Versailles

The sad thing about my day is that I haven’t been as sore as I was today the whole time I’ve been in Paris, to the point that I couldn’t bend my left knee and put any weight on it, which made the cobbles and uneven surfaces a nightmare, and had me taking all the stairs one at a time – the worst day for arthritis. I’ve had plenty of days here where, even where stairs aren’t fun, I can walk normally, or where walking on the level isn’t a problem. I’m used to being mobile and I hated that feeling of being so slow and debilitated, but at least I can hope it will pass, and it’s not usually that bad. How typical that the one day I was to be on my feet so much and to such enjoyment, I was hobbling about.

Our day trip began at a ridiculously early hour, meeting for the RER to Versailles at 8. In the early morning, everything was funny, though I’m sure were I to repeat them here they would be less so. Much hinged on puns and staring at each other.

We didn’t have to queue for tickets as they were bought on Thursday, as I lay in bed. Here are the girls by the front gates:

Mostly this will be a series of photos. Versailles is Versailles: it’s a big palace with lots of pretty stuff and too many people. Despite the crowds, we enjoyed our day. The only places I was overwhelmed by crowds were the upper levels of the palace, and since the hall of mirrors and Marie Antoinette’s apartments were up there – my two big sightseeing desires – it was worth it. The grounds, on the other hand, were spacious enough for everyone, if never quite tranquil.

First, the chapel from the lower level. It’s an intriguingly designed section of the chateau, as it cuts down through three levels of the building.

Among the many rooms stuffed with interesting paintings, I like this detail with the globe – Western Europe accurately portrayed according to my synaesthesia. Seriously. Except for Switzerland, which in my synaesthesia is (as was still hilarious at 9.30am) neutral.

Most of the royal apartments could only be described as “sumptuous” – I don’t know an equivalent French term.

The famed hall of mirrors was, as promised and between the surging tour groups, fabulous.

And a last glimpse from upstairs, in the form of Marie Antoinette’s bed.

Downstairs, Meg and I (who had lost Alissa and Tina by then, assuming them to be ahead) explored the rooms marked as the Dauphin’s and Dauphine’s, though most seemed to be labelled as Madame du Pompadour’s or Madame du Barry’s, so unless they were all flatmates, I suppose the rooms must have been used for different purposes at different times. In any case, this bed belonged to Madame du Pompadour, who is now forever associated in my mind with the Doctor Who episode “The Girl in the Fireplace”, one of my favourites.

Outside, Meg and I quickly located the golf cart hire booth, and waited for Tina and Alissa, who soon sent me a text message saying, “We’re behind you!” Sure enough, they were inside the house in the Dauphin’s suite, and we had a complicated and ultimately unsuccessful conversation through gesture.

When we managed to reconvene, we set forth in our very own golf cart, waved off by Juan, as Tina and I tried to get used to facing backwards and trusting Meg to warn us when the bumps were coming (we nearly left the cart the speedy way). With Meg in the driving seat and Alissa with the map, the power quickly went to their head.

“Just so you know,” announced Meg, “We are not operating under a ‘no man left behind’ policy. If you fall out, we will be leaving you.”

“And we may back over you a few times before driving off,” added Alissa.

I was not reassured.

I was charged with photography, starting with this view of the rapidly shrinking chateau.

A couple of scenes from the expansive grounds.

The cart and its passengers, before I jumped on to make sure they wouldn’t go without me.

I took a brief video of the golf cart experience.

My favourite part of the day was visiting Marie Antoinette’s retreat, the Petit Trianon, a mansion with a sculpted English garden and even a faux-country hamlet.

At the hamlet, there was a fish-filled river, with some very scary fish that even chased the ducks away.

We also visited the Grand Trianon, a smaller version of the big chateau still used for entertaining foreign visitors, and I loved the view through the terrace.

Once the sun came out properly (and burned me, despite my factor 50 with reapplication), we waited till the fountains were turned on before heading home.