Break on through to the other side

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I don't know what’s gonna to happen, but I'm gonna get my kicks before the whole shit house goes up in flames.

Jim Morrison

I remembered this semi-famous quote this morning as I was staring at the flowers at Jim Morrison’s grave. Jim and I may have disagreed on the method, but, philosophically, we’re on the same page. For me, “kicks” have been taking time away from the world we all denounce yet to which we so easily acquiesce and pursuing a passion. In my case, that passion has been exploring the world and opening my mind to something totally new. I guess it was that way in Jim’s case, too, but he took trips without leaving the room.

I bring this up because my first stop today was Pere LaChaise Cemetary. The cemetery is home to many notable artists, scientists and philosophers, including de Balzac, Bellini, Chopin, La Fontaine, Molière, Oscar Wilde and, of course, Jim Morrison of The Doors.

I expected to see all these notable men when I arrived; until I saw just how large the cemetery is. I never came close to Oscar Wilde. His grave was on the other side of the cemetery - maybe a mile away.

I did make it to Bellini’s grave and Chopin’s nearby (though I couldn’t actually find his) then went to Jim Morrison’s.

Most of the other notable residents had gravesites that could have gone as unnoticed as any other; but not Jim Morrison’s. His was the only one where there were groups of people taking pictures, laying flowers and quietly observing. And these others were approximately my age. Like me, they also weren’t even born when Jim Morrison was still living. Some were even Spanish.

Maybe they love the music but maybe they also love the spirit he embodied. That rebellious spirit that was not about to conform for the sake of conformity. That inquisitive spirit which, like many geniuses before him, challenged the blindly accepted principles of the time. And that excessive spirit that led to the man’s untimely death.

I had to race off without seeing the others to make my next tour - a trip out to Versailles. Versailles is a royal palace which started being built by Louis XIII and became the center of political power under Louis XIV. It sits about 12 miles southwest of Paris.

When I arrived at our meeting point at St Michel, the same one as the free tour the other day, I introduced myself as from Philadelphia. The tour guide said she was from near there in a place called Allentown. Shocked, I responded I was actually from outside of Philly in Reading, which is 40 minutes south of Allentown.

It turns out that she went to Parkland High School. She is the daughter of a British man and a French woman, who arrived at our meeting point shortly after I met her. She’s taken an interest in her French side and moved here after graduating from Maryland last year. I was shocked to have anyone from near home serving as a tour guide in France.

The rest of the tour group was comprised of three Aussies (two from Melbourne) and one kiwi. I swear they are taking over the travel world. I must have met at least 30 people from Melbourne in the last two weeks and 40 from Australia/New Zealand.

The palace grounds sit on about 250 acres - it is a massive piece of land. That was the most exhilarating part. The palace alone is 51,200 square meters. That’s about the size of 530 apartments like my old one in New York. The whole thing could be worth as much as $300 billion. I wonder what valuation we’ll get for the White House when we mortgage it to the Chinese.

First, we walked around the massive gardens. Again, the most intriguing part was how much land they took up. The gardens were beautiful but I’ve seen much better. Maybe I just prefer the English style since the English garden was by far my favorite.

After touring a lot of gardens, we had lunch along the canal; a place where tourists can rent overpriced glorified canoes and row themselves around a pond. We all enjoyed the company of the swans, ducks and fish that joined us, hoping to scrounge at our scraps. They weren’t getting any from me - Ryan doesn’t share food.

Afterwards, we finished touring the grounds, including the orangerie (a part where orange trees are grown) and then went into the palace.

While parts of the palace were a bit of a letdown, the lavishness of the royal bedrooms was astounding. Each left not a bit of plain space as gold and fine fabrics were consistent throughout the rooms.

I also enjoyed the massive paintings on some of the walls. When I was walking down one long hallway with paintings of French battles, one figure looked like George Washington. In fact, it was. The artist had depicted a painting of the French assisting in the American Revolution. I chuckled when the narrator of the audio guide told me that this was because France “believes in liberty”. I guess he wasn’t aware that at the time France had a monarchy that wouldn’t be revolted against until 1789. He also failed to realize that the American opponent was Great Britain, France’s longtime adversary. Oops.

I also liked the paintings devoted to Napoleon. Although he was a pompous jerk, I remember admiring him in my French Civ class my freshman year. I continue to admire him today. Normally that attitude would unnerve me but I think when someone is very arrogant but has something to support it and, most importantly, recognizes that arrogance, it’s fascinating to me. He reminds me a bit of General Patton in that regard. Maybe Patton thought he was once Napoleon (or at least served under him) - who knows.

Throughout some of the French history that supported the tour, I couldn’t help but laugh at the Mel Brooks film History of the World: Part I with: Count the Money (Count de Money); and “the people are revolting”, “you said it they stink on ice”.

After the tour, I made the trip back to the city of Paris where I grabbed a quick and cheap dinner. I finally found chicken (at a Middle Eastern place). I have been meat deprived of late. I need my meat. These people over here eat nothing but bread. That just doesn’t cut it for me.

I also picked up some water, a banana and a bottle of red wine at the supermarket for €1.76, about $2.50. Paris is an expensive city but the wine sure is cheap. I sit here slugging the wine straight from the bottle as I write this.

Tomorrow is my last day in Paris. I have a few touristy things but I need to do laundry. I’m about out of clothes.

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Photos

Jim Morrison's grave
Flowers adorned on Jim Morrison's grave at Pere LaChaise.

Versailles
A look at the palace from the front.

King's bed
The curtains are a bit more ornate than my hostel bed.

Napoleon crowning Josephine
A large painting showing the crowning of Josephine.

American Revolution
A painting of the French helping in the American Revolution.