Versailles was very  . . . gold . . .

. . . and big . . .

. . . and crowded . . . and therefore, a little disappointing, honestly. Granted, we were already exhausted from days of tramping around Paris fighting the hordes for elbow room at all the main tourist sights–in other words, exactly what David and I have tried to avoid until now. And I had not slept well the night before, realizing at 2:30 a.m. that I didn’t know exactly how we were supposed to get there, so I sat up in bed for an hour with my tablet on Google Maps, trying to figure it out between the metro and the RER trains. Turns out all I had to do was ask the man in the booth at the metro station right by the apartment. He sold us the correct tickets and gave me a map with the metro and train connections circled. More unnecessary hours of stressing out. I thought I was going to quit that!

When we arrived, we decided to see the palace first to “beat the crowds.” Too late. After being elbowed and shoved and coughed on and photobombed . . .

. . . for a good 40 minutes inside the palace, I said to David and Brittany, “Ugh. Let’s go outside. I’m over it.” To which Brittany dryly responded, as only Brittany can, “Over it? I’m damn near homicidal.” Yes, well. I was too, really, so out we went to admire the gardens and to try to locate Marie Antoinette’s faux peasant hamlet. We had a map of the grounds, but did I mention Versailles is BIG? BIG. We walked and walked and walked, after having turned our noses up at the lazy schmucks who were riding the goofy little train, and began to wish we’d taken it ourselves.

Nevertheless, find the hamlet we did, eventually, as well as some sandwiches for lunch, so had a bit of a breather before seeing this . . .

. . . and this . . .

. . . and this . . . .

. . . before trekking back through town to the train station, where we had a bit of drama trying to figure out the right train to Paris, along with every other tourist on the platform. As a matter of fact, they are ALL the right train to Paris, but no one seemed to understand that, even though I had been told in French, “tous les trains” and another woman I talked to had been told in English, “all the trains” go back to Paris. The problem was an announcement that the train serviced stations I didn’t recognize (but later found on the map PAST our stop, so absolutely would have taken us where we wanted to go). Whatever. After the stress-inducing announcement, we decided to bail at the last minute and I was nearly crushed in the closing door of the train. Yikes. One MORE reason to QUIT with the worrying already!!!

Now we’re back in La Rochelle, where it is maybe not quite so GOLD, but still beautiful in it’s own way . . .

. . . and very much more peaceful.

A few thoughts for you from some who HAVE figured out worrying:

. . . Do not fret — it leads only to evil. ∼Psalm 37:8

Can all your worries add a single moment to your life? ∼Matthew 6:27

“Sorrow looks back, Worry looks around, Faith looks up” ∼Ralph Waldo Emerson

Worry does not empty tomorrow of its sorrow, it empties today of its strength. ∼Corrie ten Boom

Wishing you a worry-free week!