MANILA, Philippines - Having been intrigued by the image presented by the city of Paris as one of romance and love, on a recent trip there we sought out proof of this perception. Eschewing popular activities like climbing to the top of Eiffel or Arc de Triomphe, visiting Moulin Rouge, Paris Disneyland or even taking a city tour on those red double-deckers, we embarked on this project which we thought of as most simple.

True there were couples kissing in parks and metro stations, but most others were single individuals like ourselves, content in their being with themselves. With a book, puppy, baguette for lunch, they seemed happy with their lives which came about, we realized, as a result of being comfortable with oneself and appreciating one?s virtues. And yes, loving oneself, warts and all, as they would put it.

Romancing oneself, however, still wasn?t our idea that befitted the Paris of our dreams. And as we combed the byways of the city, its nooks and crannies, every little marker posted on a building, we finally found what we were looking for.

The Paris of romantic love, undying love still can be found. Not on the metro and parks, or the cafes and bars, but in monuments, tombstones, books, epitaphs, paintings and sculptures that celebrate as vibrantly today the great loves of yesteryears.

Claudel and Rodin

A sign on a building in 19 Quai de Bourbon, Ile St-Louis started us on this quest for romance. It read that this building once housed the last studio of the sculptor Camille Claudel, student and lover of the great sculptor August Rodin. The source of the text was a letter from Rodin in 1112. A popular story is that Camille went insane because of her love for him. She even had to be committed to an asylum.

The next day, off we went to the Musee Rodin for a look of anything on Camille. Voila! At the museum, we found busts in various stages (or what would amount to be rough studies of Camille remarkably and lovingly molded). Or were we merely imagining the hyperbole and superlatives? There was also simultaneously an exhibit of Camille?s works at a separate hall. Thrilled beyond imagination and charged with this new project, we sought out other great loves.

King Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette

It wasn?t difficult to zero in on King Louis XV1 of France and Marie Antoinette. There are vestiges of them extant today everywhere in Paris, from the most mundane Marie Antoinette Salon de Beaute to what was purportedly the stable of her horses, to the couple?s final resting ground at the Basilica San Denis just on the outskirts of Paris proper.

On one evening, our friend Richard Signey who flew in from Madrid for a visit took us to the bar Yono at Ile St-Louis. A most engaging waiter led us to the cellar which he announced proudly was once the stable of Marie Antoinette. It was now used by artists but to us, it felt like a crypt where the spirits of horses still exchange the day?s gossip with one another regarding their royal master in the cold of midnight.

Abelard and Heloise

Now that we had found our romantic thrust which apparently was love thwarted by circumstance and forbidden by the mores of yesteryear, we chanced upon the most heartbreaking of tales in that of Abelard and Heloise. While most everyone thought this popular source of cinema and theatre lore to be a fairy tale concocted by a fertile mind, these lovers apparently really existed in the 12th century when a brilliant tutor Abelard came to Paris to teach. As his reputation grew, a canon of the church called upon him to tutor his 18-year-old niece Heloise. Just like student Camille Claudel fell in love with her teacher, so did Heloise fall for her tutor and escape with him to Brittany away from the wrath of an enraged uncle. Upon their return to Paris, however, they were promptly separated until Abelard decided to enter a monastery and Heloise became a nun. When he died, she moved his remains to the church he founded, and upon her own death managed to have her remains interred with his.

In the 17th century, an abbess discovered the scandal and once again separated the bones of the lovers. Today, they are together again in glory at a handsomely built mausoleum at Cimetiere du Pere Lachaise in Paris where many of the elite of France are buried. It cannot be coincidental that on the day our friend from Belgium, Donna took us to search for the burial spot, the cemetery had commenced renovation and repainting of the lovers? resting place. And as we were leaving, smoke machines from a Russian movie company filming a ghost story filled the skies with this sense of déjà vu. Abelard and Heloise were enjoying this assignation in the park.

Love against all odds, they say, no longer exists today even in the City of Love. We beg to disagree. As long as there are remnants and vestiges of these loves, they will continue to haunt the imagination and dreams of all who believe in love.

E-mail the author at bibsycarballo@yahoo.com