Versailles

Bon jour, mes amies.
One of the things I come to Europe for is to walk.  But alas I am not getting any younger, and this morning I could barely get out of bed, I was so stiff.  But movement does help and the stiffness did mostly pass.  I'd slept well--probably much better than I would have at home.  My apartment here is darker, quieter, and much cooler!  The forecast looked reasonable.  Ok.  Time to get out of town to a famed garden.
Getting to Versailles is easy, and it is a Very Popular destination.  I took the metro down to where I could connect to the RER, which is Paris's suburban railway and bought I return ticket.  The ride out was boring, but the chateau as the Palace of Versailles is called is about a five minute walk from the station.  Now I have my museum pass, and I knew there was a special line for those of us with tickets.
Yep.  There was and it was Really Long.  I think the deal is that saps without tickets stand in line to buy them and then join this Line Stretching Into Infinity to actually enter.  It look me nearly an hour to get in.  The chateau was PACKED.  Fortunately I'd been here twice before, so I wasn't anticipating a wonderful experience of discovery.  Also most fortunately, I do not suffer from claustrophobia, but if you do--I'd give the palace a miss or come in winter or when it's raining or something.  One problem is that people with their phones, cameras, and ipads felt obliged to take photographs of everything they saw.  Seriously.  Everything.  Whether or not it had significance.
So we shuffled along.
Versailles is magnificent!  Our pal Louis XIV was the original rock star with a gift for charisma and a taste, at least in his youth, for constantly being the center of attention.  He designed Versailles as his showcase, and anyone who was anyone in France in the late seventeenth century just had to orbit Louis's sun.  How much gilt and marble do you want?  Frescoed ceilings? Grand furniture? Versailles will surpass your expectations.
But those are the public, state apartments.  Lesser folk lived lesserly.  Even dukes and princes of the blood put up with small, cold rooms and limited servants in order to bask in Louis's presence. Versailles grand as it undoubtedly is and was also very uncomfortable.  Historians speculate that Louis never enjoyed hot food at his state dinners.
I'd gone through the chateau because I had the museum pass, and I also thought that it was the only way into the gardens, which was my real target.  I mean I like Paris and all, but all the buildings and busy streets wear on me, and I want green and open space.  The museum pass does not cover admission to the gardens, so I had to pay extra, but also the grounds have been reorganized and the Grande and Petite Trianons and Marie Antoinette's play farm or Hameau are no longer part of Versailles, although they are covered by the museum card.  Now had I known this, I would have bagged the chateau and concentrated on what I really wanted to see.
Because if you Have to Live at Versailles, the impulse is to get away at least if one is royalty.  Even Louis XIV got sick of constant attention and created retreats.  In the late eighteenth century the concept of and desire for privacy and less ceremony led Marie Antoinette to retreat to her two Trianons and Hameau.  Given a choice between Versailles and Le Petite Trianon, I would not hesitate for a second.  Sign me up for Trianon, a Rococo gem with a delightful garden.
One issue was the Big Modern Art installation in the main gardens near the Fountain of Apollo.  The artist is well known, but I did not find the piles of dirt and torpedo looking thing appropriate for the setting.  Or the gigantic reflective satellite dish thingy that interrupted the view of the chateau's garden facade.  Why do sponsors think such things in historical sites is a good idea?
When I emerged in the mid afternoon I was horrified to find the crowd and line even longer than it had been when I arrived.  I was also so thirsty despite having packed water and a snack that I had to buy some water at the train station.  The trip back was smooth.
For my petite dejuener I had croissant and butter.  Dinner was some spinach tortellini dressed with olive oil and garlic.  The white wine I got was boring and tasteless despite the AOC.  By the way, my grocery store carries wine for under two euro.  I do not have the nerve to try it.
You disappoint us, Pil.
But at Versailles I encountered a branch of the famed Laduree.  They do pastries and tea in town elegantly like our friends at Angelina, but the current Parisian fad is macarons.  This is NOT the same as American macaroons. Instead it is two delicate shells of almond cookie flavored and sandwiched with ganache.  They are both expensive and fragile.  I got six of various flavors and beautifully packaged for about nine euros.  Shall we have a bite?
Please! 
The almond cookie is soft and disintegrates into creamy texture as one bites.  Bite gently then.  I chose a cookie flavored supposedly with Earl Grey, i.e. bergamot. It is delicious, but I cannot taste any bergamot.  Still.  Delightful.  Shall I have another?
Don't let us stop you!
Raspberry.  The ganache is much more jammy.  I like these.  This is a Paris fad, and you can find macarons of varying quality in nearly every bakery and candy store.  The other big pastry fad is eclairs.  I don't happen to like them.  This may be a good thing because I have passed the stores specializing in them.  You can get an exquisite and very tiny eclair for nine euros.  Bon appetite
A demain