Notre Dame. We ride the Metro over, get out, eat the usual morning pastries, tour the church, walk out. Check off another tourist site.
Oh, it's worth seeing, and although they still hold some services the place is saturated with tourists (like us.) It's difficult to get a handle on just what a place like this has meant to the residents of Paris over the centuries from a brief shuffle through the place, though.
From there we catch a bus out through some fairly unimpressive areas to the Cité des Sciences et de l'Industrie. The structure in which the Cité was built, a building of unrelieved gray concrete monotony, was apparently built in the early '70s as a slaughterhouse(!) though it was apparently never used for that purpose.
The museum itself is impressive and has a commendably large number of hands-on exhibits but between annotations, audio-guides, and so forth, only about 20% of the exhibits are really accessible and usable without a working knowledge of French.
After the Deutsches Museum in Munich, the aircraft and automotive exhibits here come off as very weak. The centerpiece of the aeronautics exhibit is an old Mirage IV bomber, De Gaulle's calling card at the nuclear club. There appear to be some fitful attempts at political correctness - the exhibit mentions credible deterrence without really wanting to deal with explaining just how many kilotons (or megatons) delivered to whose backyard amounts to credibility. The automotive exhibit is pretty tedious and focused mainly on environmental-friendliness.
We Metro our way back downtown and walk through the quartier latin - it doesn't look particularly latin, it looks pretty much like every other tourist district in Paris. We start walking back toward the hotel past the Cordeliers Club, and eventually stop for lunch at a tourist place at Cluny. It proves to be a very long walk home, and we eventually give up and pile into the Metro, stumble back into the hotel and collapse. While we're trying to nap, a very picturesque thunderstorm rolls in; there ain't nothing more romantic than a view from your hotel room of lightning striking the Eiffel Tower. Eventually hunger overcomes exhaustion and, once the worst of the rains pass, we duck out for Italian food at a nearby pizza place whose name I missed. My pizza was only okay but Eva's pasta was wonderful.