¡Que viva la revolución! Oh Wait, Wrong Language...

We only had one day left with Emily before she made her way back to the the U.S. Finally we were going to get to Elena's one request for the trip: to visit Versailles. The only thing I really knew about Versailles before going there is that there is a big ass palace. And I think that's what most people go there for. Now I know there is a big ass palace, a train station, and a Starbucks! Oh, there were some cafés too. Another interesting thing for me personally was the fact that Versailles is outside Paris. In the five months that I have been here now it was the first time I had ventured beyond the Boulevard Périphérique (the circular road enclosing Paris proper and protecting us from those insidious suburbs). This was also the first time I had ridden a proper RER train, rather than just a subway train.

It was interesting to watch the landscape change as we traveled southwest out of the city. First I saw what looked like a business district with high-rise office buildings for companies like Microsoft. It was a very different Paris than the one made up of thousand year-old buildings that I am used to seeing. Beyond the ring road the residences changed too. Rather than packed and stacked old commercial/residential dwellings like the one I live in, there were ugly high-rise apartments the likes of which I have only ever seen on the outskirts of Madrid and on TV shows about the American "inner city". What impressed me even more than that was the fact that there were individual houses everywhere. It was the first I had seen a detached single-family home since I left the U.S. And of course, European style, they were all quaint and adorable. I envied many vegetable gardens along the way.

 Cha notices me spying while he and Emily take in the scenery.

It only took us about forty minutes to get to Versailles and when we stepped out of the train station all signs pointed the way to the palace. There were no large crowds yet and I was glad for that.

Private chapel seen from the palace's exterior.

This is only about half of the property.

"Hmmm... How can I make my giant palace even more lavish?"

"I know: Gold on the roof!"

 Private chapel, lower level

Private chapel, upper level.

I'm sure God is really impressed.

 This was my favorite section. Every room was a different color!

And each was filled with portraits of dead rich dudes.

 This picture reminds me of a funny story:

Throughout the palace there were halls like this and statues like these ones. One such statue was a nude man in a heroic pose with the standard and ever-so-convenient flowing cloth that just happened to be flowing across his genitals so as not to offend the statue's beholders. This type of statue is typical all over Paris. One small problem: If you are standing under the statue (which is the only way you can look at it because it, like the ones pictured above, is on top of a five foot-high podium) you can see what's under the flowing cloth. The sculptor, perhaps as a joke, had included a nice stone-firm set of BALLS! I had to wonder what the point of the cloth was if you could just peek under it and check out this guy's family jewels. It was so bewildering and hilarious that I forgot to take a picture. Sorry.

I don't usually like the elaborate decoration in places like this, but I can appreciate a good ceiling painting.

 A sexy red room.

 The Hall of Mirrors... and tourists.

 All of the mirrors appeared to be not-so-well disguised secret doors into the chamber(s) behind them.

The canopy of Marie-Antoinette's bed. The floral patterned wallpaper made me want to throw up.

 My, what a lovely arch you have!

This hall had lots of big paintings of macho men doing very homoerotic things like kissing. It was cool.

I'm pretty sure that one of Charlie's goals in life is to have a private library rivaling this one.

And as if the palace wasn't enough space for them, it was then necessary to go outside and marvel at the gigantic private gardens of these royal assholes.

 Reminds me of the reflecting pools in D.C.

 

A nice labyrinthine garden

And thus I concluded: If providing things like free access to healthcare to every man, woman and child in France today (including lousy foreigners like myself) means that some wig-wearing, gold toilet paper-using mega dipshits had to lose their heads and have their schmancy house turned into a museum, well, so be it!

Sleepy time on a Paris-bound train.

Once we got back into town, Tony cooked us up one of my favorite meals: TACOS! Getting gastronomically in touch with the poor nation whose blood runs through my veins was the perfect ending to what became a very sociopolitical outing.