With the coming of the Romantic Age in the 19th century, people traveled to the Alps to commune with nature. Aristocrats, bitten by the travel bug, came here to sample the wild mountain scenery from cushy hotels. Poor mountain locals found these dandies comical. Stepping onto my balcony deep into the night, I watch the moon slowly rise, like a celestial searchlight, over the cut-glass peaks and softly illuminate the sleeping village. Above it all, the Big Dipper seems to pour blessings on an idyllic slice of Europe that epitomizes my love of this continent.
Drivers have to break through the crust with the automotive equivalent of bare fists.
Place du Parvis, in front of Notre Dame, marks the center of the island that marks the center of Paris. This square spreads like a welcome mat before the cathedral. And like a vast tombstone, it paves over the rumpled remains of Roman Paris. The first Roman Parisians settled here on the Ile de la Cite. Today the cathedral stands upon the ruins of a Roman Temple of Jupiter.