The train pulled into a small station in the suburbs of
Paris – Versailles, the erstwhile seat of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette. The
streets were adorned with festive flag garlands. The wind was freezing cold! A
tree-lined avenue let to the vast courtyard teeming with cars! So much for the
early start of the day…
The outer gates of the palace lead into a smaller courtyard,
where a long queue snaked into what looked like a temporary structure (Versailles
seems to be the Tirupati of the West). A Kuoni group from India rushed in
behind me. Their guide had already purchased tickets. When he asked for money,
they started bargaining. One of the aunties was scanning the queue ahead for “desi”s.
She wanted to befriend them so that they could move ahead in the queue at their
expense.
An hour later we were inside the tent-like structure for the
security check. I realized then that it was not a ticket counter. I had to
purchase tickets and then stand in the queue. Probably seeing my sullen face,
the lady at the security counter gave me a priority card and asked me to return
to her after buying tickets. Twenty minutes later (thanks to another queue), I was
back at the security check gate. Two Bulgarian ladies unsuccessfully tried to
jump in with me. Next time don’t blame the Indians!
Inside the massive golden gates lies a smaller marble courtyard.
It advertises free WiFi. Somehow it eluded my phone.
It took three hours to see the palace alone. Behind the
palace are the immaculate beautiful gardens of Versaille (“Don’t go to the
gardens! It is a waste of time. You can see it from the palace” – the guide had
told the Indian group). The palace has too many highlights. But what made my
day was the girl posing in front of Marie Antoinette’s bed. She wanted a photo
in a sleeping pose!
Musical fountains were advertised everywhere and indeed the
music was playing. But none of the fountains were switched on!
Extreme pain of the sprained leg forced me back to the
apartment for a short rest. There I remembered Ravi’s words: “If you want to
see what the French do fir leisure, visit the nearby canal side”. True to his words,
the place was brimming with people – picnickers, people playing marbles,
jugglers, acrobats…and even a marching band! The canal cuts through the city
until it joins the Seine near Bastille. I walked alongside, between the revelers.
As the sun started its descend, there was a last item in my
agenda –the Pont Alexandre III, one of the most beautiful bridges on the Seine.
The white bridge spans the river from the Quay d’Orsay to the Royal Palace. The
restaurants along the riverside were doing big business. People had also set up
their picnic baskets alongside the Seine. Feeling hungry, I did something I had
avoided until then. At the foot of the Eiffel Tower, I entered one of those
numerous roadside cafes.
Dinner was mighty expensive!
Are people really gullible or are they plain stupid? All
along the road from the Eiffel to Pont Bir Hakeim, gamblers had set up their
wares. People were playing for 50 euros and 100 euros and losing money.
The only souvenirs for me from Paris were the metro tickets
and a bottle of water.
No comments:
Post a Comment