Our last stop of our first afternoon in Paris was Notre Dame. Like the rest of the city's embarrassing treasure trove of architecturally-stunning, detail-rich buildings, this beautiful gothic-style cathedral, completed in 1345, was gorgeous.
The long line-up to get in moved quickly - but gave us enough time to admire the razor-sharp exterior details - from the rose window to the sculptures. The inside was just as beautiful, with its tall ceilings, lovely cross vaults and stained-glass windows.
Ma and I lit a candle each and said a prayer for Pa. Minutes later, a late-afternoon mass started and the priests were greeted with papparazi-like flashing cameras as they marched in a single row onto the stage.
By this time, we were all pretty damn fucking exhausted - having been up for 34 hours and jetlagged. I started to lurch and drag my feet like Victor Hugo's famed fictional hunchback. After grabbing satisfyingly greasy food at a Chinese restaurant, we crashed in bed at 8:30 for a long-awaited 12-hour slumber.
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