Daydream Destination: Oceanographic Museum of Monaco (Part I)

I will be honest right off the bat. I didn't really want to go to Monaco. I heard it was overrated and touristy, but sometimes you just have to see for yourself. 

Now that I have been, I can't really disagree with the touristy bit, but I was so glad my family and I made the trip. We had a really fun experience and one reason for that was the Oceanographic Museum of Monaco. It's part museum and part aquarium and gorgeous rooftop views over Monaco and the sea.

As someone who loves both history and sea creatures (I wanted to to be a marine biologist when I was little), I found it completely enchanting. There were also some surprises.

"Planet" welcomes you to the Oceanographic Museum

The first surprise, perhaps, was Marc Quinn's giant baby statue, "Planet." The photo above does not do it's size justice. It's massive.

Once inside, another work by Marc Quinn, a beautiful golden shell titled "The Origin of the World," greeted us. We decided to downstairs to the aquarium first where I immediately became like a kid in a candy shop.

I was wide-eyed and amazed.

So much variety. So much color.

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Dreamy, beautiful, and otherworldly 

And some quiet types that like to blend in.

The little guys below were my favorites. They mimic sea grass and sway ever so slightly in the water, waiting for good stuff to float by. I stood there mesmerized for a very long time watching them do their thing. Admittedly, "their thing" isn't much, but I found them strangely adorable and completely fascinating. 

And then there was stuff of nightmares. . .

Like a pot FULL OF EELS.

Or an eel so big that he wrapped around the entire tank. Little bits of his body could be seen peeking out from the rock formations. 

Those little spidery lobster looking things are cleaner shrimp. They help clean the eels by eating parasites on their bodies, even going so far as to venture inside their mouths. The eels, in turn, don't eat the shrimp. I hesitate to call it sweet, so I will call it a nice example of symbiosis.

That eel's got a body that doesn't quit. 

Or how about a Stone Fish that will kill you if you touch it? 

I had no clue this was a fish when I first walked up beside my mom at the tank. He was further back amidst a number of other ugly rocks.

She started to explain to me that the one ugly rock was, in fact, a fish. I was having none of it. I reached out and pointed at him when, suddenly, he charged toward my outstretched finger with that frowning mouth of his open and ready for lunch. 

I believed her after that. 

Bonus:  there's another Rock Fish right next to him the in picture. Sneaky little death fish. Amazing, but sneaky.

We spent a long time in the aquarium, but there was still a whole museum left to explore. I'll leave the rest for part two.

I know the blog has seemed quiet, but I've been fairly busy and productive behind the scenes. I (finally!) finished researching and writing the Versailles Vignette Guide. I am now in the revision phase! I'm expecting to find some surprises along the way after all of the starting and stopping, but I'm really excited to get this bad boy finished and release it into the world!

I also started writing for the Get Inspired section of the website and have been working on a page for Villefranche-sur-Mer, a beautiful village on France's Cotê d'Azur.

Things are moving along!

History Love: Pet Bears and a Secret Room

I usually get excited about March. I know there are going to be some cold days and some snow, but we're bordering on cruel here in Ontario. In like a lion and out like a lion. 

Cozied up with a tea, blanket, and interesting history. Is there anything better in winter?

Cozied up with a tea, blanket, and interesting history. Is there anything better in winter?

In other news, I've been poring over Anne Somerset's The Affair of the Poisons:  Murder, Infanticide & Satanism at the Court of Louis XIV  (with a title like that how can I not read it?!) for awhile. I'm doing some final research for the last few rooms of my Versailles guide. I can go down the research rabbit hole with a little too much gusto! This one has been an especially deep rabbit hole. 

The book is about the famed Affair of the Poisons that swept through Paris and Versailles in the late 1600s. It began with a case involving the Marquise de Brinvilliers. She and her lover, an army captain named Godin de Saint-Croix, poisoned her father and brothers so they could secure the family fortune and estates. Eventually they were caught, put on trial, interrogated, tortured, and put to death. 

Portrait of Catherine Montvoisin, aka la Voisin via Wikimedia Commons

The Brinvilliers case, however, was just the beginning. Further investigations revealed what seemed to be a whole poisoning network that penetrated into the upper echelons of society. Even King Louis XIV's mistress, Madame de Montespan, was implicated in visiting the infamous accused poisoner and "divineress" called la Voisin in a desperate attempt to win back the favour of the King.

It was salacious, it was scary, and it gripped the court at Versailles. At least until the next big thing came along. But it's another story for another day. 

Way to leave you hanging, huh? What I want to share today is a strange tidbit from the book that stuck with me. 

Portrait of Madame de Montespan (1640-1707) via Wikimedia Commons

The basic backstory is that Louis XIV's mistress Athénaïs de Montespan was no longer his favourite. She, naturally, wasn't very happy about this and contributed to rising tension between the lovers which didn't really help rekindle the romance.

Meanwhile, Louis XIV began another affair with a woman named Marie-Angélique de Scorailles, aka Madamoiselle de Fontanges. Louis tried to hide it, especially from Athénaïs, but his attempt at secrecy backfired spectacularly. 

Here's what Somerset writes: 

The King was said to be frantically in love with Mlle de Fontanges but he took great pains to conceal it. In public he took no notice of her, reserving his affection for their private meetings. To ensure these went undetected, a small suite of rooms was constructed for Mlle de Fontanges above the King's bedroom at Saint-Germain, connected by a hidden staircase. Few people were aware of this until, bizarrely, two pet bears belonging to Mme de Montespan found the door open and 'avenged their mistress' by devastating the apartment. 

I don't know about you, but that might be one of my favourite historical images. One mistress's bears destroying the other secret mistress's secret apartment. It's just so wonderfully "fact is stranger than fiction."

Engraved portrait of Marie Angélique de Scoraille de Roussille, duchesse de Fontanges (1661-1681) via Wikimedia Commons

I know it was somewhat common for aristocrats to have exotic animals, but it doesn't help my modern mind from having so many unanswered questions. In stream of consciousness style here are a few:  Bears?!? Why and how did she have pet bears? (Sidenote:  Don't Google image search pet bears. Depressing.) How did they live day to day? Like pet dogs but. . .bears? Who took care of them? Why did she even want them? Were they a gift? What kind of gift is a bear? Why were these bears just wandering around unescorted long enough to find a secret room and destroy it? If bears could find this room, how secret was it really? Is this story even true?

Just so, so many questions. Hopefully I'll find some time to look into it further and update at a later date.

I just hope that it gave you a little interesting diversion from the winter doldrums that it gave me.

Nights at the Louvre

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Paris glows at night. In its small back streets the yellow street lights warm old stone, but the stone itself always seems luminous to me. Tiny bars and restaurants fill to the seams. Patrons place orders for long, lazy evenings of food and wine and conversation. 

The city, so bustling during the day, feels like it contracts. It becomes intimate. The change is enchanting. 

So when my boyfriend and I were in Paris for a week last September, it didn't take long for us to make after-dinner walks to the Louvre a routine. It was a nice distance from our apartment on Place des Victoires. We had nowhere to be, no schedule, and contented bellies full of food and wine. That is the basic recipe for a stroll. Yes, we strolled.

Sometimes there would be a handful of other people milling about the courtyard. Men sold trinkets and helicopter toys that whizzed into the air with madly blinking lights. Tourists stopped for a few quick pictures before moving on to their next destination. Rats scavenged for food on the lawn of Tuileries and nearly scared me into the trees (I'd never seen a rat that big before, ok? It wouldn't be the last, either).

It always felt like the Louvre was ours for a few small, simple moments.

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Our slice of Paris at night. It felt so big, so magnificent and yet so close, so welcoming. Is it cliche? Sure. But that never made it any less wonderful.