The World’s Most Famous Paperweight

 

Before leaving Paris, we drove past a popular Mechano model, from both sides. 

It’s bigger than you think

… and then another couple of views

And now for something completely different

 We’re joining a tour.

Here’s our next 13 days

Quasimodo’s Front Room

Sarah has always wanted to visit Notre Dame. 

Not just see it. Some tours just walk around the outside.

Not just stick her head inside. Some tours will take you inside to see all the beautiful things.

She wants to experience it.

We had looked at booking tickets, but it’s always booked out. Access is actually free, but without a booked time, you’re in a queue till next Tuesday. 

Best solution? Go to church. Access for a mass is also free, and the queue is much shorter.

So off we go. Uber again, and he picks us up outside the hotel and drops us next to the cathedral. 

We confirm that we have found the correct queue, and we’re set. 

Busy.

So we made our way as forward as we can, and took a seat. There was a short service just started, so we were all respectful. 

Someone near us started taking video, and got booted. If you’re a tourist, you walk around the edges, after you’ve stood in the queue for ages. If you’re here for the mass, you get to be in the middle of, but cameras are bad form.

So I sat through another mass for Sarah, this time in French and Latin. So much easier than Spanish and Latin. 

Once the service was over, it was safe to pull out the phone.

I think the organist was auditioning for Phantom of the Opera.

Part of the ceremony involved people wandering around carrying a thurible, the incense burner on a chain. 

Seeing one of these always reminds me of a joke my ex-wife would enjoy telling over 30 years ago. 

Two gay priests walking down the aisle, one carrying a thurible.  The other one says “Oh flower, your handbag’s on fire”. She was never funny. 

To me it looks more like an ecclesiastical poi dance. 

I think I mentioned the big one in Spain. 

The incense burner at the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela is called the Botafumeiro. I think that translates to “My dangler’s bigger than yours”

 It is the largest thurible in the world, weighing 53 kilograms and measuring 1.5 meters. 

Operated by eight men, known as tiraboleiros, it swings in a complex pulley system across the cathedral's nave, creating a spectacular display of smoke and a powerful aroma. The Botafumeiro is used during significant liturgical services and solemn occasions, symbolizing prayer, purification, and the joy of pilgrims upon reaching the cathedral. 

One of its main functions in previous centuries was to cover the smell of the pilgrims. 

Here’s a link to a short clip of that bad boy:

https://youtube.com/clip/UgkxS2w770GsRenWnpOsSUmXx4_H9HnaXcM-?si=WLvv7V6m8FTqflhX

Again, I’ve probably mentioned it, but there’s a great movie made by Emilio Estevez and starring his father, Martin Sheen, as a dad trying to reconnect with his son who died while attempting the Camino de Santiago pilgrimage. This movie also shows the botafumeiro in

context. 

Saw some soldiers patrolling out the front.

I wonder if his mother knows he’s out

Had a wander around, and found a souvenir store that carries an amazing range of Tintin memorabilia. Hopefully we’ll get to visit there when we come back to Paris.

Gay Paree

There were a couple of minutes of white knuckle turbulence as we came in to land at Paris (CDG) airport, but we just take it in our stride. Not really an alternative.

We had an airbridge on and off the Air France A220 from Prague, so that’s good, no climbing steps.

Also, I got onboard with my trolley bag every flight, without being challenged. Before every flight we hear announcements saying we’re full, and passengers are asked to get hand luggage checked in. On some flights, we have seen passengers challenged at boarding, and their bags taken. Carrot and stick. 

By the way, the flight was late. So that’s a clean sweep of our European flights.

We took a minute to get to the arrivals belt, helped by the AF app giving me the belt number. It then was about 15 minutes waiting for the belt to start. My AirTags told me they were in the building, so all good. One good thing about hand-loaded luggage, the AirTag will trigger quickly.

I had been messaging with the Uber driver from the time we were taxiing in. Then when we had our bags. Then when we followed the signs to ‘app ride pickup’.

We ended up in a small open-air carpark, just outside the building, with an assortment of roads spiraling overhead.

I had no idea how he was going to find us, and apparently neither did he.

With a bit of back and forth, and a lot of waiting, he turned up outside the carpark (special access only), nosed in to an entry lane for the downstairs park. 

We scurried over, and he managed to get all of our luggage into his C-HR. Then we were off. Spiraling down into the carpark, and then find the exit to spiral back up towards sunlight. This time.. Maybe not. 

I assume that because there had been so many attempts to find us, the Uber app shit itself. He couldn’t fix it.

So he told me to cancel the ride. I did. Uber charged me €20 instead of the €57.

If I’d booked another Uber, there was no guarantee that he would get the job, and everything was already in his car. 

So he offered to take us to our hotel for €37 cash, less the €15 he would get from Uber for the cancellation. Considering the original charge, that would be a good deal all around.

Problem is we’re not carrying cash. We had done 90% of our time without cash, and Sarah gave our last €5 of actual cash to the guy at the Prague hotel for bringing our bags down from the attic.

Sarah told the driver that we can get the hotel to pay him and put it on our bill.

No problem, said the driver, I can give you my number and you can pay me later. Honest guy.

Then Sarah remembered that she had $70 in NZ currency. That converts to about €34, so added to his €15 from Uber, even a bad exchange rate will see him ok.

He was happy with the offer, and we all lived happily ever after. 

I don’t know if he was new to Uber, or new to the airport, but let’s be honest. Large airports are generally pretty unforgiving with pickup access and with signage.

Harder than it should have been. 

Observations in Prague

This is an east European country, so it’s no surprise that they wanted in on the 60’s pissing competition. 

You can now find city tours all around Europe, using vintage cars. But they’re not. They’re mostly EVs, on a replica body. Reminds me of the Bugsy Malone cars.

I first saw them in Lisbon. This one is in Prague.

Found a cool gallery, displaying the stuff that only appeals to weirdos like me. 

And a sweet store

Themed to the Seven Dwarves.  Sure.

Somebody suggested Sarah try the pork knuckle while in Prague.

I had something else.

We came across this delightful window.

The observant among you, dear readers, will have noticed a little morsel called  a pavlova. 

It would be rude not to.

I know, right? A very balanced meal.

I know that tiny cars are a thing in Europe. Remember those front-opening retros we saw at The Circle at Zurich Airport?

Well, this is the smallest one I’ve seen. While those were spacious 2-seaters, this is a 1-seater. Half the size. Saw it on the street in Prague, being used as a mobile billboard for a party bus. Not a lot of wiggle room for a party in this bus.

As we boarded our flight to Paris, Sarah commented on two things:

First, all the flights we’ve taken recently have been hand-loaded. No luggage containers.

Second, these barrows have a built in roof, so no reliance on putting a tarpaulin over the barrows, like we do in the Antipodes.

Kutná Hora

 Took a little excursion to a town called Kutná Hora.

Nice church. 

Nice tomb.

This is what Kutná Hora is famous for. It’s called an Ossuary. When it’s time to refresh the local cemetery to make room for more bodies, old bones are dug up and used for this craft exercise. They build things using bones like Lego. 

As luck would have it, the second largest Lego factory is on the outskirts of town, so there’s that. 

Good that they keep their sense of humour. 

Czech, mate

Prague is an old city. Another one. 

With an old town at its core. Another one. 

While Switzerland reminds us a lot of the South Island (on steroids), Prague puts us back into historic Iberia.

Lots of history which always seems to end with the church outlawing other religions. Opponents must either convert, or be outcast, imprisoned or killed.

The Catholic Church may not behave this way any more, but the behavior has been adopted in the political arena around the world.

We are staying in the middle of Old Town, directly opposite one of Prague's tourist attractions.

Every hour, a crowd forms, rain or shine, to watch this display.

So, is that worth all of the crowds every hour? I doubt it.

To be honest, the one in the Black Forest was better, but what do I know?

All over these Old Towns are cobblestoned streets and footpaths. It’s like living in bloody Corro St!!

Centuries ago, these cobbles rang to the clip-clip of horses hooves as the sole means of non-foot transport.

Today you hear that exact sound again. This time, it’s from the dozens of Samsonites, Delseys and Rimowas making their way between bus, taxi and train stations to and from the hotels and AirBnBs dotting every Old Town in Europe.

Our hotel is an old one, with peculiar floorplans.

We’re in the attic up the back, and because we’re in an old square, vehicles can’t drop off or pick up at the door, adding to the challenges. 

We went to a tour of Prague Castle, a complex of old buildings. 

Just to add to the fun, the uber had the wrong address, and dropped us halfway up a hill. Foolishly, I assumed our destination was at the top of the hill, so we started walking. 

After a couple of minutes, I had a closer look at Google Maps. We turned around and started walking down the hill. All part of the fabric.

Our guide was a somewhat deranged little person. I’ll call her Darlene.

Took a boat ride up the river for a different perspective.