Spanish people don't like French people. That's a fact. For instance, the other night when I asked a Spaniard what he would do if a Frenchman walked into the bar, he immediately put his hands against his neck and began making slashing motions.
Meanwhile, Americans share a similar perception. To us, the French are nothing but a bunch of stinky, war-surrendering, cheese-mongering, fancy pants snooty-snoots. Are the stereotypes true? I ventured to Paris last weekend to find out just how smelly these Frenchies really are.
As it turns out, they're pretty smelly. I also noticed they ate plenty of cheese, rocked some flashy leg-wear and didn't appear to be winning any wars. So from my perspective, the stereotypes are on the money. But hey, let's give credit where credit is due: France has some pretty ballin' museums.
I'm still not sure whether the Louvre is a museum or a megalopolis, but either way, it's a pretty cool place. Our lengthy tour through the building - which as far as I could tell, began in Paris, looped around Eastern Europe and swung back up toward Paris via Italy - included a stunning array of old weathered statues, old weathered tools and old weathered caretakers. But out of all the 21,000 rooms we visited, nothing could compare to the room boasting the single most miraculous piece of human creation the world has ever beheld: the Mona Lisa.\nMy description of this sublime work of art shall be futile, for I dare say no mere words can truly do justice to such an awe-inspiring piece. Upon seeing that dazzling face, my life was changed forever. Was she smiling? Frowning? Eating a sandwich? Making a goofy-face? I simply couldn't tell - mostly, of course, because I was squinting at the surprisingly small painting from a distance of about 30 feet, all the while being trampled by clamoring hordes of camera-brandishing Asians. But even from my distant vantage point, I could see the tranquil, yet foreboding natural backdrop of the work conjured by the heavenly-bestowed brushstrokes of Da Vinci himself, shed light upon (or is there no light at all? One really cannot tell) the simplistic, yet deeply complex appearance of that plainly dressed, yet scantily clad babe to create a feeling of both unfettered elation and slightly more fettered fury. You know the feeling. Keep in mind, however, that: 1. I was standing quite far away and peering through the glass covering of the four-foot-long painting, and 2. I have the artistic insight of a toothpick.\nSpeaking of mind-blowing art, Versailles is full of it. When most people hear of Louise XIV's opulent abode, they think of all the sweet stuff it had back during the 17th century: tons of elaborately decorated rooms, vast gardens, a four-star golf course, three small countries, flying remote-control chariots, etc. After witnessing the place in person, however, the thing that stands out in my mind is the "ugly-people" art.
The contrast of beauty and hideousness is striking. One minute you're admiring masterfully carved marble statues and exquisite golden-leafed columns and the next you're staring at a painting of a 200-pound naked baby lounging seductively in his crib while being fed grapes by his tooth-deprived servant.
Meanwhile, the differences in character between the Spanish and the French, at least from what I observed after a mere weekend in Paris, might be summed up by my most recent encounters with taxi drivers. The three cabbies we had in Paris were soft-spoken, polite and seemingly completely unfamiliar with the English language. On the other hand, the first cab driver I had when back in Spain, upon learning my friends and I were American, exclaimed, "Ah-ha! The USA! You know Madonna? Oh yeah, Madonna! Boom, boom, boom!" This latter part was accompanied by violent hip-thrusting movements. Enough said.
I don't mean to bash France, though. In all honesty, Paris is a really incredible place and I definitely recommend checking it out someday. But when it comes to culture - and weather - I'll stick with Valencia.
Nick's column runs biweekly Tuesdays. He can be reached at n.eilerson@cavailerdaily.com.
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