Top 12 Tips for Tiptoeing around Tourist Tangles while Traveling in Paris with Teens

Paris is the World’s #1 Tourist Destination.

Stands to reason, right?  With so many iconic sites and so much delectable food in one gorgeous place, what’s not to like?

The crowds, that’s what. And they can be brutal in the most visited city on earth, especially in summer.

Yesterday a Time Traveler Tales reader reached out. She said,

Sarah, Help! I’m here with my two kids, ages 10 and 14, and they’re about ready to boycott our family vacation and go home. Everywhere we go – the Eiffel Tower, Musée Dorsay, Chateau de Versailles – the ticket lines are hours long! This is not the holiday any of us dreamed of. Can you help us turn our trip into something they will enjoy and remember for years to come, as we’d hoped?

So, this one’s for you, Keri: My Top 12 list of things to do in Paris with teens and tweens that are sure to please AND get you around the crowds.

Paris Metro, A Moving Museum

I love the Paris Metro. It’s fast, efficient, and clean, not to mention oozing with history. It’s a wonderful way to get around Paris and an even better way to put your teens and tweens in the driver’s seat. Start them out with my Paris Metro Crossword, part of a free offering you'll recieve by subscribing to the TTT newsletter. It will teach them the geography of the city without their even knowing it.

Once you’re on the ground here, go to any magazine kiosk – they are everywhere – and buy souvenir money can buy: Le Paris Pratique par Arrondissement.

Then, head to your first Metro station and get each member of your crew a Paris Visite Travel Card. With it you will enjoy unlimited travel on all Metro, Bus, and RER lines within greater Paris for the duration of your stay. Some of the longest lines during peak tourist season are underground where visitors who are buying-as-they-go find themselves stuck for much too long behind the very limited supply of ticket dispensing machines. Don’t be one of them.

NOTE: The Metro is safe, but pickpockets abound during peak tourist season, especially on Line #1, the main east-west artery through the city. So zip up those bags and clutch them tightly under your arm and never wear your backpack on your back. Hug it across your front; I don’t care how nerdy it feels. And be wary of children about elbow height traveling in herds. They may just be the ones that prey on groups of non-French-speaking people standing together chatting unawares just in front of the Metro car doors. They wait until the train is pulling into a station, bump you, pick you clean, and run. Bye-bye wallet, camera, phone, etc. They are that good.

The Eiffel Tower, An Alternate Perspective

Time’s too precious to waste a single minute of your adventure waiting in line. So, if you really want to go to the top of the Eiffel Tower, buy your tickets online in advance. But if you’re already here and have no tix in hand, I urge you to try this magical alternative instead:

Take your troops to the Champs de Mars for a late dinner picnic of French cheese, sliced ham, fresh baguette, olives, ripe fruit, etc. Make the experience even better by involving them in purchasing the picnic earlier in the day at one of Paris’ many outdoor farmers’ markets.

Now here’s the key, crazy as it may sound: Arrive on the Champs de Mars after 10pm. Yes, that’s right, by “late-dinner picnic”, I mean after 10. Pick your spot amongst the other merry revelers (don’t worry, it’s safe, just be vigilant with your valuables as you would on the Metro) and dig into your feast.

Be certain to stash amongst your edible treasures a bottle of chilled Champagne and enough glasses to go around. But don’t pop it right away! Trust me on this one. You’ll know when it’s time. And when you do, do as the French do: offer your teens their first taste of the yummy bubbly stuff. It’ll make them feel so grown up and respected. It’s just a taste, mind you. But you will be forever cool in their minds, and the best traveling companion on earth.

Now sit back, and enjoy the show!

Paris from Above, With Macarons

So you didn’t get to the top of the Eiffel Tower, no big deal! The view is even better from the top of the Arc de Triomphe, à mon avis (in my opinion), and the only way to get there is by walking the Champs Elysées which is where all the Parisian teens hang out, so yours will love it.

On your way up Paris’ most famous street, stop at the shop that invented the French macaron: Ladurée. At the time of this writing the Salon de Thé is under renovation. But you can buy their mouth-watering treats ‘to go’, in any number of wonderful flavors.Take them with you packed tightly in the iconic lime-green Ladurée bag and climb to the top of the monument.

Enjoy your sweet snack as you gaze down upon Paris’ famous Axe (axis) – the line that runs directly from the Louvre Arc du Carrousel through the Arch of Triumph to the modern arch at La Defense. That’s one thing you will never see from the Eiffel Tower!

Paris from Above, Meet me at the Fair

Everyone loves a good Fair. And the Tuileries Gardens is possibly the greatest location for a fair on earth. I go to this one every year with my teen and we always ride high, on the Ferris Wheel or the Swinger, or both, just to take in the magnificence of the view below. From the Rue de Rivoli to the Seine, from the Louvre to the Place de la Concorde, this is a crowd pleaser for the thrill seekers among you, every. single. time.

Montmartre, but for Breakfast

Now you won’t want to miss Paris’ highest point with its wedding-cake-like monument, Sacre Cœur, crowning the top. But the crowds can be impenetrable there from well before noon. So shake those youngins awake and treat them to a pre-breakfast funicular ride straight to the top. Jetez a coup d’œil (throw a quick glance) at the Basilica, and then make your way directly to the Place du Tertre. Enjoy the scene of the locals waking up do a new day at any of the cafés that surround the Place. Take your time, get your portrait drawn, and when crowds begin to arrive, you’ll be ready to make your leave.

Now, using your Paris Pratique, head in the direction of the Abbesses Metro, one of only two original Guimard stations still left intact and the deepest Metro station in all of Paris. You’ll wend your way down the south side of the Mount through the picturesque Montmartre streets. Don’t worry. You can’t get lost. Treat yourself to a gouter (snack) once you’ve reached the Place des Abbesses. And return to central Paris from the station - take the stairs to the platform for a view of some of the best street art around.

Notre Dame with Crepes and Ice Cream

A visit inside La Cathédrale de Notre Dame is truly a must and though the line is always long, it also moves relatively fast. But getting up the Cathedral Tower can take forever. So skip it. Instead walk to the end of the same street, in the direction of the Ile Saint Louis. On the left side of the street is a brasserie, named after La Esmeralda of Hunchback fame. They make a pretty good lunchtime crepe right there on the street. Take your meal in hand and head into the park just behind the Cathedral. The view of the flying buttresses is magnificent from there, as is the view of local children at play. Find a bench and enjoy a quiet moment amongst the French. When you’re ready to move on, cross the footbridge linking the Ile de la Cité, where you are, with the Ile St. Louis. There’s always something wonderful to see on the bridge, but the real prize is just on the other side. There, you’ll find a shop selling Berthillon Ice Cream. I recommend a cone with deux boulles (two scoops), one of dark chocolate, the other blood orange sorbet.

Museums Even a Kid Will Love

Paris museums are bar none, and under-18s get in for free. My favorite for young people is the Musée d’Orsay, which boasts the largest collection of French impressionism under one roof, in this case a former train station. Fun! But in summer the ticket queue can grow to 2 ½ hours long. So, if you haven’t purchased your Paris Museum Pass in advance, save this stop for your next trip to Paris and go straight to the Pompidou Center and the Musée Beaubourg instead. No one can resist this inside-out museum, much less the endless activity in the Place just out front. And when you've had your fill of the local color to be found there, amble eastward into the Marais. Wander the former-swamp-turned-medieval-neighborhood now teeming with chic modern boutiques until you hit the Place de Voges, the quintessential place for a truly Parisian respite.

Chateau de Versailles, by Bike

Who can resist the Chateau de Versailles, and you've come all this way so you really must go. But the best part of the sprawling grounds for youth, to my mind, is not inside the palace, but outside, in the gardens. So, upon arrival at the sumptuous castle, pass right on by the queues of people jockeying for a sweaty view of the royal apartments and head to the left and straight through the building to the tapestry of gardens at the back. Meander through the mazes and along the hedgerows and around the fountains all the way down to the king's reflecting pool. There you will find everything you need for a grand family day out: bike rental, boat rental, restaurant, café. My recommendation is to rent some bikes and explore the extensive former hunting grounds of the Ancien Régime. Then, hop on the shuttle to the Queen’s Petit Trianon and Hameau (hamlet).

Underground Paris, Amongst the Dearly Departed

Back in the earliest days of the 19^th century, Emperor Bonaparte sought to transform Paris into ‘the gem of all Europe’, and he meant to leave no stone unturned. Included in his project to remake his adopted city was the underground burial site, the Paris Catacombs, then just a jumble of bones, piled bone upon bone, the remains of some six million former Paris residents. He had the Catacombs turned into the place to see, ordering all those cranium and femur, tibia and humerus stacked neatly and decoratively in intricate patterns. You can visit the Catacombs to this day, but be warned:

• This ghoulish exhibit is not for the faint of heart or for those who suffer from claustrophobia!
• Start early! Plan to queue up 15-30 minutes before opening, as this line, too, can get quite backed up. Only 200 people are allowed down at a time.
• You must climb 130 steps to get into the Catacombs, 83 steps to get back out, and walk about 1.2 miles (2kms) underground. So not the best place for those with bad backs and brittle knees.
• The temperature in the Catacombs is a consistent 55 deg F (13 C), all year round. So bring a wrap, even in summer.
• It's also very damp in the Catacombs and can get quite slippery, so wear sensible shoes with adequate traction.

Once above ground again, if you have not yet had your fill of communing with Paris’ dead, her cemeteries are lovely parks in and of themselves. The Montparnasse Cemetery is located just a stone’s throw from the Catacombs exit. And the Père Lachaise Cemetery, all the way over in the 20^th arrondissement, affords specatacular views of the city. De plus, what's more, both are excellent places for a treasure hunt!

What Canal?

Why the Canal St. Martin, of course! Best viewed from a bike or from the water itself, so grab a Velib (must be 14+) and ride as far as the Basin de la Villette. From there, hop on the Canauxrama boat tour and float back down the canal, passing through its four locks, until you reach central Paris again at the river Seine. This is a great trip on a day when your feet are feeling particularly weary.

The Latin Quarter by Evening

This is my teen’s favorite. She’d advise you to take the Metro to Odeon (Line 4 or 10) and to simply wander the streets to the north and the south of the Boulevard St. Germain. There, café crowds spill out into the streets. Music and the cheering on of sports teams tumble out behind them. “Follow your nose”, the Lucky-one-and-only (Loo) would say. “Go where your heart tells you to go. Hang where the locals hang.”

If you've traveled so far north that you hit the River Seine, locate some stairs to take you down along the Quai. If instead you've meandered in a southerly direction, continue up the hill past the Odeon theatre all the way to the Luxembourg Gardens.

“Let the city guide you,” Loo advises, sweet-sixteen and already a veteran world traveler. She knows that some of your best moments in Paris come to you as gifts totally unplanned.

Time Traveler Tours Revolutionary App Tour

Last but not least, travel back in time with our app tour, Beware Madame la Guillotine, A Revolutionary Tour of Paris. All you need is the download, we’ve taken care of the rest. Join your tour guide, 24 year-old Charlotte Corday, as she winds you through central Paris on this unforgettable day-long interactive itinerary that includes visits to the Palais Royal, the Conciergerie, and Paris’ oldest restaurant/café, Le Café Procope. Play the Procope Treasure Hunt Game and win a 10% reduction off lunch!

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Images:

View over Paris, at dusk, from the Maine-Montparnasse tower, equirectilinear projection version, 9 February 2008, Benh LIEU SONG, courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.

Eiffel Tower, seen from the Champ de Mars, 1 June 2009, Benh LIEU SONG, courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.

“Edible rainbow”. Macarons from Ladurée, Paris, France, 18 December 2009, Sunny Ripert, courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.

Loo and friend at La Fete des Tuileries, summer 2010, by Sarah B. Towle.

Cathedral of Notre-Dame in Paris: East side, April 2004, Lusitana, courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.

Chateau de Versailles, exterior facade, from southwest, 23 September 2005, Kallgan, courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.

Paris Catacombs, by Viktor Hartmann (1834-1873).

This Month in French History: 1789

In the spring of 1789, France faced a crippling financial crisis. King Louis XVI called for a meeting of the Estates General – equal numbers of representatives from the nobility, clergy, and Third Estate (that is, everyone else) – to help him resolve the situation.

No French King had convened the Estates General for over 150 years.  So, new delegates to the counseling body had to be selected from all corners of the country. 

In June, 12,000 delegates to the Estates General arrived at Versailles, each sporting the dress of their social class: 

• The Third Estate wore plain black suits and three corner hats.
• The nobility were bedecked in silks and plumes.
• The clergy shouldered their traditional violet vestments. 

They came to help resolve France’s financial problems. They came to usher in a new, golden age for France. They carried with them the hope and optimism of the entire French nation.  Confidence reigned.

But it quickly soured.

The Third Estate demanded more voting power. They did, after all, represent 96% of the French population. But they had only as many votes as the clergy and nobility, and these two always voted with the monarchy. 

The demand of the Third Estate did not sit well with the King. He locked them out of the meeting.

But with the hopes and dreams of the entire nation weighing heavily on their shoulders, the Third Estate refused to leave Versailles. They held their own meeting in the king’s indoor games court, the Jeu de Paume, the only place big enough to accommodate their numbers and shelter them from the storm that raged like their fury with the old regime.

They proclaimed themselves “the true representatives of the French people.” They named themselves The National Assembly, an assembly not of the Estates, but of “The People”: France’s new government.

Forty-seven nobles and many clergy as well left the king’s meeting to join the National Assembly, among them Louis-Philippe Joseph II, Duc d’Orleans. They pledged an oath to write France her first constitution. 

It seemed the Revolution was won.

But King Louis XVI was not so quick to recognize France’s new, self-proclaimed government. Where did it put him? Where did it leave his son, the dauphin, the future King of France?  As he awaited the new constitution, he grew anxious of the rumble back in Paris. He sent troops to surround the city.

Parisians grew scared of the weapons now pointing at them.

***

Exerpt from: Beware Madame la Guillotine, A Revolutionary Tour of Paris. For more information or to purchase, click here.

Images:

David, Jacques-Louis. Serment du jeu de paume à Versailles, 20 juin 1789 (The Tennis Court Oath at Versailles, 20 June 1789), 1791. Photo credit © Sarah B. Towle, 2010, photographed with permission, Musée Carnavalet.

Unknown. L'Egaliité. Crédit photographique: Musée de la Révolution Françaises, Vizille, France, http://www.domaine-vizille.fr, Inv. MRF 1983-311.

 Unknown. Fraternité. Crédit photographique: Musée de la Révolution Françaises, Vizille, France, http://www.domaine-vizille.fr, Inv. MRF 1983-311.

The October March of Women, 1789

" In the wee hours of October 6, 1789, a mob of peasant women broke into the Palace of Versailles. They had been encamped outside the chateau since the previous evening, awaiting an audience with my King, Louis XVI (16^th), and his Queen, Marie Antoinette.

The women had come from Paris and they were starving. Their children and their aged, as well, were starving. A terrible storm had wiped out France’s wheat crop that summer. Now the common folk had no bread, their main – and sometimes only – source of food. I followed them from Paris as they struggled to make the 20 kilometer journey on foot, afraid for my King, afraid of the power of the mob. As the women marched, their numbers grew. All along the route, I observed as more women dropped their washing and their brooms and left their children to join the fray. They arrived at Versailles in the thousands, demanding that King Louis and Marie Antoinette save them from their misery. Their hunger had driven them to madness. Waiting through the night for a response from the King had transformed their desperation to fury.

Before dawn, they stormed the Palace through a servants’ entrance. I pushed in amongst them, hoping to reach the King first, to warn him or hide him, I knew not what. But the scene was one of total mayhem. Frantic women rushed in all directions. They ran down gilded corridors, flew up marble staircases, burst through passageways reserved for servants. 'If they refuse to come out', was heard the mob’s collective cry, 'we’ll drag them out!' They searched for the King and Queen, their rage now whipped to a savage frenzy. They killed anyone who got in their way.
Before dawn, the King and Queen were found with their two children and the King’s sister, Madame Elizabeth, huddled like mice before a gang of hungry cats, still in their bedclothes in the King’s private apartments. They were forced to dress quickly and pressed into waiting carriages bound for Paris, driven there by the mob so that they might bear witness to the misery of their subjects.
They would never see Versailles again.

Some among the women accompanied the king and queen with the severed heads of royal guards held high upon pikes, like tattered, bloody flags. Others stayed behind and shouting, Down with the Monarchy! Down with the King!, they hurried about the chateau, smashing statuary and precious antiques, pilfering what could be carried, seizing foodstuffs from the immense Versailles kitchen: fresh pheasant and duck, salted pork, baskets of vegetables, and bread still baking in the ovens for that morning’s royal meal.

I do not recall the moment I became conscious that I was powerless to save my King. But I do remember being gripped with the urgent imperative to save the King’s Garden. In a flash I knew, without thinking, that I, Antoine Laurent de Jussieu – the fourth member of my family to bear the title, Botanist-in-Chief to the King – was obliged to confront the mob to save the legacy of two centuries of adventurers and natural scientists, even if it meant my death.
The mob’s force was not diminished by its destruction of the chateau interior. The women’s anger only expanded with their ferocity, like a volcano whose vigor has been pent up for too long. And indeed, it did not take long for them to spill out into the Royal Gardens, intent on further rampage.
I was waiting for them. The botanists, master-gardeners, and under-gardeners of the Palace of Versailles were all waiting for them. We faced the mob armed only with the tools of our labors: shovels, spades, sickles and shears meant for pruning dead or dying leaves and branches from flowers and trees. We assembled to defend with our lives our life’s work: the plants and trees which for two hundred years had travelled to us from the far corners of the earth, and which we had so tenderly coaxed to adapt and thrive in the French soil and climate.
A woman with wrath in her eyes stepped out of the crowd. 'Move aside,' she bellowed. 'These gardens belong to the people, now.'
'Madam,' I said, taking a step forward as well. 'These gardens have always belonged to the people. They provide beauty for our pleasure as well as nourishment and medicine for our health. For 120 years, the products of the Versailles gardens have graced the King’s table and cured his ills. Destroy them and you destroy the means by which we may now help you to feed and care for your hungry children.'
An eerie hush fell upon the crowd. All that could be heard was the whisper of the pre-dawn winds through the trees and bushes of the vast gardens of Versailles. I gripped my ax; my heart raced as blood rushed to my pounding temples. It was the longest moment of my life. Finally, I heard hope rise from deep within the crowd. I heard the words that I knew would save the gardens, the words that would allow me to breathe again. I heard the words that would mean salvation for the botanical wonders of the Versailles Palace.
'Long Live the King’s Garden!' someone shouted. 'Long Live the Garden of Plants!' cried another, changing the name of the garden to make it acceptable to the people. And then it grew, little by little until it was a resounding chorus: 'Vive le Jardin des Plantes! Long Live the Garden of Plants!'

And all at once, the chant shifted again. 'To Paris!' the women cried. And as they retreated, the gardens were flooded with the first light of a new dawn. The inheritance of two centuries of the blood and sweat of French plant hunters, botanists, and gardeners was saved, and it glowed in gratitude to those of us who had defended it."

*****
Excerpted from the Time Traveler Paris Tours: Long Live the King's Garden, by Sarah B. Towle (copyright 2009), expected launch date: March 2010.

Images:
Versailles, the Chateau, exterior facade, views from southwest, Google Earth, courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.

Triumph of the Parisian Army and the People, from http://chnm.gmu.edu/revolution/d/230/.

Portrait of Antoine-Laurent de Jussieu, nephew of the de Jussieu brothers, Galerie des naturalistes de J. Pizzetta, Ed. Hennuyer, 1893, courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.

What's in a Name? - The de Jussieu Brothers

Once upon a time there were three French brothers: Antoine, Bernard, and Joseph de Jussieu. Sons of a reputable apothecary, they all studied to be doctors at a time when medical science was based on curing physical ailments and disease with the use of herbs and plants. Indeed, the brothers’ interest in the discovery and cultivation of healing plants led them each, in turn, to the study of natural science. Today, they are celebrated in France as among Europe’s earliest botanists. Their legacy still abounds on a springtime visit to the Versailles gardens or to Paris' Jardin de Plantes.

Antoine, the eldest, became director of the King’s Garden in Paris in 1708, a few years before the death of King Louis XIV. Louis XV, who succeeded his grandfather to the throne at the tender age of five, cared little for the garden for many years. It fell on hard times then, with Antoine keeping it going out of his own pocket. Once, he even carried two small cedars back from England in his hat, unable to afford proper transport. These hardy trees continue to survive today and are among the tallest, if not the oldest, trees in the garden now known as the Jardin de Plantes.

Bernard came to Paris in 1722 at the invitation of his brother. Antoine needed competent and trustworthy help and Bernard, after taking his medical degree at Montpellier University, found he could not stand the sight of blood. Working with plants was much more to his liking.

As he came of age, so did King Louis XV, and so, too, did the age of Enlightenment and the development of scienctific inquiry. Louis XV hired Bernard away to Versailles to create a botanical garden at the Grand Trianon. Bernard filled the garden with exotic flowers and plants, such as the heliotrope, which his brother, Joseph, sent to him from Peru.

Joseph was the most adventuresome of the three brothers. In 1735, when King Louis XV extended him an invitation to join “the greatest scientific expedition the world has ever known”, Joseph jumped on it. The expedition, led by Charles Marie de la Condamine, sailed to Peru to measure the arc of the earth’s meridian in an attempt to prove the greatest question of the day: What was the true size and shape of the planet earth? The team of eight astrologers, engineers, mathematicians, and map-makers that Joseph accompanied spent 10 arduous years substantiating the theories of young Isaac Newton.

Perhaps Joseph would have made a different choice had he known he’d be gone from France for 36 years. He returned to Paris in 1771, at the age of 74, physically broken and having lost his mind. But during his time in Peru he made many important discoveries for France, all of which found their place in the King’s Garden:

In addition to the heliotrope, he confirmed that the bark of the cinchona tree furnished a tonic called quinine, capable of reducing high fever. This would become an important substance in curing malaria.

He also discovered that the coca shrub, whose leaves he observed the Indians chewing with obvious enjoyment, created a strong analgesic able to cure pain. He called this substance, cocaine.

Finally, he sent back notes on a plant found in the Amazon jungle by La Condamine that he was certain would be of commercial importance. The plant produced a remarkably elastic resin that was impervious to moisture. When fresh, it could be molded to any shape – bottle, bowl, or boot – that, when dry, did not break. Once back in French hands, the plant, called “rubber”, helped to spark the Industrial Revolution.

Meanwhile, back at Versailles, Bernard was arranging all the plants in the garden of the Grand Trianon according to his own scheme of plant classification. His 1759 improvements on the existing system, developed by Swedish botanist and contemporary Carl Linneaus, sorted natural organisms by both “genus” (generic name) and “family” (specific member within a genus) using universal Latinate names. Even today, Bernard's system of binomial nomenclature remains in international use much as he conceived it. Though a breakthrough for the field of natural science at the time, Bernard was a retiring, humble man not inclined to publish his ideas. He would leave it to his nephew, Antoine-Laurent, another celebrated de Jussieu botanist, to make his classification system known to the world.

Today, the de Jussieu brothers are remembered in a few quiet ways: They are the namesake of both a Sorbonne University campus as well as its neighboring Paris Metro station. Also, on July 26, 1998, the main-belt Asteroid 9470 Jussieu was named in honor of the three French brothers.

***

For more on the Versailles and Paris gardens, the "greatest scientific expedition the world has ever known", and the de Jussieu brothers, stay tuned for the Time Traveler Paris Tours: Love Live the King's Garden! Coming out soon...

Sources:

Duval, Marguerite. The King’s Garden. Charlottesville: University of VA: 1982. Translated from the original, La planete des fluers, 1977, by Annette Tomarken & Claudine Cowen.

http://httpyavww.knight.org/cathen/08569a.htm

www.wikipedia.com

Images:
Image of Bernard de Jussieu courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.

Photograph of the Jardins de Plants in Paris by Benh, courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.

Painting of a young Issac Newton by Godfrey Kneller, courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.

Photograph of Cinchona plant courtesy of the United States Geological Survey and Wikimedia Commons.

Photograph of tapped Rubber tree courtesty of Wikimedia Commons.

Photograph of Heliotrope by http://www.nga.gov/feature/sculpturegarden/plantings/summer/images/heliotrope-fs.jpg

Mother Goose was a Frenchman!

Yesterday was one of those rare winter days in Paris when the clouds part and the sun reaches down with its warm, golden rays to brush the months of grey, damp weather off your cheeks. It was the kind of day that reassures you that hope is alive because, indeed, spring will come again; the kind of day when I can’t help but grab my husband and my bike and go to the Chateau de Versailles.

We maneuver the bikes onto the RER-C and hop off at Versailles Rive-Gauche. We turn right out of the station and follow the road to the top of the hill and the double-wide Ave de Paris, which dates back to the reign of Louis XIV. Turning left, you immediately see the sprawling Chateau de Versailles before you; as you get closer, you see as well the rows of tour buses and crowds of tourists queuing up to buy Chateau tickets. But we know better.

We follow the road to the left, then to the right, then to the left again, down a hill, and turn right at the light, all the time circumnavigating the Chateau edifice. We pass between the Orangerie and the Swiss pool; we ride the length of the bosquéts (groves) installed by Le Notre in the late 17th century. When we reach the first grand wrought-iron-and-gilt gate that is open to the public, we cross into the 2,000-acre Versailles Park that extends beyond the splendid palace of the Sun King and his successors.

From here one can ride and ride, looping around the four arms of the Grand Canal to the Grand Trianon to the Petit Trianon and back toward the Chateau again without having to stop at a traffic light or travel the same route twice. At the base of the formal gardens, we lock up our bikes. From here, we choose an area of Le Notre’s creation to explore, preferably one we’ve never seen before: yesterday we wandered the avenues and groves of the south Garden.

From the Apollo Fountain, we cut diagonally through the Colonnade Grove and followed the Bacchus and Saturn Avenues with their whimsical fountain sculptures until we reached the Queen’s Grove. There, we learned from a plaque that this grove was not constructed by Le Notre at all, but had been replanted in 1775-76, replacing a “famous Labyrinth depicting 39 Aesop’s fables following an idea by Charles Perrault, the author of Mother Goose stories”.

Did you know Mother Goose was a Frenchman? I didn’t. But it’s true!

In 1697, Charles Perrault published Histoires ou contes du temps passé, avec des moralitiés: Les contes de ma mère l'oie (Stories or Tales from Time Past, with Morals: The Stories of my Mother the Goose). He did not invent the stories. Cinderella, Little Red Riding Hood, Sleeping Beauty, Puss-in-Boots – these had a long oral tradition, passing from generation to generation among the French common folk. What Perrault did was to elevate his characters from the cottage to the Palace and dress them in fine clothes to give them a new audience, the Versailles Court, while letting the simplicity of the morals speak for themselves. In so doing, he laid down the foundations for a new type of literary genre, one that continues to endure the world over today: it's called, the Fairy Tale.

Sources:
Perrault, Charles. The Complete Fairy Tales of Charles Perrault. With Sally Holmes, Neil Philip, and Nicoletta Simborowski. New York, Clarion Books: 1993.

http://www.chateau-de-versailles.fr/en/

Images:
Map of Versailles in 1789 from William R Shepherd's Historical Atlas.

Illustration from Perrault’s Mother Goose Stories by Gustave Doré (1832-1883), French artist, engraver, illustrator and sculptor.

Charles Perrault, by Philippe Lallemand (1636–1716), French portrait painter.