On the enthusiastic recommendations of my friends Lily and Nikki, I chose to spend two days in Brugge, Belgium, a gorgeous town of gabled rooftops, meandering canals, chocolate pralines, and lace. Also home of one of the nicest populations of people I met on the trip...or maybe it was just in comparison to Paris. Anyway, I was dropped off by a medieval gate by a bus driver and a bus load of people giving me recommendations on where to go, what to see, and how to get to my hostel, which was right down the street. As soon as the bus pulled away, I saw 4 windmills lined up along the river bank! Windmills! How quaint and amazing! Was a bit tired, so I walked around only a bit, ate overlooking the Markt, and planned my walking extravaganza the next day. (And where I was going to get waffles!) Got into a long conversation with people from Chile, Quebec, and PEI in the room.
Walking day! I took all the walking tour routes printed in the tourist guide and pasted them all together. Headed first to a windmill! I don't know why I was so excited about windmills, but I was! The gears were turning, but the miller wasn't milling. Needed two millers to be safe, and the other one was still sleeping. Ah. Had a good time, regardless. Strolled my way through the city looking at every church and facade until I got to the boat rides at the canal and decided, why not! Lovely boat ride with a trilingual tour as the world floated by. Got off and saw a man making WAFFLES in the window and had to get one, right away! Mmmm, Belgian waffles...so good. Not like the stuff they sell in the frozen grocery section, mind you. Real Belgian waffles with chunks of sugar in them, glazed, with ice cream and chocolate on top. Definitely worth the trip to Belgium in itself! Walked to the Burg, or the city center, and into the Church of the Holy Blood. Clearly, the relic is a vile of Christ's blood from the crucifixion, and it is on display every Friday from 10-12, unbeknownst to be when I walked in. Then I saw the line of people going up to kiss something on the altar...decided to keep my distance and look, instead, at the beautiful wall paintings and stained glass telling the story of the king who brought back the vile and donated it to this church. How nice of him. He probably could have sold it on ebay for pile of gold. Then they prosessed with it all over the place and through a little door at the back. Theatrical? I think so. Went into the gorgeous rooms of the City Museum where the councils would meet. One was a Gothic room with a beautifully carved fireplace. The other was a large hall with paintings of scenes of life in Brugge along with major political, historical, and legendary figures of the city. It used to be a huge trading post, though I believe most of the trade has gone elsewhere and now tourism rakes in the dough. Headed down to the ugly modern concert hall and odd fountain statue over to the Church of Our Lady which houses a famous Mother and Child by Michelangelo. The details are very similar to the Vatican Pieta, and it draws quite a crowd. Walked through the grounds of an old hospital to the Lake of Love with swans abound and over to the nuns' complex where all the trees oddly lean towards the church.
Made my way back to the Markt to buy some lace. Here is where I met Irma, or at least I think she's Irma. The store is named Irma and I would like to think that this little old woman was her. She must have been in her nineties, and she sits outside in a rocking chair making lace...which looks so difficult to do! As I'm watching her, she turns to me and says, "Buy lace here! Make an old woman happy!" Yes, Irma! Amused, I walk into the store where her family, or just other workers, tell me that they are proud of their lace because it is made here, by them, in Brugge. "Not like that garbage from overseas!" Apparently, 90% of the lace in Brugge is from China because of cheap labor. Thus tourists buy the cheap lace from the touristy shops rather than the Belgian lace from the original stores. Well, to make an old woman happy, I bought some lace from Irma's. It's always nice to support the local artisans.
The next morning, I had a bit of time to waste before my train, so I joined up with the group from PEI in search for some cheap Belgian chocolate. You can't leave Belgium without buying Belgian chocolate. I had stocked up on some cheaper bars of chocolate from the grocery store, which was indeed amazing chocolate, but wanted to find some of the boxed pralines. We were all very picky, but we found what we were looking for. Decided to go into the belltower (but not up it!) to see a Dali exhibit, which was very interesting. Finally time for the train! But I give a two thumbs up to Brugge. Beautiful and relaxing, it does sweep you off your feet.
Sunday, August 26, 2007
Friday, August 24, 2007
The Versailles Let Down and the St. Chapelle Gem
One of the biggest let down of Paris sight seeing is Versailles, the megamansion of the Louis XIV-XVI and their Maries: Marie-Therese, Marie Leszczyska, and Marie-Antoinette. I understand that the purpose of Versailles was to house and entertain the entire French court and then some, BUT the number of tourists packed into Versailles was ridiculous. You couldn't even get a sense of what it was really like because of all the shabbily dressed, camera weilding people who don't resemble anyone, even a pauper, from the French court. After 3.5 hours in line, I was able to pack my way into the royal apartments in which I moved with the other sardines through the nice rooms, and was glad to be spat out the exit. Met up with Courtney and her classmates who covered about one room of the palace in their class. We meandered through the garden a bit, which is very flat. The whole thing is flat. I'll post a picture to explain. 1/2 of the picture is sky. 1/4 is ground. The last 1/4 is the mansion and all the greenery. Not very beautiful to look at. So I walked to Marie-Antoinette's estate which she built as a retreat (I don't blame her!) with two gigantic "small" triaons, or day houses, expansive fields with creeks, bridges, and grottoes, and a play village. This quaint village was used by MA and her ladies when they wanted to "play peasant." It's a lovely lake with swans and a mill, a farm with horses, a lookout tower, and peasant houses. It all looked very fantastical to me. I would gladly live in any of those buildings. It was really nice to be out there because not many of the tourists make the trek, or pay to make the trek, out there. Made my way back through the crowds to, where else, the St. Severin area to meet Courtney for a great dinner.
I couldn't get train tickets to Belgium for today, so I needed a place to stay for a night. I got into a pointless fight with the witch down at the desk who told me that there weren't, all of a sudden, any beds when every room I had been in had at least one empty bed in it, and that their other branch in the Latin Quarter, didn't have any either. Walking away to get my bag, I decided to call the number of the hostel. The witch picked up the phone, and very nicely told me that this branch didn't have any beds, but that the other one did and that she would transfer me to that number. How nice. Merci. Moved my stuff over to the Latin Quarter where I met Crystal in the bag room. (Character: Crystal, a music teacher who had just come from singing in an international choral festival at Canterbury Cathedral.) Crystal and I teamed up for the day and headed first to the St. Chappelle, a small chapel across from Notre Dame known for its expanse of stained glass windows and light. Wow, what a gem! My mouth literally dropped to the floor. I had seen pictures, but nothing compares to experiencing the space. First of all, there is so much glass. When you hear about Gothic cathedrals being light and airy, St. Chappelle is the best example. The light was streaming in an array of colors, as if one is walking through a kaleidoscope. Second of all, every inch of the stonework is painted, like Gothic cathedrals used to be. It's one thing to walk through the gray and looming cathedrals of stone, but it's a completely different thing to walk through one that is brightly colored with painted tapestries and designs on the walls. They're not frescoes, but more trompe l'oeil gemstones and marbles decorating the interior walls. Originally also, I believe, many of them were painted on the exterior as well, just like the Parthenon in Athens, believe it or not. The pictures just do not do this building justice...so go there and see it for yourself!
Crystal and I decided to go see what Montmartre is all about. Climb to the top of the hill to the Sacre Coeur, a huge, out of place looking church with gorgeous mosaics inside. Ambled down the winding streets in search of our truth, beauty, freedom, and love and instead found a few churches, some steep streets, and some amazing boulangeries! Ate to our heart's content and walked over to the Moulin Rouge to see what that was all about. Took a picture and one look at the surrounding area and decided to make our way out of that district and into one a little safer looking. Walked down to the Tuilleries to finish our stashes of olive bread and pan au chocolat (Paris does it better than anywhere else!).
Courtney met us at the Orangerie, a very small, but wonderful museum in the Tuilleries that is most famous for Claude Monet's Water Lilies painted on gigantic curved canvases for two oval rooms. One depicts the lake at daylight and the other at dusk and night. Beautiful. Courtney drooled over them and decided that she would, one day, paint them in her dining room and living room respectively. Good idea. I think I have a strange appreciate for Monet in that when you get up close to his painting, the paint looks like huge haphazard brush strokes, but when stand back, it's a perfect picture. I have a similar appreciate for Seurat, but more for Monet.
While Courtney was at class at the Louvre, Crystal and I walked down to the Pont Alexandre Trois (what a great name to say!) and admired all the gold pasted onto the bridge (if it wasn't grandiose enough...). Walked around the P and G Palais and the Champs Elysees before meeting up with Courtney and Renee for dinner. (Character: Renee, a friend of my from Harvard who is an actress and aspiring director, perhaps in film, as that was her program for the summer. She had been going crazy editing her first film and couldn't come out of the studio until now.) Went back to our favorite place, yet again, for another wonderful dinner! Went to a great gelatto place where they make you a huge flower out of all the flavors you want in your cone! It's really neat! Said my goodbyes to my wonderful guide and headed back to the hostel, only to stay up for many more hours laughing with my boisterous Austrian roommates.
Au revoir, Paris!
I couldn't get train tickets to Belgium for today, so I needed a place to stay for a night. I got into a pointless fight with the witch down at the desk who told me that there weren't, all of a sudden, any beds when every room I had been in had at least one empty bed in it, and that their other branch in the Latin Quarter, didn't have any either. Walking away to get my bag, I decided to call the number of the hostel. The witch picked up the phone, and very nicely told me that this branch didn't have any beds, but that the other one did and that she would transfer me to that number. How nice. Merci. Moved my stuff over to the Latin Quarter where I met Crystal in the bag room. (Character: Crystal, a music teacher who had just come from singing in an international choral festival at Canterbury Cathedral.) Crystal and I teamed up for the day and headed first to the St. Chappelle, a small chapel across from Notre Dame known for its expanse of stained glass windows and light. Wow, what a gem! My mouth literally dropped to the floor. I had seen pictures, but nothing compares to experiencing the space. First of all, there is so much glass. When you hear about Gothic cathedrals being light and airy, St. Chappelle is the best example. The light was streaming in an array of colors, as if one is walking through a kaleidoscope. Second of all, every inch of the stonework is painted, like Gothic cathedrals used to be. It's one thing to walk through the gray and looming cathedrals of stone, but it's a completely different thing to walk through one that is brightly colored with painted tapestries and designs on the walls. They're not frescoes, but more trompe l'oeil gemstones and marbles decorating the interior walls. Originally also, I believe, many of them were painted on the exterior as well, just like the Parthenon in Athens, believe it or not. The pictures just do not do this building justice...so go there and see it for yourself!
Crystal and I decided to go see what Montmartre is all about. Climb to the top of the hill to the Sacre Coeur, a huge, out of place looking church with gorgeous mosaics inside. Ambled down the winding streets in search of our truth, beauty, freedom, and love and instead found a few churches, some steep streets, and some amazing boulangeries! Ate to our heart's content and walked over to the Moulin Rouge to see what that was all about. Took a picture and one look at the surrounding area and decided to make our way out of that district and into one a little safer looking. Walked down to the Tuilleries to finish our stashes of olive bread and pan au chocolat (Paris does it better than anywhere else!).
Courtney met us at the Orangerie, a very small, but wonderful museum in the Tuilleries that is most famous for Claude Monet's Water Lilies painted on gigantic curved canvases for two oval rooms. One depicts the lake at daylight and the other at dusk and night. Beautiful. Courtney drooled over them and decided that she would, one day, paint them in her dining room and living room respectively. Good idea. I think I have a strange appreciate for Monet in that when you get up close to his painting, the paint looks like huge haphazard brush strokes, but when stand back, it's a perfect picture. I have a similar appreciate for Seurat, but more for Monet.
While Courtney was at class at the Louvre, Crystal and I walked down to the Pont Alexandre Trois (what a great name to say!) and admired all the gold pasted onto the bridge (if it wasn't grandiose enough...). Walked around the P and G Palais and the Champs Elysees before meeting up with Courtney and Renee for dinner. (Character: Renee, a friend of my from Harvard who is an actress and aspiring director, perhaps in film, as that was her program for the summer. She had been going crazy editing her first film and couldn't come out of the studio until now.) Went back to our favorite place, yet again, for another wonderful dinner! Went to a great gelatto place where they make you a huge flower out of all the flavors you want in your cone! It's really neat! Said my goodbyes to my wonderful guide and headed back to the hostel, only to stay up for many more hours laughing with my boisterous Austrian roommates.
Au revoir, Paris!
Cathedrals, Churches, and Corpses
What does a nice little Jewish girl do on a Sunday morning in Paris? Go to Mass at Notre Dame, of course. Mass was not very exciting, crowded, and full of tourists who got to walk around the in the cathedral while Mass was going on. Thus, going to Mass was definitely not worth it. Also, exterior of Notre Dame = amazing. Interior, not so much. I have seen more glorious, as I will get to in a future post. However, I met Claudia (it was her last day in Paris) in a very long line to climb up to the top to be, as my friend Nikki likes to say, Quasimodo. That was definitely worth it. The gargoyles are so neat and varied, and the big bell, not the one we all know from the book, but a big bell was on display. Good times had by all, including the gargoyle sticking his tongue out at the world. Said adios to Claudia and meandered through the St. Severin area into numerous churches, taking hundreds of pictures of buttressing. (You know you want to be that person to see all my pictures, right?)
Decided to walk up to the Pantheon, but first came across the gorgeous St. Genevieve. (Yes, she is there.) Really neat spiral staircases inside. Was tricked into going up into the Dome of the Pantheon, which I really had no desire to do. I thought you had to go on the tour to get to the tombs, but apparently I got a view, another view, of Paris instead. Lovely. Saw the Pendulum...clearly the Earth rotates. And saw lots of tombs in the basement of Marie Curie, Zola, Dumas, Rousseau, etc. Said my bonjours and met Courtney by the book carts on the Siene. Ate dinner again in our favorite area (truly, it's a great few streets!) and decided to conquer the Eiffel Tower!
OK, so we got in the first line at around 8:20 or so. It's a beautiful structure, especially when the sky is that saturated blue tinged with sunset pinks and oranges. The silouhettes are amazing. (See pictures...which will go up for sure!) We decided that even though I have prided myself in climbing up large monuments, the 1500 stairs to the top was a little much. We waited in the first line for tickets. Then we waited for the first elevator. By the time we got to the second balcony, the lines went all the way around the viewing platform in two directions. OK, we chose one and stood there for quite a long time, finally getting to the second elevator to the top. By this time, it was well after 11PM. Courtney then turns to me and says, "The Metro closes at midnight...we might not make it...and taxis are too expensive." What? "Yeah, we might not make it down on time to get home...so we'd have to walk." Um...what? OK, whatever, good, happy thoughts. So we ascend to the top and have a wonderful time overlooking Paris in a glittering tower of iron.
Getting down can't be much of a hassle, right? Wrong! The chaotic masses, with no rhyme or reason to a line, was crushing up against walls and elevators to get down...which I took, when Courtney kept saying that we wouldn't make the metro, to mean that everyone was trying to get to a stop before it closed. About 11:57PM, we are spat out of the last elevator and we start running to a station. The first station is closed for construction. I don't know why I was freaking out at this point...but I was. It didn't make sense that the last trains should leave at midnight, when in Boston they leave at 12:30, which everyone thinks it very early. Well, there is absolute chaos trying to get tickets and get down into the station. Courtney was going one way with one connection, I another with two. All the people, the crowds, the craziness...I assumed that yes, the Paris metro must close at 12. As we barrel past my first stop (again, closed for construction), I start to panic when I realize that my next route requires three changes, two of which are no where near my hostel. Great. Just as long as I don't get locked into a station...hopefully?
I get off at the first station and realize that the connection is in fact at the next station which is connected by at least a one mile tunnel underground. Other people are started to run. Never a good sign. So I start to run...faster...and faster...until I'm at full speed darting around other people and breathing pretty hard. I might be in better shape than I was at the beginning of the trip, but certainly not enough for a mile run at sprinting speed. I make my first connection...lucky I thought...and got to my second, only to find that that was another few miles away underground to a connecting station. So I run! At this point, I am bright red, sweating, and wheezing, not to mention exhausted from the day, so I think I was wheezing aloud, "Don't leave me behind!" I was getting some strange looks, but I chocked that up to my looking stupid running full speed. Just as I get to the second connection, I bump into someone who says, in English, "Slow down! The Metro doesn't close until 1!" Why I screamed back this, I don't know. "No! You're wrong! It closes at midnight! I have to keep running!" I make my second connection and see that in fact there are two more trains at least coming after mine. It was 12:30. Hmmm. I get to my third connection, another long jog, and when I get there, there are at least two more trains coming after mine. Still red and sweaty, I arrive at the hostel and ask the guy at the desk, "When does the Metro close?" "1AM or 2." It was 12:40...
Needless to say, I slept well and started off a bit late on a day trip out of Paris to Chartres. Unfortunately, it was raining, but all the better to set the mood for a dark stoned, looming cathedral. Chartres Cathedral is amazing, inside and out. I had studied it in a Gothic Cathedrals class and I remembered studying each stained glass window and the statuary programs. After circumventing the cathedral in the rain, I decided to head back to Paris to another cathedral, St. Denis, the burying ground for almost all the kings and queens of France. Another amazing cathedral in itself, but monumental tombs galore. All the Louis, Catherine d'Medici, Marie Antoinette, and my favorite...Dagobert! He is there! Amazing. I found it really interesting that many of the couples had themselves portrayed naked in marble laying down, and then again, clothed in bronze above. Courtney tells me this is to show their rich and pious souls separating from their earthly bodies and rising to Heaven with all of their glory. Intense.
Left the cathedrals for the day to go to a museum, the Pompidou Center. Built by Renzo Piano and Richard Rogers in 1977, this hugely controversial museum of modern art sports its color coded "guts," or pipes and airducts, on the outside along with a five storey glass escalator for views at the top. I agree...the building not only doesn't fit the skyscape in any way, even a modern way, and it isn't...nice. Yeah, that's all I'll say about it. Also, modern art...not my thing, as we all know. So when I came across 4 white canvii on a wall, I died laughing. Thank goodness it was closing time and the guards ushered me out for other reasons than insanity. I did see, Josh, your favorite room with all the padding and the piano. Apparently the gimmick with this piece is that the room is supposed to be so silent that it hurts. The piano symbolizes the potential for sound, but there should be no sound except for a painful buzzing in the ears. Apparently, also, no one told the curator that, so they now have an exhibit in the room outside with a TV that plays clips of ambulances and a surround sound system blaring emergency sirens. Painful, yes. What the silent piece's artist had in mind, no.
Meandered back to the St. Severin area and ate at a lovely bistro. Didn't talk to the other person who was alone next to me until dessert when she realized that I didn't speak French. We were both under the assumption that the other spoke French and didn't want to say anything. Had a great conversation with her about world travel, and then parted to go back to the hostel. I am still not sick of cathedrals...bring 'em on!
Decided to walk up to the Pantheon, but first came across the gorgeous St. Genevieve. (Yes, she is there.) Really neat spiral staircases inside. Was tricked into going up into the Dome of the Pantheon, which I really had no desire to do. I thought you had to go on the tour to get to the tombs, but apparently I got a view, another view, of Paris instead. Lovely. Saw the Pendulum...clearly the Earth rotates. And saw lots of tombs in the basement of Marie Curie, Zola, Dumas, Rousseau, etc. Said my bonjours and met Courtney by the book carts on the Siene. Ate dinner again in our favorite area (truly, it's a great few streets!) and decided to conquer the Eiffel Tower!
OK, so we got in the first line at around 8:20 or so. It's a beautiful structure, especially when the sky is that saturated blue tinged with sunset pinks and oranges. The silouhettes are amazing. (See pictures...which will go up for sure!) We decided that even though I have prided myself in climbing up large monuments, the 1500 stairs to the top was a little much. We waited in the first line for tickets. Then we waited for the first elevator. By the time we got to the second balcony, the lines went all the way around the viewing platform in two directions. OK, we chose one and stood there for quite a long time, finally getting to the second elevator to the top. By this time, it was well after 11PM. Courtney then turns to me and says, "The Metro closes at midnight...we might not make it...and taxis are too expensive." What? "Yeah, we might not make it down on time to get home...so we'd have to walk." Um...what? OK, whatever, good, happy thoughts. So we ascend to the top and have a wonderful time overlooking Paris in a glittering tower of iron.
Getting down can't be much of a hassle, right? Wrong! The chaotic masses, with no rhyme or reason to a line, was crushing up against walls and elevators to get down...which I took, when Courtney kept saying that we wouldn't make the metro, to mean that everyone was trying to get to a stop before it closed. About 11:57PM, we are spat out of the last elevator and we start running to a station. The first station is closed for construction. I don't know why I was freaking out at this point...but I was. It didn't make sense that the last trains should leave at midnight, when in Boston they leave at 12:30, which everyone thinks it very early. Well, there is absolute chaos trying to get tickets and get down into the station. Courtney was going one way with one connection, I another with two. All the people, the crowds, the craziness...I assumed that yes, the Paris metro must close at 12. As we barrel past my first stop (again, closed for construction), I start to panic when I realize that my next route requires three changes, two of which are no where near my hostel. Great. Just as long as I don't get locked into a station...hopefully?
I get off at the first station and realize that the connection is in fact at the next station which is connected by at least a one mile tunnel underground. Other people are started to run. Never a good sign. So I start to run...faster...and faster...until I'm at full speed darting around other people and breathing pretty hard. I might be in better shape than I was at the beginning of the trip, but certainly not enough for a mile run at sprinting speed. I make my first connection...lucky I thought...and got to my second, only to find that that was another few miles away underground to a connecting station. So I run! At this point, I am bright red, sweating, and wheezing, not to mention exhausted from the day, so I think I was wheezing aloud, "Don't leave me behind!" I was getting some strange looks, but I chocked that up to my looking stupid running full speed. Just as I get to the second connection, I bump into someone who says, in English, "Slow down! The Metro doesn't close until 1!" Why I screamed back this, I don't know. "No! You're wrong! It closes at midnight! I have to keep running!" I make my second connection and see that in fact there are two more trains at least coming after mine. It was 12:30. Hmmm. I get to my third connection, another long jog, and when I get there, there are at least two more trains coming after mine. Still red and sweaty, I arrive at the hostel and ask the guy at the desk, "When does the Metro close?" "1AM or 2." It was 12:40...
Needless to say, I slept well and started off a bit late on a day trip out of Paris to Chartres. Unfortunately, it was raining, but all the better to set the mood for a dark stoned, looming cathedral. Chartres Cathedral is amazing, inside and out. I had studied it in a Gothic Cathedrals class and I remembered studying each stained glass window and the statuary programs. After circumventing the cathedral in the rain, I decided to head back to Paris to another cathedral, St. Denis, the burying ground for almost all the kings and queens of France. Another amazing cathedral in itself, but monumental tombs galore. All the Louis, Catherine d'Medici, Marie Antoinette, and my favorite...Dagobert! He is there! Amazing. I found it really interesting that many of the couples had themselves portrayed naked in marble laying down, and then again, clothed in bronze above. Courtney tells me this is to show their rich and pious souls separating from their earthly bodies and rising to Heaven with all of their glory. Intense.
Left the cathedrals for the day to go to a museum, the Pompidou Center. Built by Renzo Piano and Richard Rogers in 1977, this hugely controversial museum of modern art sports its color coded "guts," or pipes and airducts, on the outside along with a five storey glass escalator for views at the top. I agree...the building not only doesn't fit the skyscape in any way, even a modern way, and it isn't...nice. Yeah, that's all I'll say about it. Also, modern art...not my thing, as we all know. So when I came across 4 white canvii on a wall, I died laughing. Thank goodness it was closing time and the guards ushered me out for other reasons than insanity. I did see, Josh, your favorite room with all the padding and the piano. Apparently the gimmick with this piece is that the room is supposed to be so silent that it hurts. The piano symbolizes the potential for sound, but there should be no sound except for a painful buzzing in the ears. Apparently, also, no one told the curator that, so they now have an exhibit in the room outside with a TV that plays clips of ambulances and a surround sound system blaring emergency sirens. Painful, yes. What the silent piece's artist had in mind, no.
Meandered back to the St. Severin area and ate at a lovely bistro. Didn't talk to the other person who was alone next to me until dessert when she realized that I didn't speak French. We were both under the assumption that the other spoke French and didn't want to say anything. Had a great conversation with her about world travel, and then parted to go back to the hostel. I am still not sick of cathedrals...bring 'em on!
Thursday, August 23, 2007
More Paris, S.V.P...
Then I conquered the Louvre. And I when I say conquered, I mean visited every room that was open for viewing, seeing every painting there was to see in those rooms, stopping and observing the ones I liked, having Courtney explain the history of many of the paintings (as her class takes place at the Louvre...what a great program), and body checking tour groups to get to the overrated stars of the show like the Mona Lisa and the Venus de Milo. Started out early with my new hostel friend, Claudia (character: Claudia, from Argentina, who also liked to have packed days of activity), and beat the crowds into the museum (what line?), got our audio guides, and headed out to get the Mona Lisa over and done with. Walked up the stairs and there, standing gloriously, was the Winged Victory, which rates in my top 5 favorite sculptures of all time. I didn't think much of it in pictures, but it is actually a beautiful and moving sculpture...and it's on a boat. Something that I think is integral to its composition, but is always edited out in every picture I had ever seen of it. We turn the corner and rush through galleries of masterpieces, pulling each other along as we gawk in awe, because we really just wanted to get to her before all the tour groups got there. Well...I have never seen such ridiculousness and chaos. It's on its own wall, is set under glass (I really hope the rumors that it's a fake is false), and is larger than I thought it was going to be, but she still doesn't warrant the kind of attention that she gets. She might be nice, has a pretty smile, and potentially is pregnant, but, she's just a girl in a frame, much like the other girls in frames. I don't know, I just didn't get why it was SO big. (Oh wait...DAMN DAN BROWN and his books. Did you know that you can get a specific Da Vinci Code audio guide that will just take you to all the pieces that are featured in the book? WHY?! This is tourism gone wrong.) Also, if you walk up to her (which is actually a difficult task) and then turn around, you see the most beautiful, intricate painting that takes up the entire wall! Much more worth it...and no one is giving it the time of day. Le sigh. I guess the biggies are introductions into the art world for most people and hopefully they will find the glory of other art forms...I don't know. Mona Lisa, you are a diva with an ego.
Everywhere you turned in the Louvre, there was some masterpiece to point and shout, "WHOA! That's HERE!" It truly does trump every other museum in the world. I guess that is what comes of emperors saying, "I want that in my museum" and then taking it. But this place is mind blowing. Room after room. My jaw was tired from dragging on the floor. And a cool thing is the old castle keep in the basement...go down and check it out. Courtney's favorite room, which, when she met up with me, she ran me to, is the Room of the Ego of Catherine d'Medici, aka a room with twenty or so life sized potraits of Catherine in all of her glory. I think Courtney wants a similar gallery some day.
Because it was the late night, the museum was open until 10PM. I arrived somewhere around 9:30AM and around 9:30PM I found myself at the Venus de Milo, officially finished with every room in the Louvre. And they said it can't be done! (And for all you nay-sayers out there, shaking your heads and denying that I saw anything, I took my time, and in the last hour, I realized that I might in fact be able to see everything, so I walked a little quicker through Mesopotamia to get to the ancient Greek and Roman statues.)
After Courtney's class, we went back to the St. Severin/St. Michael's area for dinner, and then met up with Courtney's program mates in the gigantic line at W.H. Smith for our copies of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows! I know I posted about this already...the doors opened at 1:01AM, taking into account the hour difference between us and London and giving the British a one minute head start. Courtney couldn't wait to read it, and I think they lot of them started reading it in the taxi after they walked me home. I tried to read some, but one of the roommates complained about my tiny flashlight, so I crashed instead after page 63. Besides...my mind was quite full for the day...
Before meeting up with Courtney for our reading picnic in the park (apparently she stayed up until 5AM, so she is way ahead of me!), I walked over to the Opera Garnier, aka the Phantom of the Opera Opera House. Got my ticket for the English tour and found a great internet cafe to crash in for an hour since the internet cubicle at the hostel ate 2 euro and they wouldn't give me the money back. If you are going to see the opera house, don't go on the tour. It isn't necessary. You can go to any of the places yourself, and they only spoil the details in the book(/musical). Apparently there isn't a lake. Way back there used to be a creek of some sort, but by the time of the book's publication, there was a large water tank which might have been an inspiration. (?) The story the tour tells of Box #5 is that the directors were sitting in their box during a terrible performance of a sick soprano when they heard from a patron in the next box, or Box #5, say "That woman croaks like a frog!" The chandelier never fell, but one of the counterweights did when they were lowering it after cleaning. It crashed through the ceiling and killed a woman in the seats below. Or so the stories go... But the rest of the building is absolutely stunning! Marble and gold everywhere. And Garnier, the architect, put himself...and his wife...everywhere from busts to mosaics. Apparently one of the halls for the audience during intermission is mirrored on the other side of the building with all the gold and marble, but is strictly for the performers' warm ups. Wow. That's inspiring.
Was in a church when Courtney called and said to meet her at the Jardin Luxembourg. She had procured cheeses, nutella, fruit, and pan. With our picnic of food, our small patch of green grass to actually sit on (which is a rare comodity in Paris), and our great piece of literature, we lounged for the rest of the day, reading furiously until Courtney got almost to the end and said, "You must go home! If I reach the end, I know my reactions and hysterical crying will give it away!" So I fled back to the hostel and read in the lobby. At around 1AM, Courtney called to say that she had finished it, so I knew I had to keep going. Finally, at 4AM, I triumphantly and exhaustedly finished the book, which I hail as the best one in the series. J.K., you are truly a genius. Thank you for your wonderful masterpieces of British literature. Give it 50 years and excepts will most certainly be in the Norton Anthology of British Literature. It's a sure bet.
Enough of me tonight. Bon nuit!
Everywhere you turned in the Louvre, there was some masterpiece to point and shout, "WHOA! That's HERE!" It truly does trump every other museum in the world. I guess that is what comes of emperors saying, "I want that in my museum" and then taking it. But this place is mind blowing. Room after room. My jaw was tired from dragging on the floor. And a cool thing is the old castle keep in the basement...go down and check it out. Courtney's favorite room, which, when she met up with me, she ran me to, is the Room of the Ego of Catherine d'Medici, aka a room with twenty or so life sized potraits of Catherine in all of her glory. I think Courtney wants a similar gallery some day.
Because it was the late night, the museum was open until 10PM. I arrived somewhere around 9:30AM and around 9:30PM I found myself at the Venus de Milo, officially finished with every room in the Louvre. And they said it can't be done! (And for all you nay-sayers out there, shaking your heads and denying that I saw anything, I took my time, and in the last hour, I realized that I might in fact be able to see everything, so I walked a little quicker through Mesopotamia to get to the ancient Greek and Roman statues.)
After Courtney's class, we went back to the St. Severin/St. Michael's area for dinner, and then met up with Courtney's program mates in the gigantic line at W.H. Smith for our copies of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows! I know I posted about this already...the doors opened at 1:01AM, taking into account the hour difference between us and London and giving the British a one minute head start. Courtney couldn't wait to read it, and I think they lot of them started reading it in the taxi after they walked me home. I tried to read some, but one of the roommates complained about my tiny flashlight, so I crashed instead after page 63. Besides...my mind was quite full for the day...
Before meeting up with Courtney for our reading picnic in the park (apparently she stayed up until 5AM, so she is way ahead of me!), I walked over to the Opera Garnier, aka the Phantom of the Opera Opera House. Got my ticket for the English tour and found a great internet cafe to crash in for an hour since the internet cubicle at the hostel ate 2 euro and they wouldn't give me the money back. If you are going to see the opera house, don't go on the tour. It isn't necessary. You can go to any of the places yourself, and they only spoil the details in the book(/musical). Apparently there isn't a lake. Way back there used to be a creek of some sort, but by the time of the book's publication, there was a large water tank which might have been an inspiration. (?) The story the tour tells of Box #5 is that the directors were sitting in their box during a terrible performance of a sick soprano when they heard from a patron in the next box, or Box #5, say "That woman croaks like a frog!" The chandelier never fell, but one of the counterweights did when they were lowering it after cleaning. It crashed through the ceiling and killed a woman in the seats below. Or so the stories go... But the rest of the building is absolutely stunning! Marble and gold everywhere. And Garnier, the architect, put himself...and his wife...everywhere from busts to mosaics. Apparently one of the halls for the audience during intermission is mirrored on the other side of the building with all the gold and marble, but is strictly for the performers' warm ups. Wow. That's inspiring.
Was in a church when Courtney called and said to meet her at the Jardin Luxembourg. She had procured cheeses, nutella, fruit, and pan. With our picnic of food, our small patch of green grass to actually sit on (which is a rare comodity in Paris), and our great piece of literature, we lounged for the rest of the day, reading furiously until Courtney got almost to the end and said, "You must go home! If I reach the end, I know my reactions and hysterical crying will give it away!" So I fled back to the hostel and read in the lobby. At around 1AM, Courtney called to say that she had finished it, so I knew I had to keep going. Finally, at 4AM, I triumphantly and exhaustedly finished the book, which I hail as the best one in the series. J.K., you are truly a genius. Thank you for your wonderful masterpieces of British literature. Give it 50 years and excepts will most certainly be in the Norton Anthology of British Literature. It's a sure bet.
Enough of me tonight. Bon nuit!
Monday, August 20, 2007
Bonjour, Paris!
OK, sorry for the lack of posts. Yes, I am home and not stuck in Luxembourg, as some readers may have believed, and were rightfully concerned. Anyway, I will be finishing up the travel section in the next few days and then illustrating this verbosity with pictures! But first, conquering the French...
You always hear about the rudeness or excessive pride, as I would like to call it, of the Parisians, and the frustration one encounters trying to speak to a Frenchman. If you don't speak French, he does not want to give you the time of day. If you try to speak French, he will be offended that you have just botched his language and will probably challenge you to a verbal duel parrying with flourishes of his beauteous sounds and tricking you with his oh so quiet killer, the silent suffix. But, of the places where French is the native language, Paris is probably the only one that is justified in its excessive pride. Not that other parts of the world are not fabulously French, but in order to match the level of reputation that proceeds it, Paris indeed knocked me off my feet. Every city can be described in a word, and Paris's word is "grandiose." When one searches the thesaurus, grandiose encompasses all other words one might use to describe Paris: grand, big, theatrical, ostentatious, imposing, extravagant, indulgent, ceremonious, impressive, monumental, majestic, overwhelming, and most certainly, glorious. So yes, grandiose it is, grandiose to the power of 10 really. I also must give a shout out and a huge thank you to my guide, Courtney, who ushered me around to the most fabulous places, "duelled" with fussy French waiters, impressed me with her knowledge of the history of painting, art conservation, museum curation, and Catherine de Medici, and, most importantly, reserved my copy of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. (Character: Courtney, a rising junior at Harvard in the psychology department, a brilliant set designer and oil painter, a lover of rapid verbosity and good cheese, and an amazing friend who had never been out of the north east of the US before and has courageously expanded her horizons. I am very proud of you, grasshopper.)
I started by schleping to my hostel, which turned out to be literally next to the Louvre. I couldn't have asked for a better location, and I got it for 7 nights only 2 days before showing up. Remarkable. I started by Paris tour at sunset, meeting Courtney at the pyramids of the Louvre (which I actually really love) and walking along the Siene to the Eiffel Tower, watched it light up and blink for awhile, and then ate dinner at a lovely cafe. I had a great feeling about this city.
I decided to be like Napoleon and conquer Paris in a day...well, not exactly, but today was a day that would have broke an odometer. I started off going to a periphery monument way the end of the metro line at La Defense. Built on an axis with the Louvre, Concord, the Champs-Elysees, and the Arc d'Triomphe, La Defense is the "modern" business district of Paris. I guess it was a good thing that they banished all the ugly skyscrapers to one section on the outskirts of Paris proper so to prevent any of them from ruining the landscape, skyscape, and scale of the city. (Though the Eiffel Tower is pretty imposing and was considered, at its time, an eyesore...maybe give La Defense 50 years...or not.) To echo the Arc d'Triomphe, the Grand Arch, a gigantic white square, was built at the very end of the axis. After walking from the Grand Arch to the other end of La Defense, I decided that it was enough ugliness for a day and took the metro back to the Arc d'Triomphe, which I love. It is the epitome of grandiosity in Paris! Started a loop to the Parc Monceau, a lovely park in the middle of a nice neighborhood, and to St. Augustin church. (I decided that in order to see Paris correctly, I needed to see a park, a church, a monument, and a museum every day. 3 checks!) Walked to the Grand Palais and the Petit Palais (what original names!) which are these amazingly monumental structures by the Siene. While checking out the beautiful gates of the Petit P., a guard told me that there was a museum inside that was free. (4th check!) Anyone know if the Petit P. Museum is the Beaux-Art museum, or just another museum of Beaux-Art? Anyway, it was a great museum in a beautiful building. Finished the loop by going up the Champs-Elysees back to the Arc d'Triomphe. On my walk up this famous, touristy, and overpriced street of high end shops, I decided to walk into one of them just to see how ridiculous it really was. Decided on the Louis Vuitton store, because if I was ever going to walk into this store, it might as well be on the Champs-Elysees in Paris, and was immediately clung onto by my own personal shopper. Shocked and appalled by the price tags, I was horrified when the woman showed me a keychain ("just a small trinket to remind you of Paris") that was a plastic cube with a fake gold metal square that had "Louis Vuitton Paris" stamped into it. I'm thinking maybe $35...$50 even. No...170 euro...that's about $240! "It's plastic!" I screamed. "Yes, but it says Louis Vuitton..." remarked the woman. Au revoir! And the sad thing, people all around me were pulling out their credit cards to buy.
Continued my march from the Arc to the Trocadero, I think it's a complex of buildings celebrating some battle victory...as is everything here, and put my feet in the pool overlooking the Eiffel Tower for the second time. Still love the tower, but the lines are still way too long, so I walked under it to the Invalides to Napoleon's tomb. Why a guy! Insanely grand, with twelve larger than life sized angel around him, encased in six stacking coffins perhaps including one or two of lead, Napoleon rests in the center of the universe, it seems, under a gorgeous dome. It is so grand for such a little man. Quickly passed through the military museum to get to the Rodin Museum before it closed. Two thumbs up for the Rodin Museum! First of all, his stuff is fantastic. Second of the all, the way all of it presented is fantastic, including many pieces on rotating tables so you can see all the sides. Third of all, the garden is gorgeous. I am going to vote that The Thinker, the small one inside which was first presented in a salon, is my favorite. Though his Hand of G-d and the Gates of Hell are also amazing. Think I'm done? Heck no. I met up with Courtney to go to the late night hours of the Museum D'Orsay. The D'Orsay is the dumping ground for all the "rejects" of the Louvre for one reason or another. Rejects is really selling this place short...it's amazing. I should start to find synonyms for that, but truly the museum is fantastic. Ate dinner in the St. Severin area (great area for cheap entree, plat, dessert menus!) and called it a good day clocking in with 2 churches, 4 museums, 1.5 parks (if you count the green around Eiffel), and 4 or 5 monuments.
OK, that was a big block of text. I shall post for now and move on to a different post.
You always hear about the rudeness or excessive pride, as I would like to call it, of the Parisians, and the frustration one encounters trying to speak to a Frenchman. If you don't speak French, he does not want to give you the time of day. If you try to speak French, he will be offended that you have just botched his language and will probably challenge you to a verbal duel parrying with flourishes of his beauteous sounds and tricking you with his oh so quiet killer, the silent suffix. But, of the places where French is the native language, Paris is probably the only one that is justified in its excessive pride. Not that other parts of the world are not fabulously French, but in order to match the level of reputation that proceeds it, Paris indeed knocked me off my feet. Every city can be described in a word, and Paris's word is "grandiose." When one searches the thesaurus, grandiose encompasses all other words one might use to describe Paris: grand, big, theatrical, ostentatious, imposing, extravagant, indulgent, ceremonious, impressive, monumental, majestic, overwhelming, and most certainly, glorious. So yes, grandiose it is, grandiose to the power of 10 really. I also must give a shout out and a huge thank you to my guide, Courtney, who ushered me around to the most fabulous places, "duelled" with fussy French waiters, impressed me with her knowledge of the history of painting, art conservation, museum curation, and Catherine de Medici, and, most importantly, reserved my copy of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. (Character: Courtney, a rising junior at Harvard in the psychology department, a brilliant set designer and oil painter, a lover of rapid verbosity and good cheese, and an amazing friend who had never been out of the north east of the US before and has courageously expanded her horizons. I am very proud of you, grasshopper.)
I started by schleping to my hostel, which turned out to be literally next to the Louvre. I couldn't have asked for a better location, and I got it for 7 nights only 2 days before showing up. Remarkable. I started by Paris tour at sunset, meeting Courtney at the pyramids of the Louvre (which I actually really love) and walking along the Siene to the Eiffel Tower, watched it light up and blink for awhile, and then ate dinner at a lovely cafe. I had a great feeling about this city.
I decided to be like Napoleon and conquer Paris in a day...well, not exactly, but today was a day that would have broke an odometer. I started off going to a periphery monument way the end of the metro line at La Defense. Built on an axis with the Louvre, Concord, the Champs-Elysees, and the Arc d'Triomphe, La Defense is the "modern" business district of Paris. I guess it was a good thing that they banished all the ugly skyscrapers to one section on the outskirts of Paris proper so to prevent any of them from ruining the landscape, skyscape, and scale of the city. (Though the Eiffel Tower is pretty imposing and was considered, at its time, an eyesore...maybe give La Defense 50 years...or not.) To echo the Arc d'Triomphe, the Grand Arch, a gigantic white square, was built at the very end of the axis. After walking from the Grand Arch to the other end of La Defense, I decided that it was enough ugliness for a day and took the metro back to the Arc d'Triomphe, which I love. It is the epitome of grandiosity in Paris! Started a loop to the Parc Monceau, a lovely park in the middle of a nice neighborhood, and to St. Augustin church. (I decided that in order to see Paris correctly, I needed to see a park, a church, a monument, and a museum every day. 3 checks!) Walked to the Grand Palais and the Petit Palais (what original names!) which are these amazingly monumental structures by the Siene. While checking out the beautiful gates of the Petit P., a guard told me that there was a museum inside that was free. (4th check!) Anyone know if the Petit P. Museum is the Beaux-Art museum, or just another museum of Beaux-Art? Anyway, it was a great museum in a beautiful building. Finished the loop by going up the Champs-Elysees back to the Arc d'Triomphe. On my walk up this famous, touristy, and overpriced street of high end shops, I decided to walk into one of them just to see how ridiculous it really was. Decided on the Louis Vuitton store, because if I was ever going to walk into this store, it might as well be on the Champs-Elysees in Paris, and was immediately clung onto by my own personal shopper. Shocked and appalled by the price tags, I was horrified when the woman showed me a keychain ("just a small trinket to remind you of Paris") that was a plastic cube with a fake gold metal square that had "Louis Vuitton Paris" stamped into it. I'm thinking maybe $35...$50 even. No...170 euro...that's about $240! "It's plastic!" I screamed. "Yes, but it says Louis Vuitton..." remarked the woman. Au revoir! And the sad thing, people all around me were pulling out their credit cards to buy.
Continued my march from the Arc to the Trocadero, I think it's a complex of buildings celebrating some battle victory...as is everything here, and put my feet in the pool overlooking the Eiffel Tower for the second time. Still love the tower, but the lines are still way too long, so I walked under it to the Invalides to Napoleon's tomb. Why a guy! Insanely grand, with twelve larger than life sized angel around him, encased in six stacking coffins perhaps including one or two of lead, Napoleon rests in the center of the universe, it seems, under a gorgeous dome. It is so grand for such a little man. Quickly passed through the military museum to get to the Rodin Museum before it closed. Two thumbs up for the Rodin Museum! First of all, his stuff is fantastic. Second of the all, the way all of it presented is fantastic, including many pieces on rotating tables so you can see all the sides. Third of all, the garden is gorgeous. I am going to vote that The Thinker, the small one inside which was first presented in a salon, is my favorite. Though his Hand of G-d and the Gates of Hell are also amazing. Think I'm done? Heck no. I met up with Courtney to go to the late night hours of the Museum D'Orsay. The D'Orsay is the dumping ground for all the "rejects" of the Louvre for one reason or another. Rejects is really selling this place short...it's amazing. I should start to find synonyms for that, but truly the museum is fantastic. Ate dinner in the St. Severin area (great area for cheap entree, plat, dessert menus!) and called it a good day clocking in with 2 churches, 4 museums, 1.5 parks (if you count the green around Eiffel), and 4 or 5 monuments.
OK, that was a big block of text. I shall post for now and move on to a different post.
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