Archive for October, 2026



This wasn’t planned. On this trip, my travel mates booked an evening Seine cruise which I decided not to join. Took off on my own instead and checked in for a night of adoration at the Hôtellerie de la Basilique du Sacre Coeur de Montmartre. I never missed a visit to this lovely basilica up on a hill with every trip to Paris. No matter how tight the travel schedule is. I also try not to miss every First Friday Mass (and if possible, every Friday Mass) and novena to the sacred heart. When I learned the basilica allows vigils (from 11pm to 6am) and provides accommodation to volunteers at this guest house attached to the basilica, I readily signed up. Weekend vigils are almost always full but Mondays are relatively “lacking” in numbers. I booked a room — very spartan — and dinner prior to confession, mass, adoration and prepped myself for a night under the dome. At dinner, I met the staff and some volunteers. We were 15. So I assumed we can easily assign the adoration hours amongst us. It turned out more than half of the people around the table made up the staff. For a good hour, I think I was all alone inside the basilica. I could almost feel the echo of my laboured breathing and coughing. I stared at the lighted candles and mindlessly watched if the lights seemed to sway right or left. Wondered how the light flickered when there didn’t seem to be any wind blowing within the vast space. I didn’t trust myself to wander around under the big dome. I only managed to look behind me and panned the camera, hoping I won’t find any moving shadows. It was so eerily quiet. And very dark. Only the altar was lighted. Plus the candles. For a while, I wasn’t so sure about the passageway that connected the basilica to the hotellerie. Yay.

When I checked in at 4pm, I had time to rest in my room one level below ground. Very spartan. There was a window looking out to an empty space hemmed in by trees and a white statue of the sacred heart. Dinner was served one level lower. The bridgeway that connects to the basilica is one level above ground. So from my room, I needed to climb 2 flights of stairs. Around 8pm, the confessionals were kept busy. A priest must be taking his break, walking around the church. I approached him and asked if I can make a confession and he led me to his confessional box. Then the 10pm mass where this same father-confessor was the presiding priest. I stayed long after the mass. I initially counted 4 of us, maybe 5 as I detected a shadow behind me. Before long, all’s quiet and I felt alone. What a lovely time to pray. From the many church doors, I was trying to figure out which led to the bridgeway and prayed I won’t get lost. Oh, I admit I found a staircase beside the altar leading down and curious me took it. I climbed back up promptly when i sensed it was leading to a crypt. 😳

Every so often, I would travel with my family or friends and somehow manage to exclude myself from the group for some “me time”. This was my “me time” and I’m glad I was able to do this. It was kind of difficult to sleep as my senses were full on but it was a wonderful time to pray. Looking back, I wasn’t sure what I prayed about. I think I just sat there quietly and “listened”. And many happy thoughts wafted through my mind. The gratitude in my heart floated through, leaving me aware of how I actually ended up here. Nothing happens by accident. It appeared unplanned, but somewhere deep in the recesses of my mind, I felt “chosen”. I couldn’t ask for more. I am grateful to feel the way I do now.

The following morning, I skipped the breakfast provided for the volunteers and instead walked around Montmartre. I love this bohemian neighborhood with all its quirky cafes, tiny museums, creperies and brasseries. I just don’t enjoy the sloping streets especially when going uphill. And that Rue Lepic which snaked down to Pigalle which threw off all my sense of direction. I’ve never seen a street corner of the same street! Like Rue Lepic lying perpendicular to another Rue Lepic. Oh well. I’m only too glad with the discovery even if it made me lose track of where to go. So, heading back to our Paris crib now . But not before breakfast. Will I do this again? Why ever not? 🙏🙏🙏


Touchdown, Paris. It’s a Sunday so we decided we’d be off to hear mass after dropping our bags in the hotel. Meant to hear the 1130 mass in Notre Dame but the wait from landing to going through passport control and arriving in our hotel ruined our plans. The streets around the hotel near Champ Elysees were so crowded with dog walkers and our hotel transfer wasted precious hours snaking around detours. By the time we were ready to leave the hotel, we couldn’t even hail a cab. Taxi ranks overtaken by “The Sausage Walk 2026”. Yay, this is Paris indeed. Dog walkers all over the place. So we decided to instead take the metro to Hotel de Ville across Notre Dame. From there we walked towards our chosen restaurant for our Sunday late lunch across the Seine. Au Bourguignon du Marais did not disappoint. Walking along Rue de Rivoli to reach this bourguignon place meant passing by (and dropping in) some shops along Rue de Rivoli, a very trendy street in Le Marais. Tempting to stop for some retail therapy, but after a long flight and muscles begging for a stretch, lunch is the 1st order of the day. And make that a traditional French lunch. A very French lunch.

Beef bourguignon was the bistro’s signature dish and we certainly enjoyed that. Magret de Canard did not really stand out but the dishes that were served before the main entree were truly frenchy good. Love the escargot, the French onion soup and the ouef mayonnaise. More than enough for the four of us. Not bad for our first French meal soon after touchdown. I skipped my inflight meal having decided to sleep through my connecting flight but no luck on catching some winks on these flights. Sob.

The yummy starters before the real deal.

We passed on desserts since we planned to indulge in Carette after this heavy lunch but Carette had to wait. Our random plan to visit Musee Carnavalet ended so uncomfortably warm and humid. Don’t misunderstand — Carnavalet is certainly worth a visit (and it’s free) but temps hiked after our late lunch and it was unbearably warm and humid. We didn’t stay too long and upon exit, dragged ourselves to the nearby square, the oldest in Paris. Place des Vosges. Carette and Maison Victor Hugo are both just around the square but after a long sleepless flight, the rising humidity and the thick Sunday crowd, we lost energy and decided to call it a day.

The taxi that brought us home had to deal with closed-off streets and detours. Upon reaching our Paris crib, we were wasted. Ready to hit the sack. But not before a glass of vino rouge.