Day 5 - Paris, Bastille

Versailles. Or, as the French say: "Verr Sigh." Today was another of those clichéd type of touristy days where we were going to pack a lunch (baguette, cheese, orange, macaroon), and hop a train out to the western end of Paris to see the itty bitty little wonderful palace. Then we'd head back to Paris proper to climb the Notre Dame, wander around the Palce de Vouges, eat some crepes, then get back to our hotel to pack.

And we did exactly that, damn you. And I have pictures to prove it.

First up, Versailles. Turns out, Paris public transportation is incredibly, terribly, quite, very easy. Listen up Seattle and Los Angeles – it doesn't have to be this way! You know all that shitty traffic you're always sitting in? You don't need it! A good transit system can be done. It's going to cost money, yes…but damn you all, it's worth it! You've got to do something! I'd pay 20 times the taxes I pay now just to have a frigging usable means of getting around town that doesn't involve me dropping 40 dollars for a tank of gas every week. Mon Dieu!!!

Wife on train...looking like a sweet secret agent.

Sorry. Distracted. Anyhow, we took the train straight over to Versailles, and walked up to the palace. Finally we got to experience the "waiting in line" part of Europe that we'd (somehow) avoided all this time. But…really…the line was not so bad. I'd say, about 30 to 40 minutes…no more.

We got inside, buyed our tickets, then ventured around the grounds for a little bit. They were pretty -- but before we got too far out into the garden, we thought we'd go into the actual palace.

Look how pretty these trees are. Those French know how to do trees.

The Versailles palace was a bit of a…hmmm…a bit of a bastard, really. There were a lot of people at the Louvre, yes…but there was also a lot of room to move about. At the palace, it was just packed full of foreigners, jostling each other, taking pictures of everything they could, talking loudly, smelling awful, and making life generally uncomfortable. On top of this, since the palace is fairly roomy, the operators took the brilliant step of roping off the majority of a room you'd go through…so you'd end up with a little narrow corridor packed with irritated people, all pushing each other to either get through the mob, or get forward to the cordon to take a picture of…whatever it was they were looking at (usually furniture and paintings).

Typical Versailles Palace scene. Do you like smelly, tightly packed crowds? Then you'd love this...

On top of this all…the absolute worst thing I've seen so far in Europe. In each of the rooms (and the reason why so much floor space had been roped off) were displays of "modern art." Now, don't get me wrong -- I don't mind modern art. As much as I disliked the "modern" Louvre pyramid, it wasn't completely appalling to me. But…holy crap. The artist (whose name escapes me now) had a bunch of giant metallic balloon animals scattered throughout. He love them metallic balloons. And in one room – blocking a beautiful, huge painting displaying a scene from antiquity – he'd hung a giant [gall darn] inflatable lobster pool toy on a chain. In this beautiful, amazing palace…surrounded by the most gorgeous scenery in all of France, some [dumbo] decided that the only thing missing was a big red inflatable pool toy.

There it is -- an artistic kick in the babymaker.

So on top of all the idiots pushing each other, flashing their cameras, talking loudly, and stinking, I got to see a disgusting modern "art" display. Needless to say, the palace itself was a bit of a dud. No, strike that, a big ol' flop. If you're going...see it, but just be ready to be annoyed.

But we still had the grounds to see – I mean, who actually goes to Versailles just to wander through the palace anyway? I guess…a lot of people…but that wasn't why we were there. We wanted to look at some damn trees, statues, fountains, and grass!!!


A good example of said trees, statues, fountains, and grass...

Which we did. So interesting, because when you're out looking at all the statuary you forget that they're not cheap plaster or concrete knock-offs – they're the actual marble statues that have been standing for at least 100 years. Pretty cool.


This seagull is not impressed, however.

None of the fountains were on…which was a bit of a bummer…but I suppose keeping those running all day would be a bit of a drain (please forgive the pun…or don't…whatever).

We decided to sit and eat. Upon opening our bag, we were treated to a pungent whiff of merde. Perhaps dog merde. Turns out, we'd purchased Muenster Cheese…and for whatever reason, the rind smelled like poop. Merde fromage. Luckily, the creamy stuff between the rind tasted all right…but you had to wipe the baguette chunks between the two slices of poo-smelling rind. Not too pleasant. But we did it, dagnabbit. We had a picnic lunch of cheese and baguette. Check another "thing to do" off the list.


That cheese done stank up the joint.

After our lunch of bread and near-poo, we went to see where Marie Antoinette stored all of the delicious cake she kept from the peasants (hint: it was in the kitchen). Marie's little mini-palace was definitely the highlight of Versailles…and perhaps the entire trip thus far. The crowd was very thinned out (because access to the mini-palace cost more, and it was a good 30 minute walk across the grounds to get there), and the set-up was very personalized. Much of her original furniture was there (including her bed, sofa, toilette, etc), and you could get much closer than you could in the big palace. You really felt a connection with her, which was a blessing really.


Marie Antoinette slept here.

And now I'm going to go on another jag. A museum jag. I hope I can explain myself well…because I feel quite strongly about it. Okay. Here goes. Jag time.

I have a bit of a problem with museums. See, I love museums, because I'm a huge fan of history – not that that sentence means a whole lot…many people love history, or, at least, some aspect of history. But…for me…I love the personal stories. The best, most engaging pieces of history I've been able to experience are the historical novels by the author Bernard Cornwell. Bernard writes about (primarily English) conflicts, from the point of view of a soldier. He doesn't write from the perspective of generals, nations, and the aristocracy…but from an individual soldier, living in a time of monumental upheaval. It's riveting, and he's a master of it.

But when I'm in a museum, I don't see individual stories. There's no specificity. Wars are laid out on topographical maps, with lines, squares, and triangles denoting battalions, divisions, and defensive fortifications. Arrows denote the movement of armies, and still photographs of generals signing treaties denote the outcomes of the conflict. Again, I'm going to get a little preachy here, but is it just too difficult to tell individual stories? I know the French were pretty well wrecked by the Germans in the "Franco-Prussian War" of 1871…but what was the conflict actually like? There's a famous painting of a dying French soldier at Musee l'Armee. In fact, here it is:



He's handing his "last cartridge" to another soldier…but it begs so many other questions for me – what is the guy on the left shooting at? What did it look like over that rise? How was the dying soldier injured? What were they fighting for? What did they think of their enemy, and what did their enemy think of them? And where was their commanding officer?

And this painting is a better example than most of the "war paintings" I've seen; it shows some pretty horrific, yet courageous action in battle. But, even this moving example leaves me wanting.

I mean, I love looking at all of this stuff…but we have the technology now where we should be able to make history come alive, right? Who can forget the breathtaking first 20 minutes of Saving Private Ryan? Or seeing the (admittedly non-historical, but still fascinating) pitched battle of Helm's Deep in Lord of the Rings? Why can't my museum – the holders of the actual artifacts – find some way to bring these things to life? And I'm not talking about a corny recreation…I mean…I want to see the carnage! The struggle! Smell the gunpowder! Feel the fear and the oppression! Bah!

Whoa. Okay. You can tell I've done a little thinking about that. Anyhow, as I say, museums are very cool…but they could be so much cooler. Instead I just get to look at the artifacts, and use my feeble imagination. Maybe some day I'll curate a museum somewhere, and see if I can inject a little passion into my history.

All right, where was I? Hmm…Versailles. Okay…after walking for 1200 miles around the Palace (huge, huge place – I know everyone tells you that, but I've verified it for you all – the place is gigantic. Picture a garden the size of downtown Seattle or Hollywood, and I think you've got the idea), we decided to get back into Paris. On the train I did something I rarely ever do – I fell asleep within the first 5 minutes of sitting down. Amazing. Erika slept too, so it was a good thing I woke up abruptly as we cruised through the shadow the Eiffel Tower, or we might very well have ended up in Romania (the next stop, I believe).

Thanks to the sweet train-board nap, we didn't need to recharge at the hotel room. So, it was of to the Notre Dame. Or, so as not to confuse it with the super-fun university, the "Notre Dame de Paris." It was, as advertised, very cool. It's fascinating to me – things were so ornate back in medieval Europe. It seems on some structures, every inch of space had some kind of sculpture, inscription, painting, or…something. Inside and out. Nowadays you'll never see that precise attention to detail – it's function over style. I guess it's a shame...or maybe it's great. I don't know. I'm a moron who just likes to say stuff.

But, seeing the ridiculously detailed firearms in Musee d'Armee from the 17^th century, versus the sleek, unadorned firearms of the 20^th century strike a very severe contrast. At a certain point, people must have just stopped decorating stuff (I blame you, Mr. Ford), and started pumping it out en masse. Again, I'm not sure what to think of that…it just bears noting.

Either way, the Notre Dame was very cool, and it offered a great view of Paris. The gargoyles adorning the structure were also breathtaking.


Pictured -- two gargoyles, and two angels.

The only problem with that place was – again – the people running it, and pushing their way through it. Our first stop (and it was a forced stop) on the way up to the towers of Notre Dame was a gift shop. They made us stop there for about 10 minutes before we could continue on. Very annoying. The place had been totally tourist-ized – not like the Sacre Couer, which was mostly open, and (comparatively) empty.

After Notre Dame we had a quick stop a the hotel for a nap (guess we needed it after all). Then off to drink and carouse on the Ile St-Louis, before finishing the night with two crepes and the coolest waiter we'd had in our entire stay in Paris (maybe through the rose-colored hue of our beer goggles…but I'm pretty sure he was as cool as I remember from that night).

Can't remember the name of this place...because I was drunk...but it was a good'n.

For the second night in a row, I was asleep before my head hit the pillow (which is why I'm writing this entry the day after it happened). But tomorrow (today), we're saying "Bon Voyage" to France, and "Guten Tag" to Germany. Until then…