Divamensch

TUESDAY NOV 13

 

WIW: lavender shirt, jeans.

WRW: blue/red/navy/green striped shirt, argyle cardigan, grey trousers.

 

We had an early breakfast downstairs, packed, checked out of the hotel, took a taxi across the bridge, and did a pre-check-in at the Hotel Lumen.  Left our bags.  We went to the Musée d’Orsay and bought two four-day museum passes - - this gets you into most of the museums in Paris, many of the attractions, and many museums and attractions in the area.  Thank you to Dale for telling us about it, we loved it, it made things much cheaper and easier.  The funny thing is we didn’t go to the d’Orsay, we just bought the passes there - - he hopped over to the RER train to go to Versailles.

 

We bought our train tickets from an adorkable young woman in a booth.  Richard put his ticket in the machine, the gates opened, he walked through.  No big whoop.  I put my ticket in the wrong slot, couldn’t get it back out, and was screwed.  I went back to the young woman and explained my problem, she said she’d come out and help me.  I think she was eager to leave the booth, also it afforded her an opportunity to put on her little station master hat.  She opened the machine, pulled out my ticket, handed it to me, closed the machine, and showed me the correct slot.  Bless her heart.

 

A quick train ride.  There was an older gentleman on the train playing the accordion - - he played “Cielito lindo” and “When the saints go marching in”.  He was very good so we gave him some change.

 

We got out at Versailles (not difficult, it’s the last stop) and walked to the palace.  It is OUT of CONTROL.  Impossibly huge and opulent, it makes the grandest Vanderbilt mansions seem well-considered and refined.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Tyrannical symmetry.  Unreal gilding, marble work, fabrics.  Of course I’ve seen photos of Versailles and even a movie filmed there (Sofia Copolla’s *Marie-Antoinette*), but being there is so much more startling and unsettling.  The hall of mirrors was the highlight of the palace, unbelievable brilliance.

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It cracks me up how in the second picture the chandelier behind me looks like a coronet perched on my head.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

​I had two feelings on the subject of Marie-Antoinette and Louis XVI and their whole crowd.  On the one hand they were out of control and out of touch and deserved being killed.  On the other hand they were just doing what they’d been raised to do, they didn’t really know any better, and everything in their world supported their world being kept as it was.  It’s really a very sad story.

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Two interior photos:

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We walked through the incomparable gardens to the Grande Triannon, a sort of summer getaway palace.  Lovely, stunning, not nearly as lavish as Versailles but still damn impressive. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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And then we walked to the Queen’s Hamlet, a make-believe village and farm where Marie-Antoinette played at being a peasant woman.  It was a creepy juxtaposition after being at Versailles - - it was like a theme park version of a little country village, everything was just a little too quaint.  And they had actual pigs, cows, horses, donkeys, etc.  It was bizarre.

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At this point, upon exiting the hamlet, we could have either taken a right, walked twenty yards, and been on the diagonal path back to the palace - - or we could have taken a left and walked seven miles completely in the wrong direction down a muddy road patrolled by rabid dogs.  Three guesses which one Richard was sure was the right way. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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OK, I exaggerate about the seven miles, but it was a muddy road.  And there were two dogs, and they were most likely not rabid.

 

We got to the end of the path and found a kindly farmer (they were his dogs).  I told him we were trying to get back to the RER train.  “The RER!  You are so lost!  It’s so far away, you can’t possibly walk there.”  Well what other choice do we have, buddy.  You think we can hail a cab?  Or you think there’s a bus to the palace, with a stop on the muddy road seven miles away from the Queen’s Hamlet?  He gave us directions and we walked lamely back to the train station.  Oh it felt so good to sit down on that train.  BTW I did some rough figuring when I got back, courtesy of Google Maps - - we walked about three miles that day, plus an extra two miles down the muddy road.  My feet ache just thinking about it.

 

We got back to Paris and checked into our hotel for real.  Richard booked us into the Quai Voltaire for our first four nights in town, because it was cheaper and because he used to live there, it was for what you call sentimental reasons.  The Hotel Lumen is in a fancier neighborhood (behind the Louvre, rather than across the river) and is a young hip sexy hotel.  He thought it would be fun to do both, and it was. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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The funny thing is our room was just as small!  Much more elegant (eight or nine shades of grey), more lavish breakfast, and a TV in the room - - but you wonder, is it worth three times the price?  We got a good rate through a client of Richard’s, that was a good break.  I guess the Hotel Lumen hopes that their clientele will be blinded by all that high design, and happy to spend so much money to stay in a teeny room.  Plus would those people want to be at the Quai Voltaire, or have even heard of it?

 

WIW 2: grey suit, lavender shirt, Schiaparelli tie.

WRW 2: grey suit, diagonal check shirt, polka dot bow tie.

 

Jere and Dale told us about a restaurant they went to on their recent visit to Paris, the Ambassade d’Auvergne.  Auvergne is a province in center of France, sort of rustic.  The restaurant is the cutest little place, and the cutest little maître d’, who also took our orders and did some of the service.  He was about five foot four, in his forties or fifties, short hair, glasses that magnified his eyes (made them look very large), nice suit and tie.  Very gracious.  Before I tell you what we had I should say that we were limited by what we could understand on the menu.

 

First course: I thought about getting the lentil salad, but was tempted by the terrine because it came with a compote of dried fruits.  Turns out a terrine is a sort of coarse paté, and I don’t usually like paté, and definitely like it LESS when it’s coarse.  But I ate it just to be polite.  The dried fruits were divine.  Richard had a different version of the same.  Richard had a Glenfiddich and water with the first course, it was served by the waiter, an adorable young man, probably just over twenty years old.  Fair skin, jet black hair, was wearing a white shirt, black pants, black necktie.  He brought the bottle to the table, which is something I hadn’t seen before - - Richard said that way you know what you’re getting.

 

RICHARD: Mm, try this.

ME: No thank you, you know I hate scotch.

RICHARD: This is very smooth.  Come on, just have a sip.

ME: [takes a sip] It is very smooth, but I still hate it.

RICHARD: [laughs]

ME: If you ever come home and I’m drinking scotch…

RICHARD: …I’ll just turn right around and leave.

 

Second course: I got the sausage, Richard got the duck.  The most remarkable thing about the main course was the side dish.  It’s called aligot and we saw the maître d’ making it for someone else.  It’s made out of mashed potatoes, white cheese, butter, and cream.  He made it in a copper saucepan with a wooden paddle.  He brought the saucepan over to the table before dishing it up, and he stirred it and brought up the paddle over his head with a great flourish, showing how elastic and splendid it was.  It was indeed elastic and splendid!  And he didn’t just put it in a pile on the plate, like an ordinary pile of mashed potatoes - - he used the wooden paddle to make a leaf design.  The whole production was very impressive.  Plus it was delicious.

 

Third course: The waiter asked if we wanted a cheese course.  Richard asked if it would be possible to have a salad course instead.  He said he would need to ask the maître d’.  He came back a few minutes later with a bowl of salad, gorgeous mixed greens with a substantial vinaigrette.  Just the thing.

 

Dessert: Richard got the chocolate mousse.  I asked the waiter to explain what the crèmes d’Auvergne were, and though I didn’t understand his answer, it sounded like it was worth the risk.  Turns out it was three little pots of custard, each with a different flavoring typical of the Auvergne.  I have no idea what they were, but they were unusual and tasty.  I loved it.  Oh, and the waiter did the cutest thing with the chocolate mousse - - he brought Richard a plate and also the mousse in a large ceramic mixing bowl.  He served a hearty dollop onto Richard’s plate, and said (in French) that he was going to leave the bowl with him, in case he decided he wanted more!  And he giggled a lot and walked away.  I’m telling you, these two are the cutest act in town.

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