Paris, Chartres and Versailles: I Re-Enter the Developed World

Let me preface this by saying that I started learning French as a little girl, via my aunt's imparting to me some of the knowledge she gained in her French lessons, and ended the summer I turned 13, in an intensive summer language program (10 hours a week, maybe not all that intensive, but still quite a bit). As a child, I was considered quite good. But, this was nearly a quarter of a century ago, and my memory (although impressive) is not perfect.

So, I arrived in Paris in early May, on a very grey day, having been en route for nearly 24 hours (a long wait at the Cape Town airport, a long flight to Dubai, an even longer wait in the Dubai airport, and finally, CDG). As a result, I was too tired and lazy to take the (cheap) Air France shuttle bus into the city and try to figure out where my hotel was. Instead, I opted for an over-priced cab (the shame).

The hotel: small but beautiful. I kind of loved my little room, with its red doors with black trim. It made me very happy, as did the sparkling clean bathroom which I used for daily bubble baths (yes, I feel guilty for not conserving water, but it rained for at least part of every day -- or threatened to, anyway -- so I think it will be okay).

So, Paris was beautiful but a little lonely. My French (as noted above) is not stellar, and my developing world traveling attire made me feel less than confident with that limited French. I think every server in Paris probably hated me, not because I was a non-French speaker, but because I mumbled the French I did speak because I thought they were going to be mad at me (which they were). I also felt slightly bullied into buying aperitifs I may have otherwise skipped, in an anticipatory move to appease their anger. Either that, or I just really wanted kir royales...

Angry French people aside, I managed fairly well (except at the post office, where I had to send something to the US overnight and think there may have been problems, unfortunate given the expense, and even more unfortunate because the package had forms for reimbursement). I made my way through the Metro (not difficult, I know, with the exception of my being very particular about the exit I used at Charles de Gaulle Etoile) and familiarized myself with some of the train stations (although not the random punching holes in your own ticket thing). And I bought stinky cheese from the supermarket and baguettes from the boulangerie near the hotel. I didn't speak with a soul (with the exception of an education professor from Baltimore that I happened to meet on the train platform from Chartres to Paris), but other than that, everything was great.

Chartres: pretty, as expected. I liked, but did not love, the cathedral. I think I just don't know enough about large church-like structures to be a good judge, because the one I liked best (which I visited in Toulouse) is not nearly as well-known, and isn't even the best of its kind in Toulouse. Oh well. Had a very nice lunch (got the menu du jour, had no idea what it was, and ended up with a surprisingly nice warm potato salad with herring on a bed of bitter salad greens). Note to self: translate words you don't know before placing your order.

Versailles: hmmm. I know everyone goes here, and I figure it's important to have checked it off my list. That said, I could have skipped it without any qualms. The gardens are, admittedly, pretty, but by the time I got to the gardens, I was so sick of all the other tourists, and my feet were killing me, so I took a look and decided to get out. Fortunately, I have pictures to remind me of my happy hours there at Versailles. Also, I don't doubt I'll be back some day, because it seems like the kind of thing you do if you're in Paris with time to kill during the day and don't feel like shopping. Wow, I really seem to hate Versailles, don't I? I think I'm just bitter that I didn't have time to visit Marie Antoinette's house and also ever so slightly annoyed with the French for building all of these ridiculously elaborate palaces while there were plenty of people dying of hunger. Of course, I suppose I wasn't the only person who was "slightly annoyed" with the royals for their conspicuous consumption in the face of mounting poverty, so I should probably just shut up and enjoy being a tourist.

Other tourist activities: the Musee D'Orsay, which is good, obviously, but has far too many people. I don't understand why everyone in the world thought that a cold, rainy week in the beginning of May was the perfect time to come to Paris. Don't these people work or go to school or something? I did make an important discovery there, though: I no longer like Monet nearly as much as when I was a kid. I mean, I'm not saying I could do a better job (although maybe. I used to do a lot of water color painting when I was younger). I'm just saying that if someone asked me if I wanted a Monet or ... just about any other impressionist, and I couldn't sell it, I'd probably go with choice B.

This is fortunate, because my last day in Paris, I realized I couldn't actually walk (all the gravel and cobblestones at Versailles had aggravated my sprained ankle, which had already been screwed up at boot camp). And my last day was supposed to consist of a visit to the Louvre (fortunately, I've been before, and have the same comment re wasteful palace spending) and Giverny. Let's just say that if I'd liked Monet as much as I used to, I would have been really sorry to miss Giverny, but as it is, I have to wonder if the flowers would have even been in bloom: Paris was FREEZING.

Anyway, the next day I took off for Toulouse, which will get its own entry, although not right now.