It would crass to make jokes about perhaps the greatest
art collection in the world, wouldn’t it?
Something like, “Louvre – French for OMG, who are all these people?” Or “Nobody goes to the Louvre
anymore. It’s too crowded!” So I won’t.
But, OMG, who are all these people? And where did they come from? The wait just to get to the ticket booth was 45 minutes and
then the real traffic jam began.
The Louvre is unimaginably large so most people head for what they have
come to see; top honors go to Leonardo’s “Mona Lisa” and “The Captive,” a marble statue by
Michelangelo. They are both in the
same area and the congestion is unreal.
Once you get through the crush things begin to open up. The map of the museum isn’t very
clear to the first- (or second-, or third-) time visitor so you always feel a
little lost. Not a bad place to be
lost, unless you have limited time and a lot to see. Despite the number of English speaking visitors – or
non-French speakers – very few of the labels are in English. Large tour groups always seem to be in
the way and for some reason people feel they must have their photo taken
standing directly in front of the most famous works.
The art, of course, is spectacular! What more can one say?
It didn’t take long for my brain to experience sensory overload. My back and feet gave out soon
after. And, yes, Alan and Diana,
this is art I could understand. I
knew the Biblical stories (some of them anyway) and the Greek myths. I could recognize human subjects that
looked heroically human. And there
were too many breasts to count!
