Ethan Allen Park - Burlington, VT 05408

  I went to Ethan Allen Park today for a little hike and picture taking. I realize this park is just over a mile from my house and can't truly be called "TRAVELLING" for me, but lots and lots of people come to Burlington for its awesomeness and sometimes they want to get out of downtown and into some wilderness without venturing too far depending on their schedules. Ethan Allen Park is a good choice - among many. So for other peoples travels I'm adding my notes of the day to my travel blog. I recorded thoughts as I went along. The following is a transcript of that recording. It's weird, but inventive, I think.

     

     Oh, before I get started....could you please, please leave me a comment? Anything - tell me how great I am or how much I suck...something...I want to know I'm not wasting my awesome skills here. Thanks much.

The intro board to let you know where you are and how great the place is.

The play ground area. There's a nice garbage can and there are even doggy poop bags in case you forgot yours at home.

Straight ahead is a bbq stand. Just past it is one that's been knocked down. I pay enough taxes that I'm sure there is someone on the payroll scheduled to fix it by spring. See that snow. That's about it for Burlington this winter. Yay (don't tell anyone I said that).

The path runs up against some neighborhoods so it's obvious we should show some respect and not venture into back yards, but someone must have been ass enough to warrant the signs.

     “Ok February, shit..14, 15, 16…19^th, February 19^th, Sunday around noon at Ethan Allen Park. I’m hiking a little bit. I, um, just came from the tower, it’s still locked so I couldn’t go in but took some pictures. 

 Just north of Burlington Bay looking over toward New York.

  Just north of Burlington Bay looking over toward New York.

 Inside Ethan Allen Tower.

  Inside Ethan Allen Tower.

Looking up to Ethan Allen Tower.

     Note to self: I need some hiking boots with some tread because it’s a little muddy. I haven’t fallen yet, but, yeah, it’ll happen. Just walking. I’m gonna try to get to the gazebo that Quintyn showed me the last time I was up here before I have my roast beef sandwich and chips. It’s nice today. There’s no snow on the ground. A little wet, probably from the last snow or the last rain. Who knows when that happened, but, um, it’s nice. It’s a little chilly but I don’t have my mittens on; I didn’t grab my scarf; I just have a light hoodie. It’s all good.

     Ah, the mud is from melting snow. Cuz the elevation is a little higher here. Ooh, squirrels! Anyway, let’s see if I can get a picture. 

 Just up from the center of the picture is the squirrel. Really.

Top of picture, just to the right of center. That little guy posed for me. So nice.

     The good thing about squirrels, I was on a trail, off the paved trail, I didn’t know where it was gonna go, but it looked liked it was gonna go to the other side onto another paved trail that meets; there’s two paved trails and they kind of start either side of the park and they meet up so I was off trail but I was headed back toward that or toward that second paved trail and SQUIRRELS, you know, I ended up on another off trail which is kinda cool. It goes right between those two paved ones and, um, the end of it meets where those two paved ones go together so it’s cool. The squirrels are the same color as the damn trees so it’s hard to get pictures where the squirrels are gonna show but I tried. I took a couple. We’ll see what happens. Now back on the paved trail let’s see if I can find another non-paved. They’re so much more fun.

     Remind me to put the brush slash mirror thing in my bag for hiking, yeah, well thanks to contacts I’m pulling buggers out of my eyes. I just realized I didn’t have a mirror with me, but I need to keep the brush and mirror set in here anyway for a mirror, you know in case I get lost. K, thanks.

     It’s really nice today. There were a lot of people down at the park with their kids and their dogs, but, um, even on that trail I could see the, um, paved roads and no people on this trail trying to get up the Pinnacle or, you know, walking so, I don’t know, maybe they’re just thinking about a nice day but not venturing any further in case it gets chilly. Seems like the higher I go, though, a little bit more chilly, maybe I should’ve brought that scarf. But that’s ok. It’s nice. A good day.

     I almost fell down the hill trying to get a picture of a birch tree. The picture better come out. My left butt hurts now. 

 Birch tree with things growing on it. Pretty.

That's the birch tree left of center (love that song!). Anyway, that's the tree and the sloping hill.

     There’s a nice little trail just after where I almost fell down the, down the hill, thinking I’ll go up there, see if there’s a good picture, but really the trees just got more dense coming higher, so not good picture, but the Pinnacle, the Gazebo, are right here so I got a good picture of the Gazebo through the woods. It’s nice. Oh, a person and their dog, nice.  I’m staying off trail. Well, off paved trail. I’m on a dirt trail.

 We're there! We're there!

 Looking north toward New York.

 The Gazebo. You'd thing it was the end of March, beginning of April with the brown grass and lack of snow.

Steps to the Gazebo. A nice place to rest.

     Trying to get a picture of myself in the Gazebo but my cheeks are all red and rosy from the cool walk. Took a good picture, though.  Finally, using the timer thing. I don’t know why I didn’t do it in Paris. Well, I know why. Too many people around; I thought I’d look like an idiot. So, I need to, like, get over that.  Um,  yeah, I’m gonna have my lunch now and try to get my cheeks to warm up and take a little bit of a non-rosy picture, but, um, yeah, the rosy wasn’t too bad of a picture. I’ll use it if it’s the only one that comes out well. Okey dokey. Havin’ lunch.

 Yours truly, at the Gazebo.

Interior Gazebo shot. I was trying to not get the graffiti in the shot. Crap. The whole place has been tagged and it sucks...maybe they'll clean it up for spring...we can hope.

     My camera doesn't like the cold so I put it under my armpit to warm it, forgot it was there, dropped it, now the lens is fucked up. Um, hope I don’t have to get another one, but I’m gonna want one before the Van Halen concert so I guess I’ll see what happens. Um, try to take it in and get somebody to look at it or something. Anyway. So I left the Gazebo. A couple people had come up. A couple so I was letting them have the Gazebo alone. I’m off trail again. I’m not sure if I’m gonna end up at the river or back at the parking lot. Huh. Time will tell.

 Picnic table, bench and lots of space for a little touch football or Frisbee throwing.

It almost looks like a parking lot, but cars don't come up here. Maybe once upon a time ago they could? Anyway, another picnic table and lots of space to park the baby strollers and your bike.

     To verify, I’m on a dirt trail. I’m just not on the paved trail. I don’t go off trail too much so when I’m saying off trail I mean still on a dirt trail but not the paved one. K. Oh, listening to Adele too. (music is in the background of the recording). K, bye.

     I've come to a paved trail. This was parallel with it, so I’m gonna kind of back track and go on the paved cuz the paved is definitely gonna go back to the parking lot so I will go back north. Oh, now I’m off trail, but I’m headed toward the paved trail. I’ll go north. See what happens.

     The cool thing about walking today, the people I have passed on this paved trail, look at them, you smile, you say ‘hi’, they’re all saying ‘hi’ back. Sometimes in the summer, people are out here with the kids or their bikes like they HAVE to be, or, I don’t know, they’re not just hanging out, relaxing and pleasure; they’re assholes. Today’s awesome all the way around; except for my camera, but, you know, whatever.

     The paved path turned to a dirt path up behind a neighborhood and then from there forked left or right. I think a right probably would have taken me around the neighborhood a little bit more, maybe brought me back up to Ethan Allen, but could have brought me over to Ethan Allen Homestead. There’s one path that does that. You know it takes the bridge over, but I took a left, ended up on a little bit smaller of a dirt path. Now I just climbed up the hill, turned left thinking it might take me back to the park one way or the other but realized I’m right at the, um, that spot where I tried to take a picture of that birch tree and almost fell down the hill, so if I’d fallen down the hill I’d of been bruised and battered, but I would have fallen down onto a path so that would have been cool. Anyway, turned back around, headed back toward the, um, parking lot but, you know who knows whatever path I might find out there.

     I figured it out…the path I would have headed toward, before the squirrels caught me off guard was that path a little bit down the hill. One big maze of paths. It’s great”.

     That's it...my great day at the park. Oh yeah, special shout out to the dad with the son and dog…yeah, I was checking you out. That beard and your daddyness were yummy.

     Folks, the next time you're looking for a place to relax go on over to Ethan Allen Park, sit on the swings, take a walk, people watch and say 'hi' to me if you happen to see me. I'll give you my famous smile and say 'hi' right back atcha.

    PS: sorry about the UM's. I truly didn't know I UM so much.

Five Guys Burgers and Fries - Invitation Only Opening 1/8/12

     I'm writing in red because for the next forever I'll be seeing red and white checks all over the place. ..and that's ok.


     By special invitation only (or just by walking in, if you were so lucky) I had a free dinner at the newest Five Guys restaurant this evening. My son Quintyn is a grill cook there and he had two menus/invitations to give away to a lucky friend or mommy. I am the lucky mommy. Yay me.


     I'd never heard of Five Guys before seeing the sign and construction crews a few doors down from where I get my hair cut, but people at the office were very excited to hear the news of the new restaurant coming in. Apparently they're big in Florida and I was told the fries are to die for.


     They've completely renovated half the space Blockbuster had used and have made themselves quite comfortable in their set up to deliver some fairly decent food. The red and white makes a person forget the awesome blue and yellow of Blockbuster and the free peanuts and music while you wait for the food to be freshly cooked make a person really not mind the wait.


    The best part about being invited to a mock opening is that the food is free....FREE - although they did have a tip jar that was fairly full at the end of the hour. And a great thing about this free food is that it was good....GOOD, GREAT...ABUNDANT...I had a cheese dog and regular fries. I'd heard the portions for fries were large so I had the smaller one and it was still a lot for me. (when fries are a lot for fattymcfatty me, you know it's a lot - I LOVE FRIES).

I dumped the fries in the bag for easier dunking and the hot dog was split down the middle. I love that!


     The main thing you have to know is that all the ingredients are fresh. There's not a freezer holding fake patties or stringed out french fries. They cut the potatoes, pat out the burgers and cut up the fixin's onsite. Your burger doesn't start grilling until the cashier has hollered the order back to the cook. It ain't McDonalds but it's almost like home - you know, if your home wasn't my home because I tended to buy the frozen stuff. So glad someone is teaching my kid how to cook for real.

 Quintyn came out to talk to me for a few minutes. I told him he needs to smile. He said "Like this"? and I took a picture. No, not like that.

 Quintyn helping me eat my fries.

 I sat in the way back so I could get some good pictures of the whole place.

     Pricing includes freshness, toppings, awesome attitude and probably a little sharing. So, if you get the craving for a honking burger and some tasty fries head over to Five Guys. They'll fix you up good.

Five Guys

Burgers and Fries

580 Shelburne Rd

S Burlington, VT

802-862-7575

www.fiveguys.com

My invitation/menu. The official menus don't have the "relax & unwind" stamps in the top right hand corner.

    OH! and Oh My Gosh! Second to the fries as the best part:

Pibb. I love Pibb and other than Longhorn in Williston I haven't seen it anywhere else around here.

**this is not a paid endorsement or pathetic shout out to the management to keep my kid working. the fries got me wired and I needed to blog out the extra energy**

Paris - Day 10 / Home again, home again

     Why? Why didn't I package up all the stuff I bought in Paris and send it to myself instead of stuffing it in my backpack and carrying it to the airport? I didn't do it because I have this thing about instant gratification. If I want it I want it now and I will make it happen now or as soon as possible. I knew I would absolutely go bonkers waiting for that package to reach my post office box and I would have had a disappointment on  a daily basis until it got here. 


     I dragged the pack to the elevator and convinced myself that it would be ok to be lazy and give in to getting a cab to the airport even though the cost for the cab would have been almost as much as the metro ticket I had purchased for a 5 day use which included use to the zone the airport is in. I was going to waste that metro ticket all because I decided not to take time to go to the post office.


     The thing is, it was 6 o'clock in the morning. Breakfast isn't served until 7am at the hotel and no one was around that early. I couldn't bring myself to call for a cab because the language barrier is bad enough in person. I didn't want to call and have the person on the other end not get to me in time. So, after making as much noise as I possibly could to try and get someone to come to the office I draped my carry on across the front of me then heaved the pack onto my back and walked down to the metro. Instead of going to metro Abbesses which is slightly uphill from the hotel I went to metro Blanche and had a really nice walk downhill. Hmm, I started thinking it wasn't going to be too bad.


     At the metro, again, there was no one around, and I easily fit through the turnstile and found my way to the first train. That early in the morning I found I could have two seats to myself - one for my butt and another for leaning back with the pack still on. Two transfers later I was at the airport and feeling very glad I'd not taken a cab. 


     Knowing I'd never be able to lift the backpack into an overhead bin and about to have a broken back by the time I reached the ticket counter I checked the backpack and crossed fingers none of my newly acquired guidebooks would come up missing. Thankfully all the happened was that when Customs had rifled through the bags they weren't kind about making sure the books fit back in the bag and the zipper split open. Luckily I was able to fix it and as long as I don't over stuff I can continue to use that bag.


     At security I buzzed going through the scanner. No one was taking their shoes off so I hadn't taken mine off and they have some metal on them.  Instead of letting me take them off and go back through I got to get felt up...by a girl - no fun! It wasn't too bad, it didn't feel invasive at all, just annoying - especially when she cupped my boobs and lifted....yeah, yeah, I'm a saggy old woman, I get it.


     At Newark I had to claim my backpack then bring it back to be checked for the connecting flight. I guess that helps keep things from getting lost but that also meant I had to carry the darn thing a couple of miles. I have this thing where my face gets really red when I have any kind of exertion. If you don't know me you might think that I'm about to fall over dead with a heart attack or something when I look like that. I always feel fine and not nearly as ready for death as I might look but it puts everyone around me on alert to catch me if I fall and to be ready for CPR. I finally got to the baggage area and the guy was really sweet in taking the bag and not making me carry it from the entry to the conveyor belt. As I'd been walking up to that part I'd observed him being a major dick to other people and making them go the extra forty feet or so. I really must have been beet red for him to have stepped up to help.


    At Customs when asked what I was doing in France, am I terrorist, etc., I got into a bit of a sparring match with the Customs guy. I mentioned the great weather in Paris and he said too bad I had to come home to a snow storm and I said there isn't a storm and he said there is and I said there couldn't be because my son had told me there was no snow yet and it was dawning on me that I ought not to be arguing with the guy holding my passport when he handed it back to me, waived me on and said he now feels bad for the son who hadn't yet told me about the storm. In Quintyn's defense he did send a text to my e-mail address but I wasn't able to access the internet at that airport.


     No problems with the flight to Newark, but the flight out of there was delayed an hour due to the plane coming in being delayed. At one point a Continental Rep got on the intercom and said the flight was overbooked and could they have a volunteer give up their seat. They would get a $600 credit for a future flight and a seat on the next flight out. At first I thought "that could be my ticket to California next year", then I thought, "screw it. I'm tired. I'm going home".


     At home Quintyn and our friend David picked me up. Quintyn carried my pack with no hint of heaviness and I came home to a clean house exactly as I'd left it. I slept hard through the night and have spent all day today doing nothing but catching up on the news, blogging, emailing, facebooking, putting stuff away, doing laundry, planning a party for friends from high school/Upward Bound and being so glad to not go anywhere. It's been a great day of rest. I am thankful for having been able to spend my Thanksgiving doing nada. 


     Tomorrow I will go downtown to people watch, do some light shopping and take in a movie or two.  Thanks to all who followed my trip to Paris.


PS: no gremlins on the wing, but it was pretty on the trip from Newark with the sun setting....the picture was loading on it's side so here's the video. Shut the sound off. It's loud.

Paris - Day 9

     Paris is simply a maze of streets - most cobble-stoned and amazingly beautiful but the frustrating thing is that there isn't really any uniformity to numbering or even where the name of street changes from one name to another. I'm used to even numbered buildings being on one side with the odd numbered buildings being on the other side and when a straight street suddenly changes names it should happen at the town line or at an obvious intersection with another street - not half way through a block just because. It may make sense to Parisians but I was dizzy from it all.


     Maison de Victor Hugo is at 6 place des Vosges. I followed the signs from the metro and was led down an alley that ended at a park and split off to the right and left. With the park in front of me the space created a square. I saw the sign and was clearly was on place des Vosges. To the left of me I saw the door was labeled "1" so I turned left expecting I would go the half block, turn right, cross the street and find the even numbered doors. But it's not that easy - or difficult, depending on how literal a person you are. I'm extremely literal and that can be a bad thing sometimes. 


     Crossing the street brings you to another street. Well, what the hell? I remembered that some streets I'd come across had both the even and odd numbers on the same side when a park or other non-habited space was across from it so I turned back around and double checked numbers thinking I had missed seeing the even numbered doors. Back at the entrance to the alley I stood confused and probably looking pretty stupid when I saw ahead of me (or too the RIGHT of where I had first stood) a bunch of people coming out of a door at the far corner. Duh. Walking that way I saw the even numbed doors on this side. The place just doesn't make any sense to me.


     Victor Hugo Museum - I don't think I've read anything by Mr. Hugo, but he's a writer and I love all writers. Honestly though, his being a writer wasn't why I chose to tour the apartment - 1 of many he lived in while in Paris. I wanted to see the architecture of the building and the furniture. As with most museums trying to recreate the homes of their subjects, not all the possessions in the apartment actually belonged to the Hugos, but many did. One piece that gave me a sense of bringing it all together was a bust of Hugo done by Rodin. That fascinated me because of my tour of the Rodin space.


     One thing I really liked here was that some of Mr. Hugo's books were shown and it really inspired me to want to have several books written by me and able to be shown when I'm dead and famous. Although I think I wouldn't want someone to put a museum together about me because they just wouldn't do it correctly. I'd hate for them to have some piece of god-awful furniture or stupid photo and tell people that it was my favorite thing in the world because I may have commented on it once or been too kind to it's creator to tell them it was shit. No, don't let anyone make a museum for me unless it's one of my kids and they get all the money. 

     Musee de Carnavalet - This museum of the history of Paris is in 2 adjoined townhouses. There were no pictures allowed in the museum but there was one guy who blatantly snapped photos non stop so when it came to seeing a piece that I fell in love with I couldn't help but take a picture...then I saw another piece and took another picture, but though I'm the poster child for rebellion I 1. didn't want to get in trouble for taking pictures and 2. appreciate the reason for a museum asking for the respect of their rules even though, in my humble opinion, the lighting this particular museum had for display is worse for the pieces than any photography could be.


     Also, a person can walk away from something with a thousand pictures but not with the sense they actually experienced something. Unless it's a sunset or moving something or other I take a moment to study it, decide if I like it or not then take a picture. I studied both these pieces until I was drooling. Sad, so sad they sit wasted and never to be used again. When Armageddon happens I won't be looting banks or even grocery stores...no, wait....when it happens I will loot a bank, then a grocery store then I will settle myself in a museum and use the furniture and give it it's life back as the rest of the world is falling apart. When all has calmed down and the world is reborn I will be the Queen with all the good furniture.

     The last place to check out on this trip was the Musee de Monmartre. It's housed in a building where many artists lived and worked together - a regular commune. The museum holds many pieces by Toulouse-Lautrec and showcases the Bohemian lifestyle that came from that section of town in the late 1800's to early 1900's....belle epoque. The tour starts in the basement then works its way up three flights. It's a cute, cute place. I love the narrow buildings but the stairs killed me. I got to keep my umbrella with me this time and thank goodness because it makes for a wonderful cane when my knees pretend to be 75 years old.


     It was here, through the audio guide, I finally understood the whole chat noir thing. It also explained the black cat upon entering the gift shop. If I could go back in time I would go back to the late 1800's and be an expatriate writer in France and hang out with all the great artists of the day at Moulin Rouge.

     
     Off to bed. A plane awaits along with a backpack that is much too heavy for me to want to deal with. 

Paris - Day 8

     My day started with a trip to a cemetery.  I went to see if I could find a fellow by the name of Jim Morrison. Both my son Ben and my friend Kim said that they wanted me to go see this guy. This being the trip of doing the cliche I said of course I would go pay a visit to the music icon. Any reason to visit a cemetery is a good one for me. I'll tell ya, though, the more cemeteries I visit, the more comfortable I feel in having made the decision to be cremated and thrown. For the record I want most of me to be thrown off Prospect Rock in Johnson, some thrown at camp and a little bit put on my dad's grave in LA.


     Time, weather and assholes are not kind to cemeteries. I'd rather just be floating with the wind than having my grave desecrated by vandals, birds, floods, tree roots, etc.


     At the Cimetiere du Pere Lachaise the office has maps detailing plots of famous people. There are two maps - one for literary figures and another for musical figures. The lanes in the cemetery are just as jumbled as the streets in Paris so good luck getting where you're headed without getting off track at least once. There was a lady out front stopping people and insisting that she is the guide and you can't go in without paying her to be the guide. I think she's a real guide but she's a schister too and I told her I was a guide as well and I didn't need her services. It wasn't a complete lie. I guided myself.


     I found Mr. Morrison and the only other one I wanted to see - Gertrude Stein. I was in there over an hour. Cemeteries are very peaceful places and I took a few minutes to sit down and finally write out my postcards. Here are some pictures from JM's plot:

     Do you remember buying 45's and listening to the A-side over and over again? Did you ever accidentally play the B-side and wonder what the eff? I'm the kind of person who bought the 45 and listened to the B-side on purpose hoping for some kind of the same as the A-side but different, edgy. Going into the Dali Museum is the kind of thing that makes a person say "what the eff". This place has about 300 of Dali's B-side works but I really thought the whole thing was fascinating. This guy was right on the edge of every line of being. I wish I had discovered him earlier in life.

     For dinner I went to the Moulin Rouge. It's a 3 course meal and for this chick who pretty much calls Denny's home I was way out of my comfort zone, but I muddled through and survived - used all the wrong utensils and totally didn't see the potatoes under the fish - but I survived. I had a half bottle of champagne all to myself, too. I could only get through a glass and a half before I knew it was time to stop so I offered the rest of my bottle to a couple at my table they were lushes and happy to take the rest of the bottle off my hands.


     The show was fantastic. Two hours full of singing, dancing and costumes. There was so much going on the whole time. Magnificent, truly magnificent. It's a spectacular spectacle to quote the movie. No pictures allowed so you only get an exterior shot from the Starbucks across the street. PS: the best caramel machiato I've ever had I had this afternoon at this Starbucks.

Paris - Day 7

     I was the only one at breakfast this morning. The little room they have here at  the hotel has several tables and each morning you can find most of the spaces set for breakfast with a chunk of bread, croissant, yogurt, coffee mug, juice glass and fixings for the bread and coffee. If I have a big breakfast I feel bogged down so this is a nice quick meal to get me going. It's weird though because the chick who takes the payment also comes over to fill the juice glass then fills the coffee mug and adds the milk. It's too much personal waiting on me for me to be comfortable with but I sit back and let her do her thing then I tip her 1 euro and she acts surprised every time. I think she's genuinely surprised but I can't help it. I'm a former waitress. I will always tip and mostly over tip. I know tips are generally added in but the whole thing is only 3 euros and when I get a tall coffee and croissant at Starbucks it's 6 euros. 


     I know it's expensive over here but I've tricked myself into thinking of costs as being in dollars and Vermont is expensive too so it all seems even in my head. It also helps that I'm actually staying within my budget. My goal is to not use the credit card at all and I really think I'll be able to meet the goal. Though there was a necklace today that I really, really want. It's 90 euros and I almost got it but my gosh darn efficient brain said, "You know you will buy a book and post cards too and you're already tired, so buy the stuff later so you don't have to carry it all day".


     Darn it, that had me breaking one of my golden rules regarding do it now because you may not pass this way again and sure enough even though I did pass that way again I was carrying my dinner and then was half way back across the estate before I remembered I wanted to go get that necklace. The next two shops didn't have it so I'm going to be on a mission to find it or something similar the next two days. 


     This was my dinner so you can probably understand my distraction. There's a baked potato hiding under that gravy, peas, carrots and beef.

This was the scenery at dinner.


     An Auntie commented on my Facebook page that I must be getting tired here on my trip...um, yes. That's about the only way I could possibly have thought yesterday's blog made any sense. I just phoned that one in. My apologies. I woke up this morning refreshed and ready to go but only had one place to go see. Fortunately the kings and queens of France were abundant in their flaunting of wealth and I had a vast amount of space to cover in my day at one place. I walked pretty much most of the time from 9am to 6pm today so I'm back to being ready for another long nap.


     The train ride out to Versailles was just under an hour and I was able to take some pictures of graffiti for the kid. I don't think any of it is any good but he may think one or two pieces are ok.   I don't condone graffiti. I think it's bad, but the kid is enamored with it and was interested in the possibility I might get some photos for him so I'm obliging. I haven't seen it much within Paris except for the metro tunnels. 


     I was worried about finding the Chateau of Versailles but had read that it's fairly easy to get to. One blog I read advised following the crowd after getting off the train. I did that as well as listen to the guy holding the door open. He said, "Cross the street, go right then left then voila"! It worked.


     As I was walking I thought to myself how Versailles is actually it's own city and the Chateau is only a part of the city. I started thinking that instead of saying you're going to Versailles you really ought to say you're going to the Chateau of Versailles if that's the only place you're going while in Versailles. It's like people saying they're going to Burlington and really all they do is go to Church Street. Or they go to the U-Mall and that's in SOUTH Burlington. So, to make up for my faux pas I made a point of stopping in some shops on my way back to the train...no necklace there either, dammit.


     The grounds at the Chateau are immense. They just go on and on. Back in the day the whole thing was open to the public. The peasants could just stroll around and do what they wanted. If they wanted an audience with the king or others in the house they probably did some kind of favor or paid a donation or something. They still can wander the grounds and getting into the building is more spelled out in that you need to purchase a ticket. 


     The picture below as quoted from the visitor's guide I purchased: "The Fountain of Latona tells the story taken from Ovid's Metamorphoses, an ancient masterpiece providing numerous themes to the decor of Versailles. An episode from Apollo's childhood is depicted here. His mother, Latona, having been ridiculed by the Lycian peasants, beseeches Jupiter for vengeance, who then turns them to frogs". Moral of the story? Don't piss a mom off.

 There's gold in them thar walls.

 I love fireplaces, marble and anything that allows me to sit.

 All of the ceilings on the first floor have some kind of over the top decoration. The rooms have chandeliers and high doors and ceilings. I will no longer complain about my heating bill.

 Marie Antoinette gave birth in this room and there were dozens and dozens of witnesses. Ew.

 The king and queen would sit in the royal chairs, their children and grand children would sit on the stools at the table and the audience would sit away from the table and admire how the royalty ate their food.

Ok, I really want some kind of decoration like this around the light in my bedroom. I'm going to seriously look into a different fixture and maybe have Quintyn paint something around it. I love this stuff!


     When the Chateau became too much for the king he would retreat further into the country to a little place called Grand Trianon. It's about a 30 minute walk from the Chateau so I can't imagine how he thought it was further in the country except that you can't see it from the Chateau. Not to be left out the queen got to have Petit Trianon. I'll take either of them as a year round home. I need to store all these visitor guides somewhere.

Grand Trianon is way smaller than the Chateau - only two wings.

 After all the red rooms, dark green rooms and gold, gold, gold, this yellow room was a nice sunny change.

Apparently I was very excited about the yellow room.


     Petit Trianon is smaller but still as lavish as the rest of it all. 

 No wings and only three stories. Poor, poor queen had it so rough in the country home.

Marble, stone, gold....staircases deserve decorating too!


     It'll be a light day tomorrow. Most stuff is closed on Mondays. Maybe I'll have time to finally write up some postcards.