Get Into the Louvre

I was body checked by a tiny Japanese woman today.

I was trying to take this picture:

As you can see from the picture below, you don't get to stand very close to the Mona Lisa. She's inside a glass enclosure, which is protected by a wooden railing, and then to provide additional protection, there is the velvet rope to keep the mob further back. 

Ella and JJ squint to see the Mona Lisa. It's represented as being the "real" one, but I thought I saw some paint by numbers lines in the light blue part.

The mob is endless, and ruthless. I had worked my way forward and was getting close to the rope, when I was pushed bodily by a five foot tall Japanese lady. In her defense, the only way she was ever going to get the picture she wanted was to use some force. But why me? It wasn't as if I'd been standing there hogging the best spot.

JJ can't believe the huge crowd or the small painting.

We'd been told the Mona Lisa experience was kind of underwhelming, so I think we were prepared. I actually wasn't disappointed in it. I was just kind of shocked at how aggressive people were in jockeying for position.

Meanwhile there was another painting. . . same artist (Leonardo da Vinci), same kind of painting (portrait of woman), same general quality (to my uneducated eye), but it had no one looking at it.

I got close enough to this one I could have cleaned the glass if I'd brought a bottle of Windex and a couple paper towels. 

So the question has to be: "What makes the Mona Lisa the Mona Lisa?"

The answer came from Ella. We were looking at a reproduction of the Mona Lisa before we got into see the "real" one, and Ella said, "why is she smiling like that?"

That's kind of incredible. A five year old child, without prompting or coaching, asks the question. "Why is she smiling like that?" Inquiring minds want to know!

JJ says that Mona has a secret, but I'm not so sure. I think she found out that she has to pay Leonardo in Euros, and she showed up with US dollars.

The mob was not restricted to the ML, however.

The Venus de Milo, an ancient greek sculpture. I can tell she's been eating in French restaurants. It cost her both arms.

You must never, never, never call it a statue. If you do, they'll know you are un nul, for sure. What? Don't know what Les Nuls are? You better order this from Amazon right away.

Notice that it's illustrée in case you can't actually even read. You could actually buy this in the Louvre book store.

By the time we saw the Venus de Milo, I was starving so bad I couldn't read the Louvre map. Fortunately we found the cafeteria before it opened, so I didn't miss out on a chance to eat sooner.

Ella picks the soft middle out of a baguette while JJ eats a nasty salad. I have a hunk of cold quiche to savor on my plate.

After lunch, we if there was anything left to see, so we consulted our Louvre guide and discovered we'd seen exactly 0.000000001% of the collection. But once we'd knocked off Mona Lisa, Ella lost all interest and suggested we go home. So we thought maybe she'd be interested in the Egyptian Antiquities. It was a nice thought, but it was incorrect.

We voted and even after best of of three votes, Ella lost.

This sphinx was the size of a car.

Three thousand year old kitty cats for Nana and Grand-Dan. You can't take these home with you, though. They're behind glass!

Ella loved these giant feet. This was her favorite piece from the entire day. She was exceptionally bored prior to seeing these feet. After, she was extraordinarily bored.

Some Pharaoh or other, but he looks all mysterious and cool with this lighting.

More cats. Imagine the vet bill!

Perhaps my favorite work of art of the day was not at the Louvre. I saw this guy on the way home. Someone just added a couple cartoon eyes, and we have this:

We'd come a long way to get to Paris and we weren't leaving without checking some biggies off the list. Mona Lisa, Venus de Milo, Winged Victory, Old Man and Young Boy (no, it's okay), etc. The problem is that everyone who comes to Paris has the same plan. Like that tiny lady who shoved me. Well, I payed it forward. So, old guy with the cane, if you're reading this, I'm really sorry about what happened on the stairs . . .