A Three-Day Diet of Cheese, Chocolate, Chateau, Chapelle, and Charming Arts & Music

 

After almost four weeks wandering down cobbled streets, hurtling through metro tunnels, and humming along the railroad tracks, it appears that the charms of Paris - and environs - are never ending. Almost every day we turn a corner to find yet another bas relief, sculpture, historic plaque, gargoyle, idyllic park, iconic edifice, or simply beauty to dazzle us once again. Already I am fearing our return to Hogtown, which is at its most charming when hidden by a foot of snow. 

That being said, the Chateau of Versailles is not one of those unexpected finds you make upon rounding a corner. We had planned our trip well over a week ago. In fact, just beyond the time meteorologists require to make an accurate prediction.  Thus, our sunny preconceptions were dashed by a deluge that began as we woke on Wednesday. We bravely set out from the Versailles train station, our single umbrella held evenly between us so that at least our rain jackets stayed dry. And of course, being over prepared, we arrived well before the opening so that we had more time to enjoy the rain along with the other unfortunate souls who had smartly made early reservations. Such is the lot of tourists everywhere.

A dreary view out the palace window - I'm sure the Sun King never faced such a day

And yes, tourists were everywhere. It felt like driving on a Toronto highway at just about any time. I managed to lose Catherine within about 15 minutes of entering the maze of rooms. In case you didn't know, Versailles is massive.  What started out as a quaint hunting lodge grew, over the 17th and early 18th century, to 680,000 sq ft of floor space and over 2,000 acres of gardens and park lands. It is most associated with the reign of Louis XIV, the Sun King, but got its beginning with his father (Louis XIII) and was occupied at times by both his son, Louis XV and grandson, Louis XVI. It was the site of the signing of the treaty that ended (badly for France) the Franco-Prussian War in 1871 and the French insisted that the treaty that ended World War I (the Treaty of Versailles) also be signed there, to rub it in. During the Sun King's reign, as many as 20,000 people occupied the palace, mostly courtiers who were trying to rub shoulders and catch some of Louis' rays. Sadly, we rubbed shoulders but did not catch the rays.

The fifth chapel to be built at Versailles. 

(Which might suggest a high moral tone about the palace, but I think not.)

Catherine in the famed Hall of Mirrors (the mirrors only doubled the crowd!)

If you tire of rubbing shoulders with tourists, there are almost as many statues

Ceilings were often a room's main attraction

Actually, we did catch a few rays, but not until the afternoon, when miraculously the rain stopped and we were able to wander through the very French gardens with nary a drop to impede our promenade. We have to confess that the rain had wetted more than our clothing as we were a tad downcast and complaining that none of the fountains were in operation. No sooner had we muttered our last salvo of complaints when period music started pumping out of the forest and lo and behold, water started pumping out of the fountain's many spouts, pulsating to an 18th century beat.  And with a little 21st century technology, you can experience it here: video

I swear I didn't use Google editing to eliminate unwanted tourists 

(or pay them to stay in the Hall of Mirrors)

What's a garden without a folly?

And what's a folly without a statue?

These bushes were begging to play chess

Me trying to get out of bed in the morning

Of course, having a palace is never enough. Grimm's story, The Fisherman and his Wife would tell you that. So it was that Louis XIV had the Grand Trianon built at a fair distance from the palace so that he could escape the crowds and intrigue of court, and so visitors to the palace would be willing to fork over money to rent a golf cart to get there. Not us, of course. And if you have a Grand Trianon, you just have to have a Petit Trianon. And so Louis XV had it built for his mistress, Madame de Pompadour. She died before it was completed, but he was happy to have his next mistress, Madame du Barry take it over. Louis XVI gave it as a gift to his wife, Marie Antoinette, but she found it too big and ostentatious, so she asked that a hamlet be built so she could play at being a peasant (which seems a reverse of the Fisherman and his Wife). And to think all I gave my wife was an outhouse!

Oh, so grand!

One of the charming homes in the Hamlet. 

We can vouch for the rain shedding properties of the thatched roofs, 

as we sat under one for a 20 minute downpour!

All in all, it was a tiring day. I'm sure we promenaded as much as Louis XIV ever did, and were rewarded a royal couch in our apartment at the end of the day.

I'm quite sure Marie Antoinette never looked as good

So, after a full day at Reims and a full day of Versailles, we decided to take it easy and get up early to line up at the Musée d'Orsay where we would spend a good four hours. Only to be followed by an even longer line at Sainte-Chapelle in the late afternoon.  But it was all worth it, as these are two of the brightest gems in the Paris crown. 

The Musée d'Orsay is a collection of art spanning 1848 - 1914, but is best known for its marvelous collection of Impressionist paintings. The building was built as a train station at the end of the 19th century with the idea that people coming to the Paris Exposition in 1900 would not want to exit a train station (Gare Orleans) in the unbecoming 13th arrondissement. Thus, a new Gare Orleans (Quai d'Orsay) was born along the banks of the Seine opposite the Louvre.  Lacking foresight, they didn't make the platform long enough for the long trains of the 20th century, and so it fell into disuse by the time of the Second World War. It was eventually conceived as a location for an art museum to house the works that had been in the Jeu de Paume, as well as works from the 19th century in the Louvre. The new Musée d'Orsay was thus born in 1986. I vowed not to take pictures of the many famous artworks, but I couldn`t resist a few shots.

Looking North across the Seine through one of the iconic train station clocks

We thought this resembled our grandson Jamie,

 pleading for another game of soccer in the backyard

The main sculpture gallery runs the length of what would have been the tracks

What I would have given to join them by the 4th hour!

Funnily enough, one of the highlights of the morning was striking up a conversation with a couple from Los Angeles while waiting in the line. Revealing our country of origin led to profuse apologies, which is always a good foundation for an hour long chat in a museum line. By the end, we were exchanging email addresses and they were no doubt trying to figure out how to make California Canada's 11th province.

As we were scheduled to enter Sainte-Chapelle at 5:30 that afternoon, we decided to take a rest chez nous, so wound our way home through the streets of the Latin Quarter, pretending we were art collectors, checking on the prices of art objects we wish we could afford at galleries enroute. Oh, not merely to be a Parisien, but to be a rich Parisien!

We had marveled at the stain glass windows of Sainte-Chapelle when we were in Paris with the kids in 2005, but we knew that without the kids Catherine could pore over the stained glass windows to eternity and beyond (which is partly why I chose the 5:30 slot!) without a complaining-child accompaniment. We ended up closing down the place, but not before tracing much of the Old Testament through the 32 lancets. Here are a few scenes we captured.

Look out, Abel!

Louis IX, aka Saint Louis

Cath loves smiling angels. How about these smiling demons!

By Friday, we were dog tired, and so took our time getting out of the apartment, and restricted ourselves to walking through heretofore uncharted areas of the right bank. Our first stop was at 149 Rue de St. Honoré, which was never frequented by a saint, king, artist, or a chap sporting a red beret. However, it was important to us, as it was the alleged site of the talent agency featured in our favourite French tv series, Dix Pour Cent (Call My Agent was the English title). In the opening of each show you see the show's stars walking under the arcade along the Rue de Rivoli. 

The star of my show!

From there we wandered into the gardens of the Domaine National du Palais-Royale, which I'm quite sure was merely built for people to take candid photos.

When you want to feel important, grab a column

We then ran into a series of covered shopping areas left over from the 19th century. 

If our malls looked anything like this, I'd be walking them year round

And then we had one of those unexpected finds.  If I had zoomed in a little further on my Google Maps I would have discovered that we were literally at the doorstep of the Bibliotheque Nationale de France. Fortunately, Catherine was brave enough to challenge the security guard at the gate, only to discover that anyone can enter.  And so we did.  What glorious reading rooms!  And in the more public reading room, they had arranged the space so the outside perimeter was full of comic books and video screens to engage children (and me).

The round reading room

The oval reading room

Our route home took us past the Ikea Rivoli which made us feel at home, and also gave me a chance to buy two wine glasses to replace the two I had broken (riotous parties we've been having!). We arrived back home by 3:00 pm which just gave us enough time to cook and eat dinner before heading out on the town. Why so early? We were on our way to the opera!  And the opera we chose is the longest opera Verdi ever wrote (Don Carlos - 4.5 hours, no less), with a starting time of 6 pm. Two days earlier I had received an email from the opera house telling me that I must be there at 5:15 pm. Well, I think they only sent the email to me and a few others. What they should have told me in the email is that I could bring a baguette dinner like everyone else who was in the know. In any event, although we thought the new opera house, Opera Bastille, had the decor of a 1960s train station, the sound quality was unmatched.  Despite sitting one row short of a nose bleed, the chorus was loud enough to make your ears ring. 

The view from the top

Before the vertigo set in (one of the rare dudes in a suit jacket)

And what about the cheese and chocolate, you're no doubt wondering. In the cheese category we have worked our way through Comté, Brie de Meaux, Morbier, Emmenthal, Meule Fruitée, and Coulommiers, but are open to suggestions for stops along the French fromage freeway. In the chocolate category, we are still finishing off our Easter treats, so generously given to us at Le Fief.  But the supplies are running out and the boulangeries and chocolatiers beckon at every corner like a pack of sirens.  Check the next edition to see whether temptation gets the better of us.