We run out of Harry Potter references, and finally the train arrives. It's a double decker train, but it is packed to the brim with people. We funnel our way to the second level only to realize there is absolutely no seating and are forced to stand awkwardly and hold onto anything we can.
The train makes a few stops. People funnel in and out. Finally Danielle and I are able to grab to seats though a disgruntled older Frenchwoman at one point wanders over to us and grumbles something under her breath. A Frenchman stands up and gives her his seat, not sparing a glare thrown our direction. Sorry, lady. Can't understand your mumbling. We're upholding stereotypes about Americans... The train ride isn't too long. Before long, we arrive in the station and find our way up the streets. It's calmer, quieter, more sparse than Paris... Oh but the throngs of tourists!
We make our way up the cobblestone streets, and in the distance I can see the beautiful, grand, golden gates of Versailles. Ah... as we joked Louis knew how to "pimp his crib."
Versailles is huge... no really. I was astonished by the sheer size of it. We make our way inside where guards check our bags and make us walk through metal detectors (standard, but honestly I find their security systems quite lax... The only people they double check are girls they think are cute). Once inside, we're encouraged to go full tourist and grab some audio guides. At the counter, amidst the chaos of the entryway, I misunderstand the man. Thinking he's asked me what color, I say "rouge." In fact he had asked me what language, misunderstood me (thought I said "Russe"), and began speaking rapidly to me in Russian. I must have looked horrified because the situation was promptly corrected when I blurted out "English!"
We head toward the start of the tour where there's a beautiful corridor stretching out with Roman style statues lining it. I turn on my camera like many others around me, focus, and prepare to take the perfect picture when... some homeboy renovating the area walks down the corridor. He glances at us, shrugs, and takes his sweet-ass time. Keep in mind, it is like the longest hallway ever! By all means man, move at a glacial pace. The least you could do is duck behind a statue...
Versailles is opulence at it's peak. Everything is guilded in gold, the walls are murals and portraits and lavish colors, the ceilings drip with heavy chandeliers, the friggin door knobs are worth drooling over... I took close to 300 pictures, but my favorite room of them all is Marie Antoinette's chambers :)
It's mind-boggling to think someone actually slept in these rooms... Damn. When we finally get through the Chateau and my feet are sufficiently bruised from Japanese tourists, we regroup and head toward the gardens. I feel like I'm in Alice in Wonderland -lost in the Red Queen's gardens. I expect to turn a corner and find cards painting the roses red. The gardens are labyrinth worthy. They extend beyond anything I've ever seen. There are trolleys available to take you from place to place (for a pretty penny, of course) because the distances are so extreme.
Luckily, before we set off, we refuel at a small cafe situated among the garden itself. It's adorable. They serve everything from sandwiches and salads to hamburgers and pasta. I order a pizza classique and make friends with the two cats wandering around the grounds. They're fat, friendly, and know just how to look pathetic. I can't imagine anything more spectacular than being a cat in the gardens of Versailles.
After lunch, we follow Madame Kelton through the maze of green so perfectly trimmed and hedged and neat. I don't know how they make the circular and cone shaped bushes so symmetrical. I feel like a ruler would be required...
Among all the greenery and amazing things we see, two of my favorites:
Marie Antoinette's small home away from the grand Chateau. It was more simple and country-esque which surprised me.
Then, and this is the hilarious part... We found the little peasant village that Marie Antoinette commissioned to be built for when she and her handmaidens wanted to play peasant girls. No, really. The people of France are literally walking through shit in the streets and eating rats, and Marie Antoinette builds a mock village where she can dress up in pretty peasant costumes and go play. I can only imagine when the French people stormed the palace what the look on their faces must have been... Still, the village is adorable. Probably my favorite part of Versailles.
Me and Marie Antoinette. See the resemblance? haha
After touring the village and working up a sufficient sweat, we head toward the small theater Marie Antoinette used when she wished to put on performances for her friends. Did I mention this place is huge?
By this time we've been at Versaille from around 11AM until 5:30PM -walking the entire time. We're sweaty. We're exhausted. My feet hurt so badly even sitting down. Madame Kelton guides us toward the main road following the sorti signs which very annoyingly take us the long route.
Will (whom we've dubbed Will Smith) has steadily become worse and worse and worse. Feeling his pale skin burn, he borrows Kayla's scarf and wraps it around his head like some sort of desert man. Consequently, the scarf makes him hot. He's completely delusional. We're asking if he's going to pass out, and he laughs with glossy eyes. Professor Vessely buys him a water from a stand where he also gives us the best idea ever. They cut fresh oranges in front of you and squeeze the juice with an antiquated juicer. With a few cubes of ice, it is the best orange juice I have ever had in my entire life. It's amazing. I have to get a juicer... Or maybe it's the oranges. It's enough to help me finish out this endless walk.
At this time, Madame Kelton prompts us for another group photo. In the back of the group, I hear Will's delirious laugh.
Seeing how exhausted we are, Madame Kelton decides to buy us all tickets for the tram ride back to the front of the Chateau. We protest. We don't want her to pay that much for us. She tells us it's out of the program budget, and we immediately shut up. The ride back is bumpy and slow, but I can't feel my feet anymore. I've never walked so much in my life as those days in Paris. We walk from the Chateau to the metro station and take the train back to Paris. We don't arrive until 6:30.
I'm bone, drop dead tired. Tara left the group because she'd already seen Versailles so she's bright eyed and bushy tailed when I return. She asks if I want dinner. I groan and say yes. Kayla entices us by recounting the cafe she'd been to the night before and guides us to a cafe down the street, and we sit down. While Tara and I peruse the menus, Kayla's scanning the place. In a hushed voice she leans forward and says, "This isn't the right cafe." We jointly groan under our breaths. Before the waiter can take our drink orders, Kayla tells him in poor French that we have to go. Tara and I don't make eye contact with the waiter. He's silent for awhile. Then, clearly put off, he says "Ok."
We hurry out and rush over to the proper cafe. I'm mortified knowing we just insulted them and fulfilled yet more stereotypes about Americans. I promptly forget it when our waiter arrives with a huge grin and says "Texas?" We say "Oui!" And he goes "Ouais!" (yeahhh!) He's ridiculously nice. He speaks to us half in English and half in French. I order the salmon with sauteed vegetables, and it is like heaven. After the hostel breakfast, too much bread and pastries, I want a real meal. I want something cooked. Oooooohhhh mama...
After dinner, we sit around and share our stories from the day. The waiter surprises us with three creme brulee shots on the house. OMG! I'm officially in love with The Vert Tulip.
We got home, take a shower, and collapse into bed. It's after midnight. I stopped noticing a long time ago. With our window open (there's not A/C anywhere), I can hear the sounds of Paris. It's the perfect lullaby.
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