In a Maze of Twisty Passages, All Alike

Last night I took a half tablet of the Amazon sleep aid medicine to combat my off-kilter jet lag. It is supposed to have the same sleep ingredient that is used in NyQuil. I also stayed awake until 9:00 PM. Unfortunately, it did not do the trick. At 1:00 AM my body decided it needed to be awake, so I read for a while (on my phone, so I wouldn’t wake Kathy), and then got up and worked on the blog until sunrise, when I went for a walk over by Notre Dame, picked up a baguette and a loaf of seedy bread for breakfast, came home, ate and showered, and was out the door by 8:30 AM to catch the RER C train for Versailles.

Our reservation was for 10:00 AM and we made it in plenty of time, with no train strike to be found. The line was relatively short and moved fast. 

The inside of the King’s apartments are opulent, extravagant, and, to my eyes, not especially tasteful. Built before air-conditioning, and not apparently retrofitted in the centuries following, the endless succession of rooms reminds me of the early Colossal Cave computer game. “You are in a maze of twisty passages, all alike.” 

The mass of bodies creates its own weather system. Outside it was cool and brisk; inside, it was a sauna. We saw one woman step over the guide-rails and start wrestling with one of the French doors, trying to get some of the outside air in.

Both Kathy and I remarked on the fact that there don’t seem to be any hallways. To get to room #10, you have to pass through rooms 1 to 9. Perhaps there are hallways, shut away from all the prying tourist eyes.

The one thing I really was impressed by were the murals on several of the ceilings. How would you like to wake up to that every morning?

With the Paris Museum Pass, there are a number of attractions that you must reserve a time slot for. I made reservations for all of them. In the afternoon, we had reservations for the Gran Trianon, the Petite Trianon, and the Queen’s hamlet. These were remote, smaller palaces where Louis and Marie Antionette would repair to when the goings on in the main palace got out of hand.

After touring the main apartments, we all had a little sympathy for Louis. We were drained, and so we decided to skip the afternoon adventure, (with its one-hour, round-trip hike), and stop on the way back to Paris, for some lunch. 

The Metro dropped us off two long blocks from the Eiffel Tower on Rue Cler, the market street made famous by travel guru Rick Steves. We ate at a very cute small brasserie called the Petite Cler.

Fame has brought change to the area, over the years, but it still retains much of its charm. I expected to see the street flooded with tourists carrying Rick’s blue and gold guide book. But, in fact, at lunch we still predominately heard the other diners speaking French. My brother Gary reminded me that I have to take pictures of the food. Kathy had a nice shrimp salad.

Matt and Hosanna both went for the butcher’s cut steak with baked potatoes…

…while I had Chicken Milanese with spaghetti. Everything was very good, and I’d recommend it if you’re in the area. 

After lunch, Kathy went to the fromagerie (cheese shop) next door and bought some cheese to take with us back to the apartment. Then, we headed to the gelato shop for dessert.

Fed, refreshed and ready for adventure once again, we headed over to the park space that faces the Eiffel Tower, called the Champs de Mars, intending to walk along it to the base of the Tower. It was not to be. Most of the park was undergoing renovation, and so we had to walk around it. That was a little disappointing.

When we got to the base of the Tower, we found another change. The last time Kathy and I were here (amazingly, ten years ago), everyone could walk up to the base of the tower. Now, only ticket holders can get close to it. We didn’t have tickets but Hosanna got a picture through the plexiglass, and seemed happy.

Speaking of things that have changed: on the way to the Eiffel Tower, we passed the hotel where Kathy and I stayed for several days in 2007, eighteen years ago. They changed the awning out front, and replaced the planters when the plants outgrew them. What’s strange is I remember that trip like it was yesterday. Actually, I take that back; I remember it better than yesterday, unfortunately.

When we got back to our neighborhood we spent an hour or so resting, and then went to an early dinner at Shawarma Lovers, a Syrian fast-food restaurant about three blocks from our apartment. Matt had a chicken shawarma wrap, Kathy and Hosanna shared a falafel plate and I had a kafta pita wrap. On the way home, Kathy and I went shopping, while the kids left to explore the neighborhood.