Sacre-Coeur

Sacre-Coeur is a basilica that sits up on a hill in the section of Paris known as Montmartre. This is a cute little town, quaint but unfortunately overrun by tourist predators waiting around to sketch less-than-Louvre-worthy portraits. Despite this minor distraction (and the mass crowds), the town is filled with cafes, shops and stunning views of Paris.

From the steps of the great basilica, one can see straight to the Eiffel Tower over the tops of the buildings reflecting the fading sunlight. But the most amazing thing was the basilica itself. Once I stepped inside, through the enormous doors, everything became still and silent. There are guards inside, preventing tourists from taking pictures, which made the experience that much more rewarding.

I didn’t mind not being able to take pictures because it forced me to enjoy the beauty instead of trying to capture it on film. I walked around the edges of the church, humbled by my surroundings, and encountered an old woman draped over a statue in the back, mumbling prayers in sad French. Candles flickered everywhere, casting everything in an eerie golden light. Massive stone pillars were spaced throughout, structures too big for two people to stand on either side, wrap their arms around them and touch hands. I sat in a pew, let the magnitude wash over me, even said a prayer while gazing at the dome overhead that was letting sunlight spill in. Then, back to the crowds, the cameras snapping furiously, the real world.