VERSAILLES AND ON
Thursday 10/5/06 – Friday 10/6/06
During our planning stage, this was a day we didn’t really know how to fill. Should we just kill a day soaking in the ambiance of Paris or do something special. We finally opt for special, and Versailles is really special. To get to Versailles we have to catch an RER (suburban) train and to do that we have to walk back to the St. Michel station. We hit the Starbucks for big coffees to go and as we are walking down the street sipping, an old woman comes by on a bike mimicking our sipping and shaking her fist at us. Obviously in some circles one doesn’t drink their coffee on the street.
The ride to Versailles takes about 30 minutes and, after a bit of confusion about how to pay after the fact, the walk to the Palace takes another ten minutes. It is another gorgeous day and this seems like a pleasant little town. The first view of the Palace is daunting. How big is it? Louis XIV built this place in the 1600s because he didn’t like his Paris digs which we now refer to as the Louvre. He used Versailles to consolidate his government and nobility in one place where he could keep an eye on it and them. At any one time there would be as many as 5,000 nobles in residence in the Palace and many times that number running around with meals, carriages and messages. 300 years ago the main entry to the Palace was always crowded with people coming and going and others selling things. That’s how we found it today.
France in the late 1600s was the center of the universe, and the cultural elite throughout the world prided themselves on speaking French and being smiled upon by King Louis. As we enter the Palace we are guided through multiple halls strewn with period works of art and mannequins reenacting social gatherings. What an unbelievable world that must have been in its heyday. We move from one salon to the next, each with its own style, carvings and décor fitting for the home of the Sun King. The Hall of Mirrors is 250 feet long with 17 arched mirrors reflecting the view of the gardens from 17 matching arched windows. There are 24 gilded candelabras that must have been very impressive and maybe a little smoky when everything was lit for a big party. The Queen’s chambers seem a little open to us, but considering that all royal offspring had to be born in public to ensure their heritage, there probably weren’t too many secrets.
We tumble out into the gardens and, with the Palace behind us, the view down the Royal Drive is breathtaking. It is a couple of miles to the end of the formal garden area in front of us and that includes hundreds of statues, dozens of ponds and a mile long grand canal. As we walk the length of the gardens we are mesmerized by the tamed perfection and the zillions of man hours spent making it look like this for the past three hundred years. At the end of the garden we veer to the right to the Grand Trianon where the King could get away from the hustle and bustle of the big house. Louis XIV would use it a couple nights a week, but the later Louies (XV and XVI) spent increasing amounts of time here. A short walk from here is the Petit Trianon which XV built as a botany center. When XVI married Marie-Antoinette, she used it as her hideout.
During the revolution when Louis XVI and bride Marie had a little taken “off the top,” the palace was looted and fell into disrepair until Napoleon laid claim to the place. If the folks didn’t like a King, perhaps an Emperor would be OK. Napoleon later gave the whole operation to the people of France to preserve forever.
Leaving the Palace we walk into the Village of Versailles looking for lunch, and a fellow who speaks no English is able to direct four people who speak no French to the place they are looking for. We find Ala Cote Bretonne in an alley near a commercial square and we are just in time to get lunch before they close. This is a “Creperie” so we all get one form of crepe or another, a couple sweet and a couple savory.
It is getting to be late afternoon when we arrive back on our turf and the mood is a little melancholy. We take one last stroll around the neighborhood trying to absorb the last ounce of the place. There are wonderful fruit and vegetable shops, a butcher’s window where ducks are spinning on a rotisserie while the fat drips down into a tray of potatoes, shiny tortes and sugary pastries are everywhere and huge wheels of cheese can be found on every corner.
At 5:00 we grab our last hurrah at Pub St. Germain. It’s martinis all around with pictures and laughter whether there is anything funny or not. We even find ourselves nodding along with the euro-techno-trash music. When we wear out our welcome here we walk down to Jardins Germain for our “last supper.” We sip our wine and enjoy our food and try to figure out how this week disappeared so fast. We can’t think of a second that we didn’t enjoy, even the old lady on the bike.
It’s getting late and we have busy days tomorrow. One last walk down Boulevard St. Germain, two more blocks on crazy le Buci and into our hotel with one last shout of our room numbers in French. Our night clerk is nice enough to snap one last group photo and we’re done. The trip ends like it began—hug, hug, see you at home.
Dave & Mary are out early so that they have plenty of time to get lost on their way to the airport and so they do. No problem. They get reoriented and find the airport with time to spare. John & Mary have a little time to take one more walk this morning before catching the Metro to the Gare du Nord station. With a little help from a security lady they get to their check-in spot and catch the Eurostar to London. The train goes whizzing past the airport and with a couple of waves out the window this adventure comes to an end.
Adieu!
Thursday 10/5/06 – Friday 10/6/06
During our planning stage, this was a day we didn’t really know how to fill. Should we just kill a day soaking in the ambiance of Paris or do something special. We finally opt for special, and Versailles is really special. To get to Versailles we have to catch an RER (suburban) train and to do that we have to walk back to the St. Michel station. We hit the Starbucks for big coffees to go and as we are walking down the street sipping, an old woman comes by on a bike mimicking our sipping and shaking her fist at us. Obviously in some circles one doesn’t drink their coffee on the street.
The ride to Versailles takes about 30 minutes and, after a bit of confusion about how to pay after the fact, the walk to the Palace takes another ten minutes. It is another gorgeous day and this seems like a pleasant little town. The first view of the Palace is daunting. How big is it? Louis XIV built this place in the 1600s because he didn’t like his Paris digs which we now refer to as the Louvre. He used Versailles to consolidate his government and nobility in one place where he could keep an eye on it and them. At any one time there would be as many as 5,000 nobles in residence in the Palace and many times that number running around with meals, carriages and messages. 300 years ago the main entry to the Palace was always crowded with people coming and going and others selling things. That’s how we found it today.
France in the late 1600s was the center of the universe, and the cultural elite throughout the world prided themselves on speaking French and being smiled upon by King Louis. As we enter the Palace we are guided through multiple halls strewn with period works of art and mannequins reenacting social gatherings. What an unbelievable world that must have been in its heyday. We move from one salon to the next, each with its own style, carvings and décor fitting for the home of the Sun King. The Hall of Mirrors is 250 feet long with 17 arched mirrors reflecting the view of the gardens from 17 matching arched windows. There are 24 gilded candelabras that must have been very impressive and maybe a little smoky when everything was lit for a big party. The Queen’s chambers seem a little open to us, but considering that all royal offspring had to be born in public to ensure their heritage, there probably weren’t too many secrets.
We tumble out into the gardens and, with the Palace behind us, the view down the Royal Drive is breathtaking. It is a couple of miles to the end of the formal garden area in front of us and that includes hundreds of statues, dozens of ponds and a mile long grand canal. As we walk the length of the gardens we are mesmerized by the tamed perfection and the zillions of man hours spent making it look like this for the past three hundred years. At the end of the garden we veer to the right to the Grand Trianon where the King could get away from the hustle and bustle of the big house. Louis XIV would use it a couple nights a week, but the later Louies (XV and XVI) spent increasing amounts of time here. A short walk from here is the Petit Trianon which XV built as a botany center. When XVI married Marie-Antoinette, she used it as her hideout.
During the revolution when Louis XVI and bride Marie had a little taken “off the top,” the palace was looted and fell into disrepair until Napoleon laid claim to the place. If the folks didn’t like a King, perhaps an Emperor would be OK. Napoleon later gave the whole operation to the people of France to preserve forever.
Leaving the Palace we walk into the Village of Versailles looking for lunch, and a fellow who speaks no English is able to direct four people who speak no French to the place they are looking for. We find Ala Cote Bretonne in an alley near a commercial square and we are just in time to get lunch before they close. This is a “Creperie” so we all get one form of crepe or another, a couple sweet and a couple savory.
It is getting to be late afternoon when we arrive back on our turf and the mood is a little melancholy. We take one last stroll around the neighborhood trying to absorb the last ounce of the place. There are wonderful fruit and vegetable shops, a butcher’s window where ducks are spinning on a rotisserie while the fat drips down into a tray of potatoes, shiny tortes and sugary pastries are everywhere and huge wheels of cheese can be found on every corner.
At 5:00 we grab our last hurrah at Pub St. Germain. It’s martinis all around with pictures and laughter whether there is anything funny or not. We even find ourselves nodding along with the euro-techno-trash music. When we wear out our welcome here we walk down to Jardins Germain for our “last supper.” We sip our wine and enjoy our food and try to figure out how this week disappeared so fast. We can’t think of a second that we didn’t enjoy, even the old lady on the bike.
It’s getting late and we have busy days tomorrow. One last walk down Boulevard St. Germain, two more blocks on crazy le Buci and into our hotel with one last shout of our room numbers in French. Our night clerk is nice enough to snap one last group photo and we’re done. The trip ends like it began—hug, hug, see you at home.
Dave & Mary are out early so that they have plenty of time to get lost on their way to the airport and so they do. No problem. They get reoriented and find the airport with time to spare. John & Mary have a little time to take one more walk this morning before catching the Metro to the Gare du Nord station. With a little help from a security lady they get to their check-in spot and catch the Eurostar to London. The train goes whizzing past the airport and with a couple of waves out the window this adventure comes to an end.
Adieu!
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