Listen to me Don’t go chasing waterfalls Please stick to the rivers and the lakes that you’re used to —Waterfalls, lyrics by Prince
My friends and I didn’t listen to Prince. Last month, we found new rivers, and best of all, new waterfalls while staying in a cabin near Brule, Wisconsin.
Lost Creek Falls
The first was Lost Creek Falls. The trailhead for the falls is near the town of Cornucopia. From there, it’s a fairly easy 1-1/2- mile hike to the falls and a small picnic area. The falls feature an eight-foot plunge with a few feet of cascades above and below it.
You can get close to the falls by walking through Lost Creek, which was shallow when we were there (we were able to rock hop across). A tree has recently fallen in front of the falls, so if you want good photos, you need to get past this visual barrier.
Behind Lost Creek Falls
Town of Bell Cemetery
My friends and I enjoyed walking behind the falls, which is not common for waterfalls around Lake Superior. The spray refreshed us, and we were heartened to see how many families were out on the trail, showing this natural wonder to their children.
When we returned to our car, we took time to explore the small Town of Bell Cemetery across the road. It’s home to 23 graves from 1902-1915. They feature simple wooden crosses, and many are for infants.
Next was Siskiwit Falls, which is also near Cornucopia. A short walk from the parking lot brings you to this series of gentle ledges. The falls are known as a good “butt slide” area, but we did not partake in that particular activity.
Siskiwit Falls
On another day, we visited Mays Ledges. I guess they aren’t technically a waterfall, more like a series of cascades, but they were part of our trip, so I’m including them!
Mays Ledges
The ledges are in a nature reserve on the Brule River. The walk to them isn’t very long. It’s downhill with a series of stairs on the way there, which means uphill on the way back. Some of the ledges feature interesting circular holes, which I assume were formed when rocks were trapped in softer stone and whirled around during high water. This time, we took a dip. Beware of poison ivy along the trail.
The Brule River, which is famous for trout fishing and past visits by U.S. presidents, empties into Lake Superior. We meandered over to that site and spent an afternoon soaking up sunshine and Vitamin D on the sand spit.
My friends at the mouth of the Brule River
One waterfall we noticed a sign for but didn’t get to was Twin Falls near Port Wing. One of my friends went there later and said it was worth a visit.
Exploring these waterfalls and ledges reminded me how much beauty is tucked away in Northern Wisconsin. Each site offered its own unique charm, from tranquil cascades to lively sprays and quiet moments of reflection. If you’re ever in that area don’t forget to chase the promise of discovery that lies beyond the familiar.
Although it may sound like a Finnish battle cry, the title of this post actually refers to a small town in northern Wisconsin (population 560). The town was named by Finnish immigrants after the fifth-largest city in Finland.
I meandered to Oulu late last month during a trip with some friends. The attraction that drew us was the Oulu Glass Gallery Studio. It’s run by Jim and Sue Vojacek, glass artists who are influenced by Lake Superior and the Bois Brule River, which runs nearby.
The teapot garden
Their studio looks something like a geodesic mushroom. In winter, visitors can watch the glass-blowing process. In summer, you can tour the teapot garden, planted in memory of Sue’s mother, who collected the teapots. In all seasons, you can purchase unique glass art.
An example of Oulu glass art, a fish.
As we entered the studio, we were greeted by one of several calico cats that roam the property. Sue emerged from a back room and chatted with us as we perused the glass art. I ended up choosing a paperweight inspired by a Lake Superior wave and a small blue-and-yellow glass vase complete with a glass flower. Sue said that she and her husband made the vase and flower separately, but they went together so well, they made a match. I loved hearing the stories behind the art!
As we left, we toured the colorful teapot garden and met another one of the cats.
If you’re ever on Highway 2 going across northern Wisconsin, turn off at the Oulu Rock, and you’re in for a treat!
The locally famous Oulu Rock. Image courtesy of the Oulu Cultural Center.
I’ve been too busy meandering around to visit other blogs or post on my own lately. As I process all that I’ve learned and keep meandering for another few weeks, here’s a “filler” post about food. On the label of this product (which shall remain nameless) note the “natural flavor with other natural flavor” description.
Russ and I found it funny. What do you think that could mean? Is one flavor more natural than another, or does the product contain doubly natural flavors? It’s a mystery wrapped in an enigma.
The final full day of our Road Scholar trip took us from Bayeux to the town of Honfleur, which is where the Seine empties into the sea. It’s known for its all-wooden churches (no nails!), picturesque streets, and harbor.
As we walked the streets in the morning light, I could easily see why painters like Eugene Boudin and Monet were drawn here. The ancient buildings ooze with character, and the harbor provides wonderful reflections of the ships.
A harbor scene — one of my favorites!
We visited one of the wooden churches, Sint-Catharina Kerk, and spent some time inside. Joan of Arc was also memorialized here with a statue.
Sint-Catharina Kerk(on the left)
After our walk, we visited the Musee Eugene Boudin, which is housed in a 19th-century chapel with two modern extensions, offering views over Honfleur and the Seine. Boudin was the town’s most famous painter. Besides Boudin’s works, the museum houses other impressionists such as Monet and Jongkind.
On our way to the restaurant where we would share a farewell lunch with the group, we passed some cool statues – have you ever seen the partial statues that provide optical illusions? There was a series of those.
We also passed two men who sported fedoras and smoked hand-rolled cigarettes. They were setting up their hurdy-gurdy as a tourist attraction.
Near them on a harbor wall was a plaque that memorialized Samuel de Champlain. As a Great Lakes person, I took note! Lake Champlain in Vermont is named after him, and the plaque commemorated his departure point in Honfleur and his role in establishing “New France” in Quebec, Canada. Honfleur’s location on the Seine made it a key port for launching French voyages into the St. Lawrence and beyond.
The city also seemed home to many cats, who provided me with some photo opportunities.
A chimney cat
A window cat.
Another window cat!
I would have loved to have spent more time here, but alas, the time for our departure was nearing. At our farewell lunch, our group exchanged contact information, and we said our goodbyes. We met a lot of nice people in our group and plan to keep in touch with a few.
We were very happy with our experience and would definitely consider booking another Road Scholar trip in the future, especially if it’s in a country where we don’t know the language and would be hesitant to drive.
A handsome Honfleur pigeon
Not that Road Scholar had anything to do with this, but the weather during our tour was divine: sunshine and no rain. The first rain came in the evening after we had returned to Paris, where our group would catch flights home the next day.
One thing to know if you travel to France is that there’s a lack of public restrooms, especially in Paris. You either need to go into a cafe and buy something so you can use their facilities, or just saunter in and act like you belong there and use them. Even our tour bus didn’t have a bathroom!
I feel like perhaps it was a mistake that we left France. Immediately afterward, the country experienced heat waves that left at least 40 people dead, wildfires that devastated communities in the southwest part of the country, and France’s first incidence of Ebola. Would things have been different if we had stayed? I guess I’ll never know. 😊 But I feel for the country and hope the many trials end soon.
Reflecting on this journey, I am grateful for the unforgettable experiences, the friendships made, the chance to glimpse the country of my ancestors, and the beauty discovered each day. Though France faced great challenges after our departure, the memories and connections from our trip will remain with us.
As this chapter closes, I look forward to future travels and new adventures, carrying with me the spirit of discovery and appreciation that this journey inspired.
Some macrons that we bought at the airport. Two are mysteriously missing.
On this day, we traveled from our base in Bayeux to Mont St. Michel. This tiny tidal island, an UNESCO World Heritage Site, is home to the majestic St. Michel Monastery. As we drove through the Normandy countryside, I was struck by how it reminded me of the rich, pastoral borderlands of Scotland.
Due to the volume of tourists, everyone must take a crowded shuttle across the causeway to the island. Quaint shops and tiny inns line the narrow cobblestone streets that lead up to the monastery. Then come the steps. Our guide said there were 350 of them! A few of our group members with mobility issues stopped at this point, and I did not blame them.
Saint Michel shines atop the monastery.
Thankfully, Russ and I were able to continue. Under the watchful eye of a statue of St. Michel (which is reproduced in gold atop the monastery), we were given tablet computers and a headset for our tour.
St. Michel is considered a warrior angel, leading heavenly armies in the battle against Satan and his forces. Now, he is also considered the patron saint of police officers, paramedics, and the military.
The view of the tidal flats from the top of the monastery.
Legend has it that the archangel Michael appeared to Bishop Aubert of Avranches in 708 A.D.in a dream and instructed him to build a sanctuary on the rocky islet that would become Mont Saint Michel. The angel told him, “If you build it, they will come.”
Sound familiar? I was flabbergasted to learn this because it’s the same instrumental phrase used in the baseball movie (and book), Field of Dreams. The author plagiarized from history! I mean, I guess that’s okay, but I was surprised that it wasn’t an original phrase in the movie, and I’d never heard anyone make the connection to Mont St. Michel. But now you know!
Aubert initially ignored the dream to build a sanctuary, and, after a second angelic reminder was also ignored, this angered St. Michel, who burned a hole in Aubert’s skill with a finger of light. That made Aubert pay attention! He quickly erected a small chapel on the site, which served as a pilgrimage shrine. Because the island is accessible only at low tide, it was both a place of worship and a natural fortress against Viking raids.
The Great Wheel of the Abbey
During the French Revolution, the monastery was a prison. One interesting sight connected with that is a huge wooden wheel called The Great Wheel of the Abbey. Six prisoners (nicknamed squirrels) would walk inside it like a hamster wheel and power a crane that would be loaded with food, water, and other provisions for the monastery.
The Scriptoriumceiling
I also enjoyed seeing the scriptorium, which is the room where monks copied manuscripts. There’s also a cloister that was built in the 13th century. The cloister is trapezoidal and consists of a garden and a covered gallery that runs around it. The garden is separated by an original colonnade, composed of 137 columns arranged in staggered rows and forming tripods, which support the vault and the roof of the cloister gallery.
The elements that make up the cloister were made with materials from the region, such as Caen stone, but also from more distant lands, such as Purbeck marble. The cloister allowed the monks to find themselves in a suspended space conducive to meditation, and thus to be closer to God, through the presence of its garden open to the sky. But what I really wanted to know was how they got all the soil up there to make the garden in the cloister courtyard!
Mont St. Michel
Like in Versailles, armed guards were in evidence, although this time, instead of only being at the entrance, they walked among the crowds, giving us all the evil eye as if to say, “Don’t try any funny stuff!”
The walk down the monastery hill was much easier than the walk up. Along the way, we saw some seagull parents trying to protect their chick from passing tourists. The chick had wandered near the walkway, much to the parents’ distress. Although some passersby took photos of the chick, most stayed a respectful distance away. (I did not take a photo.)
A house at the bottom of the hill on Mont St. Michel
We caught a shuttle back to our bus and then returned to Bayeux. Dinner was on our own. We’d worked up an appetite. I had a scrumptious Mediterranean pizza (with anchovies, black olives, tomatoes and mozzarella) at Le Florentin restaurant, with cream puffs and ice cream for dessert.
The next day would be our last full day in France.
The next day of our Road Scholar trip took us from our base in Bayeux on a bus ride to the beaches of Normandy. The beaches used to be a vacation area, but due to WWII, are forever known as places of conflict and, ultimately, victory for the Allies.
Our first stop was a bluff above Omaha Beach. This is where most of the casualties occurred, earning it the nickname of bloody beach. We viewed the remnants of an artificial harbor known as Mulberry A. Our local guide explained that the floating breakwaters, pontoons, and piers for the harbor were secretly built over six months in England and then towed across the English Channel. The components were put into place to protect Allied supply ships from storms and enemy fire while allowing them to dock and unload cargo close to the shore.
Part of the artificial harbor offshore at Omaha Beach.
Mulberry A was built soon after the June 6, 1944, D-Day landings. However, a violent storm on June 19–22, 1944, damaged the four-mile-long harbor severely, forcing the Allied forces to rely on open-beach landings on Omaha Beach for the rest of the campaign. Another artificial harbor was built at Gold Beach (Mulberry B), and it lasted longer.
There really wasn’t that much left of the harbor – just thin broken lines of concrete offshore. Although the view may have been unimpressive, the thought of all the effort and planning that went into constructing them was impactful.
The American Cemetery was our next stop. More than 9,000 soldiers are buried on immaculate grounds. We walked the grounds and visited another bluff that overlooks Omaha Beach. As we gazed at the now-peaceful scene, it was hard to imagine the violence that occurred on D-Day.
Our group then gathered around the “Spirit of American Youth” statue for a ceremony. One of our tour members, David, did the honors of laying a bouquet of flowers at the base of the statue. David is a U.S. Army veteran. During WWII, his father was stationed in Scotland in the Navy. He was part of a highly classified small team of men who worked on a top-secret project that involved developing reconnaissance film used in preparation for D-Day. David said he was thrilled and humbled to be part of the ceremony and to celebrate his father’s contribution.
David at the American D-Day Cemetery ceremony.
I don’t have any direct connection to D-Day, but as the bugle call of Taps played, even I teared up by the end. David’s wife Robin videoed the ceremony (except for the Taps part). You can watch it on YouTube. (Link provided with permission.)
One thing to note if you visit, is that no eating is allowed in the cemetery. Somehow, I missed that memo. I took out a granola bar because I was getting hangry. One of the cemetery staff members saw me, got a horrified look on her face, and indicated in French that I should put my granola bar away.
A view of Omaha Beach from the bluff.
Omaha Beach was next on our agenda. We were able to walk the sands. I took off my shoes and felt the cool ocean while our guide explained that the beach has five ravines that allow access past the bluffs to the interior. These were the focus of the troops on D-Day. The bluffs above the beach and the ravines were full of machine gun and mortar nests.
Imagine being an inexperienced soldier dropped onto a beach under enemy fire and having to climb the bluffs. More than 4,000 soldiers were killed and wounded on D-Day, many of whom drowned after being hit. Any beachy enjoyment I felt faded as our guide described the happenings of that fateful day.
A rock formation at Pointe du Hoc.
Next, we visited Pointe du Hoc, which features a German “pillbox” observation bunker that we could go inside. These concrete guard houses made of reinforced concrete were home to several soldiers. The narrow openings (loopholes) toward the sea allowed the soldiers to fire on the enemy. The path to the pillbox was pocked by several deep craters where bombs impacted.
The view from inside the German observation bunker.
After all the heaviness, I guess it was time for a drink! Our next stop was Chateau d’Englesqueville to sample Normandy’s renowned calvados apple brandy and regional cheeses. But first, owner Bernard Lebrec showed us his farm’s monument, which honors American soldiers who fought in Normandy during WWII. It’s thought to be the first erected in France.
The 14th century tower at Chateau d’Englesqueville.
Bernard (with cider stains on his shirt) explained that Germans took over the farm at first, but after D-Day, Americans (the 147th Combat Battalion) used the farm as their headquarters and built an airfield across the way. The house (chateau) was built in the 17th Century, and the farm buildings still sport a tower from the 14th Century.
Bernard tells us about calvados while his daughter Marie watches.
The charming Bernard then invited us inside for a tasting. His daughter Marie helped (an easy name for me to remember), along with their two English cream retrievers. The calvados was 84 proof – really strong! It tasted like French moonshine to me. I preferred the aperitif, which was milder, and bought a small bottle to bring home. We also bought some of their apple jellies: plain, vanilla, and cinnamon. By now, the aperitif is long gone, but we’re still working on the jellies.
Besides calvados, Normandy is known for flax, dairy, lace, wheat, artichokes, apples, pears, and seafood. It’s like the Wisconsin of France.
The chateau also offers a restaurant run by Bernard’s nephew. Restaurant L’Ephemere was closed when we visited, but looked like a nice place. Travel author Rick Steves says, it’s a “laid-back, all outdoors, tres French, well-run café-restaurant serving delicious meals, salads, or just drinks with a smile.”
Cathedral of Our Lady of Bayeux
Our bus took us back to Bayeux, where we had time to meander around the town. We walked to the Cathedral of Our Lady of Bayeux, which was consecrated on July 14, 1077, in the presence of William the Conqueror, making it a site of great historical importance. It is believed that the famous Bayeux Tapestry, which depicts the Norman Conquest of England, was originally housed in the cathedral. The tapestry was later moved to a nearby museum. We couldn’t see it, however, because the museum is undergoing renovations and the tapestry has been temporarily relocated to England.
Russ by the Bayeux Liberty Tree, which was planted in 1797.
Behind the cathedral stands a HUGE “Liberty Tree.” These trees were planted across France after the Revolution to celebrate the end of the monarchy. The scale and age of the Plane Tree (species) was difficult to comprehend. (See the photo above with a teeny tiny Russ beside the tree.)
The town is known for its creperies. The most popular one (Le Moulin de la Galette) was booked solid during our stay, so we could not eat there. But we walked past it, and it was hopping! The restaurant is housed in a charming former oil and flour mill along the Aure River that has been transformed. An outdoor terrace allows guests to savor their meals while enjoying picturesque views of the river and historic buildings in Old Bayeux.
We kept following the river on a paved trail that led to a boardwalk across a wetland. The boardwalk offered a great view of the cathedral, and I took a few photos.
The Bayeux cathedral as seen from the river boardwalk.
Our Plan B for a crepe dinner was Au Louis d’Or. On the sidewalk, we dined all frescos for dinner on galettes (savory crepes made from buckwheat) with crepes for dessert. With camembert cheese, apples, and sausage, my galette was pure Normandy. My dessert crepe was filled with chestnut cream. Both were outstanding, and the price was very reasonable.
My Normandy galette
Whew! And so, Day 4 of 6 of our tour came to a close. We really enjoyed being in a smaller French town after the crowds of Paris. I would love to revisit Bayeux someday, perhaps once the tapestry returns. I’m not much for following military history, but I gained a greater appreciation for the machinations of WWII and the sacrifices of the soldiers after seeing the D-Day beaches and cemetery.
Next Up: Mont St. Michel and another great dinner in Bayeux
The business ends of two sea lampreys. Image courtesy of the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration.
I interrupt my France travelog (again) for a breaking news story. Thanks to this very blog, I was interviewed by the Canadian Broadcast Corp. about That Time I Organized a Sea Lamprey Taste Test | Marie’s Meanderings post, which I wrote in 2020. I later reworked the post for a blog I used to manage for work and that’s where the CBC reporter saw the story. (It’s also included in my Meander North book.)
Her 9-minute feature about how the invasive and ugly sea lamprey are a sought-after food in Europe aired last week. You can listen to it here: Amy Hadley: Sea Lamprey Cuisine | Superior Morning | On Demand | CBC Listen. I loved the light tone she took and that she was able to speak with sea lamprey cooks and Fishery Commission staff.
It just goes to show, you never know where blogging will take you sometimes!
I fell asleep with a head full of grandiose images of Versailles. In the morning those images faded, and I awoke with a mission: to find and eat a genuine Parisian chocolate croissant. Before our trip, many people asked what I was looking forward to most in France. I didn’t answer with a standard reply like the Eiffel Tower or Versailles. For me, it was eating a chocolate croissant. Yes, that’s all it takes to make me happy.
A picture of a picture on a sign that describes a crookie.
You see, in the U.S., I can’t eat anything made with wheat (or corn). From past travels, I know I have good luck eating wheat in Russia and the U.K. Today was the day I put France (and my digestive system) to the test.
A bakery was just around the corner from our hotel, so I hotfooted it over there and made my purchase. I was almost sidetracked by a new type of croissant called a “crookie” that’s all the rage, but I stuck with classic chocolate. (A crookie is a combo croissant and chocolate chip cookie.)
I was not disappointed! The croissant was so crunchy, buttery, and rich with chocolate. If I had to die in Paris now, I could die happy.
My breakfast chocolate croissant
I’m also happy to say that my digestive system suffered no ill effects from the wheat, so I was free to eat like a normal person for the rest of the trip! I’ve read articles about the phenomenon of U.S. tourists in Europe who can eat wheat when they can’t at home. It may be because the wheat used in Europe contains less gluten than U.S. wheat. It could also be because fewer pesticides are used on the crop in Europe.
The Arc de Triomphe as seen through a moving bus window
Powered by croissant fuel, I rejoined Russ and the tour group for a bus ride to our next stop, which was the town of Giverny – site of Monet’s home and gardens. On our way out of Paris, we passed the impressive Arc de Triomphe.
Giverny was more rural than I expected, such a charming village. A long line of tourists were waiting to enter. We had to walk through them to get to the group entrance beyond. I made it through the gauntlet, but others farther back in our group line weren’t so lucky. They said an angry German woman stuck out her arm and wouldn’t let them pass. She must have thought they were cutting the line. Somehow, they convinced her to let them pass. They rejoined our group, shaken by the rudeness, and in a bit of disbelief.
Monet’s pond
But hopefully, the peace of Monet’s gardens and ponds soothed them. In addition to being an artist, Monet was quite the botanist and civil engineer. To create his ponds, he diverted the flow of a small creek. The ponds are the site of his famous waterlily paintings, which he created in his later years when his eyes were clouded by cataracts.
Another shot ofMonet’s pond
Like in Versailles, taking a photo without a ton of people in it was challenging, but I managed a few. Russ and I sat on a bench for a while to soak up the feel of the place. That was also a challenge with a parade of people walking past, but we were partly successful.
Monet’s home
Then the path took us into his gardens, and next, to Monet’s pink and green house. I was surprised by all the paintings in the home, but I guess I shouldn’t have been. They were mainly by other artists who were Monet’s friends, but some were by Monet. I was also surprised by all the Japanese prints on the walls. Our guide said that Monet never went to Japan but considered the prints an investment. The home’s kitchen and dining room were quite picturesque.
Monet’s dining room
Then we were back on the bus, traveling to Rouen, which is known for its cathedral, half-timbered houses, and as the place where Joan of Arc was burned at the stake.
The spot where Joan of Arc was burned bears a stone plaque and is near a large church built with a fish architectural theme (the roof looks like fish scales, etc.) We ate lunch not far from there, and then our group walked to the impressive Romanesque/Gothic-style cathedral, which Monet painted in a famous series to capture how light played on the outside.
Looking up at the Notre Dame Rouen
The inside of the Notre Dame Rouen cathedral was more interesting to me than the outside because it contained the tomb of Rollo, the First Duke of Normandy, and his son, William Longsword. If you’ve been following this blog for a while, you may recall the post about my visit to Maine and the history of my Herring ancestors.
Rollo’s tomb
Rollo was a Viking raider who was given the land in Normandy by the French king so that he would cease his raider ways. Family lore says my ancestor was commander of Rollo’s Navy and was given the title of Viscount. In research I’ve done, I’ve learned that Rollo usually only gave titles like that to relatives (nepotism at its best!), so there’s a good chance we’re related to him.
I made a beeline for his tomb, which carries an inscription that translates to, “He toiled so hard that he died.” In life, Rollo had another nickname: The Walker. Legend has it he was too tall and massive for a horse to carry, so he had to walk everywhere. While historians have debated whether this was an exaggeration, the nickname became part of his enduring legend, emphasizing his imposing stature and intimidating presence on the battlefield. Rollo’s tomb was large but certainly didn’t seem massive.
Walking back to our bus, we saw many properties with bullet holes remaining from WWII activities in Rouen. This included the local police station. The French are sensitive to accusations that they didn’t fight back against the German invasion, but this proves that in Rouen, they did.
A peaceful scene in Bayeux
Another bus ride took us to the town of Bayeux, which was to be our base for the next few days. After supper, we had free time. Russ and I were able to meander around. We found a city park with a fountain in the middle that depicts the local woman who married Rollo. Her name was Poppa.
Poppa’s fountain in Bayeux. She was Rollo’s wife.
Reflecting on the day, I’m struck by how each experience—from the simple pleasure of a perfect croissant to the awe of Monet’s gardens and the storied streets of Rouen—wove together into a delightful tapestry. These moments, both grand and small, capture the magic of travel: unexpected connections, new tastes, and a deeper sense of history coming alive. France continued to surprise me at every turn, and I was looking forward to what tomorrow would bring.
Next up: The D-Day Beaches of Normandy, Apple Brandy, and Bayeux
I interrupt my France travelog to wish America a happy semiquincentennial! If you want to make the celebratory feeling last, there’s a book you should read: Bicentennial Eve: A Wisconsin Novella by Julie Jacob. I had a chance to read the book before it was published and to provide this promotional blurb for it:
Step into the heart of 1976 Wisconsin, where the spirit of America’s Bicentennial pulses through every page. In Bicentennial Eve, Julie Jacob delivers an evocative, unforgettable portrait of a family on the brink of change. A young girl aches for her first kiss, a college student is caught between adventure abroad and love at home, and a devoted husband is left wondering what his wife truly desires. Brimming with nostalgia, longing, and the quiet hope of new beginnings, this gentle novel invites you to relive the magic and heartbreak of a pivotal moment in history. Perfect for fans of rich family dramas and coming-of-age tales, Bicentennial Eve will leave you reflecting on the ties that bind and the dreams that set us free.
–MARIE ZHUIKOV, author of The Path of Totality
I haven’t had time to reread the book since it’s been published, but my friend Vickie Smith has. Please see her review on her “Writing by the Lake” blog.
The Orangery parterre at Versailles. It’s like an outdoor greenhouse.
On a bright, warm morning, we boarded a chartered bus to the Palace of Versailles during our Road Scholar tour. We were met there by our local guide, Aurora, and armed guards. I’m not sure whether there are always armed guards at the Versailles entrance, but it might have had something to do with a U.S. president visiting the palace a few days later.
In the 1600s, Versailles was a hunting lodge for the royal family until Louie the 14th decided to turn it into a palace with gardens and fountains. Three generations of royalty lived there until the French Revolution in 1789. Louie the 14th fancied himself a “Sun King”—the center of the kingdom and universe. As such, images of the sun decorated the palace gates and many other parts of the palace.
The impressive gates at Versailles.
The Sun King didn’t want any shade in the front courtyard, so tourists lining up for tickets are forced to bake while they wait to enter. We had group tickets, which involved a shorter line, but we still got a good feel for the heat of the former king’s symbol. The gilded main gate and fences around the courtyard were impressive.
We toured the gardens first. The fountains weren’t on while we were there, but they were still impressive, along with the grand canal. Due to time constraints, we couldn’t see any of the side gardens, which was disappointing.
The Latona Fountain, which features frogs and lizards, and the Grand Canal.
Many years ago, I toured the Russian Summer Palace, Peterhof, outside St. Petersburg. The design was inspired by Versailles. We spent many hours in the gardens and palace there. The French won’t like me saying this: although Versailles is impressive, I think the Russians went a step above. Peterhof was truly spectacular.
The ceiling of the Hercules Room.
Once inside the palace, we toured the Hercules Drawing Room. With its marble walls and ornately painted ceiling, this is where parties were held. Next was the Royal Chapel where Louis the 16th married Marie Antoinette. Following that, we went to the King’s Apartments, where we saw the king’s bed. Between the king’s and queen’s apartments is the famous Hall of Mirrors. I’ve watched movies about Marie Antoinette, and the 250-foot hall is as impressive in real life as it is on screen. The Queen’s Apartments hold a bust of Marie Antoinette, and her bed. Our tour ended outside in the Royal Courtyard, which also lacks trees.
The Hall of Mirrors
The chance to see Versailles was a highlight of our tour, but so many other tourists jostling us and fighting for good photos marred the experience. You’ll notice that many of my photos in this post are of the upper parts of rooms. That’s because the lower levels are filled to capacity with throngs of tourists (like myself!) The French government is trying to preserve key tourist sites by introducing quotas, but it seems like more restrictive ones are needed at Versailles.
A sphinx and cupid sculpture, Versailles
We parted with guide Aurora and our bus took us back to Paris, where we visited the Museum d’Orsay. The huge building used to be a railway station but now houses collections of paintings, sculptures, and decorative objects. The works cover 1848-1914 and include artists such as Renoir, Van Gogh, and Monet.
Luncheon of the Boating Party painting by Renoir. I also saw it in Minneapolis years ago. Felt like I was meeting an old friend!
The museum was also crowded, but not quite as much as Versailles. I found that people-watching was almost as captivating as the artwork. Instagrammers dressed to the nines vied for the best selfies next to famous paintings or sculptures. One woman couldn’t get the selfie she wanted and stood in front of Van Gogh’s self-portrait, making ugly faces to show her displeasure.
Dinner was on our own. Russ and I made a reservation at a restaurant a short walk away, which was one of Ernest Hemingway’s hangouts. Brasserie Lipp is a Paris institution that offers traditional French cuisine. Our waiter told us they haven’t changed how they operate since the 1920s.
Brasserie Lipp, Hemingway hangout
If you go, though, please note that proper attire is required. We missed that info when we made our reservation. Once we arrived, we were met by a sign that said men cannot wear shorts into the restaurant. Guess what Russ was wearing? We pled our case to a waiter. Russ must have looked respectable enough because they let him in. 😊
I ordered a St. Germain spritz, smoked (Scottish) salmon and blinis. (Blinis are like small crepes.) For dessert, we split a rhum baba, which is a rum-soaked cake. It was all very good! Our waiter was excellent, resupplying my blinis before I could even ask, and seeming to read my mind in general. I’ve never had that experience at a restaurant before. (I felt like I was in an episode of The Bear!)
As we ate, I could imagine Hemingway and his friends looking at the same tiles on the walls and enjoying the wonderful food. In his 1964 memoir A Moveable Feast, Hemingway fondly recalled visiting the brasserie, where he would order a cold liter of beer and warm potato salad, immersing himself in the lively atmosphere of the Left Bank.
After supper, we braved the subway by ourselves and made it back to our hotel with no problems. I was very proud of us!
Marie's Meanderings 