According to the travel guide my mother had bought me, you should go to Versailles right when it opens at 9 am to avoid the hordes of crowds.
Yep. Nope. College kids aren't capable of getting up that early. So I it was more like 10:30 am when I left. However, I rationalized that it's was Valentine's Day--couples have more romantic things to do than go to Versailles. First of all, I liken it to going to the Smithsonian on the date (though that's a-okay with me), and secondly, the opulence will kind of make any piece of jewelry you buy your girlfriend look like a tacky trinket.
When I transferred to the RER C Musée d'Orsay stop, I paused to look up at the train screen. Because the line branches off in two directions, it's actually important to know which train you're getting on.
"Are you going to Versailles?" I heard someone ask.
Still approachable for directions, I suppose. I turned to the speaker. She was with another woman.
"The next train should be going to Versailles. Any train that ends in Rive Gauche or with a VICK next to it should be safe," I replied. I already sound like a pro.
"Are you American?" the second woman asked. I nodded. "Where are you from?" she prompted.
"Connecticut." Hearing them both speak led me to believe that they were also American. Then again, I had thought the same about people who spoke English, but they turned out to be Australian or Canadian. However, these two nodded confidently, telling me that they knew what Connecticut was. They had to be Americans. No one outside of America cares.
When I asked where they were from, they said, "New Jersey." Ah. State of many GW students. I explained this to them. One lived near Princeton and taught kindergarten. The other was her sister. They were in Paris with their brother on a sibling trip, they explained. Their brother wasn't there because he had a foie gras hangover and had already been to Versailles dozens of times.
We easily settled into conversation. As we boarded the train, they turned and faced me head on:
"I'm Susan," the original speaker said.
"And I'm Pat," the other woman said.
I couldn't help but laugh. You see, my Aunt(ie) Susan has a good friend named Patty. I relayed this to the Susan the Patty duo in front of me, but Pat laughed and told me that no one had called her "Patty" since high school. I suppose it's like how my mom feels about any nicknames for "Barbara." ("Did anyone call you 'Barbie'?" I once asked her. "Not if they wanted me to answer," my mother had said back.)
We rode the train, continuing our pleasant conversation. I directed them in how to handle the confusion that is the Paris public transportation system. They told me about their families, especially their children. We moved easily from subject to subject.
As we headed to Versailles, I was torn. I wanted to stay with them--it was like being with my aunts--but I didn't want to bother them. Luckily, they seemed to like having me around, especially as I found simple instructions that would lead us to the Versailles Palace.
And wow. Coming up the street, even though the guide states it's a ten-minute walk, you can immediately see the chateau from the corner. It's so...obscene. That's the word we settled on for the day. Not obscene in the way you would describe that lovely one-finger gesture we have, but just obscene as in "what could even a thousand people do with this huge property?" Obscene also goes beyond size and describes all the flourishes and intricate details that no one ever really needs.
To prove this point, it took forever to upload these photos because they're so detailed.
Anyway, they had purchased Museum Passes and I had my magical Art History student card, so we broke away from the line to an area with no line. Because, you know, they said that those things would let you forego the line.
However, they didn't mention that "the line" they're referring to is in the queue area inside. You still have to wait in the long line outside the building. This was unfortunate to realize, as it was raining not heavily but definitely steadily. Luckily, this line proved very mobile, and we made it to the front very soon. It helped that the people who hadn't pre-purchased tickets would have to leave, making it smaller and smaller.
So as we passed through the security checkpoint, we walked down the hallway. I expected us to now be inside the courtyard. But now we were in another room. And strangely, an inscription on the wall told us that the part of the restoration was funded by America's ultimate entrepreneur, John D. Rockefeller. Hm. The tour guides were booked, so we settled for audio guides. And they were free!
Honestly, free audio guides are the best. I've visited lots of museums, but the ones I've remembered over the years and list at the top of my favorites are the ones where I had access to an audio guide. That's why I know a bunch of random stuff about Norman Rockwell and J. P. Morgan. Now we can add obnoxious facts about the French monarchy to that list...
Versailles is very organized. The first floor takes you through a lot of rooms, but these rooms serve to give you an overview of what you're about to see. Naturally, this bored a lot of people, including me at times, but fortunately, there were also video rooms. Now, the audio guides are synced with the video, so whenever the video starts, the audio starts as well. Strangely, if you walk in the room when the movie is not over yet, the audio will also turn on, picking up at a seemingly random spot.
As we figured out how the audio guides worked, the three of us would bide our time in the previous, adjacent room, looking at the paintings of various kings and important nobles as well as the small-scale models of Versailles. Then, when the giant group in the next room began to disperse, we were able to snag front row seats each time, and now we had clear views and audio with context. :)
The videos were broken up into three parts: Kings Louis XIV, Louis XV, and Louis XVI (that's the one who was guillotined); Louis XVI's gradual loss of power as the French Revolution took hold; and, finally, what happened to Versailles after the fall of the monarchy--turns out, it just went back into the hands of monarchs, as Napoleon moved in and finally the last French kings.
It was just enough information to make you go, "Wow," but it wasn't so over-the-top that it made my head hurt. After the videos, we walked into a picture slideshow in the next room, showing you what Versailles has been up to in the past few decades. After Versailles was "given" back to the people as a museum, people realized that they could still use this space for conferences and really important gatherings. So we saw pictures of Reagan at the G7 World summit, John Rockefeller and his impressive contributions to the restoration, and, as we got closer to the 21st century, the ways the palace had been restored to its former glory.
You see, even though Versailles wasn't razed (which is great for the tourists but even better for French citizens who reap the rewards of our foolish spending), all the furniture had been sold at auction. So the major quest of the curators appears to be tracing and obtaining the original furniture--usually pieces from when King Louis XVI and Marie-Antoinette lived there. The gardens were only restored to their former glory in about 2004, which seems incredibly late to me.
Now, bask in the ostentatious decorations and sheer size:
The three pictures above feature the private chapel housed inside Versailles. Yes, this place has a chapel, and that chapel is two stories tall. That's a giant, gold-coated (though we were wondering if it was and is real gold?) organ on the end.
I just didn't know what to make of this sculpture. It was in the last room before the real tour started.
Second story of the chapel.
The fireplace above and the following pictures are from the Hercules Drawing Room. This room is literally described as the room specifically made to make guests incredibly impressed and jealous of the king's obscene wealth. And he definitely accomplished that, from the giant paintings opposite of one another to the beautiful swirled marble. Since my father is from Barre, VT--to everyone outside of Vermont, Barre is known as a big quarry town--I know that the more, well, marbled the stone is, the more valuable it is. It's simply stunning.
Below, we have pictures of the Salon of Abundance. This is much smaller and seemingly less grand, but I mean, "less grand" at Versailles is still 1000x grander than anything we could design even if we all pooled our money. King Louis [insert Roman numeral here] would have entertained guests here.
Following the Salon, you enter the themed rooms. Each one is named after a Roman god. This upcoming one is Venus. It really is spectacular. And you know, Venus being goddess of love, apparently this is where couples would come to canoodle--but who needs this much space to do that? (Wait, don't answer that question. I don't want to talk about orgies on this blog.)
Diana--Artemis is her Greek equivalent--is the subject of the next room. In the ceiling room (which typically features the god the room is named after), she's leading a hunting party. So the kings were a fan of her, as she was the goddess of hunting and--as twin brother of sun god, Apollo--night and the moon. And I apologize for the scaffolding; this room is in the middle of a remodel, clearly.
Mars is next. The walls are red, naturally. God of war, so bodyguards stayed here, apparently. But mars in French is also the word for the month March--the most fabulous month of the year because it's when I was born! :D It represents renewal, as spring begins in March--or it's supposed to.
The Mercury Room is the epitome of voyeurism. This served as the king's "bedroom," but I guess that's as true as thinking that the Obamas live in the same areas that tourists visit in the White House. If you were incredibly lucky, you'd get to hold the candle as the king slipped into his jammies. Oh, wow, what a privilege.
I also heard that this voyeurism may have extended to the bathroom as well. Ugh.
Did you know that Mercury's Greek god equivalent is Hermes? Yeah, I didn't. It only occurred to me just now...
The box doesn't contain a mysterious object: it's just a clock. I don't know why it's boxed up.
Anyway, now we enter the Apollo Room below. Unfortunately, this room is going through a serious remodeling, so the spectacle is rather diminished. But let's look still! This was probably King Louis XV's favorite room, as he seemed to liken himself to Apollo with his nickname "The Sun King."
So yeah, Apollo is in the middle of the ceiling, but this is all allegorical. So, Apollo is riding in his chariot, which is the signal that the day is about to begin. However, we're supposed to take this picture as King Louis XV at his coronation. The other figures are admirers--and America is included as the Indian woman wrapped in green. Oh, well, at least we know the French as just as good at stereotyping as Americans.
By the way, why is Apollo the only god that has the same name in both Greek and Roman mythology?
The next room is the War Room, which is really not exciting given that the Hall of Mirrors is right around the corner. This room isn't as big as the others, and it's basically just a room in which you place all the paintings and sculptures and carvings that you made after each victory in battle. So it's even more egotistical than all the others because that's its only purpose.
I know, the anticipation is killing you, right?
Well, here you go. I'll let the pictures speak for themselves.
FUN FACT: The Treaty of Versailles, the treaty that ended World War I, was signed in the Hall of Mirrors.
Now, Mr. DeMille, I'm ready for my closeup:
And, because I'm obnoxious...
There were a few more rooms, namely the king's bedchamber as well as the queen's. And yes, they had separate bedrooms, giving a new meaning to "his and hers" design schemes.
So he actually slept in the bed above. But it strangely doesn't look that comfortable. Also, this room was redecorated quarterly, as they had to change the decor to match the seasons. Jeez.
The above three were taken in the Council Room. When France started to embrace the constitutional monarchy with more enthusiasm, important government officials would meet here.
That's my weird picture of the day. I don't know why it was outside, but it was.
Now we have the Peace Room. Because I guess the War Room needed some balance. After all, a lot of the future monarchs' contributions to the opulence of Versailles was simply building structures to make it more symmetrical. I mean, there's not much you can do with a place that has everything. Well, except a movie theater. Or a bowling alley. Or a swimming pool. Actually, by my six-year-old self's standards, this place wouldn't by worth any of my time without those three things.
Below, Marie-Antoinette's room is featured. It should actually be called the Hay Fever room, as it is so incredibly floral that I felt like my allergies were acting up.
Why a portrait of a strange man in her room? That's her brother, Franz Joseph, ruler of the "Holy Roman Empire" (aka Austria). Yes, Marie-Antoinette was a foreigner. BUT she never said "let them eat cake"; that is a misconception.
The rather unextraordinary mint green room (that word is used after seeing the grandiose setting all around it)--Salon of the Nobles--would've been a room for other monarchs. Specifically, when Louis XVI and Marie-Antoinette lived here, this would have been the room their daughter, Marie-Therese. You can do some reading on Marie-Therese here. As the only child of the headless king and queen to survive into adulthood, you'd think she would be happy, but her life proved to become even more difficult.
The pictures below are of the dining room. Yes, the ottomans are for people to watch them eat. But, you know, their children and grandchildren could eat at the table. Wasn't that nice of them. Though this room served another important purpose: technically labeled the Queen's Antechamber, this room led into another room called the Guard Room, and that's where Marie-Antoinette hid there from the people who stormed the palace.
The two photos below are the Guard Room, good for hiding from angry peasants.
Now we have the Coronation Room ahead. Yep. As soon as getting rid of the despot, they replaced him with an "emperor." Admittedly, it was probably not the people's decision, but still.
In the photo directly below, Napoleon actually had his wife removed from the picture after he left her. What a guy, man. He was so smitten, though. He really had to let go. And I'm sure she was far from sad--I'd be happy to be rid of a guy who wrote me stuff like this. (Warning: PG-13 content.)
I'm ending this post of the actual inside of Versailles here. To see the Gardens, go to the next post. I'm telling you, even without the water coming out of the fountains, statues covered up, and lack of blooming trees and flowers, it was fantastic. Definitely the ideal place to play hide-and-go-seek or--even better--Freeze Tag.
1 comment:
I was really hoping for a picture of you with your "aunties for a day". So glad you met some nice peeps!
It looks so amazing in the pictures. So beautiful!!!
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