Cat of the Castle

And then it was New Year's Eve.

I decided to take the Hutchinsons to a place whose exterior I had seen but whose interior I had not: the Château de Vincennes, built in the 12th century. I found this place by chance during a short-lived bike riding stint which ended because of winter and will hopefully resume shortly. Back in November I ventured out to the edge of Paris to ride in the Bois de Vincennes, an enormous wooded space with a lake and numerous safe, traffic-free riding/biking/horse-riding paths. When I emerged from the metro station, I was met with the glorious sight of a giant white medieval castle. Despite how much I complained in my last blog about the frivolities of French nobility, I am a total sucker for ridiculously old (especially ruined) empty stone structures.

Before touring the site we decided to have lunch at one of the brasseries across the street and luckily wandered into Le Table de Troys, which advertised delights such as oysters and choucroute garnie (sausages and sauerkraut). We were not disappointed.

The boys ordered the "Royale", a giant platter of sauerkraut and potatoes topped with an assortment of salted ham, bacon and three different kinds of sausage.

It came with its very own fancy mustard dispenser.

I went with grilled saumon with béarnaise sauce, veggies and mashed potatoes.

Elena had this gigantic and gorgeous salade niçoise (lettuce, veggies, egg and hunks of tuna.

After having our fill we headed across the street to walk it off on the castle grounds.

The main entrance and its drawbridge

The dry and rather grassy moat

The keep

 I wonder if this is the corner where the royals sent their punished children to stand.

 Skybridge into the keep

As is standard in these parts, a later inhabitant of the castle decided he needed his very own private Sainte-Chapelle.

A view from the keep: Here you can see the old rear castle walls and the 17th century extension.

Give two kids medieval toilets to play with and we will pretend to use them.

On my way to the modern latrines, I was met by the familiar sound of meowing as it issued forth from the mouth of a hungry kitty. As we approached one another, I noticed two empty food dishes behind him and figured he must be the resident castle cat, and a well-fed one judging by his rotundity.

"FEEEEEEED ME!"

After my feline fix, we headed into the chapel to have a look. It was tall but not very large, mostly empty and very echoey.

Pretty stained glass behind the altar

Next we decided to head out the back door of the castle and into the Bois de Vincennes to film a new and long-awaited Smoking in the Park. On the way, I caught sight of this cute couple holding hands:

And now...

After that we went home and I promptly curled up into a ball on the couch. I had been coughing and sick already for a couple of weeks and this final outing in the cold air was the straw that broke the camel's back. In the meantime, Charlie was busy making cognac crème anglaise and setting alcohol on fire to pour over the plum pudding.

Miraculously, we did not burn down the entire apartment building. The decade concluded after dessert, all of us retiring by 10:00 PM and me whining and coughing up my lungs. It was totally worth it though.

¡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.

How Did I Get This Effing Old?

Twenty-nine is not old, I guess. I'll wait a few more decades to complain, when the ratio of years to gray hairs lies in favor of the gray hairs (right now I've only got about four so I'm doing good!) I began the day playing nurse for my poor Charlie who was fully sick at this point. Then I set out to collect the supplies for my traditional birthday breakfast: Biscuits and gravy! Normally my mom would be in charge of this, but she is a b'zillion miles away. The second in line would be Chef Charlie, who was down for the count. So it was up to me. And fortunately, I managed not to screw it up even after having difficulty converting the ingredient measurements to grams instead of cups... math has never been my strong point.

Presents!

 Arterial suicide, but sooooo good!

Since I got to pick the day's outing and I'm a total nerd, we ended up at the Natural History Museum's paleontology and comparative anatomy exhibit. And it was AWESOME!!! I felt bad that Charlie was missing it because he's a nerd like me and would have loved it. Oh well, now I have an excuse to go back.

 The disturbing sculpture in the entryway. Ape vs. Man. Ape wins.

 We're not so different after all.

If you are a two-bodied piglet you can spoon yourself!

 The gang's all here.

 The only thing cooler than an armadillo is a giant one.

After the museum I took the Hutchinsons to the Champs-des-Elysées so that Emily could do some souvenir shopping. I didn't tell them beforehand and chose for us to arrive at the metro stop right next to the Arc de Triomphe.

 Surprise!

The crapola feeling was kicking in at this point so we headed home for a rest before dinner. For our evening feast I chose (wisely) for us to go to the Lebanese restaurant Beyrouth Vins et Mets. As soon as we walked in we were greeted at our table by the owner's toddler, whose name was also Tony, who came over and began to dance for us. It was pretty cute. Throughout the meal the owner was gracious and friendly and even gave us a free dish just so we could try it out. We will be back!

 Mixed emotions

Elena and Tony

Cha and Em

A groovy light and some sparkling water

Nom nom nom

Step 1 - Consume falafel.

Step 2 - Be happy!

Dessert: Mini Baklava, fruit and rice pudding

After dinner we were too full and tired to attempt to eat birthday cake so we called it a night and left the cake for breakfast. Even though he had been sick all day, Charlie went to the trouble of making a pithivier for my birthday. It's made with puff pastry and filled with almond cream and is effing delicious. 

Despite my nutritious piece of cake for breakfast, I was not feeling up for an outing, so Charlie assumed the responsibility of tour guide and took his family to one of his favorite places in Paris: E. Dehillerin, the kitchen supply store. Along the way they also attempted to go to Musée d'Orsay but were dissuaded by the ridiculously long line. However, they did make it to one of my favorite churches, Église Saint-Eustache.

The following day, despite my ever-worsening health and Charlie's barely-recovered state, we dragged our asses out of bed before dawn to visit the Louvre, home of my doppelgänger, the Mona Lisa. Despite arriving 45 minutes before opening, we were still behind about 100 people in line. By the time the doors opened there were probably 1000 waiting to get in.

 Sleepy head

 Part of the French obsession with all things Egyptian

 Palace + reflecting pools

 Zzzzzzzzz

The Louvre is designed to accommodate a billion people at once, so even though we arrived early the thousands standing in line with us got in not long after we did. The result was an instantly overwhelming experience, not only because there were so many people, but also because the place is huge and completely packed with pieces of art. It's hard for any of it to make much of an impression because it all starts to blend together.

We did our best to enjoy it, but it was hard to be around that many annoying tourists in our fragile states of health. At one point, a woman who I am pretty sure spoke Chinese (because her tour group did) fell behind her group and actually pushed me out of her way in order to run and catch up with them. Sensing that a foreign language was required to deal adequately with this situation, I accidentally defaulted to Spanish and audibly called her a "puta". She did not react, obviously.

And now for some art:

 Cha examines some medieval iconography.

 I bet they don't teach this dish at Le Cordon Bleu.

A jewel in the very small "indigenous art" section

We had planned to tour the museum for 3 hours but only made it half of the time. Our bodies could not deal with the walking, noise and crowds. I did manage to glimpse the Mona Lisa from afar and found her to be meh. The closest you can even get to the painting is about 12 feet and then there are several inches of bullet proof glass guarding her. There was also a large camera wielding crowd flipping out in front of her and I wasn't in the mood to deal with it. Anyway, it's hard for me to appreciate art at that distance. I might as well just look at pictures of it in a book.

Charlie and I called it a day and went home for a giant nap. But before we left I took a picture of the number of people standing in line for tickets inside. Apparently this was nothing compared to what it became shortly after we left. Also, outside the building the line to get into the ticketing area now extended around the perimeter of the very large plaza.

Oh, hell no.

If I ever go back there, I plan to make my visit look something like this:

Running Through the Louvre from Marie Garcia on Vimeo.

Once we had napped, we headed out for a fancy dinner courtesy of Tony and Elena. The place we chose was recommended by one of Charlie's classmates but, as we later found out, there are two restaurants with the same name and we went to the wrong one. Interestingly, it was a kosher restaurant.

Classy

Some kind of miniature spring roll

Fried chicken spring rolls. The sauce was great.

The chicken tasted freezer burnt.

Carpaccio (that's raw beef, for those of you not in the know)

Foie gras platter

Le GIANT steak

Rack of lamb

Toward the end of the meal, as the quality of the service deteriorated rapidly, we began to question whether or not this was the right restaurant. I couldn't complain too much. My giant steak was scrumptious and the dessert of strawberries and champagne sabayon were well worth the wait.

Au revoir for now.