From France to Frontier

At this very moment, I am sitting in front of my parents’ computer with our beloved dog Radar at my feet. The temperature in the house is colder than I would like, but I know that even colder temps will plague my existence as Jack Frost makes his home here for the winter. It’s strange to be back here in Frontier – where I was immediately enlisted to help with the weekly senior’s meal. Wednesday lunch is the time for all the grandmas and grandpas to assemble in the senior citizen’s centre to enjoy such delicacies as steak or meatloaf or roast beef. All the old ladies were straining their eyes to figure out who the young woman in the kitchen was. Eventually, they figured out who I was and had to come and say how they didn’t recognize me. It’s definitely strange to be back in a place where everyone knows your name. Well, if they don’t know your name, they know your mom or your grandma or maybe your great grandma and put you into your place right away.

But it’s even stranger to think that less than a week ago, I was on the other side of the Atlantic with Euros and Pounds jingling in my pocket. Already, it seems like a lifetime ago. I’ll try to catch you up with my final week and a half in Europe. A lot happened so expect a few more instalments.

Let’s go back in time to Wednesday, November 9th. Rain was spilling out of the dark clouds while we sat on the RER train taking us to the outskirts of Paris. We didn’t see any rioting during our time in Paris, although once we saw a bunch of cop cars race out of the station bound for the suburbs. We actually met a few tourists who didn’t even know that the riots were going on. We had no fear of going to this particular suburb though because it was day time and it was Versailles.

My first sight of the palace made glamorous by Louis XIV, the Sun King, was rather soggy and drab, full of black guys running through the mud puddles trying to sell me an unwanted umbrella. The architecture may not be as splendid as that of Neuschwanstein, but the size is definitely worthy of awe. Lines of Asian tour groups waited outside the doors with their umbrellas. We kept our hoods up and looked in vain for a place to buy entrance tickets. Everything seemed closed except for the gift shop. Mer went inside and returned with the discouraging news: the Versailles staff was on strike. How very French of them to be on strike. Everyone was lined up in hopes that the strike might end soon.

Since Mer loves gardens and parks, we began to walk around the gardens behind the palace. During the summer, you have to pay just to be in the grounds. Statues, fountains, flowers, and trees are all arranged tastefully and rather lavishly. I think it would be almost overwhelming. As you go further from the main palace, the gardens become more of a natural woodsy park with a cross shaped canal through the center. A couple smaller palaces are nestled in the back. It must be very nice in the summer months.

We were not there for summer, however, so we didn’t have to pay to get in. Everything had already been winterized. The flower beds were all tilled and put to rest. The fountains were turned off. Smaller side gardens were locked. All the statues were covered with sacks. And it was raining and I couldn’t get into the palace so my mood kept getting grumpier, especially as I contemplated all the things I could be doing in Paris instead of waiting for Versailles to open as I trudged through soggy winter gardens. Meridith was enjoying the garden nonetheless and I tried to be a little more cheerful and push aside my negative thoughts and pray for the Frenchmen to go back to work.

Which thankfully, they did.

That afternoon, we donned the ear phones of our audio guides and made our way through one ornate room to another. We learned about the getting up and going to bed rituals of the kings. People would wait for hours just for the opportunity to help the king get dressed. It seems so ridiculous now. I would get tired of so much needless pomp and circumstance. The wall coverings were so ornate. A lot of the original furniture had been lost or destroyed through the turbulent years of revolution and then war. It was just interesting being in such a famous place where so much history had taken place. I saw the doorway through which Marie Antoinette had tried to escape the revolutionaries. I saw the marble courtyard where the French used to riot and protest.

Twice we walked through the most famous room of all – the Hall of Mirrors. This is where the Treaty of Versailles was signed and I think prior to that the nation of Germany was created there. Windows run along one wall and mirrors the other. Huge chandeliers hang from the ceiling and marble pillars and sculptures are everywhere else. It is a very imposing room. It’s too bad we didn’t get to see it. Most of it was covered up for restoration. The open part of the room was stripped bare of its adornments. Apparently it really needed the repair, but unfortunately, it had to be now.

I was quite surprised at the amount of disrepair I saw in the palace. I know it’s old and France has about a million or two old castles to take care of, but I still expect them to take better care of Versailles. The admission is more expensive than any other castle in France and tons of people go through there every year. I saw lots of peeling paint. I enjoyed Versailles, but it wasn’t as impressive as I expected. I think if it was the first big palace I’d seen, I’d have been impressed, but by this point of the trip I was used to seeing old style luxury.

We got back to Paris in time for me to go to a final art museum. Meridith had some final shopping to do so we went our separate ways. After going through the Louvre and Musee D’Orsay, I had seen a lot of the history of art so I opted to make my art experience complete by going to the Centre Pompidou, one of the modern art museums. The building was the first “inside out” building in Paris with its brightly colored ductwork all on the outside. Being under 26 has a lot of financial benefits in France. You can get the equivalent of a “student price”. So I bought my reduced ticket and spent an hour or so looking at works by Warhol, Ernst, Pollock, Magritte, and Matisse. Some of it I didn’t appreciate, but I guess that’s what I expected of modern art. One of my favourite works was a smashed up piano glued to a board. I also appreciated a stool made from the metal seat of a piece of old farm equipment. We have a slightly nicer version in our parents’ basement. My brother Gregg and I painted it with cans of Tremclad. I had a few minutes to spare before I had to go to meet Meridith so I visited one of the exhibitions. It was a wall-less labyrinth. I wore a headset which vibrated whenever I was off the mark. I was enjoying it and lost track of time and therefore had to run to the subway station.
I ran around a while before I found Mer on the steps of the American church. I hadn’t eaten anything since lunch and wasn’t thinking clearly and made a lot more exercise for myself. Well, once we were together again, we crossed the Alma Bridge and joined the next Seine river cruise in celebration of our final night in Paris, the city I loved as much as I thought I would. I had done a night cruise around Hong Kong harbour and enjoyed the quiet as I gazed at the lights of the city.

This cruise was a little different. I think they had borrowed the tape from one of the city tour buses. In rapid succession with no pauses, an explanation of the sights being seen was given in multiple languages. It was so hectic that it was hard to understand. Since the river is lower than the city, it was hard to see the sights anyways – especially when the Asian tourists take flash photographs of themselves on the boat. My dilated pupils struggled to focus on anything. To avoid the busy photographers who kept standing up and blocking our view, we went to the back deck where a different type of Asian tour group was. A school group of Japanese teenagers played around and laughed and took pictures and shouted and seemed to ignore everything. I didn’t enjoy it, but it drove Meridith crazy. It was cold too. Eventually we went back to the front deck which had thinned out because of the weather and had a more enjoyable time for the last twenty minutes. I got to see the mini Statue of Liberty. But I was definitely ready for the boat ride to be over. A crepe and then one more sleep in the city.

Thursday, November 10 found us in Chartres, most famous for its cathedral with its mismatched towers. One tower is Romanesque and the other is Gothic. Most of the old Romanesque church was destroyed and the newer Gothic church was built up around the fragments. Inside, the sun shines through ancient stain glass windows, including one of the Blue Virgin, supposedly the source of some people’s visions. Around the back of the nave is a piece of cloth believed to be Mary’s veil. But more impressive to me were the carvings. Around the choir was a series of 3-D carvings of the life of Christ. They aren’t relief pictures. They are mini-statues. We were able to go up the Gothic tower and look out at the city with its plenitude of red roofs.

We ran into one problem when we got to Chartres. There were no left luggage lockers at the train station and we had all our luggage with us. We inquired at the tourist office and found out that since 9-11, left luggage places must be equipped with x-ray machines to screen out bombs, etc. The machines are expensive so most places just do away with left luggage. So that left us with no place to put our bags. We set everything down by a bench in front of the cathedral and took turns going inside. I read Meridith’s copy of Little Women while listening to a couple of old drunks speaking in slurred French. It wasn’t ideal, but it worked.

That day was my parents’ 26 anniversary so I called home and was much surprised to actually get an answer. I was expecting to leave a message on the machine. Mom didn’t recognize my voice and I didn’t recognize hers. It was also Mer’s brother’s birthday so she called him too. Then we had kebabs and bought éclairs and then waited in the bus station. The bus station was decorated in yellow and green with little sheaves of wheat, just like the Saskatchewan flag. It didn’t make me homesick, but it did make me smile.

Our next stop was Blois, in the Loire Valley where once upon a time, all the rich kings and nobility would build fancy chateaux. Our hotel was right across the street from the train station and therefore easy to find. We had a nice sleep in a room with fresh towels and French television. The next day, we saw a couple of chateaux. But I think this entry is long enough for now. More to come . . .