And, it feels that way. Walking around outside the museum, around the art, and in one of the museum's cafes is like a world tour; it's really obvious that people from _all_ over the world are visiting the museum.
A view of that famous triangle, and David pondering something really deep near it:
A view of one wing of the museum:
The glass triangle is actually where you enter the museum, and once inside, you buy tickets in the lobby beneath it.
Once we were inside and had purchased our tickets, I stood in line for twenty minutes to use the ladies room. Yah. Twenty minutes. That was nothing, however, to how long David had to wait for a snack at one of the museum cafes. He was still waiting when I got done in the bathroom.
After our snack, we headed to some of the many wings of the museum. We didn't have really strong feelings about things that we needed to see, besides the obvious, i.e. the Mona Lisa. So, we wandered. We saw lots of European art from the Renaissance to the nineteenth century.
We saw the Venus de Milo:
Which was quite lovely in person. I hate to be that angsty Eating Disorder girl, but it was refreshing to see so many sculptures and paintings with fuller women. I mean, real women rather than 21st century model/anorexic women. It was a nice reminder that women's bodies, historically, are meant to be fuller, rounder, less angular and bony. (Or maybe I was just glad that I had an excuse for eating all those croissants and full-fat yogurts.)
Speaking of women, we also saw the Mona Lisa. Duh. The ML is, of course, a major draw, and even in the off-season of November the room housing the ML was quite full, with a large group of people crowded around it.
The crowd wasn't too surprising. What did surprise me was how small the painting is. I'm not sure if that comes across in the picture above, but take my word for it--it's pretty small, especially for all that fuss.
With that, I'll leave off the Louvre. It was a necessary stop on a trip to Paris, but to be honest, I don't really enjoy walking around and looking at artwork for hours and hours. Two hours, sure. But more than that and it all starts blending together for me, especially because all of the plaques next to the paintings were in French and they were out of the audio guides that would've given us English descriptions of the art.
Before leaving the museum, we did have our only negative interaction with a French person. It happened while we were riding an elevator to see the Mona Lisa. We were in the elevator with a family with a small child in a stroller, and naturally David and I started smiling at the kid and trying to make her smile with funny faces. Bad move, apparently, because the mom saw us, looked right at us, and actually rolled her eyes and scoffed. I am sympathetic to _some_ criticisms leveled at Americans by other countries, including France, but this really riled up my American pride. It was the quintessential French-American discord: silly Americans and haughty French, and I have to say it really irritated me.
As a result, I was forced to assuage my anger with pizza for dinner. Luckily we found a nice pizza place near our apartment. If the pizza hadn't been good, the decor might have made up for it:
We started with a beer and wine, as well as a green salad and some minestrone:
|Even the random table bread they give you is ahhhhmazing!|
For dinner David ordered a cheese free veggie pizza. Boooooring!
I thought I ordered a caprese pizza. But what I got was a cheese pizza.
Luckily, the cheese in France is sooooooo good. Like, unbelievably good. I really can't explain it other than to say that the cheese on this pizza, and on several other things I ate while there, tasted more like cheese than the cheese we have here. It's like someone took regular cheese and then made it taste more cheesy. OMG. Memories. Cheese memories.
A nice post-dinner walk to temper all that cheese:
And our time in Paris was over!
Up next: the trip to Annecy, France!
*Do you like going to art museums? (i.e. are you a Philistine like me or are you cultured?)