It was magical! I met my stranger in alluring Versailles. We had Mcdonalds for lunch. Familiar fries and burgers in a curious, but strangly consoling setting. I wasn't full, but there wasn't enough money. Then we strolled slowly through the old lazy town, the heavy mist shielding us from the harsh reflection from the snow on the sidewalk. Towards the Chateau de Versailles.



The garden. At first sight, it looked like a picture. Sprawling grounds of immaculately pruned bushes, forming a plastic accessory to the proud palace. But as you start breathing again, the painting, with the energy of its brush strokes, and the vibrancy of its colours, starts to wriggle into your skin. After that, it becomes real.



My stranger and I wandered aimlessly. Not quite aimlessly. We tried to delve deep into the spells and enchantment of the forests, getting lost and being buried. It seems that we'll never be sensitised to the exquisite beauty of the fountains, statues and trees. It was frigid, but I was kept comfortable by the ticklish tingle from my fingertips to my toes, by the occasional brush of his arm on mine. The quiet tree-lined path went on and on, pandering to our need for isolation.



Unfortunately, the sun sets here like everywhere else. With waning adrenaline levels and leftover cheese crackers from the plane, we brushed off the snow and sat on the marble steps. He said "We're surrounded by sheer opulence." His beauty is a part of me. Before I became sober, I heard the nascent moon whisper hope of our new acquaintanceship.



Nobody would deny the charm of Versailles, but not everyone is lucky enough to feel its magic.