All good adventures start with a palace and a princess; all good J00ster posts start with the gratuitous use of parallel structure to try to fill up the gaping white holes between generic holiday snaps.
Tour de France 2010 kicks off in the lavish halls of the Palace of Versailles. Actually it kicks off outside on the forecourt when Rock spies an opportunity to associate himself with some royal street cred, courtesy of the Sun King himself, King Louis the XIV.
Mei can't understand why this pad hasn't shown up on the NY Times recently reduced price list yet. After all, the Euro fell another couple of percent in the time it took to strike up the perfect pose.
The original Golden Gate. This one's actually golden. And it's a gate. Funny that.
The ultimate endorsement. Only the world's greatest sights are worthy of the loftiest accolade - the J00ster Jump (tm). This one is especially hard won; it takes a lot of to get this kind of elevation when you haven't slept for 18 hours, courtesy of a Continental flight that decided to operate on French public servant time.
Someone seems a little out of place in such surroundings. Must be because they only work 35 hour here. Yes, that's definitely it...
...it has nothing to do with all that marble and gold and priceless works of art.
Rock scopes out potential alcoves for his marble likeness. In between L'Hopital and Descartes will do nicely, merci.
Either Rock has spotted a well-stocked royal pantry across the way, or he's taken a sudden interest in the finer points of 17th century lamp design.
My my sir, your epee appears to be missing a grubscrew. Yellow card!
Mei fails to demonstrate appropriate gravitas in the presence of an intellectual giant. What a grim place the world would be if we couldn't evaluate the limit as x tends to c of f(x) / g(x).
Does my ass look fat in this season's petticoat? The fact we nearly had to rope in the royal landscape artist to do this portrait means nothing, nothing at all.
It's pretty safe to say the lavish Hall of Mirrors has seen better reflections in its 300 years. Then again, if you've checked out the portraits of the Louis line-up, maybe not.
The best way to resolve the perennial conundrum of fitting a Manhattan shoe collection into a Manhattan apartment is to purchase a rather large palace, complete with 800 hectare estate.
If you're going to bankrupt the nation you might as well do it in style, by buying lots of golden statues of naked babes for example. The alternative is to join a contrived currency union so that some banana republic down south can drag you down the drain with it. I think I'll go with the golden chicks.
If it's not gold, it... probably should be sent to England.
And you thought sparing no expense was a phrase invented to describe Mei's J.Crew account.
First glimpse of the famous gardens. This being a travel blog, it most certainly won't be the last.
No matter how many mistresses you have, this wing is surely a little bit excessive? And you wonder why the peasants seem a little irritable as they send your head and body in opposite directions.
Rock's attempts to find a shortcut to the palace kitchen are thwarted again. Servants just aren't what they used to be.
French classical garden technique dictates that nary a blade of grass shall be out of place, although exceptions are made when those barbarians from across the channel bumble through.
It's always sobering when you realize your entire apartment could be comfortably accommodated in the servants quarters.
And to think this is just the side garden. Life was tough in the days before ride-on mowers.
Too bad about that annoying revolution. This is a lifestyle one could get used to.
Even the flower pots are works of art. Just wait till you see the royal toilet.
Nope, still can't fit the whole thing in frame.
A sight fit for a king. Assuming his head is still attached.
We can use this convenient sun dial to see if it's time for Provencial confit of duck yet. Yep, thought so.
It's a bit of a worry when you're on day 1 of 10 and the commentary is already running out of steam. Let's liven things up with some more generic scenery shots. Should keep the masses entertained until the decapitation machine fires up.
Wrong continent, wrong century, wrong Rocky.
On that note, it's time to drop the guillotine on day 1. Next stop, the City of Lights.
