Cornell Girl Meets World: Palaces and Paintings: Paris, Part 2

A continuation of the journal entries from my Europe trip.

Paris, Day 3

Versailles all day, and I am EXHAUSTED. Our entire tour consisted of the Palace, the Gardens, and Marie Antoinette’s estate that had several other palaces and homes enclosed within it. The normal palace was majestic and grand. I think I would have been more impressed if I hadn’t seen similar buildings for three days straight while in Florence. Nonetheless, it was very nice. Have some pictures.

Proposing to Megan in Versailles. We took couple-y pictures in Sancre Couer, and decided to continue the trend in Versailles.

The famous Hall of Mirrors in Versailles.

The gardens, however, were much more fun to wander through. Sadly, the greenery was pretty much dead from the winter, and the fountains were turned off, but it was still very interesting—and enormous! It took over an hour to walk the length of the gardens, and there were dozens of fountains and gardens laid out. I also found snails sleeping on some trees; I was very proud of myself.

Cool dragon fountain.

Construction in the gardens.

SNAIL.

SNAIL + MEGAN.

Selfies in Marie Antoinette's mirror. Yup, I really did this.

Finding our way....

The houses on Marie Antoinette’s estates were by far my favorite. While the palace is grand and all, it’s very intimidating—I could never live there permanently. The other three houses were much more inviting and livable. Of those three, the country house was the best—it had about a dozen quaint little buildings with thatched roofs and ponds and gardens…it was so peaceful and relaxing.

Temple of Love!

Marie Antoinette's country home.

While this doesn’t sound like much, we actually walked around for about seven hours straight—hence my exhaustion. We then came home, ate some Ramen noodles because we’re cheap and oh so classy, and went straight to bed. Tomorrow is looking similarly tiring; we’re walking down the Champs de Elyse, through the Arc de Triumph, eating at some chocolate places, and finishing up with a visit to the Louvre. Also, as a random side note, I recognize some of the metro stations from a Nancy Drew computer game I played when I was younger. While I am the first to proclaim the absolute uselessness and stupidity of computer and video games, I thought it was kind of cool that I know some of the names. Au revoir!

Paris, Days 4-5

Thursday night was the most miserable night I’ve ever had. Two of my friends checked into their room Thursday morning, and were pleased to discover it was a mere three floors up, instead of the seven we had the day before. By the time we got back that night, however, it had magically switched to room seventeen….also seven floors up. I think, though, my enormous hostel room tops everything: I had fourteen roommates that night, plus Chinese water torture. There was a leak in the ceiling, and it dripped all night long right next to my head. It was awful. The man two beds next door was snoring, and to top it all off, the hostel staff barged into the room at 2am, woke everyone up, and proceeded to have a roll call. It appeared that they had put someone in the wrong room, and had to rectify the situation…at 2am. Let it be said that I have found neither peace nor love at the Peace and Love Hostel in Paris.

Friday was another crazy day; we went to the Arc de Triumph and walked down the Champs de Elysee. On the way, we found the best macaroons in the world. The only macaroons I’ve ever had have been little egg-whitey pouf things, but these were French and so obviously better. The egg white stuff was still there, but sandwiched between two wafers of egg white deliciousness was jam-y goodness. I didn’t know what to expect, but macaroons far exceeded my hopes. I am determined to replicate them when I get back to Dublin.

Arc de Triumph!

Me and my excellent macaroons.

The famous Ponte de Alexander.

I touched the man on the bridge....

....Megan was not so eager.

We then wandered around some thrift shops, tried on ridiculous costumes, and went to a creperie for lunch. Crepes aren’t really my thing, I’ve decided. The chocolatier we visited next was equally disappointing; while the hot chocolate was priced to be delicious, it nowhere near matched Angelina’s. But you can only win so many.

The Louvre was next on our list. We arrived right in time for the free-for-all-under-16 time period, 6 to 9:45 pm. It was completely exhausting, and we definitely didn’t see everything. We kind of meandered from famous painting to famous painting, all while whining about how much our feet hurt and how badly we needed to sleep. I’m really not an art person—my favorite paintings/art objects were either a)already famous, so I knew I had to appreciate them in order to be cultured, or b) small out-of-the way paintings ignored by the general public that had interesting-looking people in them.
Of course, I saw the Mona Lisa, but no, my life wasn’t changed. I honestly don’t understand why it is so famous. Her eyes do seem to follow you, which is kind of cool, but other than that, it’s a small, dark painting of an ugly woman. I would never have stopped to look at it if I hadn’t already known it was famous. I suppose this is the nail in the coffin for my artistic sensibilities.

The Winged Victory, originally perched on a cliff on Greek island of Samothrace.

The Mona Lisa. What a creeper, staring like that.

Fist bumping the statue!

Cupid and Psyche.

Venus de Milo!

His sexy face?

Saturday was more quiet. We first visited the Pantheon, a church-type place inspired by the Pantheon. The best part was the crypts, which were echoey and and eerie.

Victor Hugo and Alexander Dumas were buried here!

The crypt.

We spent the morning at Rue Mouffetard, a farmer’s market area that had lots of little shops and cheese places and butchers and fresh fruit stands. From there I wandered down the Seine River to the Musee d’Orsay. There are promenades all along the river, and I found a beautiful, quiet little park off of Pont Neuf and sat by steps leading down to the water. I stayed there for awhile until my conscience prodded me into action—how could I waste a day in Paris like this? So I headed to the Musee d’Orsay and fell asleep instead.

This is not technically true. I mean, I did fall asleep, but not right away. First I looked at some statues and paintings, and then I went upstairs to see the Impressionist paintings, and then I fell asleep. There were deliciously comfortable couches with person-sized wedges carved out, and every seat was filled by a sleepy patron. I snuggled into the couch and passed out for a good half hour. When I woke up, I was ready for some Renoir, saw everything else in the museum, and walked down to the Eiffel Tower.

The garden-type thing at Pont Neuf.

Clock at the Musee D'Orsay. I fell asleep right arond here.

Musee D'Orsay from above!

My yummy chocolate lollipop :)

My fearless companions had been somewhat wearied by our Parisian adventures, and decided to take the elevator up to the top of the tower. I was feeling more lively, and walked up. On the way, I met a fantastic Serbian couple who let me huddle under their umbrella with them, and talked to me the whole way up. They were so nice, and their last-minute weekend getaway to Paris made me green with envy. The man, Alexander, asked his girlfriend Lydia, what she was doing on the weekend. She said nothing, and he asked for her passport number. She gave it to him, but he wouldn’t tell her what they were doing. Then he whisks her off to Paris. How romantic is that? It has made me even more determined to live in Europe so that my future husband can do cool romantic things like that too. (Also, the Serbians had some pretty cool accents, and they told me that the Serbian word for “hello” sounds just like “ciao” in Italian.)