Hôtel de Ville’s statue of Étienne Marcel, a Paris government official whose life, according to Wikipedia, “came to a sticky end, lynched in 1358 by an angry mob after trying to assert the city’s powers a little too energetically.” Apparently it was the right amount of energy, though, to have a statue erected in his honor.

Corner detail in Versailles.

A gargoyle overlooks Paris from his Norte Dame perch.

Hôtel de Ville at night. Not quite as cool as this one, but whatever.

This was my favorite area in Versailles’ Palace. The whole place spews grandiosity; this part, despite being built with what would likely be considered luxury finishes during the time it was built, is relatively simple and understated. It reminds me of the fantastic foyer and floor in the finished house from the movie The Money Pit.

The Arc du Triomphe was significantly larger than I expected. It looks somewhat unremarkable from a distance, but up close, it is massive yet intricate. Its symmetry is mesmerizing. This is also a bit of a tribute to Devyn Caldwell, who took a gorgeous pair (still among my all-time favorites) of photos [ 1, 2] of Manhattan’s Washington Square Arch (itself a tribute to the Arc de Triomphe).

One of my favorite shots of all time. See a full-size version here (8MB).

For the sake of maintaining the tenets of photoblogging, here are some of its metadata:

Camera: Canon EOS Digital Rebel XSi
Lens: Canon EF-S 18-55mm f/3.5-5.6 IS
Focal Length: 42mm
Exposure: 2 sec at f/9.0
ISO: 400
Flash: Did not fire
Capture Time: 13 Nov 2009 18:59:26

Perhaps we’re just obtuse, but in our two visits, Abbie and I have spent more time outside the Louvre admiring its architecture than we have inside admiring the art it houses. Its symmetry is stunning.

The architectural detail on some buildings in Paris is mind-blowing. It was one of my favorite things about visiting Paris.

The oblong spiral staircase leading up to our studio in Paris was really neat. At each landing, to practice our extensive knowledge of French language, we’d announce the floor: “un, deux, trois, quatre…” and so on. Actually, that was it. Four floors. But, for us lazy Americans, it felt like 15. Fifteen real floors would have been rough, though, largely because we could really only count to four.