I imagine just about everyone who has a blog and who at some time has visited Notre Dame will be making a post about it. I’ll join that army.

We visited Notre Dame in July 1982 while touring Europe en route to the USA from Saudi Arabia. We had just finished our first year in Saudi. Charles was 2 1/2, Sara a little over a year. Perhaps we were foolish taking two youngins’ on such a trip. We were young ourselves back then—and probably foolish.

Lynda’s must-see city in Europe was Rome and mine was Paris. So we started our 28-day tour in Rome and ended it in Paris. It was a magical time, a once in a lifetime experience. Lynda and I have lots of good memories of that trip.

And a few photos. I think it was our last full day in Paris that we went to see Notre Dame. We had five nights and four days there. The day we arrived we learned the Louvre was closed due to a labor dispute. Bummer. We did other things, and I think the third day we were to go to Notre Dame, but the Louvre opened so we went there, leaving the famous cathedral for the last day in Europe.

We were at Notre Dame somewhat late in the afternoon. After relaxing and taking photos around the outside we went to go inside. A worker stopped us, saying mass was just starting. Not being Catholic that didn’t lure us in, but they would let you in if you wanted to attend mass. Lynda did that while I kept the kids outside, then, maybe ten or fifteen minutes later we switched. I felt a little guilty telling the worker I wanted to attend mass when I didn’t really, but, sometimes we do what we have to do. This was our last opportunity on the trip.

I remember inside as dark but beautiful. I made a quick pass around the inside perimeter, admiring all that I saw. I don’t have specific memories of this or that piece of artwork, but no matter. I went, we went, and that’s what was important.

While inside I snapped some photos. We had a good camera, a Nikon SLR with a telephoto lens, but I wasn’t much of photographer I’m afraid. You can see them on this post, not quite in focus, looking like they were taken in haste instead of with care. Alas.

I don’t remember which of us took the outside photos, but it was probably me as I’m not in any of them but Lynda and the kids are. They might be a little better than the inside ones.

We didn’t keep a trip diary then, so have no notes of what we saw, only the photos and perhaps a postcard or letter mailed home, which parents saved and gave to us years later. If time allows, I’ll find them in a file and see if I have anything to add. Given that this was our last day and we were then to head home to see parents, I don’t think I’ll find anything in there.

The fire was, of course, devastating. It’s a shame, though we look forward to rebuilding. I suspect I won’t ever get back there again, as there are too many places in the world to see should I ever again make an overseas trip.