I wonder what they really think?

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Cities are at their best at dawn in my opinion, devoid of tourists at such an hour. The only people around are street cleaners, cats returning home after a night on the prowl, people hurrying to work and me. So at the skreigh of dawn this morning I picked my way through the streets of Paris and took my espresso at the counter of a café from where I could watch the squat towers of Notre Dame materialise against the grey sky. Only her top half was visible initially, her bottom half hidden in a pink powder of mist that was rising from the river and spilling into the streets. I’ve often wondered why French culture, which is avowedly secular, non-religious, places so much significance in an edifice that reeks of religion, and why the nation looks to it as an anchor for national identity. All the French don’t share this opinion, but it’s a strong National theme. Odd.