of the monument is its role as a prison during the French Revolution and that Marie Antoinette was one of their most famous prisoners. That was interesting, but that was not the time period I wanted to know about. I asked one of the women in the gift shop if she might answer a few of my questions, and she tried.

I told her that what I really wanted was to see anything that dated back to the Merovingian times, and would love to see where any chambers that once belonged to Clovis. She said that if any still existed it was not open to the public.

Sigh.

So that left me with knowing the place the palace and the citadel would have been, but not seeing what it looked like. I did not see any historical images, drawings, etc. of what it may have looked during the time of the Merovingian kings. (I mention the dynasty prior to the Carolingian kings since Paris was not favored by Charlemagne and he did not make it one of his palaces.)

C'est la vie. That means that because it is no longer there, I have to allow myself to create what works best for my plot needs.

The last stop we made that day was for the joy of seeing stained glass. Sainte-Chapelle is a small church nestled in the middle of the Palais du Justice compound. Here is the impressive looking exterior.



Here is a short history from the official Paris Monuments page:

"Built by Louis IX in the 1240's to house relics from the Holy Land believed to be the Crown of Thorns and part of the True Cross, this small gothic chapel is one of the inspiring visual experiences of Paris. Much of this is due to its stained glass windows which essentially surround the entire upper floor.

The chapel itself is now surrounded by the Palais of Justice on the Ile de la Cité near Notre Dame. It has two "tiers", the first one at ground level being rather dark and close, the second one having radiant tall windows, as well as a small balcony."

The ground level of the church seems dark, and I would wonder why anyone during the Middle Ages would choose to worship on the ground floor of Sainte-Chapelle when they could have gone to Notre Dame. Or even Saint-Gervais-Saint-Protais.

The first floor serves as the gift shop.

For those who were nobility and were allowed to venture up the spiral staircase to the second floor, your eyes could feast upon the colors radiating the room from the glorious stained glass .



Then it was back to our hotel, take a short rest before heading out in search of dinner. That is a story in and of itself for next time.

Until then...

Linda