Because it’s not often that the sun shines so gloriously in Paris during the winter, I headed for the hills on Saturday to see the city from up there (Montmartre). The view was tremendous—when I met Rolinka last month for lunch, it was rainy so the visibility….hmmm, I didn’t notice any! 
Although I had Rick Steves’ book including his walking tour with me, I got off at a different Metro stop and tried to remember where Rolinka led me that day. Happily lost, as usual, and after a series of twists and turns, hills and several occasional sets of stairs, I suddenly looked up and saw the backside of the Sacre-Coeur Basilica, the highest point in Paris (420 feet). When I arrived at the front of the church where the funicular spits people out (people who don’t want to climb the l-o-n-g set of stairs—can’t believe I didn’t count those when I went down), I saw the sign: en panne (broken). So I’m glad I was lost (and didn’t follow Rick’s tour) because it made for an easier climb up the hill. 
This onion-domed white Roman Catholic basilica, providing one of the best panoramic views of the city, essentially crowns the hill or butte of Montmartre. Even though it appears ancient, it was built only about 100 years ago and finished in 1919. The travertine or gypsum stone exudes calcite so that the basilica remains white despite the effects of weathering and pollution. It stands on a foundation of 83 pillars sunk 130 feet deep because the ground underneath the basilica was dotted with gypsum mines. 
Some say the basilica was built by guilty Parisians to atone for the bloody suppression of the short-lived Commune uprising; others say it was in memory of the Franco-Prussian war of 1870. No matter, it is a simple and intimate yet beautiful church, in my opinion—and since 1885, someone has been praying for Christ’s understanding of the world’s sins. This is a tradition carried out (according to a sign in the church) in over 20,000 churches worldwide. 
The stained glass windows (alas, I couldn’t take pictures inside) are very different but gorgeous—smaller and with colors that we're not used to seeing: vibrant oranges, purples, white, and bright greens in the round rose-type windows. And above the altar inlaid into the dome is a mosaic of Christ, with arms outstretched, surrounded by popes and angels—it reminded me of the gilded mosaics in Saint Mark’s (Venice), another beautiful but more elaborate, for sure, Byzantine basilica.While visiting cathedrals, either in the US or in other countries, you end up feeling that they all begin to look alike. This is one, I think, I’ll remember and without the benefit of any photos.
