In Which I Learn the Difference Between Fantasy and Reality

After gently resting my feet in the pseudo-medieval garden, I headed for the last stop on my tour, Le Pantheon. This building used to be a church but after the Revolution was turned more into a monument to Reason and Science. I had seen the exterior before but had never gone in to explore the building.



My two favorite things at the Pantheon were the woman in the ticket booth and the benches. I have much fondness for the woman who sold me my ticket because she asked me if I was under 25 and an EU resident. If you are both, you get a discount to most museums/historic sites in Paris. I am neither, but thanks muchly for the compliment, Madame! Aside from this charming woman, I also liked the fact that the Pantheon has many comfy benches on the first floor, so you can do as much sitting as you like.

Some of you may be looking for information with more historical relevance. Happy to oblige!

Three Fun Facts About Le Pantheon

1. Corpse Vengeance!

Lots of great Frenchmen (and a few women) have been interred at the Pantheon. Its primary function, in fact, is to honor the best and brightest that la France has to offer by offering a suitably splendid home for their remains. Famous internees include Rousseau and Voltaire, who are honored with giant, imposing tombs in the basement.

The amusing side effect of this goal is that once enough people decide that a person doesn't deserve to be in the mausoleum anymore, they are summarily dismissed without even the benefit of a fair trial. This very punishment was inflicted on Marat, who was initially placed the Pantheon and then cruelly evicted later, one can only assume by someone twirling a mustache.

I really hate to break it to the people in charge of this sort of thing, but I can't imagine that it upsets people very much to be moved to a new location after they are already dead. Maybe it would have been better to think of a suitable punishment when they were still around to be aware that the punishment was taking place. 

2. Joan of Arc Panels

Joan of Arc is my most favorite Frenchwoman because of her courage and her pioneering efforts to popularize the chic bob hairstyle. I was surprised to find nothing about her at the museum dedicated to the Middle Ages that I had visited earlier that day and yet here I was at the greatest temple to French secularism in the world and lo and behold I find four panels illustrating her life.

But now that I think about it, it makes total sense that there would be a tribute to her in the Pantheon. Whatever your thoughts about Mlle d'Arc's religious experiences may be, it is undeniable that she walloped the English on the field of combat and that is something that all French people can celebrate to this day.

3. Foucault's Pendulum

Sadly, this little golden ball is neither sporting tiny wings, nor will catching it give you 150 points towards your Quidditch win. Instead, it serves as a serious commentary on the omnipresence of the contemporary police state and the inextricable ties between sexuality, government, and power in the modern world--

My bad again, though this is called Foucault's pendulum, it has nothing to do with Michel Foucault, well-known grad student fan-favorite and the author of Discipline and Punish. Rather, it is an experiment performed by an entirely different Foucault, who was a scientists determined to prove that the earth rotates instead of standing still. Apparently this little golden ball, which is attached to the roof of the Pantheon by an invisible string, proves that the earth rotates but I am not exactly sure how.

What I do know is that watching the ball move back and forth across the floor is very mesmerizing. When I write the Lazy Person's Guide to Paris I am going to recommend sitting in the Pantheon and watching Foucault's Pendulum move as a highlight.

After I was done at the Pantheon, I was of two minds as to what to do next. My feet were telling me to go home but my heart was telling me to avail myself of the views of the Canal St. Martin, as I would regret going home and falling asleep at 7 PM. For once, my heart was stronger than my feet and I headed straight to check out this loveliness:

The Canal St. Martin is a beautiful spot of Paris that, despite having been the subject of numerous lovely paintings, has not yet been overrun by tourists. When I arrived, I saw many Parisians sitting by the banks with a picnic, enjoying spending time with friends and loved ones. I sat down with a book and enjoyed the romantic views. It was the perfect spot to lock eyes with a handsome stranger and have one of those Paris experiences that only seems to happen in the movies. 

Now, when I imagine being approached by a mysterious Frenchman, it might be someone like this:

Or possibly someone like this:

But the sad truth is, no matter what country I am in, the only guys who seem to approach ladies in a public place more resemble this gentleman:

Yes, I am aware some women find Russell Brand attractive, I am just in no way one of them. Anyway, true to form, a greasy-haired, strung-out looking miscreant approached me and asked to join me. I said no, both because his personal hygiene was poor and because I was scared he might try to perform the Ring Trick on me. He did not wish to take no for an answer, but I kept repeating myself, finally resorting to scrunching up my face, glaring at him, and making shooing gestures with my hands.

Guys, if a woman resorts to mime to try to get you to leave, it's not going to happen. Just move on because you're starting to creep her out and remember that there are other fish in the sea. He finally took the hint and scooted, leave me to enjoy the view without any cumbersome romantical notions of finding love alongside a scenic waterway.

As the sun started to set, I headed back to my hotel and fell promptly asleep. Join me next time, as I repeat my first day in Paris, Groundhog Day style!