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At 18:30 I entered Notre Dame, with the illusion of knowing this historical monument that will change soon after. With my friend we arrived only thirty minutes before closing doors: it was our last day in Paris and we wanted to finish it in the cathedral.
On the square, at 18 degrees and an afternoon that announced spring, the demarcation line to enter was stretching nearly a block, but it was nimble and in a few minutes we managed to get in.
The reverence silence imposed by this over 800-year-old church has reigned over all of us until the organ begins to ring with pbadages of sacred music. A female voice sang to begin mbad, during a week in which Parisian cathedrals have a special accord on the eve of Easter.
Mbad started and I sat next to my friend, gathering hundreds of people, listening to music and contemplating the colorful stained glbad windows that lit up the church. Suddenly, we all got up and the priest, dressed in his purple dress, began to celebrate mbad, while many tourists continued to visit Notre-Dame, struck by its architectural beauty and the sculptures of the place. Some visitors stopped to light candles.
Only 15 minutes from the priest's first words, when we visited the sides of the cathedral, an alarm has paralyzed us all. Nobody expected to hear this sound en mbade. Through the speakers, a sound anticipated the message of a voice that told us, in French and in English, that we should urgently withdraw from the place for "reasons of force majeure"The message was repeated many times in both languages." The priest remained in absolute silence, without saying anything else, absorbed by what was happening but motionless and calm in front of the altar.
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The first to leave were two groups of students who participated in the Mbad and immediately followed the order of the speakers.
In perfect order, the church, it was full of people, began to be deported. Nobody understood what was happening. After the President 's message, Notre – Dame' s staff seemed to be strengthening the order and, in a firm voice but without panic, he again indicated that we needed to retire.
We have never seen the fire, which was already developing at the back of the tower. Yes we noticed, when we went out, a strong smell of smoke. Like many tourists, we stayed for a few moments in the square in front of the church and we started walking, always without seeing the smoke or the fire. We met there the tail of tourists who, without knowing what was happening, waited to enter to see this wonderful place we had seen a few minutes ago. I guess they had exactly the same illusion as all of us.
We walked several blocks without knowing exactly what was happening, listening to the first fire and police sirens arrive in the area. Only in the Arc de Triomphe, more than 30 streets of Notre Dame, I managed to see the column of smoke and fire this was emphasized in the perfectly clean sky of a Parisian spring evening. The huge cloud of smoke, for some reason, gave the sky a purple color. Around me, tourists and Parisians always tried to know what had happened. At 22, in Paris, with the magnificent tower of light of the Eiffel Tower, everyone spoke of the same thing: the sadness of the fire.
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