Rosa’s Bataille Heroique

What do you hang next to the Mona Lisa? Because of renovations to its regular salon, today Leonardo’s painting is displayed next to Salvator Rosa’s ‘Passage’ and ‘Bataille Heroique’. Who is Salvator Rosa, anyway? I felt flippantly sorry for these paintings: having to endure either an endless neglect or a glance begot only by the oblivious queuing lines and the art history student with an obscure thesis topic. After spending only slightly longer than the appropriate time gazing at the smirking lady and her smooth cracking hands, I stood to one side to watch everyone photograph the Mona Lisa. In some ways, this was more exciting than the painting itself: Mona effortlessly commands a flurry of faithful international fans. She is a tourist monument of immeasurable proportions housed in a slightly smaller than expected frame. But other than the latter fact, what real incentive is there to take her picture? Have you not seen her enough times already? Do you really require one more out-of-focus and poorly lit picture with your thumbprint? Perhaps your friends won’t believe that you have seen her and need some documentary proof? I wonder if Mona ever tires of the endless attention and glances begot only by the oblivious queuing lines and the foreign visitor with an obscure tendency to personify paintings.

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The Christian dormitory, the Maison St. Therese, is the only budget accommodation available during the off season after Christmas in Lourdes, a pilgrimage at the feet of the Pyrenees. I noticed during the walk from the tourist office after my unplanned arrival that the small streets were tight with closed hotels and hibernating businesses. I was helpfully welcomed at the budget dormitory by Otilia, one of the organizers and Laetitia, who was a temporary volunteer. With breakfast and dinner included, the place would provide one of the better lodging experiences during my time in France.

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Roman Arena, Nimes

I found myself discussing books and travel on a train to Nimes with a computer scientist named Sebastian and a woman reading a French translation of a Carl Jung book: I was once again in the south of France. I had returned after two weeks, one spent in Kettering enjoying familiar company, too much Christmas food and the jumping enthusiasm of a black lab named Juno. The other week I spent in London visiting exhibitions at the National Gallery, Serpentine Gallery and Kenwood House. I remember in particular the Impressionist show at Somerset House which featured Manet’s ‘A Bar at the Folies-Bergers’, among many Monets, Van Goghs and Cezannes. I spent New Year’s eve in the heart of London and its chaotic crowds with two strangers.

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