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A Tale of Two Bridges

3/25/2015

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Two bridges.
  One country.
Two thousand years of history.
 
Thousands of years apart, yet each light years ahead of the pack.
Only in France can you drive just a bit over 100 miles to discover
the crossroads that will raise the hair on the back of your neck.
At this intersection of Rome and Geek, you'll
experience
2,000 years of history and achievement on one simple journey.


Le Viaduc de Millau, opened in 2004, marries art with function.
In stark similarity, Rome's finest effort, the Pont du Gard,
was built somewhere around the first century AD.

Amazingly, these timeless landmarks stand
just 119 miles away from one other. 

Centuries apart, both are monuments to mankind's ingenuity and gumption.
  And they pepper our desire to see what's around the next bend
on our intoxicating travels in France.

"Only in France" is a phrase I use often, a maxim truly
earned in this analogy of the seminal bridges.
  France can tell a story like no other and here French legend is
  mirrored in two disparate frames that span twenty centuries. 

20 centuries!

  It's a connection to history and a journey you'll never forget.

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Imagine yourself tooling down the A75 in southern France trying to
get from Paris to, say, Montpellier in the Languedoc or Barcelona, Spain.

You've passed through the green center of France and by-passed
busy Clermont Ferrand, anxious to get to your destination.
Just when you think the scenery can't get any lovelier, you come across the
  Tarn River Valley, a corner of France where the windswept Causse Noir
meets the old city of Millau, often described as the crossroads
   between east and west, north and south.

  Out of the blue, like the mythical Phoenix, it rises,
 the suspension bridge to end all bridges,
  le Viaduc de Millau.

A piece of art within the landscape.

Revered by architects and engineers alike -- as well as art lovers,
sports enthusiasts and history junkies, this mind-bending overpass
connects the capitol of France with its favorite southern holiday destinations.
  For years, traffic was critically congested in this popular crossroads
so France and her taxpaying citizens took on the task of
improving the quality and speed of transportation.
And of course, true to form, they sought to add in a bit of
Gallic flair to make sure it met the robust French criteria
of form (beauty) and function (utility).
Taste and panache in equal measure with practicality and convenience.

  Opened in December 2004, the architect, Sir Norman Foster,
hoped motorists would feel as if they're flying by car. 
Sir Norman got it right.
Only in France....

One part artistic masterpiece, one part progressive architecture,
one part revolutionary engineering = The Right Stuff.

The tallest bridge in the world (1122 feet tall, higher than the Eiffel Tower),
this feat of human over-achievement spans 1.5 miles across the Tarn River Valley. 
  Your kids will stop asking "When are we getting there?"

  Before they beg "Let's do it again!", remember there's a toll involved.
But then again, the effect is priceless.
  A full minute and a half where your childhood dream to
flap your wings and soar like a bird come true.
Only in France ......

  And the futuristic design and engineering?
  Even George Jetson would have been envious.


"If you were born without wings, do nothing to prevent them from growing."
Coco Chanel

It's tough to take in on the first go-round -- the wild landscape,
the elegant "sails" of the bridge, and the majesty of the experience....
But luckily there is a viewing platform so you can
stop to appreciate what you just witnessed.

  Aladdin's magic carpet ride could not have been much better.

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Let's face it.
To borrow a phrase,
"To boldly go where no one has gone before"
is the mission of every traveler.
So when offered the opportunity to act out two bucket-list fantasies
in one day, you're likely to jump at the chance.


"If I leave here tomorrow
Would you still remember me
For I must be travelin' on now
There's too many places I got to see
....
and the chorus goes on .....'cause I'm free as a bird now...."
Read more: Lynyrd Skynyrd - Free Bird Lyrics | MetroLyrics
written by: Ronnie Van Sant & Allen Collins


Make like a bird and cross the Viaduc du Millau.


From 21st century marvel to Roman derring-do, let's move on
to the Roman Empire ---- practically next door.

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It's good to know that in France, you're always on a bridge that's going somewhere.

Rome had been in Provence since the 2nd century BC.
  Provence has only been part of France for some 500 years.
So it should come as no surprise to anyone that much of France's
best architecture began with Rome, her soldiers and her slaves,
sheer will and exceptional foresight -- and that thing we call good planning.

The Romans were good at infrastructure.
  They left behind their gift for matchless technique and
brilliant construction that has lasted and lasted.
Mon Dieu, did it ever!

The Pont du Gard, listed as a UNESCO World Heritage Site, is astonishing. 
How it has stood up to the ravages of time, floods and
human indignities is beyond my comprehension.
  Three tiers of  arches line up to form the famous aqueduct which
originally carried water some 30 miles from the Eure
nearby all the way to the Roman outpost at Nimes.

  Their creation deserves all its accolades --  highest, best preserved,
most beautiful .... you'll add your own once you see it.
As you study the size and strength of the great stone blocks used to
construct the aqueduct, your head will spin.
  How did the workers (slaves) do it?
  And even more remarkably, how did they form the arches
  without using any type of mortar or clamp to hold it all together?
  Limestone blocks cut so precisely they fit together like a glove.

After the fall of the Roman Empire, the aqueduct fell into disrepair but was kept functional as a toll-bridge by the local lords who saw an easy way to make money.
  As a matter of fact, the bridge was used for human traffic until relatively recently. 

Roman technique made for a beautiful structure, one that provided
millions of gallons of water a day to the local community.
The top tier of arches (smallest of the three) are what held the crucial water pipeline.

The area is surrounded by oaks, olive trees and dense
garrigue so typical of the Provence countryside.
  Water sports, paragliding and picnicking are just a few of the
popular distractions that make for a full day of fun.

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The Pont du Gard gives new meaning to the phrase "survival of the fittest."
This amazing structure took just five years to build,
yet it has withstood the test of time.
Only in France ......

Contemplating Roman soldiers and slaves as they went about their daily
business in this magical place is like owning your own slice of eternity.

Time may stretch out behind you and before you, but when you stand
in front of the Pont du Gard, it makes you feel like perhaps your own little
nugget of time and space on earth accounts for something long-lasting.

Roll up your sleeves and build a bridge to your own trail.
I hope you make le Viaduc de Millau and le Pont du Gard part of your own legend.

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Sainte-Chapelle's  Royal Footprint

3/18/2015

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It all started with a grain of sand.
  The essential ingredient in the recipe for stained glass begins
with the plain old brown stuff you find at the seashore.
  But plain and brown dissolve before your eyes as soon as you
add the other vital ingredients -- a hellishly hot oven
and a fire in the belly of deeply committed artisans.

You can call that a recipe for making stained glass -- or you can call it
the blueprint for La Sainte-Chapelle, a chapel seemingly
glued together with a treasure chest of royal jewels.
 Stained glass is the yoke that binds this shrine to royalty and religion.

The pairing of royalty and religion in the Sainte-Chapelle is
as powerful as the kiln that bakes the glass.
  And then God said, "Let there be light."
But it was the king who allowed it to shine right here in Paris.

Paris is chock full of dazzling monuments -- but none quite like this.
  Literally just blocks away from the behemoth Notre Dame, this pocket-sized
house of God (118 ft x 56 ft & 139 ft tall), though rather humble on the outside,
 towers above many other sacred treasures in France.

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Unnaturally located within the Paris Hall of Justice complex on Ile de la Cité,
Sainte-Chapelle's first impression is that it's somewhat of a pain to visit.
  The airport-like security check is not designed to keep mischief out of the chapel; it's there to keep the Supreme Court of France safe from deadly harm.
  Take my word for it, it's worth the effort to buck up and suffer the drill.
  Aggravating, yes, but don't miss this opportunity.
You're in for a treat in the Promised Land of La Sainte-Chapelle.

The moment you walk inside, you're transported to another corner
of the compass completely - Medieval Paris --  remarkable in a
city that has seen most of its ancient streets disappear.
This shift in time casts a spell, immersing you into the wonder of the 13th century.

In 1241, devout King Louis IX of France started making plans to
house several of the most prized relics of Christendom. 
  Promising to make France the new leader of Western Christianity,
he hoped to build a shrine worthy of the Crown of Thorns
and other acquired relics* of Christ's time on earth.

  Not wasting a minute, he and his architect made book on their promise,
completing the Sainte-Chapelle in 1248, surely
a miracle of supersonic ambition and determination.
Later canonized by the Pope (Louis lost his life on a Crusade),
King Louis IX reigns as the only French king ever promoted to sainthood.
He is best known as Saint Louis, the king whose name
is recognized and revered on maps the world over.
Devoutly Catholic, the king expanded the Inquisition, wiping out the last of the Cathers in southern France and forcefully tried to get the Jews of France to convert.
 
*The relics from Saint-Chapelle moved to Notre Dame,
kept under lock & key save for a few special dates a year

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The church is divided into two chapels -- upper and lower -- both
distinctly decorated and memorable in their own right.
  Although the upper chapel is considered the crème de la crème
of the landmark shrine, I am terribly fond of the lower chamber,
the quietly beautiful hall that was built for the staff of the royal family. 
Dedicated to the Virgin Mary, the holy mother stands
under the star filled heavens of the arched ceiling.
  Painted columns and a tiled floor make this chamber feel
more like a living room than a church.
  In a way, it was both church and home, connected to the royal palace,
one of the few remaining structures of that long ago ruined
Capetian fortress to hold up to time and revolution.

La Sainte-Chapelle is a symbol of both religion and royalty. 
Kings had to be kingly, their dynasty based on the
religious-like faith of aristocratic family birthright.
  King Louis' faith in God and The Church was matched only by his titled
sovereignty, an unwavering belief that his subjects should be true believers
of both the Christian God and the crowned heads of his royal family.
  Hand in hand, royalty and religion kept the masses in line.
The King celebrates his God and God blesses the King.

A Tiffany Lamp of the early 20th century might look like a flashlight
compared to the stained glass of this golden age.
This paradise of light and color epitomized the careful balance
between the king's dynasty and the divine promise of heaven.
  Social life in the Middle Ages had few opportunities to
indulge in such a breathtaking Shangri-La.
La Sainte-Chapelle encapsulated the king's religious devotion
at the same time it promoted his all-encompassing authority.

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The upper chapel is flat out so gorgeous, it hurts your eyes. 
With 6,456 square feet of stained glass (2/3 are original!), the onslaught of
color and light make you feel like you've landed in a chamber filled with jewels. Dominating everything in sight, the windows seem to
hold the whole structure together like glue.

It was in this divine light that the royal family worshiped and reigned.
  Perhaps it was here where the term "fit for a king" was invented.

If you're lucky enough to arrive on a sunny day, the light shining
through the colorful windows will astound you.
The reds and the blues seem to eclipse the other colors.
But no matter, if the weather is cloudy and sad, well over 1100 figures
from the Bible will surround you in familiar "stories".
Reading from top to bottom and left to right, you'll recognize
many of the chronicles from your Sunday School days.
  From Genesis to Christ's resurrection and even the proud history
of the founding of the Sainte-Chapelle, these windows artistically
glorify the Church just as the structure lionizes the King.

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La Sainte-Chapelle's extraordinary stained glass,
made of ordinary sand, has withstood the test of time.
  The French Revolution tried to bring it down (and did for a time).
  The dynasty of French kings came to an end.
Many wars have been fought and Paris' medieval streets have been
reworked and rewritten into near oblivion.
But still, 800 years later, the footprint of King Louis IX remains.
 La Sainte-Chapelle still stands -- to show you the way.

Who would guess the words of Simon Cowell* would help give meaning to the  everlasting stained glass found in a little chapel on an island in Paris.....


"Footprints in the Sand" by Leona Lewis

*written by Simon Cowell, Richard Page, David Keuger & Per Magnusson

You walked with me, footprints in the sand
And helped me understand where I'm going
You walked with me when I was all alone
With so much unknown along the way
Then I heard you say

I promise you, I'm always there
When your heart is filled with sorrow and despair
Ill carry you when you need a friend
You'll find my footprints in the sand

I see my life flash across the sky
So many times have I been so afraid
And just when I have thought I lost my way
You give me strength to carry on
That's when I heard you say

I promise you, I'm always there
When your heart is filled with sorrow and despair
And Ill carry you when you need a friend
You'll find my footprints in the sand

When I'm weary, well, I know you'll be there
And I can feel you when you say

I promise you, I'm always there
When your heart is filled with sadness and despair
Ill carry you when you need a friend
You'll find my footprints in the sand

I promise you, I'm always there
When your heart is full of sadness and despair
Ill carry you when you need a friend
You'll find my footprints in the sand


Read more: Leona Lewis - Footprints In The Sand Lyrics | MetroLyrics


Years from now, I'm betting the footprint of Saint Louis
will remain in this lovely little chapel --- just as
Paris remains the friend we need and cherish.

 
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Savoir-Faire at the Institut de France

3/12/2015

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Nearly everyone experiencing the Paris scene has admired it.
  The can't-miss palace with the sublime neoclassical face is a perfect example
of  Parisian architecture the whole world has come to savor and envy.

The Institute of France (l'Institut de France) has been featured on many
postcards and posters of Paris -- but few admirers know what really
happens behind the firmly closed doors of this beacon of french culture.

Situated opposite the Louvre on the left bank side of the Pont des Arts, this architectural masterpiece is home to five french academies of arts and sciences:  Humanities, Sciences, Fine Arts, Architecture, and Political Science.
Sound boring?
  Hardly.

It's here where the french state provides both money and influence
  to keep passion and tradition alive for all things France.
  The Institute manages the National Academies, giving life to much
 loved museums, libraries, foundations, castles and other cultural icons.
  They award millions of euros in grants to keep our favorite
french fixtures up and running. 
  
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The monument's official name is Palais de l'Institut de France. 
This river landmark, founded in 1795, was designed by Louis Le Vau -- the
same guy who was responsible for the Louvre and Versailles. 
With credentials like that, you know you're getting something timeless and immortal.

Speaking of immortal, one of the five academies headquartered
here is the brain-trust assigned to the all but impossible task of
safeguarding the purity of the french language.

  If you took a french language course in high school or college,
before long you'll realize the language you thought you learned is not
the same dialect spoken on the streets and in the media today.
  The Académie Francaise, made up of 40 elected officials called "Immortals",
is the think-tank best known as the language police.
  Simply put, they champion the purification and preservation
of the French language. 

Pride of ownership can be seen throughout France whether it's
architecture, the arts, cuisine, history or fashion. 
  Long celebrated as the universal language of educated Europe, France takes 
pride in its historic role as "official" lingo of the influential and educated.

The legacy is real.
Crowned kings and queens spoke French instead
of their own country's native ( read "peasant") language.
Up until the end of WWI, diplomacy, literature and the arts were all
first and foremost conducted in French.

Although initiated in 1635 by the Chief Minister of France, Cardinal Richelieu, many conservatives feel the Académie Francaise is more important than ever.
With the increasing domination of the English language and American clout in world affairs, a meeting of the minds was considered critical to "save" the French language. The so-called Immortals, guardians of the French language, try to steer
the country away from an overload of foreign influence.

  Why is this important?
  In 1789, close to 50% of France did not speak the official French language at all, preferring to speak the dialect of their own backyard,
be it Basque, Breton, Occitan, or any one of a variety of local color.
  Much more than just a "southern accent" or "northern speak",
these were historically homegrown languages,
often totally indiscernible from France's own.
  The insistence on one common language is one of the founding
   principals that served to unite the country into one definable entity.

In a world seemingly dominated by speed and constant change,
the Académie Francaise certainly has its share of critics.
  The world is not static.
Outside influences continue to rage as our modern techie world
mutates our everyday conversation.
But still, it's extraordinary to see a commitment
to hold dear a beautiful language that has meant to much to the
world of art, literature, science and culture.


The forty-member team of the Academy are voted in for life.
  They take their responsibility seriously even though they have no legal power to restore the vocabulary and grammar they so painstakingly "fix". 
Of the 726 Immortals elected over the course of the centuries,
eight have been women, the first elected in 1980.
  These members are not all wordsmiths though it's clear
as ice that many from the literary world have been selected.
  Alexander Dumas and Victor Hugo, clearly literary icons -- as well as scientist
Louis Pasteur were members -- as were many others from professions
ranging from politician to philosopher, clergy, mathematician and historian.

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I remain hopeful that my rusty high school french will not cause
too much pain to the patient citizens of France.
  Fast as I can say "Je ne comprend pas", perhaps they'll forgive
this language-challenged traveler when they realize their own everyday
speech
is mutating to an almost unrecognizable level.

New slang, fresh idioms, complex phrasing -- it's a tangled maze for
  anyone remotely versed in the classic french language.


  In the meantime, I'll celebrate a few of the French words I love and understand best:

détente, cinema, silhouette, praline, art nouveau, facade, déja vu, petite, potpourri,
meringue, paté, foie gras, regime, niche, attaché, adieu, a la mode, au gratin,
au naturel, rendez-vous, sauté, purée, tour de force, fait accompli, femme fatale,
crème brulée, demitasse, chic, RSVP, objet d'art, par excellence, maitre d', joie de vivre, nom de plume, carte blanche, savoir-faire, café au lait, risque, par excellence, voila, fait accompli, encore, soup du jour, c'est la vie, tête-a-tête
and my all time fave:

Bon Voyage

See, I speak French fluently......
menteuse (liar)
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One can't envision the Institute of France without mentioning
the bridge that "frames" the beauty of its setting.
  The Pont des Arts is famously known as one of the most lively bridges in Paris.
  The wooden planked pedestrian crossing was the very first
iron bridge in this innovative river city.

  Typically filled with artists, musicians and lovers, it's an iconic piece
of the Paris landscape, one you're sure to remember for years to come.
  With the Institute of France on one side and the Louvre on the other,
  capped by a nice long view of both the Eiffel Tower and the spires of
Notre Dame from the middle, you'll be able to take in much of what
makes Paris so astonishing as you traverse the Seine.

But then again, there are those damnable love locks.**
  Admittedly, I thought they were pretty adorable when they first appeared.
But now --- dear God -- they're draining the strength of this 200+ year old bridge.
In 2014, the weight of the lovers' padlocks collapsed part of the bridge railing,
raising concern and outrage by city officials and culture vultures alike.
**note, since this blog was first published, the love locks have been removed -- Bravo, Paris!

The consequences of unbridled love -- sounds like "the talk" I had
years ago with my teenaged daughter....
  No one wants to block eternal love in the City of Love, especially me -- but
for crying out loud, hundreds - no, make that thousands
of pounds of love takes its toll over the years.

  I'll vote for preservation of this historic bridge
over a sentimental fad any day of the week.

So please, make love -- not war -- on this iconic bridge. 
Kiss kiss, hug hug, leave your mark on the lips (not the bridge) of your one true love.
Protect the Pont des Arts.

And enjoy the classic beauty of the Institut de France.
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    AUTHOR
    MICHELLE MOGGIO

    Thanks for visiting  my blog!

    I've been experiencing the joys of Paris since the ripe old age of eleven.
    As a big fan of duck fat, raw oysters and bad French movies, my long career in advertising helped pave the way for drinking at lunch. When not living la vie en rose, my husband Gary and I live in Brentwood, TN, where we stay busy planning our next travel adventure and offering unsolicited advice to our daughter.

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