Golden opportunities

For our last sightseeing day in Paris, we decided to do everything else I was interested in. (Andie and Aaron are coming back and flying out of Paris, while I go on to Spain. They'll have more chances.)
So, Versailles.

Front gates!

We left around 10 (waaaaay too late), got there, and waited for 30 minutes in the ticket station line that most of the other "smart" tourists went for, as well. The teller explained that the crowds were worse in the morning and we should go to the gardens first, then try the house after 2:00. Sure enough, the free garden entrance around the side had no line.
The grounds are fantastic.

Louis XIV, the Sun King and builder of Versailles

The Apollo fountain, with the Helios/Apollo sun chariot rising out of the water

 

 

The fountains are enormous, the whole thing is a giant, symmetrical maze of incredibly manicured lawns and bushes, and there are LOADS of statues. The first fountain you come to down the stairs is being renovated, the Latona fountain (lizards and frogs one)-- so that was disappointing. Farther on, past the Apollo fountain, is the imitation Grand Canal, after Venice's (at one time, there was a village of gondoliers there, just to punt the courtiers around). Hidden behind the tall lines of trees are tons of hidden little copses and groves, fountains, and structures meant to be outdoor "rooms" off to the sides. There's something unexpected to see any direction you walk. (If you'd like to explore with us, click around here.)

We ate our picnic lunch on the edge of the Grand Canal with all the other tourists while watching the clueless rowboat renters ram into each other. I realized I wasn't wearing sunscreen as we walked back; with the full sun out and getting warmer, this wouldn't be pretty. Worries aside, I led a detour off to the side to see the Neptune and Dragon fountains, which were swarming with alarmingly large carp/sturgeon (our fish identification skills are a little lacking). Here are all of the fountains.

We got back to the front of the Chateau by the time the ticket seller had suggested, but still had to stand in a snakey line for 45 minutes in the sun. I feared for my arms.

And we're in!

We finally made it inside and accidentally started in the unimpressive downstairs apartments. After a wasted 15 minutes of empty rooms, we figured out the main entrance and picked up free audioguides. Aaron declined a sweaty earpiece so I gave him our guidebook, but then my audioguide died 10 minutes in, and I had to remember Rick Steve's descriptions and guess at the rest of the rooms

(Here are virtual tours of several rooms, the official website, and a video. About sums it up.)
Opulence is an understatement at Versailles. Gold leaf is everywhere, original and neoclassic-imitation marbles are everywhere, and every ceiling is painted with stunning masterpieces. Mostly, I stared at the ceilings.

The palace was built/expanded from a hunting lodge by Louis XIV, who grew up in poorly during his regency period and never forgot it-- this palace was meant to be a celebration of all things happy and excessive. It's no wonder his descendents were so out of touch; how do you learn fiscal responsibility in a place that cost half of modern France's GNP to build? Every renovation only made it grander: a two-story chapel, opera house, extra wings, plus rooms and stables to house 5,000+ courtiers. It's pretty hard to scale back at that point.

Ceilings.

More ceilings.

You know what this needs?
Just a tad more gold leaf. You know, right there.

Hall of historical battle paintings

I lost Andie and Aaron again while shuffling around Korean tour groups, but finally ran into them at the end.

We wandered back down to the train station and went to, but a desk person came out and shooed us toward the next train while we were still trying to figure out the ticket kiosks. All the rest of the exiting tourists were hustled after us (and not a single one with a ticket), which was odd, but we didn't question our luck. Everything was fine and we were halfway back to Paris when the train suddenly stopped, a garbled French announcement was made, and all the locals immediately got off... leaving the cars full of foreigners stuck and very confused. We got off ourselves after a few minutes and overheard an Australian family nearby asking a local about the announcement. Turns out there had been an accident with a train in front of us and it had backed up the whole line. The announcement also mentioned that they didn't know when it would be cleared. We jumped on the nearest tram and took a half-hour detour back.

Rick Steves' last restaurant recommendation had been a success, so we trusted him again and got off at the Latin Quarter to go to Cave la Bourgogne. We found it quickly and even got a hugely helpful waiter who took down the written menu off the wall to translate it for us, though even with his help with the daily specials, we accidentally ordered two of the plates we'd already tried on Monday (though prepared differently enough--and I submit, better-- that no one minded). We also splurged on a bottle of Côte du Rhone and desserts: tiramisu and creme brulee. GREAT meal.

We rolled ourselves back out to the metro for one last look at the Eiffel Tower, this time lit up; Andie took us to the marble plaza at the Esplenade du Trocadero for the best view-- if you don't mind the barrage of three different panpipe groups and an army of strolling vendors waving glowing Eiffel Tower paperweights at you. Great pictures.

Ooh la la.

We went back to the hostel and I bathed my sunburns in an icy shower while Andie and Aaron sat in the lobby with the rest of the American kids, swapping travel stories until very late. I joined them with the laptop and tried to blog.

When we did make it back to the room after midnight, I walked in to find a random guy in pajamas asleep on my bed, on top of my sheets and everything. The two other roommates had left that morning and I hadn't expected others so soon, so I'd left a few items at the foot of one of their empty beds; the new kid had apparently been confused about occupancy and chosen to sleep in mine. (I admit some fault in letting my personal effects infringe on the common space. Though why he went for the bed with the clearly USED sheets and pillowcase rather than the naked mattress with a book and a phone charger on it-- that, I can't understand.) I asked the front desk if he'd paid for any sheets that I could make his bunk with and sleep there myself, but he hadn't, and they have a blanket policy (pardon the pun) of not issuing more than one sheet set per guest. They couldn't help me-- if it was a problem, go wake him up. But sleeping there now looked less appealing, and I ended up camping out on his bottom bunk in my sleeping back liner (which was actually more comfortable than my assigned bed).
Will be more careful in the future.