Wednesday, 24 September 2025, Paris, Chez Papa

Written 4 February 2026

From Google maps, I couldn't spot any place to have lunch that was actually near Notre Dame de Paris, and David did not want to hike across a whole bridge to get there from lunch on the left bank, so we decided to buy ourselves a picnic at an excellent bakery just a couple of doors from the hotel and take it with us. We planned to sit on benches, planters, or whatever was available to eat, then stroll around to see as much of the exterior as we could before presenting ourselves at the door at 1:45 pm to go inside. We didn't expect to be able to walk all the way around, as cranes and construction fencing are still set up around the eastern end.

Accordingly, I went on line yesterday afternoon to check what time the bakery opened, and discovered their ordering system! You can place your order ahead of time, pay with a credit card or PayPal, then pick it up the next day. Alas, they didn't have our favorite butter and raw ham sandwiches, but I ordered a couple of baguettes stuffed with roast beef, arugula, mayo, and Parmesan, and pastries for dessert. They promised to email me when the order is ready for pick-up—presumably early-ish in the morning, since I got the impression last year that a lot of people pick up lunch there on the way to work. Sure enough, about 7:20 am they emailed that the last component of our order was en route to the pick-up point (i.e., the bakery near our hotel). This tells me that part of our order (probably the sandwiches) is made elsewhere and brought in for pick-up and sale. So around 8:30 am, when I hadn't received any further notification, I went back to the "en route" message and clicked on "track my order," but I couldn't interpret the results—did "retiré" mean "already picked up" or "pulled from stock"? Did "terminé" mean "completed" or "cancelled"?

So I strolled over there to inquire. My order was ready and waiting, neatly packed in a little shopping bag with napkins, and because it met the criteria for ordering two "formules," I got two free drinks to go with it! And I determined, through Google street views, that a set of bleachers are actually available on the parvis who want just to sit and look at the façade.

But then (rats!) the weather didn't cooperate. The temperature had dropped, and at least one source said it was going to rain all day. We had hoped to leave our coats and hats behind, and I planned to bring just my bottle sling rather than the whole Bagallini purse, because the Notre Dame website asks that everyone go minimal to expedite security checks. But picnicking on the parvis in the rain at 52°F did not sound like fun, and we will definitely need our coats. And there are no taxi ranks within an easy walk of the church, so getting back to the hotel afterwards will involve hailing a taxi, in the rain, in or near a mob scene. (We're spending a fortune on taxis this year—we usually ride the metro and the buses, but with David's injured foot, we can't do all the walking and stairs that entails. So far taxis have proved more practical than Uber, but that may change today.)

In the end, though, the whole thing was a piece of cake. It was still raining at noon, so we ate our picnic in the hotel room. Here it is, both all bagged up and all laid out for the photo: L to R, two half-liters of Evian, two roast beef sandwiches, David's chausson aux pommes, and my chocolate almond croissant (boy, was that rich).

We then got a taxi to Notre Dame at about 1 pm, earlier than we needed to, because I was paranoid about not missing our reservation time. The rain stopped before we got there. The parvis was busy with people but not nearly as crowded as I expected. (And, of course, I could see a couple of up and running eateries just around the corner.) We looked around for the 1:45 pm queue but found only two—one for people with reservations (about 20 people long) and one for those without (maybe 150 people long). We cheerfully shoved our 1:45 pm QR codes under the reader at 1:20 pm and were ushered right into the church, along with a steady stream of those without reservations! We walked through some sort of metal-detector-type arch, but they didn't even look at our bags, and all my electronics didn't set off any detectors.

Notre Dame has truly been reborn. It used to be so ugly. We visited it on some early trip to Paris, and I found it squat, black, and unappealing, not so much a blot as a toad on the landscape. Black on the inside and on the outside, and not a uniform, attractive black either.

Amazing how tall and slender it looks now that it's uniformly cream-colored, inside and out. We worked our way around the deambulatory, in the direction indicated on all the signs, then sat in chairs in the center for a while, just taking in the view. Plenty of seats were available.

Here are the two rose windows in the transepts (the central one over the west door is blocked by the pipe organ).

And here are the rows of saints and other personages below them. For some (probably good theological) reason, one has eight pairs and the other nine.

The lighting of the interior was beautiful but unfortunately, not quite sufficient for snapshot photography. Or maybe my camera's autofocus just wasn't up to snuff that day. I had a lot of trouble getting clear, nonblurry shots the whole time.

Written 5 February 2026

I did manage to get good shots of some haphazardly chosen sections of the famous carved and painted reliefs (those that I could see through the crowd and get the camera to focus on).

At the left here, in the center, you can see Joseph leading the donkey on which Mary and the baby are riding, while behind them, innocents are being slaughtered at a king's feet.

At the right, three more scenes from Jesus' life. A better bible scholar than I can probably recognize them.

Below the parts of the reliefs are these painted inscriptions, which I think identify the current (or historic?) holder of the corresponding choir stall.

Here, at the left, is the elaborately carved wooden pulpit.

On the way back toward the exit, I took this view of the organ and what we were able to see of the west rose window behind it.

Once back outside, we checked, and as expected, you couldn't walk more than a few yards down either side toward the rear before hitting a construction fence.

Here's one of the portals, restored to its pristine, pale, and detailed glory.

We walked to Rue de la Cité, at the far end of the parvis, where I got this shot of the façade with fewer cranes in it. And, just as yesterday in front of the Petit Palais, hailed a vacant taxi within the first 10 seconds. The rain started to patter on the taxi's windshield halfway back to the hotel. Perfect timing.

So, Rachel, I take it back. It is a beautiful building; I just couldn't see it through all the soot.

We planned a less formal (and earlier) dinner for our last night, at Chez Papa on the Blvd. Voltaire. This time, we remembered past experiences and skipped the starters. We went straight to a single order of cassoulet to share. I forgot to photograph it, but have a look at the end of my diary page for 17 September 2004 for one just like it. We were able to finish it off and still have room for dessert. David got fromage blanc with Basque black cherry jam, and I had Armagnac-laced prune ice cream.

Both were delicious and just what we wanted!

And of course, no travelog about Paris would be complete without a photo of a space invader. This is only one of many, many we encountered in our perambulations. People have created whole maps of them and websites about them. Fun!