Watch your step

A fun thing about living in Bloomsbury is that even the sidewalk isn’t boring. It’s splattered with famous faces.

Apparently they’re were part of a welcome event for the nearby University College London. In case, walking around is a lot more interesting you’re worried about stepping on Darwin, Ghandi or Charles Dickens.

Image: Londonist

For the Da Vinci Coders

Before we started our tour of the Louvre I engaged in a little photo shot. I couldn't resist. Enjoy.

Look how strong I am

Walk Along the River

After walking to Notre Dame, Nicole and I strolled along the islands located in the Seine, Île de la Cité and Île Saint Louis. These islands are two of three islands in Paris. They are naturally occurring, as opposed to the other, Île des Cygnes, artificially made and home to the Statue of Liberty. Aside from being a natural wonder, these two islands are home to the Notre Dame de Paris, the Palais de Justice and as well as other notable attractions. They are also a keen assault on tourists to make sure those who have not already fallen in love with Paris do so immediately. I say this because it was at this point that I feel in love with Paris.


The weather that weekend was rather dreary and the day we went to Notre Dame was no exception. It had rained quite extensively. We stepped out of Notre Dame and began walking along the River Seine and all of a sudden, the sun came out. The sun peaked out from the clouds, started shining and soon rays were bouncing off the river and windows of the lovely buildings along the river and I found myself in a painting.

Île de la Cité, with Notre Dame on the right

Gorgeous buildings

Adding to the scene are the small stalls, called riverside bouquiniste.

"The first Seine-side salesmen appeared in the 19th century on quai Voltaire and sold many of the same items you still see sold today. In 1993, President Jacques Chirac created legal standards for the wooden stands. Today, around 250 vendors—bouquinistes—can be found in the city of light. Peppered along the right bank, on Pont Marie, at Quai du Louvre, the left bank, at Quai de la Tournelle, and the original quai Voltaire, they carry cheapo souvenirs in abundance.” [EuroCheapo]

Nicole at a bouquiniste

They may be cheap souvenirs, but I find them quite charming. On display is everything from vintage magazines and newspapers, as well as old maps of Paris, art reproductions, and French books. And in case you're wondering, it's all very highly regulated.

"Each bouquiniste is given four boxes, all of a specified size, and rent is paid only for the stone on which the boxes rest (less than €100 per year). The most coveted spots are awarded based on seniority. Maintenance costs, including the required vert wagon paint (the green color of old train cars), are paid by the bouquinistes. With little overhead, prices are usually cheaper than in most shops. And yes, they do leave everything inside when they lock up at night; metal bars and padlocks keep things safe." [Rick Steves' Europe]

They may seem like a small thing, but they really add to the character of the area. And it’s not just the riverside vendors. The whole island has a beautiful, laid back, small village feel to it. We crossed into Ile Saint Louis for ice cream. The ice cream—I got praline—was exquisite as was the island.

The back end of Notre Dame.
The road is the entry to the other island, Île Saint Louis.

Street on Île Saint Louis

The River Seine from Île Saint Louis

My yummy praline ice cream

Leaping Off the Page

You know what’s fun? Visiting places you’ve only read about in books. When I was in Grade 11, I read the Hunchback of Notre Dame in my French class. It was a dumbed-down version of the French classic by Victor Hugo, obviously, but I enjoyed it. I had seen the animated Disney animated version when I was 10, but it was much more moving in literary form.

As I read it, I imagined what the beautiful cathedral looked like: the gargoyles, the bells, the angry priests within. Then I went to Paris and I saw what it actually looked like. Turns out I was wrong. It looks nothing like what I thought it does. The Notre Dame de Paris cathedral is located on Île de la Cité, an island in the middle of the River Seine in Paris. Standing in front of it, the cathedral looks quite small.


But it’s much larger from the inside. Nicole and I went in and ended up staying for mass. Then we wondered around and it’s actually quite large. It’s even larger from the back.

Inside Notre Dame

Taken from the altar looking backward

Disappointingly, there’s no hunchback lurking around, ringing bells. I checked.

Managing Expectations: The Museum Edition

When I visited the Prado in Madrid, I had a plan. I went twice in order to scout the area and devise the best plan of attack. With the Louvre, I had no such opportunity. We just attacked it. Well, that’s not really true. Nicole and I decided before we arrived that it would be folly to try to hit each floor. So instead we picked one. Actually we picked two floors, but soon realized we only could do one. And we didn’t even do the entire floor.


First things first, the Louvre doesn’t just house beautiful works and paintings, it is beautiful. It’s a former palace and so it’s full of stunning ceiling paintings and wood work.

Inside the Louvre

Secondly, you ask most people and they’ll say the most famous works in the Louvre are the Mona Lisa and the Venus de Milo. Of course, because they are so famous, they’re also the most disappointing. If anyone reading this is excited to go to the Louvre to see these two works, starting ramping down your expectations now. I know I did. The Mona Lisa is especially lack lustre. It’s very small for one thing. And there is so much security around it that it takes the fun out of it.

Da Vinci's Mona Lisa and her security.
There are also guards on each side of her

The Venus

There is the cool factor: I’m standing in front of a really famous painting. Then there's the Venus which is slightly more interesting because it’s a statue and quite stunning. But there are more interesting things in the Louvre. There’s a section dedicated to the apartments of Napoleon III, which Nicole accurately summed up by saying, “Easy on the velvet.” There’s an area dedicated to Crown Jewels, and there are other, lesser known but much more interesting works of Da Vinci. So if you go, don't just see the famous stuff, take in the whole floor.

Napoleon's Apartments

Very famous painting of the French Revolution

Da Vinci's Madonna on the Rocks

A surprisingly nice museum is the Museé D’Orsay which exhibits mostly impressionist art from the 1860s to 1914ish. If at the Prado I was reasonably sure that I preferred impressionism, this is where I became sure of it. D’Orsay is full of Monet and Manet, Degas and Picasso, water lilies and dancers, really pretty paintings with vivid colours and scenery. If you like pretty things, you won't be disappointed here. I'd love to show you pictures from it, but my camera wasn't working that day.

Palacial

There are times when I’m strolling through palaces and castles and I look around at all the gold, silver, tapestries and millions of dollars in art and I think, “No wonder they hated you.” At the Palace of Versailles, I found myself saying this. A lot. Except, I said, “No wonder you people lost your head.”


Versailles is just outside of Paris located in a small town that I bet now is known only for the palace. It’s most famous for being the home of French King Louis XIV and his grandson Louis XVI and his wife Marie Antoinette.

One of the Louises.

Way more interesting for me was the Hall of Mirrors, which was used by Louis XV and XVI as family apartments and ballrooms. It’s pretty impressive.

"The principal feature of this famous hall is the seventeen mirror-clad arches that reflect the seventeen arcaded windows that overlook the gardens. Each arch contains twenty-one mirrors with a total complement of 357 used in the decoration of the galerie des glaces. The arches themselves are fixed between marble pilasters whose capitals depict the symbols of France" [Source]

But what makes the Hall even more spectacular is that it is the site of most beautiful piece of historical symmetry I've ever known. In 1871, it was the site of the proclamation of the German Empire after the Germans trounced the French in the Franco-Prussian War. Less than a century later, in 1919, that very same Hall was the site of the signing of the Treaty of Versailles, which decimated Germany, forcing it to pay millions in war reparations and crippling its military. The sense of history and ceremony in the room was so thick it was almost palpable.

The rest of the palace is pretty stellar too. There’s Marie Antoinette’s rooms and the rooms of her children. The private quarters ofLouis XIV, aka the Sun King, complete with wall to wall upholstery and priceless paintings. Then there are the fun things like their beds, their toys and the secret doors that they used to escape the mad mob calling for their heads. But after checking out the furnishings I can understand their anger.

The Chapel

A sample of the furnishings

Marie Antoinette

One of the 546 (or something like that) staircases

The gallery full of paintings paying homage to French victories
The American Revolution is there. The Plains of Abraham are not.

Then there's the gardens. Can you imagine mowing this lawn?

Take #1

The Golden Triangle

When I was debating whether or not to go to Madrid before I went to Portugal, I asked a co-worker who’d been there. “Depends what you like,” he said. “If you like museums and culture, then Madrid is beautiful.” Although not a stellar review I decided to go for it. I like museums and Madrid is known for its “Golden Triangle:” the Museo del Prado, the more modern Reina Sofía National Museum and Art Center and the Thyssen-Bornemisza Museum of Art, known for its collection of Egyptians paintings and artifacts.

I read about the Prado and knew that its collection was extensive. I decided to check it out my first day. I purposely went after 5pm because that’s when entry is free. It seems like a few other people had the same idea.

This first visit was intended as a scouting exhibition. I wanted to see what it was like, get the layout, see what kind of stuff was in the collection and develop a strategy. There’s nothing I hate more than microwaving a museum. What is microwaving a museum you ask? The term was introduced to me by my friend Cassandra. Microwaving a museum is doing it really fast and only really getting to see the famous stuff. Just like when you microwave food, all the backup flavour is gone, when you microwave a museum you see the famous stuff and breeze through the other perhaps more interesting things. There are some museums you have to microwave for time constraints (ie. the Louvre). I microwaved the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam, because we didn’t have enough time. But the Prado is known for so much beautiful art I wanted to take my time. I was in Madrid for four days, (minus one spent in Toledo) and on my own so I could take as much time as I wanted.


All in all I spent about 8 hours there. I spent two hours that first day perusing the first floor. Then I came back Tuesday (for free because I’m a European student), and spent another six hours seeing everything. Every floor, every painting, every sculpture. I even listened to the audio guide. I brought a snack in case I got hungry, which I did. Afterward I was so exhausted I sat in the gardens to rest my tired feet. But it was worth it. I saw not only the masterpiece’s but some unknown stuff that I liked. I developed an appreciation for Goya and highly recommend his Black paintings.

The next day, I checked out the Reina Sofia, the modern art museum. The Reina Sofia is known mostly for its Dali and Picassos. Those were all really interesting. Guernica is really moving once you know the context. Otherwise I feel you might thing it’s just odd—it is modern art after all. I may have experienced a bit of the prom effect because it was hyped so much. But there were other paintings that really resonated with me.

Dali’s Girl at a Window

Hermenegildo Camarasa’s “Retrato de Sonia Klamery."

Despite these favourites, I have to admit I microwaved this one a bit. After the first 8 or 9 rooms of Picassos and the Dalis, there’s just a lot of really modern art, as in squares of colour or coat hangers suspended on a wire. I walked by a ten foot shelf stacked with old books and asked myself how that was art. I can’t really handle things like that. I’m too much of a linear thinker. So I just walked past them, doing my best to assess the artistic quality in them for 2.5 seconds, then moved on.

Even the building is modern with a glass elevator and avant garde statues in the garden.

The Reina Sofia

View from the glass elevator

Statues in the garden

I didn't check out the Egyptian museum because a) I don't really care about Egyptian art, b) I didn't have time and c) I had to pay, which after free entrance into the Prado, I was not feeling.

The power of positive thinking?

I’ve wanted to write this post for a while. But given today’s results of the Irish referendum, it seems especially appropriate.

When we toured the Parliament last week, I was struck by this structure.

Called Confluences, it is a 36 meter high sculpture in stainless steel. Its parts hang from the ceiling but are not held together at any other point. Touch one part and the whole thing moves. Crafted by Belgian artist Olivier Strebelle, its name has various meanings:

–noun

1.	a flowing together of two or more streams, rivers, or the like: the confluence of the Missouri and Mississippi rivers.

2.	their place of junction: St. Louis is at the confluence of the Missouri and Mississippi rivers.

3.	a body of water formed by the flowing together of two or more streams, rivers, or the like.

4.	a coming together of people or things; concourse.

5.	a crowd or throng; assemblage.

On the tour, our speaker explained the symbolism of this statue was intentionally left ambiguous. Does the sculpture represent the joining of the 27 Member States to form the EU? Or does it represent Strasbourg, the other seat of the European Parliament and, as I mentioned earlier, the historical bone of contention between EU pioneers France and Germany? Is it a symbol that the EU faces; where touching one element/policy area/nation state/issue affects the whole? Does it represent governments at all? Does it represent Europeans coming together to celebrate their common history and geography as Europeans?

Throughout this whole trip, when certain officials have spoken of the EU they have called it the “EU project.” This process of integrating almost 400 million people, 27 nation states, 23 languages (so far) and 15 economies into one voice is an ongoing, evolutionary one. I find this concept and the acceptance of its premise by many within and without the EU, fascinating.

The EU’s motto is “United in diversity.” It sounds pretty and is a noble goal but how feasible is it? When we were at the German Bundesbunk school, one pupil mentioned the older generation’s apprehension to adopt the Euro. But she said the younger generations are more willing because they don’t have that sense of history invested in the German Mark, the Italian Lira or the French Franc. She said as the EU continues to bring prosperity to Europe, attitudes will change. Now, this seems to have hit the nail on the head.

In the absence of a common history, language, culture or any element that traditionally unites a people, shared affluence can be used to create a nation. This isn’t new for Canadians. That’s exactly what John A. MacDonald did to British North America in 1867. The hope is that in time this common culture will be fostered. Has this happened in Canada? If you ask me, no, it has not.

But can it happen in Europe? With the failure of the Constitutional Treaty—whose content is strikingly similar to the Lisbon Treaty save a few nationalist trappings like a common EU flag and national anthem— in 2006 and the failure of this first hurdle for the Lisbon Treaty, it doesn’t look good. It seems like nationalism—that sense that I am a member of this state and that means I’ll do whatever it takes to see it safe and posper –like we see in the United States and Russia, is proving to be the most enduring form of unity.

But it’s an interesting experiment. I, for one, will keep my eye on developments.