Thursday held a fairly light agenda. I've been going nearly non-stop for a week, so today I allowed myself a later start. And the hotel seems to understand this: They continue to serve petit dejeuner until 10 AM.

In the late morning I ventured out to buy a 2-day museum pass, which begins on Friday. And Sunday is the first Sunday of the month, when all the Paris museums are free. I then set about pursuing options on the tourist's a la carte menu.

Hence, the subterranean bone yard.

Near the Montparnasse Tower, you can gain entrance to Paris' catacombs. Paris was built on land that had been a quarrying and mining region since the 13th century. Mining practices were curtailed as the city grew. Then by the 18th century, the burgeoning city's dead far outnumbered the living, and cemeteries were filled beyond capacity. What's more, prime metropolitan real estate was being devoted to ... well, not to the benefit of the living.

The city thus looked to the abandoned mines as an option. And in a rousing example of esprit de corps, the Parisian government began to openly spirit the corpses from the city's cemeteries into the mines. By 1810, they began to arrange the skeletal remains into "decorative" tiers, and thus found a way to both store and pay homage to 6 million of Paris' historic residents.

The trip through the catacombs is quite a hike. Visitors must traverse a long passage from the entrance to reach the ossuary. And because they do not allow flash photography, I had to rely on my camera's higher ISO settings. When eventually you emerge back into daylight, you are a full two-subway-stops away from where you entered the tunnels.

Leaving the catacombs, I decided to pay further homage to the most iconic Parisian landmark: The Eiffel Tower. Last August we had viewed it from afar, and although I felt no compulsion to ascend its heights, I thought it worthwhile at least to see it up close.

As much as any broadcast antenna could be, the Tower is truly a monument to grace and beauty. I understand why it won over the detractors who initially maligned its construction. After the 1889 World's Fair closed, they left a beautiful park from which to view the tower and enjoy the sunshine (which on Thursday was plentiful).

From there I decided to once again employ Rick Steves' advice and follow his walking tour the vibrant Rue Cler, a pedestrian street filled with shops and cafes. It was a moment of joie de vivre, best told through the pictures below.

So, on Friday I head from the halls of the dead off to see their architectural and artistic leavings--back into the halls of museums.

Blog to you later!