the wonder of freezing to death at st. denis

All churches are colder than they should be, and many are colder than the outside temperature. Some also contain cleverly disguised heating vents in the floors that are on about 2% of the time. I was walking around St. Ambroise this weekend during a concert intermission and paused to look at a painting. Little did I know I paused right on top of one of these vents. After a moment of standing there, the heat suddenly came on, right underneath me; did I mention I was wearing a skirt? Yeah, well you can imagine how quickly I ran away. (It's a good thing I've taken to wearing tights under practically all of my clothes.)

Yesterday I ventured to the foreboding district of St. Denis, on the outskirts of the city. Why, one might ask, would I want to go to a neighborhood that is well-known for its violent immigration riots and high crime rate, especially when that is the only place I've ever been pickpocketed? Well, I would answer, it is this district that holds the glorious St. Denis Basilica, the resting place of nearly all French monarchs from Charlemagne's daddy to the last Bourbons. Much of the basilica is taken up by a lovely but slightly creepy necropolis surrounding the alter. It sits on top of a large crypt that houses such illustrious personages as Marie Antoinette (now with her head!), her husband Louis XVI and her son Louis (the other Petit Prince) and various Charles, Henris, and Louis (or parts of them - Louis XIV's heart!) that I won't get into but trust me they're really cool.

Anyway, I didn't spend as much time as I wanted in the basilica. It stayed around 52 degrees outside all day and I left the apartment with my lighter coat, a skirt and t-shirt. I had a scarf and boots, just to make sure. It was rather pleasant to finally walk around without thinking where I could stop in to warm up. However! I did not count on the basilica being a good, oh, twenty degrees or so colder than outside. I could see my breath when I walked in, and it only got colder. By the time I came out of the crypt the tips of my fingers were faintly blue. So I left a little sooner than expected.

Oh, well, at least I knew that if I froze to death I'd be in good company. I'd probably get a nice effigy of me piously clutching my hands in prayer with my feet resting on some innocent dogs. Maybe I'd even get one of those "unknown princess" epitaphs!