Paris Versailles

Tuesday. August 30. I land in Paris! I’m such an inexperienced traveler that I was a little surprised that I had to go through “Passport Control.” That’s right. I’m in a foreign country. They don’t know who I am. They have to check me out. There was a long line. Stern guards in plastic booths carefully examined each passport. What is embedded on that chip on my passport? I studied the border patrol officer’s face. He eyeballed me and stamped the passport. I was on my way. 

I toyed with the idea of taking the train into the city, but it didn’t take me long to figure out how stupid that would be. Start out the trip right! It was about a forty-five minute cab ride into Paris. A new law made it a flat rate.   

The landscape looked like typical airport territory at first. Highway. Billboards. Motels. Then there were some more rural and wooded areas. French forest preserves. I had come from the golden hills of California. There had been some rain, but most of the state was dry and burnt. I wasn’t used to seeing green. It reminded me of the ride into Chicago from O’Hare. Maybe it was because it was almost ninety degrees out. 

The cab driver was friendly and spoke good English. He was glad to point out some spots on the way. We passed the football stadium where the UEFA Cup finals had just been held.  As we approached the city I caught my first glimpse of the Eiffel Tower. Nothing tells you you’re really in Paris like seeing the Eiffel Tower.  

We entered the city. There was still an air of unreality about it to me. The old buildings. The cobblestone streets. We heard a siren behind us. It was the pulsating wail I was familiar with from French films. Someone in a limo was getting a police escort. I felt like I was in a movie. People would notice the siren and take a quick look, but most just kept on walking.  

We passed some official looking government buildings. On every corner there were groups of reporters with microphones and TV cameras. The driver explained that, “The Minister of Finance resigned today!” 

My hotel was in an area called Cambronne. It was about a mile from the Eiffel Tower, on the Rue de la Croix Nivert. The room on the third floor was small, but it would fit my purposes. There was a small porch, and I could see the shining dome of The Invalides through the gap in the streets. 

Rick Steves says it’s best to go for a walk after a long flight. It’s tempting to take a nap, but it’s better to stretch the legs and get some fresh air. After a ten hour flight I was ready for that. My plan was to find the meeting point for my first scheduled tour at Versailles. It would be leaving the next day from the Invalides Metro stop at 13:15. They like military time here.   

I’m used to cities built on a grid, like Chicago. If you have an address there you can usually find it on the grid. I was beginning to realize this was an older city. The streets are shorter. Sometimes they were only a couple of blocks long. 

The streets were paved with cobblestones. I went down the Rue de la Croix Nivert towards a Metro stop. Three streets converged. There were several cafes and restaurants. A few commuters made their way to and from the station. Rue de la Croix Nivert became Avenue de Lowendal. I could see on the map that this led to The Invalides. I was strolling on the boulevards of Paris! 

I passed the Ecole Militaire, a school Napoleon attended. There were jeeps and trucks parked in an empty lot. I got a better look at the Eiffel Tower. It was tempting to walk over there, but I knew I would be going up to the top of it on one of the tours.

It was easy to find The Invalides. Napoleon had built it as a hospital for his veteran troops. His motivation wasn’t entirely humanitarian. Most veteran troops were idle and unemployed. They became a problem. The Invalides got many of them off the streets. 

The Invalides has a military museum and the tomb of Napoleon. The weather was just too good to go into a museum. I continued wandering. The Invalides was surrounded by stone walls and a moat. Security was heavy here. There were soldiers and jeeps at all entrances. It was my first look at military security around a Paris landmark.  

Somehow I didn’t see The Invalides Metro stop. I took the first of many wrong turns. I must have read the map wrong. I found myself at the Sevres Babylone Metro stop. I was lost for the first time, but I didn’t care. 

They’re not neighborhoods here. They’re arrondissements. St. Germain-des-Pres is a busy shopping district with a downtown feel. People were in business attire. The pace was faster. There were large retail stores. I wasn’t in Kansas anymore. Everything seemed so ... French!

I came to an intersection and realized I had gone in a circle. There was a large church. I popped into my first Church in Europe: St. Francis Xavier.  

The church was larger than most American churches. I realized my idea of “old” was going to change. The paintings inside were huge. In the right corner there was a shrine that held the remains of Saint Madeline - Sophie Barat. I would go into these local churches as often as I could on this trip. Some held art treasures. This church was impressive, but it was just a hint of the churches I would see.

It had been a long day, and I was running out of gas a bit. I looked at the map and realized I hadn’t covered that much territory. I hadn’t found the meeting point for the tour tomorrow. The tour would be in the afternoon, so I had time to figure that out. It was time for some French food! I retraced my way back to the Avenue de Lowendal. I would stay close to the hotel tonight and check out the area around the hotel. 

Near Cambronne I walked by Garibaldi Park. It’s a little square with a children’s playground. There were little parks like this all over Paris. A few people relaxed on the benches. There was a statue of a mounted Garibaldi. I didn’t think of it until later, but why was there a park in Paris named after an Italian hero? Some graffiti on a nearby trash can was a bit jarring: “Islam hors de France.” Islam out of France. Did most people agree with this after the attacks?

People were finishing their commute and leaving the Cambronne Metro stop. I took a look at the menu posted outside “Cafe de la Place 2.” A friendly waiter greeted me and guided me to a table. It wasn’t a hard sell. My first French cafe. Most of the tables faced out towards the street. It was a great view of the passing parade. The menu was a bit puzzling. I picked out a “Pappardelle” dish. It was fresh pasta and really great. 

I watched my waiter working the crowd and the street. He made apparent regulars feel at home. He greeted many people on the street. People passing by knew him. This guy was good. I wondered how much money he generated for this place.  

Paris is a more diverse city than I had expected. It surprised me that there were so many African and Asian people passing by the cafe. I got my first real look at French women. Many were returning from work. They were well dressed. Every woman seemed to have her own fashion sense. 

It was Tuesday night, but there was still a little nightlife on the Rue de la Nivert. A few people stood outside of a nightclub that was blasting Blues. I wasn’t ambitious enough for that tonight. Closer to the hotel was the Cafe Moderne. It was on the corner of Rue de la Nivert and another street that didn’t look like much more than an alley to me. The cafe stretched down the street. People sat at tables along the side of the cafe. There were some young people inside, but it wasn’t crowded. It was still early. When I passed it later on other nights every table would be occupied. In the back there was a large figure of an Asian woman. A lighting effect made it look like she was constantly winking. It gave the place more of a nightclub atmosphere. 

Closer to the hotel there was a comic book store. This was a little bit of home. There were figures of familiar Marvel and DC characters in the window. 

Wednesday. August 31. Today would be the first guided tour. This time I found the Metro stop behind the Invalides. I wondered how I had missed it yesterday. It was early and I wandered to the river for my first look at the Seine.

I crossed a grand bridge, the Pont Alexandre III. The bridge itself is a work of art. Across the river were two impressive buildings, the Grand Palais and the Petit-Palais. This was real Paris stuff! It was tempting to take a closer look, especially at the steel and glass of the Grand Palais, but I pressed on. I wanted to walk through the Tuileries Gardens. 

As part of my tour package I would get a Paris City Pass. It included tickets to museums and a boat tour of the Seine. I was supposed to pick them up at The Convention Bureau that was on the Rue de la Pyramides. I located it on the map. It was near the Louvre. I’d see some sights and pick up the City Pass before the Versailles tour. 

I walked along the Seine. It was already hot. A young woman approached me. She didn’t look homeless, but she didn’t have that Parisian fashion sense either. “Would you sign a petition?” I noticed about four other females with clipboards sitting on a bench in the shade. I had been warned about the gypsies. Before she even got close to me, I gave her a heated, “No!” Her friends seemed surprised and a bit amused by my response. I guess they figured I wasn’t worth the bother of leaving the shade.

I do have my uniform that I wear when I’m wandering the streets. A black vest type jacket with large pockets. Black pants. Gym shoes and a baseball hat with the USF (University of San Francisco) logo on it. It may have screamed American tourist, but I think it did keep some pests away. It usually works in San Francisco.  

The Place de la Concorde is not only an impressive space, but it’s the site of some of the most exciting, dramatic history ever. This is where thousands cheered as the guillotine fell. It had been the Place de la Revolution. It takes a little imagination to picture mobs howling for royal blood here. The large square is dominated by the large obelisk brought from Egypt by Napoleon. There’s a large carousel and souvenir tents at the entrance to the Tuileries Gardens. 

The Tuileries had been built as gardens for French royalty. The gardens were looking a bit dry in the heat, but they were still beautiful. The Tuileries is the very definition of a garden. It has to be the world capital of landscaping. There are many sculptures among the flower beds and lawns. It’s an outdoor art museum. People were already settling into chairs at large reflecting pools. 

The Arc de Triomphe du Carrousel is topped by reproductions of the four bronze horses Napoleon brought back from Venice. The originals were returned after Napoleon’s demise.

It was early, but there were still family groups of tourists. Some kids wore those Mickey Mouse Merlin sorcerer hats. It wasn’t hard to tell where they had just visited. Europe is Disneyland for history and art buffs. Some college age kids were cautiously throwing a frisbee around. 

There were guys selling bottled water, selfie sticks, wooden baskets, little aluminum Eiffel Towers and other trinkets. When you get closer to the Louvre there’s more of them. They almost form a ring. Later I heard that most of them are Senegalese refugees. Near the Louvre they really get into a hard sell. It’s almost like running a gauntlet. I went by the glass pyramid entrance to The Louvre. It was exciting to think that I would be going in there soon. 

A building covered the Rue de la Pyramides, but a passage allowed traffic through. It was almost a tunnel. On the other side the buildings were old. It seemed to be more of a business district. I tried to find the convention bureau. I knew I was very close, but I couldn’t figure out the map or the address. I decided to head back to the meeting point for the Versailles tour. I knew where that was. I’d figure out where the Convention Bureau was later.  

There was a coffee stand inside the Invalides Metro stop. It was still early, but well dressed commuters were drinking beer at the bar. I took a look at a menu. I got the attention of a young waitress behind the bar to order something. She freaked out a little bit, “I don’t speak English!” That’s OK. I had learned how to deal with the language barrier in the Russian deli in my San Francisco neighborhood. I just point at things behind the counter and buy them. I pointed at the menu. “La Croque Monsieur.” I knew what that was. A toasted ham and cheese sandwich. It could be a long afternoon at Versailles. I was directed to a table. My waiter seemed a bit miffed. I had violated some kind of ordering protocol. Maybe I was in too much of a hurry.  

The Metro stop was in a park. It was easy to spot the City Tours people. They wore blue shirts and carried clipboards. There were eight of us in the group. A young woman was our contact. She would take us to Versailles to meet our guide. We took a twenty minute ride on the Metro to the Versailles stop, and then took a short walk through the town. The streets were lined with souvenir shops. We turned the corner on a boulevard and there it was. Versailles! It was the biggest palace I’ve ever seen.

We went to a prominent statue of Louis XIV and waited there for our tour guide, Herve. We could call him Harvey if we had trouble pronouncing his name in French. There were eight in our group. Herve had us introduce ourselves and say where we came from. When it was my turn I told everyone I was from San Francisco. It was the first time I got the San Francisco reaction from my fellow tourists. It was either, “We love San Francisco!” or “We’ve got to get to San Francisco.” On every tour I became “The guy from San Francisco.”   

As we walked towards the palace Herve talked about the history of Versailles. The area had been a hunting grounds for the royalty and nobles of Paris. Louis XIII built a large hunting lodge here, but it was Louis XIV who had the grand vision to build the largest palace in the world here. 

We stood at the entrance to the buildings. There was a large courtyard. Being in the city of Paris had been amazing, but the grandeur of Versailles is even harder to describe. This would be the first of many moments like this on the trip. The building had two large wings. The building in the center had a large balcony.     

Our guide was very enthusiastic and really brought the history to life. In 1789 events were really spinning out of control for the French royalty. Louis XVI had left Paris twenty years before and made Versailles his home. This alienated him from the people of Paris who thought he was under the control of Marie Antoinette. A mob walked out from Paris. “Imagine,” Herve said, “They walked the distance you just covered on that Metro ride.” I had to wonder what the “walk” to Versailles had been like. It wasn’t just a stroll. It would have been an angry mob. It was a Revolution! 

The people stopped right where we were standing and demanded to see the King! They hated Marie Antoinette. The royal couple came out on the balcony and addressed the crowd. The mob would not be pacified. The royal couple was forced to return to Paris. 

We went into the wing of the palace on our right. This was the first of many “airport security” stops for me before entering major landmark sites. There were a few military vehicles outside. Stern soldiers stood there with automatic weapons.

It was the “Skip the Line: VIP Secret Rooms of Versailles Tour.” Herve checked in with security guards and we walked around some velvet ropes and stanchions. We would have access to rooms the public couldn’t enter.   

There was a large staircase. It looked more modern than the rest of the building. Herve explained that the original staircase, the Ambassador’s staircase, had been more grand. People traveled from all over the known world to see the staircase, but eventually it had become worn down. It was a burden to maintain. The staircase was replaced during renovations. There is a model of the original staircase.    

We entered the area with the King and Queen’s private rooms. Every room defied description. It was the epitome of opulence. The walls were gilded and held large mirrors. The furniture alone must have cost a fortune. The first salons were a place for courtiers and other political hopefuls to gather. Refreshments would be provided while they waited.   

There was another salon. Marie Antoinette loved to gamble, but it was forbidden at Versailles. The King allowed gambling on one occasion, a party for her birthday. He awoke the next morning and heard that the party was still going on in the salon. The Queen and a small group were still up gambling. The King protested. It was only supposed to be for one night! Marie said the night wasn’t over until they stopped. It was a logic I appreciated. 

A harp in the next room was a giveaway. This was the music room. Louis XIV’s daughters played music here daily. A young Mozart played here for the royal family. It was amazing to stand in the same room that the young prodigy had entertained royalty in.  

Louis XV had six daughters. Two of them never married and lived in the Mesdames’ Apartments until the Revolution. Herve said that they were very strict and bitter old maids. They ran a reign of terror of their own in the court. 

The King “went to bed” in public. When he retired for the day it was a daily public ritual with much ceremony. It was a great honor to be present. Courtiers jockeyed for position. It was an opportunity to gain favor with the King and to ask for favors. When the last courtier left, the King went to the “real” bedroom where he slept. 

Herve told us about Louis XVI’s ineptness in the bedroom. Producing an heir was a royal obligation. Louis XVI had led a sheltered, pious life. Marie Antoinette’s brother was visiting from Austria. He had to clue Louis in. These intimate details were preserved in a letter he wrote. The luxury of Versailles is stunning, but the royalty that lived here were still human. 

  We went into an area that looked more modern. There was another tour group inside The Opera House, so we would have to wait a bit. Herve told us about his first visit to Versailles. He was five years old and he fell in love with the palace. He was always drawn to the palace at Versailles. “Where is the King?” he innocently asked his mother. “We killed him,” was her unemotional reply.

In some of his commentary Herve defended the monarchy a bit. He said the kings were loved by the people, especially Louis XIV. The kings did great things for their people. This sounded too much like trickle down economics for me. Most people lived in miserable poverty. Maybe it’s a bit American and naive, but I don’t get monarchy. Eventually there was a Revolution. I wondered how many French shared Herve’s opinions today.   

What says being King more than having your own Opera House? We sat in seats in a loge area while Herve told us the history of this remarkable room. The Opera House was completed in time to be used for the marriage of a young Louis XVI to Marie Antoinette. 

It’s not as big as the public opera houses, but it is more richly decorated. On our left three men were cleaning one of the chandeliers that had been lowered from the ceiling. That was a unique sight. 

Versailles was built to impress the people and especially foreign dignitaries. Even the most jaded leaders of other countries had to be affected by The Opera House. It’s still used for opera and other events today. 

Herve told us that through the years many pieces of art had been taken from Versailles to the Louvre. Versailles and the Louvre battled for priceless pieces of art. Usually the Louvre won. It had more political clout. Some pieces have been returned to Versailles. Herve pointed out that the Louvre displays one tenth of the art they own. 

We stepped through a door and we were in the areas with public access. It was crowded, especially compared to the “Private Rooms.” People went from room to room, looking for the ultimate photo op. Herve talked to guards and other staff. Later he told us that the staff told him that attendance was down by at least a third. He told us several times that this was an opportune time to visit Versailles. I had to wonder what a “normal” day would be like here.

We walked through some more incredible rooms. The Salon d’ Apollon. In the Salon de Guerre there was a large stucco relief of Louis XIV. We entered the Hall of Mirrors. Herve explained that mirrors were a sign of luxury. The walls here were covered with them. It was meant to dazzle people.   

It’s been a day of amazing sights, and there’s still more to see. “A great palace has to have great gardens.” We go outside and walk to The Gardens. We stop at a terrace with a fantastic view. A long pool is laid out before us in the shape of a cross. Herve tells us that events are still held on the huge manmade lagoon. 

Versailles was quite an experience. We had been transported back into another era of history. Thanks to Herve for making history come alive!  

We got back on the train for the return trip. I got off at the Eiffel Metro Stop. I figured I can make my way back to Cambronne from there. The area around the Eiffel Tower was crowded with tourists and souvenir stands. Many of them were families with whiny kids who were melting down after a long day. 

It was a nice walk through the Champ De Mars. It’s the park that leads to the tower. Then I walked along the Avenue de Suffren. On that street I made my first stop at an ATM. It was a bit of a relief that it worked and I had some more cash.  

Across from the Ecole Militaire I stopped for a “Happy Hour” Chablis. I could get used to this cafe life. I’d take my time and head back to the hotel. Across the street there was a street sign I was glad to see. It pointed to Cambronne.