Sam #3: May 20

Louis XIV of France is famously nicknamed "The Sun King" because he claimed that his reign, like the Sun, covered all of France and brought it together. After visiting the Chateau of Versailles today, I couldn't agree more.

Before visiting the zoo, our morning was rather typical for a group of guys staying at a quaint suburban Parisian guesthouse. We ate a quick breakfast chez la maison-haute (that means "at the guesthouse" in French) before embarking on a lengthy journey across Ile-de-France courtesy of the RER C line. We had to stop in the middle of our route at Saint-Michel Notre Dame to purchase a different one-time ticket that would take us all the way out to Versailles. This process, which could have taken two minutes, instead burned fifteen minutes. Most of this time was spent waiting on the same platform and trying to find heat crêpes with a magnifying glass in an underground metro stop.

We finally hopped back on an identical train and rode all the way to Versailles Rive Gauche, which is a different stop from Versailles Chantiers on the way to St. Quentin, which is COMPLETELY different from Versailles Chantiers as the terminus of the train heading in the opposite direction. Luckily for us mortal metro riders, there is a little bronze box next to Versailles RG (as it is referred to by only the hippest little metro signs) that reads "Chateau de Versailles", which is the ego-friendly Mecca we seek. Note the keystroke difference between ego-friendly and eco-friendly.

Exiting the Versailles RG station brings you out into a bright busy street with a couple sketchy street vendors, a quintiligual freelance tour guide offering her services to anybody who will listen (including the 3-year-old Asian baby napping on its mother's back), a football boutique offering "Oficial Tshrtts of the World cup", and the historic palace nowhere in sight. The crowds are so anxious to stroke the ego of a man 300 years dead that stopping to tie your shoe for 20 seconds could result in pickpocketing, losing other members of your group, or a quintiligual tour guide offering her services to you. We, however, are determined elite tourists who are holier than thou other tourists. We don't stop for street tour guides. We stop for stationary air-conditioned tour guide offices. We don't post for photos in front of Versailles. We pose for 12.4 megapixel 4-D holographic narrated-by-Morgan-Freeman photos in front of Versailles. Thus it only makes sense that we bought our tickets at some tourism place 100 meters outside the palace to buy tickets in a queue of 3 people, which was far more tolerable than the 50 meter queue for the ticket office at the palace itself.

Immediately upon seeing Versailles, there are a few things that struck us immediately. 1) This place is huge. 2) This place is shiny. 3) Half of France is here. 4) It's toasty outside. 5) What is the other half of France doing? 6) That's a really long line. 7) Sunglasses are good. 8) Did we lock the door to our room? 9) Crap. 10) We have to stand in that line to get in the chateau. After these initial thoughts passed, we collected ourselves from wild rampant outbursts of passionate anger and waited in line; very much a slap in the face to Italian culture indeed. As a reward for our patience (which wasn't really tested at all), we got through the line in about 10 minutes and began the stunning audio tour en anglais.

The chateau of Versailles is by far the most lavish private residence ever conceived despite the lack of 20th technology. Louis XIV literally had the entire GDP of France at his disposal and decided to spend it all on himself. He claimed to be a strong Christian and to always put God first, but he was undoubtedly second. If the rich man passes like a camel through a needle's eye, then Louis XIV must pass the entire palace of Versailles through a syringe. I could fit my entire house in one room. The decorations pay attention to detail on a different level. Every bit of the crown molding 25 feet above the floor is meticulously painted and carved. The doorknobs are painted the same color as the trim. The artwork on each ceiling complements its featured piece above the fireplace. The Nazis occupied Paris because it was easier than occupying Versailles. There are not enough descriptors to justify the grandeur of the chateau of Versailles. But if you thought the chateau was nice, wait until you see the backyard.

The gardens of Versailles are free and open to the public without a ticket. Good thing, because printing enough paper to ticket each visitor to the gardens would require 63% of the Amazon. Like I said earlier, I see why he was called the Sun King. To walk from the chateau to the other side of the gardens feels like walking across France, and there are so many people there it feels like the entire French population is back there. I am NOT joking in any way when I say that 10 million people could comfortably fit on the property. Since I can't write about the content of Versailles, I'll just say that we stayed 5 hours and saw new things the entire time. We left around 4pm to head back to our guesthouse and clean up for dinner.

Whipped beaten and guillotined, we rode the C line back to Vitry-sur-Seine. The other four went to the supermarket for some grub, and I headed straight to the room to shower and clean up for the Bernelles. We spent about 20 minutes back in the room snacking and putting on respectable clothes before heading back out. I made sure that we stopped at a florist to buy the Bernelles a really nice bouquet of French flowers, and then headed on the metro, taking two sides of a triangle. I texted Clémence to let her know that we would be at the mercy of the RER, and thankfully she assured me we would be welcome whenever we arrived.

We arrived at 6:30 for a scheduled 6:00 arrival, but as it turns out, neither Dr. nor Mrs. Bernelle was home. It was so good to see Clémence and Valentin again after just months apart, and I was reminded again of how freaking cool their house is. We sat on the back porch for the first time this year (or so we were told) and shared drinks as we discussed the fine points of French and American education systems. You must know that French conversation is always intellectual - there isn't really such a thing as aimless small talk. We debated class structure and course order for a large majority of the time, which seemed to quench everybody's desire for unawkward social interaction. Dr. Bernelle brought home some baguette and lit the grill soon after we arrived, and Mrs. Bernelle made the rest of dinner. Our meal, which was also on the back porch, consisted of a cold tomato bisque, fettucine pasta with a spicy marinara sauce, grilled steak, duck, and rabbit meats, followed lastly by a devilish chocolate cake that Clémence made with her good friend Mathilde about 2 hours prior. The other boys really enjoyed meeting the Bernelles but especially Cedric due to his strong French heritage. I know that he had so much fun discussing French life with them!

After dinner Clémence and Valentin took us on a guided tour of the house, during which Valentin almost took my eye out with duct tape. We got to see all the bedrooms, the PS3 loft where Valentin plays Call of Duty (online gaming was seriously discussed immediately following this revelation), and the bedroom in the basement where my sister Hannah will be staying when she comes to visit later in the summer. We posed for a quick picture, said our au revoirs, and then Dr. Bernelle was kind enough to drive us back to the guesthouse late at night. His GPS must have been doing some nasty jenkem because it had horrible orientation issues in the heart of Ivry, a fairly big suburb with wide streets and key landmarks. With the help of good old-fashioned paper maps (printed from Google Maps nonetheless), we found our way back to the guesthouse. We thanked Dr. Bernelle profusely and he headed back to Sceaux.

We headed into the quiet guesthouse and busted out some card games and some blog action. Since there was no other noise coming from the building, it was evident that our rowdy Vegas neighbors were still out after midnight. While I uploaded Christian's photos to the blog, the other four played some nasty card games. I wasn't in the room but I did hear chainsaw noises and a skippy Bon Jovi CD. It must have been highly inappropriate. We finished up cards, Christian finished up his photo blog (go read it if you haven't already), and shortly thereafter all the Who's were asnooze, ready for another day of Parisian fury. I better rest up to keep up with this Whobilation.

Yours oh-so truly,
The Grinch