We started the morning as French as we could by grabbing a crumpet and espresso at a nearby patisserie. Followed by a stroll through the Luxembourg Gardens. We were there around 9:00am and had the place pretty much to ourselves.
Whit requested macaroons while in Paris. That was his first day (and every day) breakfast
Elizabeth's Latte
Next we visited the Pantheon. Originally a church, converted to a shrine to the French Revolution. Beneath the pantheon are the crypts holding the remains of some of those most revered by the French. Voltaire, Dumas, Madame Currie, Hugo, and Josephine Baker amongst many others. I used this stop to tell EK&W about the French Revolution, Sandy talked about Joan of Arc. I think Sandy held there interest long
The pendulum that shows the Earths Rotation at the Pantheon
We had an Ice Cream lunch at the famous Glacier, Berthilion on the Île Sainte-Lous while biding our time waiting for entrance into Saint Chapelle.
After lunch we stepped into Sainte-Chapelle. Tucked on Île de la Cité, this 13th-century Gothic gem was built by King Louis IX to house the Crown of Thorns and other relics. Though modest in size, its soaring stained-glass walls create a jewel-box of light.
The moment we climbed the narrow winding stairs to the upper chapel, the Grands were interested. Though, like everything else in Paris this time of year the place was crowded, the space was still remarkable. With fifteen towering windows—each a vivid Biblical tableau—bathed the space in reds, blues, and golds. Elizabeth, who has an artist’s eye especially appreciated the beauty of the windows and the light it cast on the room.
History lessons came naturally: how the chapel survived revolutions and fires, and once sat beside the royal palace. “So kings literally lived next door?” one grandson asked, eyes wide. “And stored relics here like treasure?” Yes—and that made medieval history feel surprisingly cool.
Of course, the Elizabeth and Katharyne made some art of their own. As selfies bloomed against the rose window’s kaleidoscopic effect.
Sainte-Chapelle isn’t just another stop on the Parisian circuit—it’s where ancient stories glow in colored light, and modern teenagers discover the perfect selfie.
After Saint Chapelle our destination was Notre Dame, but then a Parisian Plot Twist. Ah, Paris—the city of light, love, and the occasional unexpected evacuation.
We had it all planned. Notre-Dame de Paris, with reserved entry times, cameras charged, and three teenage grandchildren surprisingly on board for some more Gothic architecture. The iconic cathedral, rising from the heart of Île de la Cité, was finally open again after years of restoration. We were ready!
And then… Paris reminded us who's boss.
Just as we approaching the main gate—reservations in hand, excitement rising—the uniformed officers (military not Genarmes) appeared. Firm but calm, they began directing everyone out of and away from the cathedral. At first, it seemed like a temporary shuffle. But then came the line in French: “Au moins une heure… mais on ne sait pas.”
At least an hour. Maybe more. Possibly less. Or maybe never. Classic Parisian mystery.
Within minutes, the entire square was cleared. We tourists drifted in uncertainly until the five of us decided to escape the milling crown and the pounding heat and headed back to our air-conditioned hotel.
We had a dinner at an Chateau de St. Michel a restaurant specializing alpine cuisine.
Katharyne then came up with an extraordinary plan. After relaxing at the hotel for several hours we headed down to chocolatier, stocked up candy, and sat with the students of the Sorbonne along the rivers edge. I think we all felt a little French at that moment.
Spending the evening on the Seine
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