Secrets travel fast..

The week started out with a trip to Malmaison, the "modest" home and retreat of the imperial couple and ultimately Josephine's place of exile. But if we were to rewind a bit, we would find the author exploring her new neighborhood, hoping to discover potential haunts. It was in this setting that I saw my first Parisian cockroach, excuse me, cafard. It began as a simple hunger for Chinese food. I found a little place that looked tasty and inexpensive, with a second floor so I could look out onto the street and read Hugo in peace. Just as I finished my last crevette, something scuttled across the table. Er. I shooed it away from me with my napkin and it made haste towards the edge of my table, under a ledge that ran along the wall. I picked up my stuff and shook it out to make sure that there wasn't anything hiding in it. Then I did something I wish I hadn't: I looked under the ledge. Yes, it's what you're thinking. Several of them. Crawling all over each other and making cockroach love. My elbow had been there only moments ago. I left, not knowing whether to inform the staff or if they would even care. Unfortunately, I don't have a picture to commemorate my experience. Whatever, I'll go back.

Malmaison is not as impressive as you would think.

I mean, an Emperor lived there, but I guess I expected something grander. The rooms are surprisingly modest in size and lack the grandiosity of say, Napoleon III's apartments. Sometimes I cant's help but compare Napoleon to Augustus, although this is probably not a remarkable parallelism on my part. Although I think Augustus was definitely more astute when it came to image..or maybe not.

From the reading, I had this gorgeous chateau (grrr Blogger, why do you hate circumflexes?) complete with wild lush gardens in my head. Maybe it was just too gloomy out for me to really get the force of it. To be sure, my mom would dig the Empire style: her bedroom sports the requisite dark woods and Egyptian theme, although probably a little too Bed, Bath, and Beyond to qualify as such.

After discussion in the classroom with Paul on Tuesday, Sara and I decided to walk from the Institut to Sacré Coeur. I know, we're so cool. We walked up Sebastopol most of the way and went through what must have been the Weave/Nail District to be followed by the Hideous Bridal Gown/Prom Dress quartier. By the time we reached Sacré Coeur, it was just before sunset and. it. was. beautiful. I mean, first we had to bypass the entourage of guys trying to grab our hands so they could tie friendship bracelets around our wrists...and then the massive group of Italian? Spanish? students that were conducting some sort of experiment with giant dice on the slope between the steps...and then the group of tourists that were egging on the musical stylings of a couple of musicians that knew a whole lot of Bob Marley and Dylan covers. But then, by golly, that view was somethin' else.

The inside of the basilica is indescribable. I actually started reconsidering Christianity (well...). We had a chance to sit on part of Vespers and..what can I say? The atmosphere, the sounds of the nuns voices...It was very moving.

Wednesday was in the Louvre with Suzanne again. We had a pretty major set-back when we realized that the room housing Rubens's Marie de Medici's cycle was closed. However, this didn't stop Suzanne from attempting to lecture us in separate groups while trying to peer into the room, despite the constant reproach of a museum worker. It was definitely a disappointment to all. Later, we moved to David's Sacré and discussed its' significance in relation to Rubens, as well as its' mercantile significance.

This week we explored the Métro with Paul. Actually, today was my favorite site visit. I don't know if it's the appeal of the underground or the awesomeness of Guimard, or perhaps that we were discussing a time period that holds a lot of interest for me. Regardless, it made me somewhat regret my vow to take the subway as little as possible in order to save money and see the city (above ground).