Notre-Dame de Paris took nearly two centuries to build, and a single April evening in 2019 almost undid it. Begun in 1163 on the Île de la Cité, it was among the first great churches to raise the flying buttress — external arches that carry the roof's weight outward, freeing the walls for wide sheets of stained glass. Its three rose windows still fill the interior with coloured light. For more than 850 years it has anchored the city, and France measures road distances from a bronze star set in the square outside.
You approach across a stone parvis, and the west front rises in careful symmetry: two square towers, a gallery of kings, and deep-carved portals that served medieval Paris as a Bible in stone. Step inside and the nave draws your eye upward into cool shadow, the air still. The fire destroyed the roof and toppled the spire, but the great stone vaults largely held. After a five-year restoration by hundreds of craftspeople, the cathedral reopened at the end of 2024, its limestone scrubbed pale and its forest of oak beams rebuilt as before. It is again a working church and one of the most visited monuments in France.