So for pretty much the entire last week it has been rainy and gloomy in France, but it has only put a bit of a damper on things. Usually the rain is sporadic and not very heavy, though when it is heavy there’s a few minutes of a torrential downpour the likes of which my California self has never seen, with people running to crowd under a bus stop or doorway, but soon thereafter the sky clears up. Volatile much, France?

The one day where the rain was a real nuisance was the day we visited Versailles, the famed palace built on the outskirts of Paris by King Louis XIV in the 17th century. Versailles has amazingly extensive gardens and park lands that stretch for miles — miles of perfectly manicured trees and marble statues of swooning Greek gods — and that sort of thing requires leisure and sunshine. Instead we found ourselves trudging through muddy lanes amongst the dense thicket of trees, rain pouring steadily on us as we hunted for Marie Antoinette’s private chateau built some distance from the main palace. That was definitely an adventure, though I do hope to return to the Versailles grounds one day, whether on this trip or a future one, to amble along the lanes through which debaucheed and overly pampered nobles walked, blissfully unaware of the unrest growing in the rest of a a starving, seething France. Dramatic times.

I could probably go on endlessly on the subject of Versailles, Louis XIV and the French Revolution because the history has always been very fascinating to me, but I should probably move this post along. Perhaps I’ll dedicate an entire post to that subject later. For now, I’ll say that Versailles is as grand as I imagined it, and even more so. In true French baroque style, seemingly every inch of wall, ceiling, roof, floor, bed and other furniture is decorated, gilded or garnished in some fashion. Simplicity is an unknown concept at Versailles, and I’ve never seen anything quite like it. Places such as this not only exist, but once housed actual people — and more precisely, functioned as the seat of power for one person. There really is something to the idea of spectacle as political propaganda, Versailles being the eminent example.

Despite the gloomy weather I managed to visit several other “must see” places in Paris this past week. I went to the Champs de Mars, the park next to the Eiffel Tower you’re always seeing in cliched vacation pictures. I also visited Champs-Elysees, the famed shopping street that hosts stores like Louis Vuitton and apparently a Mercedes Benz store. The Champs-Elysees leads to the Arc de Triomphe, a massive structure placed in the middle of those typical Parisian roundabout roads, which had been erected by Napoleon. Truly an awe-inspiring structure. I also went to Place de la Concorde (aka the site where people were beheaded by guillotine during the French Revolution), Les Invalides (aka the site of Napoleon’s tomb, a surprisingly large one at that, and an excellent World War 1/2 exhibit) and of course, the Louvre. The Louvre is another place that is just mind-blowingly massive and ornate, as it too was once a residence of French kings. The kind woman we had met in London told us that you’d need weeks to see the entirety of the Louvre, and now I can see why. There are multiple giant wings with several floors each containing endless treasures and pieces of art. I managed to see the Mona Lisa and other Renaissance works, along with some of the Egyptian exhibits, but still feel as though I haven’t even scratched the surface. I will be coming back to the Louvre for sure.

The big exciting event to take place this week was of course Bastille Day, or la fete nationale, France’s national holiday. Every July 14 the country commemorates the day in 1789 when a group of French citizens fed up with an out of touch, ineffective monarchy and years of poor living conditions stormed the Bastille Prison, released all its (7) prisoners, and killed the prison guards, mounting their heads on pikes. This act of defiance and challenge to authority was one of the main catalysts of the French Revolution, which would ultimately see the end of true and enduring monarchical rule in the country. Naturally this comes as a source of great national pride much as the Fourth of July does in the US, though it seemed like perhaps the fact of it all was a bit of a bigger deal here. I’d say that in some ways France is less ostentatious — no one was donning the French flag or patriotic clothing or chanting obnoxious refrains (ahem) — but in some ways France is much more ostentatious. Though I didn’t go see it, there is a huge military parade down the Champs-Elysees the morning of Bastille Day which even the president attends, and which serves as a showcase of France’s military might, complete with flying planes and horses.

Of course, the crowning jewel of Bastille Day is the fireworks extravaganza that takes place by the Eiffel Tower. This I went to see in person, and it was truly the most astounding fireworks show I’ve ever seen– 40 minutes of glittering lights and the Eiffel Tower shooting out bursting balls of fire to a chorus of “oohs” and “aahs”. Truth be told I’ve never much been a fan of fireworks, but Paris knows how to put on a spectacular show. The US needs to get on France’s level when it comes to this. Another interesting tradition for Bastille Day are the firemen’s balls held around the city, which are essentially giant outdoor parties held at various fire stations the night prior to and the night of Bastille Day. Certainly here some outward displays of patriotism were exhibited with loud, boisterous singing of the national hymn and ah, well, lively partying into the wee hours of the morning.

France knows how to celebrate a national holiday, and I’m hoping I can come back again one day around this time to experience it all again. I’ve posted hundreds of pictures in my flickr gallery, so don’t forget to check that out if you’re interested!