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Museum Hell / Delightful Musee Marmottan |
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The line naturally formed at the entrance to the Louvre,
with with tourists loitering, then lurching forward in groups. |
Click HERE
to read the tiny sign
posted at the Louvre entrance |
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Dave: We were so proud of ourselves as we entered the
courtyard and the famous glass pyramid. We stood here yesterday,
but postponed our visit to be fully rested and fed, full of energy
and ready to see the splendid treasures at the world's most famous
museum. We would be leaving Paris tomorrow, so this was to be the
only day for Paris to show herself to us in all of her splendor!
The line of tourists was already present at the pyramid and we fell
right in place behind them. We moved forward, seemingly in groups of
about 20. This wasn't a natural flow, like when people buy tickets
one at a time, but rather like when you load a roller coaster or boat
ride and seat people in groups, then wait a bit, then repeat. It
seemed very unnatural while we moved forward and made small talk.
Soon we were at the head of the line, with now a hundred other
tourists behind us. The people in front of us just dispersed, and I
was not even aware that they seemed to move off in groups in
different directions. We stood and chatted, waited for the door to
open to escort our next group in. But wait, the last group didn't go
in the door. We loitered there almost 10 full minutes, when others
behind us began to fuss about a tiny white sign with tiny small black
print. No guard, no docent, no representative from the museum or
tourist bureau or city government. Just a small white sign at a
slightly oblique angle to us. While I "kept our place" (at
the head of the line), Jesse finally walked about around to the front
of the sign, and his jaw dropped. In tiny print, with no other help,
was a tiny sign saying the Louvre would not open today, but would
"be open tomorrow". Just in time for us to be on our train
to Luxembourg! |
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Bastard French Frogs! We were standing here 24 hrs ago. Had there
been the least hint, we would have visited then. Instead we organized
our entire life, 30 out of the 96 total hours we spent in Paris,
around this visit to the Lourve, and there was no effort to assist
us. Not only that, but we had been standing here, WASTING OUR TIME,
for over 30 minutes and not one single solitary French Bastard had
the decency to point to the sign, apologize, etc. We were
simultaneously crestfallen and livid. I was additionally filled with
an urgent sense of vengeance, but Jesse prevented me for prying off a
piece of marble facade and flinging it through a pane on the glass
pyramids. Take that your inconsiderate, arrogant French Bastards!
Instead we sat down, and tried to think of plan "B". What
should we do. Jesse was overcome with stupidhood, playing with
gravel, telling jokes and riddles. I pointed out that as each minute
elapsed, another 30-50 people figured out the Louvre was closed and
headed for their second choice destination. He announced that he was
"done with Paris" and wanted to go back to the hotel at
10am. I eventually ushered him out the courtyard. |
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We cheered ourselves up by playing a bit, posing for "Phoons"
in front of the famous Louvre pyramid. |
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Dave: Logically, we would head across the Seine and
visit the Musee d'Orsay and its famous collection of Impressionist
paintings. The beautiful former train station was just a few blocks
away and easily in view from the Louvre archway entrance. We
excitedly approached the museum but slowed until we again stood
slack-jawed! We were not the first to find the Louvre closed this
Sunday morning, and not the first to make d'Orsay to be Plan
"B". The line to enter the building stood 3 and 4 abreast,
stretched all the way down the block, the entire length of the
building. As a process engineer, I started my watch and walked about
snapping pictures. After exactly 5 minutes I gauged the line movement
and extrapolated. It would be between 60 and 90 minutes of standing
on the sidewalk for the privilege of then walking about the cavernous
galleries. It would be lunchtime before we even arrived at the door
(just like yesterday!). We moseyed toward the end of the line, and
with 10 minutes now elapsed, I redid the calculation and the results
were the same, 60 to 90 minutes. Furthermore, the end of the line was
growing faster than the front was receding, and it began to stretch
across the crosswalk of a street. I could see confusion break out as
some people queued across the street, and others started at the near
corner. Rather than be played again as fools by these French
Bastards, I stepped back (at exactly 15 minutes) calculated again,
and it would now be over 90 minutes to enter, and getting longer by
the moment. We would see neither the Louvre or d'Orsay this day (nor
this trip), and vowed to vent our anger by publicizing the audacity
and arrogance of the French Bastard that run these institutions
(which I am doing right here). Let them bitch about American culture
to each other. Let them kiss my rosy red American Ass! |
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The line was down the block and across a street. We timed it at
almost 90 minutes to get to the door! |
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As we stood there, groping for Plan "C", up pulled a red
double-decker tourist bus. Unbeknownst, we had been standing at the
"Musee d'Orsay bus stop" with our 2nd day bus passes in our
hands. Plan "C" was suddenly obvious, and we jumped aboard
to calm our nerves, rest our feet, and put together our heads. We
seated ourselves atop the bus when one final French insult was put
upon us, and the cloudy overcast skies began to lightly mist then
slowly drizzle a very light, very cold rain. With the other tourists,
we scampered down to the cramped, dingy confines of the lower deck.
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The line at Musee d'Orsay barely moved. |
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L'Angels sent us le bus d'Rouge |
The party ended with it started a cold misty rain |
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We rode the bus on its circuit on the right bank, by the Place
d'Concord and its stolen Egyptian obelisk, through the fancy shops of
the fashion and perfume districts, past the grand original Paris
Opera House and for a sneaky stop directly in front of the stores
that underwrite the bus tour. What a perfect place to sit idle for
ten minutes (nominally to "change drivers"), and
"please note that your Paris tour book includes a 10% off coupon
good at these stores". Yet other tourists, coupons in hand, were
indeed walking toward the store! We waited out this ridiculous pit
stop then circled back taking more pictures. During this time Jesse
proposed a marvelous Plan "C".
Back at home, Jesse had read about the
Musee Marmottan, an impressive show of Van Gogh and Monet oils
(many say the "third best museum in Paris"). It started as
a private collection in a private home, was converted to a museum
upon the death of the owner a hundred years previously, and was
augmented by donations of Monet's heir and other collectors of
Impressionist works. Unfortunately it is a bit off the path, located
in a historically residential area, several blocks from a metro. But
off we set, in the cloudy overcast and light rain, with our bones
chilled, and our legs already tired, and still yet to see even one
square millimetre of Art Museum. |
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The Place d'Concorde with Invalids in the distance. |
We stopped at the Arch d'Triomphe for another picture. |
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Click HERE
to Monsuir Chat Graffiti |
Click HERE
to see "Spring Fling" Sale |
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Dave:
We woke up determined to avoid our dismal fate from yesterday. We
would not walk our legs numb while skipping meals and then be too
tired to enjoy Paris sightseeing. No Sir! So we headed downstairs for
a big Renaissance Hotel breakfast. I should add that since the
concierge lounge was closed on the week-end, upon check-in we were
given vouchers for breakfast in honor of my Marriott platinum status.
Only problem was, two days? Two vouchers. So we skipped breakfast the
first day (with disastrous results) and spent both coupons this
morning. The buffet was wonderful, practically overflowing with
American-style breakfast items. We feasted on scrambled eggs,
sausage, toast, fruit. Even "American-style" coffee. We
were set.
he
did to us, seating the reluctant diners and quickly getting them
drinks. Some were bothered, others were confused, but Jesse and I
just laughed and smiled at his entrepreneurial antics!
