Versailles

I only took a train/the metro once while in Paris, unfortunately missing sights such as the Moulin Rouge and Sacre Couer which were too far to walk to (alas, I will be returning someday). The time I did take one was to Versailles, which ended up being the most unforgettable part of my trip. I headed out bright and early as I knew that a good portion of my day would involve standing around waiting in line (2+ hours which was less than I thought it would be). This preparation was foiled by the utter confusion I faced at the station. You would assume that standing under a giant sign that says "To Versailles" would be where one waits, but logic escapes the Parisian metro system. To make it worse, I had a number of other tourists come up to me to confirm that this was the spot to catch the train to Marie Antoinette's final abode. "Why yes", I would tell them, assured that my ability to read and comprehend a two word sentence was above average. Nope. As I watched the train approach, it whizzed past and stopped two platforms down under a sign that read "St-Martin-d'Etampes". Of course. 

Exiting the train station at Versailles is a bit weird. There's a McDonalds. There's a Starbucks. And lo-and-behold, there's the most outrageously extravagent palace in the history of the world just beyond! I wonder what Louis XIV would think? I don't really know what to say about the Palace itself other than I understand why heads rolled. It's just very...VERY. Larger than life opulance that I presume influenced the entire Liberace discography, the palace was exquisite but what really made my day were the gardens. The moment I stepped onto the back terrace of the palace and saw the Grand Canal for the first time is definitely in my top five list of things that will flash before my eyes before I croak. It is so, so unbelievably beautiful and serene. Despite it being cold, rainy and generally miserable, I didn't want to leave. 

When I eventually did, I caught the right train back to the hotel (couldn't miss it, as Versaille was the end of the line). 

Louis XIV statue at the entrance of Versaille: 

The Chapel in the Palace of Versaille (private tour groups only enter this area): 

The placement of the fire extinguisher wouldn't pass the muster on HGTV:  

An elaborate room: 

Another elaborate room: 

The Hall of Mirrors: 

The bedroom of Marie Antoinette: 

Everyday I'm shuffling: 

The Grand Canal: 

Apollo Fountain in the Grand Canal: 

Marie Antoinette's village at Versailles (built so that she can pretend to be a "commoner"): 

TOUR de France (Part IV)

Besides art, gourmet cuisine and romance, Paris is also known for fashion. The Galleries LaFayette are one of the best places to indulge in this and also observe human behaviour. I didn't take any pictures of it but imagine a North American-style mall replacing The Gap and Foot Locker with Chanel and Rodarte, and instead of being an ugly concrete monstrosity, visualize a beautiful 19th century architectural marvel with a skylight that rivals the stained-glass at the Vatican. Yeah, I couldn't afford anything in it but thankfully window-shopping is free. The only people who did appear to be buying anything were Asian tourists lined up dozens deep - behind red velvet rope no less - outside some of the boutiques.

The immediate area outside of the Galleries LaFayette has more affordable, trendy stores such as H&M and my favourite Uniqlo (and if you're not into shopping, the Opera House is smackdab right there too). A bit of a hike away is the world-renowned Champs-Elysses, which I learned has so many tourists at any given time that French isn't even the most spoken language. Vehicular traffic is also dense here (and leads to the giant roundabout that surrounds the Arc de Triomphe). Expect to see everything from 60s-era Mini Coopers to Bugattis whizing by. And if you hear cheesy Eurotrash music playing at a volume that could wake the dead, try and spot the "Discotheque Bus" a hilarious nightclub on wheels. 

There are historic locations in Paris that aren't commemorated (such as the spot outside of the Tuileries Gardens where Marie Antoinette was executed in 1793) and others where people feel the need to add their own memorial. The Pont de l'Alma, crossing the Seine in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower, is one such location. I hadn't read up on this prior to my trip, but in approaching the bridge and seeing all of the flowers laid at its edge, I sensed that this was the spot where Lady Diana lost her life sixteen years ago; the handwritten eulogies covering its surface confirmed it. To this day, I remember where I was and what I was doing when I heard the news. Being the most famous, most photographed woman in the world, it was hard to escape her image or ignore her life's narrative, even in passing. One of my earliest memories is my mother watching her wedding to Prince Charles on the CBC while I tried to emulate the event with my Barbies on the living room floor. In time, I feel that people have ignored or downplayed how influential a woman she was, so it was nice to see that her memory and spirit haven't been forgotten in the City of Light.  

For my final Paris-centric post, how could I not talk about the Eiffel Tower? It is but the most iconic landmark in the world. With that type of legendary status comes, you guessed it, legendary lines. Despite booking my ticket three months in advance (and even then, not being able to get one for the date of my birthday), I still stood in line for around 30 minutes to get in and then another hour+ to take the elevator up to the top where one can wash down the world-class views with a 15€ glass of bubbly from a "Champagne Bar" (really, a small take-out window in which you half expect the server to ask "would you like fries with that?"). While some consider it overrated and a tourist trap, I felt the Eiffel Tower was perfect. 

Paris is simply perfect. 

Chanel Boutique near Champs-Elysse: 

Art Nouveu building near my hotel in the 7th arrondissemont: 

Me in front of the Arc de Triomphe: 

Blurry shot of the discotheque bus: 

Place de la Concorde, site of the guillotine during the French Revolution (the road is actually made of bricks taken down from Tuileries Palace, symbolic that the monarchy would never rule France again): 

Tunnel where Princess Diana lost her life: 

The Eiffel Tower at night (it sparkles on the hour): 

Me on the Eiffel Tower: 

The Champagne Bar at the top of the Eiffel Tower: 

View from the top (my hotel is somewhere at left): 

Tour de France (Part III)

If you're keeping a tally of the length of time I stood in lines during my trip, the Musee d'Orsay took about 35 minutes (I went on a Thursday, when it is open later) and the Catacombs, which I will discuss next, took about an hour and a half. It seems bizarre that something like this would become a tourist attraction, with its own gift shop at the exit no less, but this is yet another example of the darkness and light that Paris is famous for. 

The catacombs, for those unfamiliar, are a network of underground passages wherein the remains of over 6 million Parisians have their final resting place exposed to the camera flashes and airborne bodily functions of over 6 million tourists a year. Human bones aren't something people see every day and so it is somewhat fascinating; both a reminder of one's mortality and a great advertisement for cremation.

The walkabout starts out with a very long spiral staircase descent and then continues with long walks down endless passages. It was a great workout to work off all the flan I had been consuming. Recent storms during my trip made the pathways very slippery though and partially ruined the shoes I was wearing. Being literally SURROUNDED BY DEATH made this but a small inconvenience. There were bones everywhere! There were also tour groups everywhere. It is always very easy to pick up little factoids - in English, Mandarin, Klingon, etc. - about whatever you are visiting in Paris just by walking through. The most interesting thing I overhead while in the catacombs was word of thousands of university students using them as a party site for a rave in the 1960s. Can't imagine how this would be an enjoyable evening...not just for obvious reasons, but also with how cramped the space is. Mind you, I am a pretty boring person. Rest in peace. 

 

DARKNESS AND LIGHT

There is a lightness one feels when walking down the streets of Paris, an elevation of spirit that only this city can instill. But one also always senses the invisible darkness that weaves its way down every promenade and cobblestoned alley. A morbidness that belies the cerebral promise of its beauty. You can easily envision the great artists, writers, poets and hanger-ons of the 19th century chasing the green fairy (and their own demons) at a corner brasserie. And it's easy to imagine the desperation of a society starving for equity while the bourgeois eat gâteau. 

The Musee d'Orsay had a spellbinding exhibit on all things umbra: "The Angel of the Odd: Dark Romanticism from Goya to Max Ernst" . Viewing the artwork displayed upclose, all massive canvas and vibrant palette, was one of the highlights of my trip. Below are some of my favourite pieces: 

"Dante et Virgile aux Enfers", William Adolphe Bouguereau

"La Mort et la Fossoyeur", Carlos Schwabe

"Le Péché", Franz Von Stuck

"Crane aux Yeux Exorbites", Julien Duvocelle

 

Trocadero

The Trocadero is my favorite spot in Paris. Overlooking the Eiffel Tower and the posh 7th arrondissement, the vantage point it offers is unparalleled. Soaking in the beauty and rich history of this most famous city in the world was more than a few afternoons well spent: 

Statuary at Trocadero: 

View of the Trocadero from the top of the Eiffel Tower: 

Tour de France (Part II)

My second day in Paris, I played typical tourist and took a double decker bus tour through the city. Despite the chill in the air, I chose to sit on the top deck to ogle all the beautiful and impeccably styled Parisians. It was like a 24/7 fashion show; I have never felt so fat, ugly and poor. Until I got to Monaco, which is when I started to feel like a leper. 

The first stop I got off was the Louvre. It was absolutely massive and so was the line to get in. I took a few pictures of the exterior and famous glass pyramid, encountered a few scammers and kept moving on. Right next to the Louvre and crossing the Seine is the famous "lock" bridge. Actually, there's more than one as the original is running out of space AND these are all over Europe, but I suppose the one in the City of Light is the most romantic because hey - Paris is for lovers (although I wonder how many of the couples bound for eternity on its railing have since broken up?). With my iPod in my pocket, I kept pace under the gray skies. I may have been alone but my heart was lost to the city. 

The first line that I decided to wait in was to enter the renowned gothic Cathedral of Notre Dame. It didn't take too long (maybe an hour) and in a town full of entrance fees - including for washrooms - it was free. My favorite part of traveling through Europe is visiting the historic churches and their glorious architecture. While I'm not of a religious nature, it's hard not to be swept up in their grandiosity. I also like to observe people in their search for something more in life. We all yearn for something more whether it be tangible or spiritual, realistic or pure faith. 

My search would soon be for a washroom, which led me to my third line of the day. You never see Rick Steeves or any of the Lonely Planet authors talk about this, but it's vital information for a holiday. Trust. Patience is a virtue in Paris, as is having a pocket full of change. You will need both when using a washroom facility here. While waiting at the one near the cathedral (20 minutes), all I could hear were the staff (né grumpy hags) yelling at everyone to pay a fee. If they didn't pay enough of a fee, they got yelled at some more. WWJD? WWDD??? Well, what I did was leave to try and find a McDonalds universally known as a place with addictive salty fries and free, clean toilets. Unfortunately, the facilities in Paris are more locked down than the Pentagon. Not wanting to wait in another line (seriously, you CANNOT escape lines in Paris), I made my way to the subway expecting the worst. Instead I discovered something of a miracle - a luxury public washroom that must have been something of a tourist destination as it had its own souvenir section. Yes, this washroom not only sold "upgrades" on handsoap (seriously) but also every manner of Eiffel Tower-stamped cheese that you could ever dream up: keychains, magnets, t-shirts...it was pretty strange. Not least of which because there was no line. 

The Louvre: 

Pont de l'Archeveche (lock bridge): 

Interior of Notre Dame Cathedral: 

Interior of Notre Dame Cathedral: 

Statue of Saint Joan of Arc: 

Tour de France (Part I)

Now that I've recovered from eating myself into a new pant size, I've decided to write about my experiences in one of the most beautiful countries I've ever visited: France. I arrived in Paris on Thursday, April 4, the day before my 33rd birthday. It was a long flight and a long day, and my first hint at what the City of Light was going to be like came at Charles de Gaulle airport. The line-up to get through customs was longer than anything I've seen at Disney or the DMV. This would, of course, be the first of many. Paris is not for the impatient or those with bowel problems. I would guesstimate that collectively over the three weeks I was there, I spent the equivalent of one whole day just standing around waiting. And waiting. 

But it was worth it. 

After more than two hours, I collected my baggage and boarded a shuttle to my hotel. The perfume and cigarette aroma of the city heavily filtering through the streets reminded me of an old lady playing bingo...although the atmosphere was a tad classier than a prairie legion hall. There's just something about Paris. The people, the fashion, the food, the architecture, the art, the aura...they all combine to make a feast for the senses. It's very easy to lose one's heart, soul and mind there. I don't think there's any greater city in the world.  

On the drive in, I couldn't help but notice all of the Romani camps situated in nearly every open space, from riverbank frontage on the Seine to an open lot next to an IKEA. As we neared the Eiffel Tower, a different sight caught my eye - that of all the armed guards patrolling the area:

My hotel was right next to this most iconic of world landmarks, so I felt safe (even though the guards looked all of eighteen years old and probably shouldn't have been handling semi-automatic weapons). The only thing that concerned me were the sheer number of scammers everywhere. You couldn't escape them if you tried. If someone offers you a ring or a wallet or the opportunity to aid the "Human Fund" , just keep walking. It even made the news when workers at the Louvre walked off the job in protest over security concerns surrounding the number of pickpockets plying their trade within its walls. Boy, I would have been pissed if I stood in that line and was turned away. 

After putting my suitcases in my room, I strolled the immediate area of the 7th arrondissement. The hoardes of tourists pretty much stay along the Seine, leaving the rest of this neighborhood comparatively quiet. With everything in walking distance and plenty of traditional cafés and bakeries, I would definitely recommend it as a base. It was here that I purchased all of the desserts from my previous posts and discovered that authentic French bread is absolutely nothing like the lies and deceit that North American grocers and bakeries sell. It's heaven in dough form. In fact, everything I ate was simply the best of the best. The French not only put in the time to craft perfection, but ensure that everything is a masterpiece to look at as well. Cuisine was no exception. I have become inspired to live my own life with this joie de vivre. Even when eating macaroni and cheese. 

Next: Notre Dame, the Latin Quarter and Trocadero in Part II. 

View of the Eiffel Tower from along the Seine River: 

The Statue of Liberty on Île des Cygnes: 

Napolean's Tomb: 

Line-up outside of the Louvre: