Revitalized by our lunch at the Crêperie Josselin in the 14e, S. and I set out to walk to Île de la Cité - where Notre Dame is, but also the location of a yoga studio we wanted to check out. This was no small stroll, but there was lots to see along the way (including, curiously, several Nepalese and Tibetan clothing stores and restaurants).
We passed through the Latin Quarter, meandering through the winding pedestrian-only streets past restaurants and specialty food shops. Suddenly the Crêperie Josselin seemed like a long time ago! A Tunisian pâtisserie caught my eye, with its window displays of brightly colored cubed confections and pastries dripping with syrupy honey. Suddenly, eureka! I spied rahat loukoume, a dessert that I was first exposed to at one of our after-concert cocktails at the music festival I worked for in Normandy in 2009. The loukoumes and other "Turkish delights" had been so delightful, that I made a point of remembering the name so that I could seek it out again someday.
The texture of loukoume can best be compared to Japanese mochi - chewy, sweet, and dusted with powder. Out of a choice between citron (lemon), pistache (pistachio) and rose, we picked one big rose-flavored cube to split. The best pleasure 1euro50 can buy!
We continued onto the Île de la Cité, walking past the throngs waiting to get into Notre Dame cathedral. Since 1) I hate lines, 2) I hate spending time at touristy spots, and 3) I visited the cathedral with a tour group when I first visited France my sophomore year of high school, Notre Dame is definitely not on my list of places I need to go this time around. I'll go ahead and offer a 4) and say that: 4) I've always kind of felt that once you've seen a few old Gothic cathedral, you've got the basic idea...
We also happened upon le Mémorial de la Shoah, so we decided to go in. It's a stunning memorial: you descend via stairs into a high-walled courtyard with spiked bars attached to the wall facing the Seine. Then you enter a chamber where an eternal light is glowing, and quotes from major French thinkers and writers about humanity and loss figure prominently on the walls in rough, spiky black script. There is a long corridor you can look down (but not enter) with what look like shelves of glistening marbles; I took them to represent all the French (Jews, political activists, gays, and others) people who were deported by the Nazi and the Vichy regime. I found the whole experience to be very moving, and thought it one of the most well-done monuments I've been to.
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