The day after the French Exploratorium thingy and the Place de la Concorde my mom got sick and decided to stay home. We ended up going to the Louis Vuitton center (yes, that Louis Vuitton) which is a modern art gallery. Unfortunately they only just opened and only one of their exhibitions was set up and ready to go, so we ended up having to pay full fare to see a very limited number of pieces. Very unfortunate, but we definitely did enjoy ourselves. The building alone is actually quite spectacular. It's designed by the architect Frank Gehry, and it's extremely elegant with giant curved panes of glass wrapping around it. When we first arrived we actually didn't go to the exhibition but to the roof, where there was layer after layer of patios and plants with gorgeous views of the city. It was partially indoor and partially outdoor, with the panes of glass not connecting at places and leaving an open roof above. After snapping some pictures and walking around up there, we headed downstairs and went to the exhibit. It was interesting, albeit small. Definitely the most remarkable piece there was one of the four versions of the The Scream by Edvard Munch. I was rather disappointed that there wasn't more to see, but what was there was a lot of fun. Anyway, after that we headed out to the park behind the Louis Vuitton. It's the largest park in the city and usually you have to pay an entry fee to go there, although we got in with our Louis Vuitton tickets. There were lots of play structures and exercise machine thingies, and even a small roller coaster, a train (like at the zoo), and a boat ride. It was really crazy! We hung out there for a while and ended up having a lot of fun.
Isn't it beautiful?
Patio roof of the Louis Vuitton
Fountain outside of the Louis Vuitton
That night we also went to a soul concert at a church. There was a guitarist/lead singer, three backup singers, a guy on a kora, a bassist, and a percussionist. I really enjoyed it. It's interesting because the guitarist was definitely American but it wasn't clear where the rest of the group was from. Perhaps Paris? I don't know. Anyway, we all had a lot of fun and thankfully my mom was well enough to come out with us by then.
The church where we saw the music
The next day we headed out as a family to the Musée Picasso, or Picasso Museum. The Musée Picasso is one of the largest collections of Picasso pieces in the world. I suppose it makes sense, because while Picasso was Spanish he spent much of his life in France, as did most major artists of his time. We all, of course, greatly enjoyed the museum (perhaps the only exception being Nicholas, who despises any art that is not realistic, including Impressionist, Cubist, and above all abstract art). Personally my favorite Picasso works there were his three dimensional Cubist pieces, as well as his collages. I enjoy the latter for obvious reasons, being someone who creates collages herself, but I like the former because it actually helps me have a better appreciation for his two dimensional Cubist paintings. Let me explain. The whole point of Cubism is that it breaks up the figure of the subject and then shows it at different angles, or distorts it in a very geometric way. With his three dimensional Cubist pieces, Picasso often applied the same idea and made something that was broken up geometrically but still gave the general idea of the subject. At the Musée Picasso, where we were, they had multiple Cubist sculptures of his, including a few of guitars. It's fascinating because if you compare it to some of his other Cubist paintings with guitars in them they are in fact very similar. I thought it was very cool.
Picasso guitar sculptures
A Picasso sculpture of a goat
What were my other favorites? I definitely enjoyed the stuff he did during World War II and the Spanish Civil War. It was all very dark, but it felt more meaningful for that reason. Many lacked color and showed large, violent scenes or landscapes. Of course one of his most famous pieces from that period is Guernica, which was done in 1937 and depicted the bombing of the Spanish town of Guernica during the Spanish Civil War. I'm crossing my fingers that we'll be able to see it when we visit Madrid in July. Anyway, there were some similar paintings in the museum and they were very powerful.
Guernica
That evening we got to see even more music. It was actually in a Starbucks (random, I know) and it was a duet who did some jazz standards, rock, pop, and some of their own compositions, but all in an Americana style. They definitely made each tune their own. Both of them sang (although the woman was definitely the lead singer, and the man the backup) and the man played a ukulele. It was cool because there were only two of them and so to create the backup necessary for each of them to have free reign to improvise they would create a rhythm or a chord, then record it, having their speaker system repeat it as they played whatever they wanted. They could then build a complex backup to support their solos as they played the piece, without missing a beat. I think the guy on the ukulele especially enjoyed doing that, and both of them looked like they were having a lot of fun, playing around with the harmonies and backups that they could create. They were also very good at improvising, both the vocalist and the ukuleleist. (Ukuleleist? Is that even a word? Whatever, it is now.) Their solos were a lot of fun. Overall it was a very relaxed, happy environment and we enjoyed it a lot. Plus, FRAPPUCINOS!!!!! Frappucinos will forever remind me of walking around with my friends Sam, Dean, Nick, Claire, and Brii on a Wednesday afternoon.... if you're reading this, I love you guys!
The Ukuleleist ;)
So, that was it for the day! The day after that we actually saw some MORE music. This time it was a jazz group, which we enjoyed a lot. They had a wonderful singer, who also improvised a lot, and it was really fun to hear all the individual solos (though again, I felt like the vocalist totally stole the show). I really like vocalists who not only sing the song, but also add their own touch, and use their voices like an instrument, improvising and such. Anyway, we also walked around in the Latin Quarter and enjoyed the sights of Paris. It was not a particularly structured day, but of course a fun one. My only complaint is that the performance was outside and so we had to sit on the hard floor for a few hours. Believe me, that hurt.
All right, moving on! The day after that we walked around for a while, exploring a new neighborhood and some shops, and then went to see Monet's Water Lilies. Claude Monet moved out into the countryside in his later years and built a beautiful water garden: a pond filled with water lillies with a Japanese bridge going over it and willows hanging over the side. He then did eight humongous paintings, panoramic style, which were designed to be hung in two circular rooms (four per room), immersing the viewer in the pond. Actually, he did more than eight, but I think only these eight are panoramic style, done in that scale. If you remember, Claude Monet is an Impressionist painter, and like many of his Impressionist colleagues specialized in painting things in different light and portraying that through color. So the first circular room, with the first four paintings, showed the pond at four different times of day. Impressionists were also very good at creating something out of a few brushstrokes, so look up close and the painting is a mess of color, but stand back and you've got a full landscape. Some of them were more or less distinct than others, but all of them were absolutely beautiful. I also loved how he created reflections of the sky in the water, making it unclear where the horizon was and what was what. As someone who greatly enjoys Impressionism, it was the pinnacle of fine art, not to mention Monet's career. I absolutely loved it.
This one I took!
These ones my dad took!
And these ones some random people on the Internet took! You can always look for more by these unnamed people! Just Google Monet Water Lilies!
Later on we went to a park and got some ice cream shaped like a rose (it's a chain in Paris called Amorino and all their ice cream cones are shaped like roses) and then that was it!
Aaaaaaand rose-shaped ice cream. 🌹
The next day we were planning on going to the Natural History Museum, but unfortunately it was closed so we went to the Arab World Institute, which was a museum about Arab and Muslim history. Okay, so let me start with the building. My parents' college friend, Francis (hi, Uncle Francis, hope you're reading!) is currently working on a novel, and in one of his scenes (I think it takes place in Silicon Valley) there is a building with windows that have camera-like shutters on them, and they contract and expand in response to the light. Well, it turns out that he got that idea from a public building in Paris. You called it, the Arab World Institute! I think it's a really cool idea because then you have shades which automatically respond to the sunlight and keep the light inside the building at a constant level. That is, if they're working; these ones weren't. But it also looked really good from the outside, so it doesn't matter. The museum was interesting because we got to learn a lot about the ancient cultures in the Arabian area, the many religions which cultivated there (not just Islam but Judaism and Christianity as well) and what that area is like today. After the museum we headed out, my brother went through his daily ritual of tossing a baseball with one of my parents, and then we headed home.
The shutter windows on the Arab World Institute
The next day was really exciting because we were going to.... drumroll please.... Parc Asterix! You guys know Asterix, right? It's a comic about a town of Gauls in northern France who held out against the Roman Empire using an elixir which made them extremely strong and allowed them to completely beat up the Romans at least once per comic. The French are actually very patriotic about the Gauls, and surprisingly patriotic about Asterix. Probably because when reading Asterix, instead of acknowledging the fact that their ancestors were completely destroyed by the Romans and absorbed into their empire, losing their land, honor, and culture, the French can imagine that at least some of the Gauls held out and beat the Romans to a pulp on a regular basis. The Gauls in Asterix are always displayed as fun, cheerful, and loyal, and are completely likable. The Romans, on the other hand, are portrayed as comical, ridiculous, and untrustworthy, causing you to immediately dislike them. I think it's absolutely hilarious that this comic is all about barbarian tribes (sorry, French people) beating up one of the greatest military powers—nay, civilizations—of all time. It's a fun fantasy for the patriotic French. Anyway, Asterix is such a big deal in France that there is actually a theme park dedicated to the comic. So guess where we were on that Wednesday, May 27? Yep, you called it: we were at the theme park, Parc Asterix.
For those of you who don't know, I am a huge roller coaster junkie. I will enter an amusement park, find the three or four scariest rides there, and go on them as soon as possible. At Parc Asterix, there were about three roller coasters which I would rate the most scary. And they were all absolutely amazing. One of them was the kind where you're hanging from your seat with no floor beneath you, and there were tons of twists where you were upside down and then righted and then upside down again. Another one had five consecutive loops with no breaks in between. The third one was more of a classic, wooden roller coaster, like the Big Dipper down at the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk, with huge drops and dips. They were all awesome for entirely different reasons. We spent the entire day in the park going on rides, from ten in the morning when they opened to six in the evening when they closed. I loved it.
By the way, all three of those were from the Internet. Sorry. I'm having some technical difficulties with the photos and I can't seem to find the right ones.
Oh, and how could I forget? There was also a performance that we saw, which was called "Romans vs. Gauls." I'm sure you can imagine how that went. As we walked in my dad whispered to me, "Romans vs. Gauls; also known as Globetrotters vs. Generals." I laughed at that one. (For those of you who don't get the reference, the Globetrotters are a fake basketball team which performs tricks and stuff. They always play another fake team called the Generals, whom they crush every time. It's all choreographed.) I was actually rather surprised at first because they were doing a dance-off, but it quickly became evident that the show wasn't just fighting, but all sorts of games, in which the Romans cheated each time until the final one when Asterix's dog, Dogmatix, came in with a canteen of elixir and the Gauls quickly turned it around, giving us the predicted "Globetrotters vs. Generals." It was very funny, especially because the crowd was very active and supportive of the Gauls (although of course, being in French, we didn't understand a word of it).
The next day was a lot more mellow. Remember how we were supposed to go to the Natural History Museum but it was closed and so we went to the Arab World Institute instead? Well, it was open that Thursday, so we finally made it there. I have to say, it was quite amazing, although I have some mixed feelings about it. I definitely enjoyed myself there, but the entire thing is basically dedicated to stuffed animals. And I don't mean the plush teddy bear that you slept with when you were three. I guess it's not as bad as it could be, since all of them were stuffed way back in the 19th century when people were way less aware and it was completely acceptable to kill endangered animals so as to have them in your museum, but it's still pretty sad. That aside, I did enjoy the museum. It was pretty amazing what they had there. One of my favorite sections was the Endangered and Extinct Animals section (or whatever it was called in French). Yeah, I know, they're endangered/extinct, so why are we bothering to stuff them and put them in museums? Like I said, all of these are from the 19th century. Anyway, not only did I enjoy seeing some animals that are no longer alive today and some which we may soon lose (the Siberian tiger was absolutely beautiful) but the hall which they were housed in felt very Darwinian. Its architecture was very 19th century, and the animals were just housed in glass cases, one after the other, lining the walls. It was very different from the more modern central section, which was artfully organized. Here it was just case after case of animals, and with the Victorian style wood carving and the stuffed endangered/extinct animals I totally felt like I was transported into the 19th century. That is, until the school group of 6-year-olds came in. Actually, there was another section of the museum which had pictures of what the museum looked like during the 19th century and it all looked exactly like that. Row after row of stuffed animals, lining the walls in glass cases, floor to ceiling. It looked incredibly cluttered. They must have about 90% of their collection packed away in a library or something, because it looks like there are thousands missing now. It's incredible. Anyway, back to the Hall of Endangered and Extinct Animals. Aside from the Siberian tiger which was there, they also had a dodo bird. YES, A DODO BIRD. I was really excited because dodo birds are iconic when it comes to extinct animals. You start talking about extinct species and the first thing which comes to mind for most people is a dodo bird. Unless you're talking to a four-year-old, in which case the first thing that will come to mind is dinosaurs. (I speak from experience as someone who can still remember being four, and believe me, bring up extinction and I started running my mouth on dinosaurs and meteorites. I was HUGE on dinosaurs.) Anyway, I can now tell you all first-hand that dodo birds are huge and incredibly ugly. Their feathers are nice, but their faces are weird and they just look like giant, fat, waddling chickens with weird beaks. The closest I can compare their faces to are pelicans, although that's kind of a stretch. Anyway, it really is a pity that they're extinct, despite being rather hideous.
So, onward! Where to next? The Eiffel Tower! The next day we finally made it to the top. The lines for the Eiffel tower looked killer, but they were only about twenty to thirty minutes, which is nothing compared to the Catacombs.We all packed into a huge elevator which took us probably about 2/3 the way there, and then took another one which went all the way to the top, after which we walked up a short flight of stairs and were out in the open. The view was absolutely gorgeous. We could see the city of Paris 360 degrees. In total we probably spent about an hour and a half at the tower (between the lines, the elevators, and the photo ops) and then after we got down we headed to a fashion museum. I absolutely love fashion museums. Probably the first time I ever visited a fashion exhibit was when the Jean Paul Gaultiers exhibit visited San Francisco at the de Young. It was amazing. His stuff is just so outlandish and while it's really not anything that I would ever wear it truly feels like wearable art. Unfortunately, now I can only vaguely remember it, but I definitely enjoyed it at the time. Anyway, the designer whose works the museum was showing was named Jeanne Lanvin. I really enjoyed a lot of her stuff, especially her designs from the '20s. They were extremely intricate and beautiful, and all of her stuff really reflected the basic styles of the era while adding many an interesting detail which made it extremely unique. Many pieces also looked like the costumes from Star Wars, oddly enough. My dad said it's because both she and George Lucas drew from Chinese and Japanese fashion. Unfortunately we were not allowed to take photos in the museum, but I've gotten some off the Internet of the exact stuff that we saw.
The next day, my friends, was our final day in the beautiful city of Paris. I must say, of all the places we've visited on this trip so far, it's definitely high up there on my list of favorites. We headed out in the morning to Versailles, the gorgeous palace of the kings of France. Going there, I could immediately tell why the French Revolution happened. Didn't I say at one point that the French are overly fond of gold foil? If not, I'm saying it now; there was many a building or statue in Paris which was covered in it. But that was nothing compared to this. Every little decal on the facade of the palace—every statue, every balcony, every cap to every roof, and of course the entire front gate—were covered in gold. While the people were out there starving, this is what the royal family was spending their precious tax money on. And it didn't end when we went inside, either. Oh, no, far from it. And here I thought that the Habsburgs in Vienna were lavish! Pah! Room after room of beautiful paintings, thick drapery, ornate furniture, and of course the ever-present gold foil, which covered absolutely everything. I've never seen so much gold in my entire life; I think I'll throw up if I see it ever again. And so many rooms, too! The unimportant nobles had a minimum of five. Each one being about twice to three times the size of my bedroom, of course. And then there were the gardens. Oh, the gardens! They cover 1,976 acres. That, my friends, is roughly three square miles. THREE SQUARE MILES. How's that for a backyard? The gardens were very beautiful, with fountain shows and hedges everywhere. We walked around in them for some time, and then headed to some of the other buildings in the area, which were also built by the ruling family. While Versailles was built by Louis XIV, "The Sun King," these were built by Marie Antoinette. It was actually kind of random. I mean, she already had this giant palace, why did she need anything else? But I suppose she wanted something a bit more private; these buildings were built to accommodate her alone. There were two different ones, cottages by royal standards, despite each being about the size of our house back home. Marie Antoinette also had a little village built, which as far as I could tell never housed anyone but was just built on a whim of the Queen's. It totally felt like Disneyland because it was just too cute and perfect, with vines growing up the sides of cottages, flowers and vegetables in the front yards, a lake, a water mill, and a lighthouse. Marie Antoinette probably said, "I think I want a cute little peasant village," or something along those lines. While meanwhile the real peasants are starving. Anyway, there was also a gorgeous English-style garden, which I much prefer to to the French ones. The French gardens are all hedges and stuff, while English gardens are about flowers and grass. This one had a field with a stream running through it, wildflowers growing, a Classical pavilion, and an adorable wooden bridge. Still, though, I can't believe they were wasting that much money on something so superficial.
Despite all that lavishness, we definitely enjoyed Versailles; in fact perhaps we enjoyed the palace because of it. As with every other palace that we've visited in Europe so far, I exclaimed in wonder at least once, "These people were insane!"
My brother thought it hilarious that we could take a ride in what he called "Obelix's butt." I was feeling rather sick; it was on a carousel but it was basically a teacup ride.
For those of you who don't know, I am a huge roller coaster junkie. I will enter an amusement park, find the three or four scariest rides there, and go on them as soon as possible. At Parc Asterix, there were about three roller coasters which I would rate the most scary. And they were all absolutely amazing. One of them was the kind where you're hanging from your seat with no floor beneath you, and there were tons of twists where you were upside down and then righted and then upside down again. Another one had five consecutive loops with no breaks in between. The third one was more of a classic, wooden roller coaster, like the Big Dipper down at the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk, with huge drops and dips. They were all awesome for entirely different reasons. We spent the entire day in the park going on rides, from ten in the morning when they opened to six in the evening when they closed. I loved it.
The Oziris, the roller coaster where we hung from our seats
The Goudurix, the one with five consecutive loops
The Tonnerre de Zeus, the classic wooden one with a lot of dips. It was a lot scarier than it looked, I assure you.
By the way, all three of those were from the Internet. Sorry. I'm having some technical difficulties with the photos and I can't seem to find the right ones.
This one's by me, I promise.
The next day was a lot more mellow. Remember how we were supposed to go to the Natural History Museum but it was closed and so we went to the Arab World Institute instead? Well, it was open that Thursday, so we finally made it there. I have to say, it was quite amazing, although I have some mixed feelings about it. I definitely enjoyed myself there, but the entire thing is basically dedicated to stuffed animals. And I don't mean the plush teddy bear that you slept with when you were three. I guess it's not as bad as it could be, since all of them were stuffed way back in the 19th century when people were way less aware and it was completely acceptable to kill endangered animals so as to have them in your museum, but it's still pretty sad. That aside, I did enjoy the museum. It was pretty amazing what they had there. One of my favorite sections was the Endangered and Extinct Animals section (or whatever it was called in French). Yeah, I know, they're endangered/extinct, so why are we bothering to stuff them and put them in museums? Like I said, all of these are from the 19th century. Anyway, not only did I enjoy seeing some animals that are no longer alive today and some which we may soon lose (the Siberian tiger was absolutely beautiful) but the hall which they were housed in felt very Darwinian. Its architecture was very 19th century, and the animals were just housed in glass cases, one after the other, lining the walls. It was very different from the more modern central section, which was artfully organized. Here it was just case after case of animals, and with the Victorian style wood carving and the stuffed endangered/extinct animals I totally felt like I was transported into the 19th century. That is, until the school group of 6-year-olds came in. Actually, there was another section of the museum which had pictures of what the museum looked like during the 19th century and it all looked exactly like that. Row after row of stuffed animals, lining the walls in glass cases, floor to ceiling. It looked incredibly cluttered. They must have about 90% of their collection packed away in a library or something, because it looks like there are thousands missing now. It's incredible. Anyway, back to the Hall of Endangered and Extinct Animals. Aside from the Siberian tiger which was there, they also had a dodo bird. YES, A DODO BIRD. I was really excited because dodo birds are iconic when it comes to extinct animals. You start talking about extinct species and the first thing which comes to mind for most people is a dodo bird. Unless you're talking to a four-year-old, in which case the first thing that will come to mind is dinosaurs. (I speak from experience as someone who can still remember being four, and believe me, bring up extinction and I started running my mouth on dinosaurs and meteorites. I was HUGE on dinosaurs.) Anyway, I can now tell you all first-hand that dodo birds are huge and incredibly ugly. Their feathers are nice, but their faces are weird and they just look like giant, fat, waddling chickens with weird beaks. The closest I can compare their faces to are pelicans, although that's kind of a stretch. Anyway, it really is a pity that they're extinct, despite being rather hideous.
Yeah, the pelican comparison was more than a bit of a stretch... but see what I mean? It's really ugly. Not that it was deserving of extinction.
The Room of Endangered and Extinct Species
The Paris Natural History Museum now. I unfortunately couldn't find any photos of it from the 1800s.
On a side note, did you guys know that hippopotamus teeth are really freaking scary?
Another quick shot of this elegant steel tower in the sky
We all really loved the dress in the middle, which was called the "Lesbos dress." Or was it the "Lesbian dress"? I can't quite remember.
The next day, my friends, was our final day in the beautiful city of Paris. I must say, of all the places we've visited on this trip so far, it's definitely high up there on my list of favorites. We headed out in the morning to Versailles, the gorgeous palace of the kings of France. Going there, I could immediately tell why the French Revolution happened. Didn't I say at one point that the French are overly fond of gold foil? If not, I'm saying it now; there was many a building or statue in Paris which was covered in it. But that was nothing compared to this. Every little decal on the facade of the palace—every statue, every balcony, every cap to every roof, and of course the entire front gate—were covered in gold. While the people were out there starving, this is what the royal family was spending their precious tax money on. And it didn't end when we went inside, either. Oh, no, far from it. And here I thought that the Habsburgs in Vienna were lavish! Pah! Room after room of beautiful paintings, thick drapery, ornate furniture, and of course the ever-present gold foil, which covered absolutely everything. I've never seen so much gold in my entire life; I think I'll throw up if I see it ever again. And so many rooms, too! The unimportant nobles had a minimum of five. Each one being about twice to three times the size of my bedroom, of course. And then there were the gardens. Oh, the gardens! They cover 1,976 acres. That, my friends, is roughly three square miles. THREE SQUARE MILES. How's that for a backyard? The gardens were very beautiful, with fountain shows and hedges everywhere. We walked around in them for some time, and then headed to some of the other buildings in the area, which were also built by the ruling family. While Versailles was built by Louis XIV, "The Sun King," these were built by Marie Antoinette. It was actually kind of random. I mean, she already had this giant palace, why did she need anything else? But I suppose she wanted something a bit more private; these buildings were built to accommodate her alone. There were two different ones, cottages by royal standards, despite each being about the size of our house back home. Marie Antoinette also had a little village built, which as far as I could tell never housed anyone but was just built on a whim of the Queen's. It totally felt like Disneyland because it was just too cute and perfect, with vines growing up the sides of cottages, flowers and vegetables in the front yards, a lake, a water mill, and a lighthouse. Marie Antoinette probably said, "I think I want a cute little peasant village," or something along those lines. While meanwhile the real peasants are starving. Anyway, there was also a gorgeous English-style garden, which I much prefer to to the French ones. The French gardens are all hedges and stuff, while English gardens are about flowers and grass. This one had a field with a stream running through it, wildflowers growing, a Classical pavilion, and an adorable wooden bridge. Still, though, I can't believe they were wasting that much money on something so superficial.
Ya. Lots of moolah.
A pavilion behind one of Versailles' "cottages"
I definitely prefer the English garden.
Marie Antoinette's little peasant town. *Rolls eyes*
The many fountains of Versailles.
That evening we took the train back to Paris and spent our last night in that beautiful city at home in our amazing apartment. There was definitely a sense of finality, of closure, in the air. And guess what we had for dinner? Chinese takeout.
