Paris In Good Company

20-21 May 2010: Paris, France

On Thursday morning, I went out early to get some cereal. Kelsey gave me directions to a little shop right around the corner (large grocery stores are not quite as common) and there I bought some cereal with lots of fruit in (why don't we have one like this in the States that doesn't cost way too much?), a loaf of hearty-looking bread, a box of pasta, and some tomato sauce. I was having some cereal and toast with jam I found in the fridge when Kelsey's parents arrived. They were headed out to Giverny for the day. Giverny (where Monet lived and the famous Japanese bridge over the lily pond he painted is situated) is a little ways out of the city, and so would be a whole day trip (the day before they had made a day trip to Bourdeaux and came back with only good things to say - beautiful and delicious!). I wished I could go (Giverny and Bourdeaux), but Versailles was to be my one day-trip. And it was absolutely worthwhile.

I met Grace at the Font de Sant Michel and we took the metro all the way out to the end of the (yellow?) line at Versailles. We followed the crowds across the street and down the avenue and through the parking lot. Versailles stands on the top of a rise, both proud and languishing in a combination only achievable by extreme wealth and style. The golden gates shine and glint in the fresh spring sun. The crowds on their way to tourist Mecca wear smooth the cobblestones of the enormous courtyard as they wait for a ticket and then to get their bags checked. We joined the queues and at last were ushered inside.

We saw room after room of richly embroidered upholstery on furniture made of expensive woods, heavy curtains shading one and a half-story high windows, walls covered in intricately carved and painted moulding or a rich fabric, and unnecessarily high ceilings which were sometimes painted. The walls were also filled with royal portraits or paintings of historical scenes, often battles. And that was just the apartments of the dauphin. Grace told me that the dauphin (heir to the throne) is called this because a Count who became the heir apparent and the coat of arms for his house had dolphins on it, so basically it was just a nickname and it stuck.

There was a black and white marble courtyard surrounded by the apartments of the various family members that looked like it should have been part of the set for Alice in Wonderland. The main hallways were black and white marble as well. And the floor of the chapel. The chapel (two stories) also had an elaborately painted ceiling and was completed in 1710 after 23 years of work. Louis XIV was very determined about having his amazing chapel. Over the 23 years, the plans changed, and actually was altered to be a little less imposing than early plans. The vaulted ceiling is on the theme of the Trinity and there is a special place for the organist and other musicians above the gold-encrusted altar. Two architects, eight painters, and 110 sculptors worked on the chapel.

And then there were more ornate rooms. And some more pictures of French royalty and battles... And then the Hall of Mirrors. It reminded me of the China room in Charlottenburg palace because the interior walls were covered in mirrors and the exterior walls in windows. In between windows and and mirrors were busts of marble and the walls behind them had faux columns made of marble and gold. In between some of the windows were alcoves with classical-looking statues and statues of gold that held glass candelabras. The moulding where the wall and ceiling was more elaborate than anywhere else and mostly covered in gold. The ceiling itself arched overhead and was separated into numerous paintings with gold moulding acting as frames. From the ceiling hung a line of glass chandeliers that ran down the middle and two more rows on either side which were only slightly less elaborate than the ones down the middle. Pictures do not do it justice, though I did buy a postcard of the hall so I could have the best picture possible (mostly meaning it didn't have people in it).

From the Hall of Mirrors, one could walk into the King and Queen's apartments. Talk about rich tapestry work! It covered the walls and hung from the beds - which were also topped with what appeared to be large upside-down feather dusters. All that is in a bedroom is pretty much a bed and usually some low stools or a chair, maybe a desk. Really, all you needed in your bedroom was a bed if you were royalty, though, because servants got out your clothes for you in the dressing room and did your make-up and then there's another room for a study and another room for greeting guests... And, of course, a room to have council meetings in. If you are Louis (any of them, really), you put the council room next to your bedroom so when things get too boring, you can just go take a nap.

At last we had passed through all the parts of the palace we could see (including the gift shop) and turned our steps outside to the immense gardens. To describe the gardens of Versailles and to some extent all the gardens I saw in Paris, I turn to Edmund Spenser's The Faerie Queene (1596), Book IV, canto x (spelling corrected for your convenience by me):

11

Fresh shadows, fit to shroud from sunny ray;

Fair lawns, to take the sun in season due;

Sweet springs, in which a thousand Nymphs did play;

Soft rumbling brooks, that gentle slumber drew;

High reared mounts, the lands about to view;

Low looking dales, disloingnd* from common gaze; *remote

Delightful bowers, to solace lovers true;

False Labyrinths**, fond* runners eyes to daze; *foolish

All which by nature made did nature's self amaze.

12

And all without were walks and alleys dight,* *adorned

With diverse trees, arranged in even ranks;

And here and there were pleasant arbors pight,* *placed

And shady seats, and sundry flowering banks,

To sit and rest the walkers weary shanks,

And therein thousand pairs of lovers walked,

Praising their god,* and yielding him great thanks *Cupid

...

**Labyrinth: a maze formed by paths bordered by high hedges, used in contemporary (i.e. 16th century) landscape gardening.

Let us analyze. Line 1: shady places - check. Line 2: fair lawns on which one may sunbathe - check. The whole center pathway from the palace down to the other end of the gardens (an hours' walk) is at first a garden/fountain section, then a section called the Green Carpet, then a very nice lawn around the Apollo Fountain which starts the Grand Canal and then lawn and a path down either side of it all the way to the end. So we can check off the 'sweet springs' of line 3 as well. There were fountains everywhere and most had statues of gods (including Bacchus and Neptune - the latter was very impressive and the site of the construction of a stage for a summer concert series) or cupids in them. And talk about labyrinths! The entirety of the gardens to the sides of the Green Carpet were paths formed by high hedges and within the mazes were little grottos and fountains and 'pleasant arbors' and 'delightful bowers to solace lovers true'. 'Solace' here meaning more to delight and please rather than comfort. Lord knows that Grace and I made good use of the shady seats to rest our weary shanks (legs), especially towards the end of the day when we would pause to sit for a few minutes at each sight on our way back out through the mazes and then down the fountain lane to the Dragon Fountain and Neptune.

Perhaps there were not really any 'high reared mounts' as such, though the view from the terrace right outside the palace before you went down the steps to the fountain/garden area was pretty spectacular. You could see down the Grand Canal and barely make out the other end. But the French style of gardens were pretty big on flatness and symmetry, and if you had a hill you sort of flattened it out into terraces. Brooks and dales, too, aren't really part of the French garden style, though trees arranged in aisles (as we saw in Luxembourg Gardens,

especially) definitely are. But all we have to do is step on over to Marie Antoinette's gardens behind her 'little' house (the Petit Trianon). Well, it was, compared to the palace. And it actually seemed more 'housey', though still ornate. (See the music room on the left - that's actually what most of Versailles's rooms looked like. But the bedroom was homey). At any rate, she had her gardens done English

style, which was much more free and more like what we might more commonly think of as parks. There was a little brook running through it and the ground was not all flattened, nor the grasses mowed with precision, but allowed to grow tallish and flower with clover, daisies and buttercups. Nor were the pathways broad, but narrow tracks that wound through the gardens. The bushes and trees are placed artistically, but seemingly at random. And from the bedroom window of the house can be seen the Temple of Love - a little [what's the word for it? - the thing Grace where Grace is sitting in the picture on the right] with a statue of Cupid in it.

Marie Antoinette also apparently had the urge at times to pretend to be a peasant, and so had a fake farmstead built. Not entirely fake, I suppose, as it was operational at the time and I think is still used to grow a few veggies, though there is a tower building on the little lake that is definitely just for decoration. It might have been trying to be a lighthouse, but I think she went up there and played damsel-in-distress. And not all the cottages were strictly necessary. One was just for the heating up of the food, like the not-kitchen in the house itself. (It looked like a kitchen, but was only used to heat food made in building nearby so the smell of food cooking wouldn't bother the royals.) Basically it was what Disney would make if asked to build a classic French peasant farm. Think of the dwarves' cottage in Snow White and you're halfway there. Now add a garden of calla lilies in front of it and some irises on the thatched roof. Now multiply by a dozen and add some other gardens, a mill, and a larger house with a wisteria-covered wooden, falling apart, spiral staircase on one end that leads to a second-floor gallery porch. Oh, and there's lilies and swans on the water and lots of catfish in it.

So basically that was Versailles, though in wandering through the gardens there, I did forget to mention Louis. I guess snails were not high on Spenser's list of things to find in a paradisiacal garden. Louis XIX was a beautiful little snail we found in the gardens and he travelled with us for about ten minutes, crawling happily all over my hand until he got tired and disappeared into his shell. He was a great friend and we took lots of pictures together before he had to go back to the grass.

We took the metro back into the city as the sun was moving slowly closer to the western horizon. I napped on the ride. The box of pasta and jar of sauce I had bought that morning served us for dinner and there was enough pasta left that I took it to the next city with me for a few more meals. Kelsey and her parents returned around the same time we did and we chatted about our respective trips. Grace at last had to go catch the metro, but we agreed to meet the next morning at the Luxembourg Gardens metro stop to see one last sight before I had to leave.

~~~

Friday. My last day in Paris. Kelsey and I chat one last time over breakfast and she insists that I visit one of her favourite bookstores and gives me directions. We think of Ireland and of her upcoming trip to Norway. We wish we had more time.

I pack up everything, including the cereal and pasta, and heave my over-stuffed backpack and bag onto my shoulders and head out to meet Grace. She carries the pasta and a few other things for me in her purse. We walk down to the Seine and take the stairs from the main sidewalk to the riverside promenade, go under a bridge and come up again to cross the bridge over to Notre Dame. We marvel at the façade for a while and watch the oriental tourists take a million and one pictures. There were three ladies in particular that caught our eye. Grace pointed to them as they stood together, backs to each other, each taking a different picture with a slightly different picture-taking pose. "The three Graces of photography!" Grace proclaimed. And then they turned around and put their heads together to compare shots.

Notre Dame only stands well-maintained today due to its attraction to tourists. And that is mainly due to Victor Hugo's The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1831) being a very popular book. The book was the initial main reason people decided to put some money and effort into restoration, as the building (like so many churches of the time) was pretty run-down after the revolutions. Sometimes we think that places that only exist because of tourists can't possibly be all that great. I mean, if the natives don't care, why should we? But (obviously) this is not any where near the case with Notre Dame. It is an impressive example of the earliest use of flying buttresses as an architectural method that allowed the walls to be taller and thinner and therefore have more stained glass in them. For the entire 200 year period over which it was built (beginning in 1163), the Gothic style reigned and by the time it was done, flying buttresses were old hat. Once again, this doesn't make it any less impressive. Inside, it is set up like any other cathedral, but the ceilings are higher, the windows larger, and the walkway around the back of the altar (I know it has an actual name...) has more elaborate prayer nooks (I think there's a more technical name for them, too...). The complementing rosette windows at the ends of the cross section (between the space for parishioners and the altar area) are huge blue carnations with hints of red. Close examination reveals amazing amounts of detail in the actual stained glass. Similarly, the stained glass in the chapel-things is incredibly detailed. There they have restored some of the original painting on the walls and ceiling. Originally the whole church was painted. Everything. Wall and ceiling. Can you imagine the feast of colour it must have been when you walked in during a sunny day and saw all the stained glass and the walls and ceiling painted vibrant blues and greens and reds and gold? Imagine the colour on the right in every part of the church:

But we cannot spend forever in Notre Dame, so we head back out into the streets of the old section and go back across the bridge to find Kelsey's bookstore. It takes some hunting around to find and on the way we stop in a tiny park with a fine little garden section. It has a variety of irises, among other lovely flowers all in bloom. At last we find Shakespeare & Company - one of two (I think) English bookstores that Kelsey found in Paris. It was an amazing little shop, so crammed with books that they spilled out into the sidewalk in wooden boxes. There was little room to move downstairs, but they found some space to fit a couple of theater seats under the stairs. Upstairs they squeezes in a piano for anyone to play, a cushioned alcove surrounded by children's books, a room of very old books just for in-store reading with a window looking out to the Seine and Notre Dame and a desk and cushioned bench, and a tiny, tiny alcove with a chair and desk with a typewriter, also for guest use. It was the most beautiful bookstore I have ever been in. Kelsey said if you buy a book, they even stamp the inside cover with 'Shakespeare & Co.', but I did not have any room to be buying a book. Neither did Grace, though she wished she did because she was longing for English books and good ones were hard to come by in Grenoble.

We went almost next door for a lunch at another tiny table on the sidewalk. There was still time before I needed to get to the metro, so we wandered back across the river into the old section and found the flower market just beyond Notre Dame. We sniffed flowers and looked at trinkets in the not-flower stalls that were there as well. We found an official, governmental-looking building, bought some stamps, and came back to the Seine. We walked down the to the promenade and settled down on a bench to rest for a bit. People came and went, some sat on the edge of the river wall and had lunch. We just watched the people and the water go by. I ended up napping on my backpack for a bit.

Finally we get on the metro. We have to go a little ways on one line and then switch to get onto the one that goes to the orlyval, that is, the airport-only metro. And at first we got on the wrong way, but we caught ourselves (well, Grace did, thank god) and got back off to go the other way. And ended up waiting almost 20 minutes for the next train. It was frustrating. I was worried about making my flight. But there was nothing to do but wait and listen to the echoing sounds of underground stations. At last we get to the orlyval, I get my ticket and pass through the gate to wait for the train. It only takes a minute. While that minute drags on, I press my hand against the glass of the barrier and Grace puts her hand against mine. It is so hard to say goodbye. Three nearly perfect days and we only barely scratched the surface. I'm leaving Kelsey's beautiful home and Grace's excellent company for a city where no one is waiting for me. I don't want to leave.

The people on the train must've thought I was on my way to a funeral or something. By the time we arrive at the airport, I am still sad, though now I must figure out the terminal from which my flight is leaving and hope beyond hope that the lines aren't long so I can make this flight. But I do not. I am ready to clear security and they tell me it is already boarding. They send me to the airline's desk to get a new flight, charge me 99euro and then I have to wait in line again (now longer) to catch the flight leaving the next hour. They pull my backpack aside to look through, dumping out the majority of my carefully-packed clothing and other odds and ends in the process. They decide it's okay and half stuff it all back and I then have to go ask at an info desk about the gate for my flight, as it is not printed on the boarding pass. They give me a number and warn it may change, but I wait patiently until 5 minutes before the listed boarding time when two ladies saunter up to the gate desk and turn everything on to start boarding. Between the leaving Kelsey and Grace, missing the flight, and having to wait for this, I must've looked like such a wreck, on the verge of tears half the time. But at last I was on a plane and with the sound of the safety procedure in French, then English, I at last relaxed and rest for a bit until my arrival in Barcelona as late afternoon was starting to turn to evening.