A long and ardous 15-minute metro ride later (we did have to transfer twice) and a coffee break, we got to the very large Pere Lachaise cemetary.We went up the main drive, past the war memorials of Italy, Russia, France, the US, and other allies, and walked smack into the Colombarium. We climbed down the steps and found ourselves in the middle of a series of long hallways with crypts on all sides. The ashes of Maria Callas (or her urn at least), are here, but after learning that there were at least 13,000 nooks, and that we were running out time, we respectfully decided to go look for slightly more interesting graves.
Armed with the Rick Steve map and Gina's infallible sense of direction, we inmediately went the wrong way. And by the time we realized it. we were clear accross the cemetary. So we re-strategized , re-routed, and headed to the most important grave of all, Jim Morrison's. Sigh!
The cemetary is huge, and we walked arounfd for about an hour before we found the path we needed. Luckily, it's also so out of control, that even if you're not seeing the famous gravesites, you're seeing enough to leave you open-mouthed. Some of the mausoleums were just humongous and the amount of decoration some of them had was just incredilble. I even think I saw one for a grocer that had his store's address on the tombstone. Like advertising from beyond the grave (cue scary noises).We finally made it to to Jim Morrison's grave, which to be honest, was as exciting as the podiatrist's apartment. No bust of his head, no underwear strewn around, nada. We were there for a few minutes before the guard came to kick us out. It was way later than we thought, and we still had to make it to nun-dinner, so we rushed out to catch the metro.
The Bastard Family mausoleum.
No comments:
Post a Comment