Almost a Tourist

 

As tourists do, I went to the Louvre today. Americans think it’s the size of their mother’s garage in Des Moines, so it comes as something of a shock to them when they realise that it is somewhat larger. Considerably, mind-bogglingly larger, as it happens. Someone said that if you looked at every exhibit for a little under three seconds, it would take decades to see everything. They seem to like you to walk everywhere also. No convenient elevators, except in the entrance pyramid which Parisians are still polarised about. I’m not quite sure how an image of the Arch in La Defense found its way into the collage, but, never mind..
The photographs are from the Etruscan section and the seventeenth century French paintings which for no discernible reason appear to share gallery space, only because I was so ticked at having to queue for nearly an hour to get in, I walked along the most convenient and nearest corridor. And no, I didn’t go and see the Mona Lisa because it would have taken me two and a half hours to get there and Japanese tourists en masse bring me out in hives.
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2 thoughts on “Almost a Tourist

  1. I can believe the hives.

    I happened to visit a famous museum in London on an August weekend. The awe over my first glimpse of the stunning rotunda evaporated in the press that swept me along the corridors willy nilly only to spit me out in front of some ancient sarcophagus in the Egypt room. I took a picture of the hieroglyphics (because they were right in front of me) clutched my camera to my person and edged out along the wall. I saw not one other thing in the hallowed halls of that place.
    I reclaimed my sanity by getting on the first bus and riding the entire circuit before getting off where I started. I returned to Paddington Station and eventually the airport more convinced than ever that I am allergic to group activities. *ick*

    Like

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