Workers at the Louvre went on strike Monday. Which caused me to send out supportive thoughts of solidarity to any teenagers being dragged through Europe by their parents, sullen and silent, figuring, "At least I'll be able to tell the gang back home that I saw that famous woman, Mona Whatever."
I was that kid. Summer of 1977. My father spent a couple months at the Palais de Nations, taking his family along to cool their heels in Geneva. Not what I would call a hopping town. I spent a lot of time in the American Library, reading "Dune." I pined for Cleveland or, more specifically, my girlfriend in Cleveland. That's what you do at 17.
Though I did stretch my wings, taking the train to Zurich, and the boat two Chillon, twice, to visit Byron's Castle. I had a great fondness for Byron at the time. "I have not loved the world/Nor the world me/Have not flattered its rank breath/Nor bowed a patient knee,"
For the last two weeks of the trip we hit Paris and London. The highlight was to be the Louvre. But the Louvre .. was closed ...for renovations.
For the last two weeks of the trip we hit Paris and London. The highlight was to be the Louvre. But the Louvre .. was closed ...for renovations.
I didn't believe my mother when she told me — can there be a more 17-year-old reaction than that? I thought she was lying to me, that she just didn't want to go to the Louvre. To spite me. In my defense, that sort of thing was certainly within her capacity.
I insisted on striding up to the museum doors and pulling. Locked. Turns out ... the Louvre ... was closed. For renovations. The week we were in Paris.
I ended up ditching my family and wandering the book stalls along the Seine. In one, there was a pile of art reproductions on canvas, mounted on wood. A life-size copy of Petrus Christus's "Portait of a Young Lady" caught my eye and I bought it.
I insisted on striding up to the museum doors and pulling. Locked. Turns out ... the Louvre ... was closed. For renovations. The week we were in Paris.
She's been staring from my bedroom wall for ... ngggg, doing the math ... 48 years now. I eventually put a big ass gilt frame around it. And when the actual picture, housed in Berlin, came to the Met, I made a point to go see it, sitting gazing at it for maybe half an hour. The original is much finer — art reproduction wasn't at its height in the mid-1970s.
The funny thing is, the Louvre being closed turned out to be one of the more memorable aspects of the Paris trip. I didn't get back for 15 years, until I returned with my wife. The Louvre was open that time. Closed makes for a better story. I'm sure that will be cold comfort for all those tourists milling around in front of the locked Louvre doors in stunned incomprehension.
My, what a petulant young lady. I had to look up the artist. As an art major I vaguely remember him. There is one painting which looks to be the birth of a baby. It's quite strange, but I am intrigued by the man in the background leaning over the wall, like the nosey neighbor everyone has.
ReplyDeleteIs the strike in sympathy with anti-tourism protesters throughout Europe? Residents in Barcelona, Lisbon, and Venice carried signs and used squirt guns on tourists this weekend, to piss them off. They claim "overtourism" is ruining the quality of life for the locals. Rents are soaring, housing is being converted to tourist lodging, and stores are being replaced by souvenir stands and bubble-tea cafes.
ReplyDeleteSounds like they have a valid point. Have heard that Rome, Paris, Amsterdam and Venice are now overrun with visitors from everywhere, and are becoming Disneylands. Hence the protests, and possibly the Louvre strike. Venice now "closes" when crowds become too large. Midwestern frat boys swan dive into canals from bridges. Piazzas and plazas are mobbed.
Should have gone in 1971, as planned, instead of heading west to Boulder, and living there briefly. Have never been to Europe. And at 78, I probably won't make it. The big European cities sound more like EPCOT now. Been there a few times. The theme park can draw as many as 60,000 visitors daily, so I guess I've already been to today's Europe. Enjoyed Germany. And Norway was nice.
From what I saw on the network news yesterday, it appears a lot of the people protesting in Paris are fed up with Air B&B for taking away thousands of apartments that used to be for the locals to rent.
DeleteDid you have to include that egomaniacal, demented, deranged, moronic, fat, fat, fascist, traitor's building with his disgusting name on it in the photo?
ReplyDeleteAnd people are st stupid they will actually swim in the Venice canals? I've read there's more sewage in them than in that creek Brainworm Bobby put his grandchildren in!
Well, it's right there. I can't help that. I suppose I could have cut it out. But I'll leave prettying up reality to others.
Deletenever been to Europe no plans to go. still lots to see here. the pacific north west is next on my list. we have very old things here. trees
ReplyDeleteDon’t miss Olympic National Forest, especially the Hoh Rain Forest. Stunningly beautiful.
DeleteI laughed at the description of an unwilling 17-yr-old traveling with family. A very relatable dynamic.
ReplyDeleteJust the other day, we asked our two sons, now in their 30s, what they most remember about our trip to Paris almost 20 years ago. Turns out their most enduring memory was lining up to buy the latest Harry Potter book at a Paris bookstore.
ReplyDeleteMy grandfather worked until the day he died. Had my grandfather not died first, I'm sure my grandmother would have worked until the day she died.
ReplyDeleteUntil my dad retired, I didn't know anyone who was actually retired. At least I never realized some of our older neighbors were retired, I mean, i was gone during most of the days, how could I have known.
Regardless, I never really understood retirement. That is, until i visited Paris and The Louvre.
I could spend each and every one of my remaining days on this planet, just wandering the streets of that city and the halls of that institution. I am sure i would get board and have to hop a train to another European city for a day or week trip, but to simply exist with no restraints upon me as i float through the fields and canals of magic that is Paris.
And one day, I will do what Hitler could not, and climb the stairs to the top of the Eiffel tower, just to see Paris at my feet.
With 8 billion people on the planet, a large portion of whom have sufficient disposable income to travel, overtourism (a word I just made up) is not a surprise. I rather admire the locals with their squirt guns.
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