Estimated reading time: 1 minutes — Second Life, and any online virtual community like it, can be a social lifeline to those who may be more isolated, marginalized or cut off in real life. There is a lot said these days about how virtual life is causing us to interact with each other less…but few […]
Estimated reading time: 2 minutes —
On Sunday May 3 I was lucky to get to host a Jane’s Walk through Historic Provence. The Coeur region has always been a favorite of mine, precisely because of it’s never ending scenic roads. Like a character in an 18th century French novel, you wend your way through the charming woods of Provence and then onto fine gravel paths leading past garden stores and cozy Inns to the Queen’s Hamlet – the place where Her Majesty gets away from the riff raff of the city, to a haven where she may consume dainty little cakes in peace and quiet, while not getting the plague.
Pearl Grey and FeelsEmpty joined for the mission. We met in the woods of Provence, where we stealthily turned south – away from La Conciergerie – in the direction of Le Petit Triannon herself (where I knew there would be huge plates of petits-fours and other snackables).
The weather was fair and mild, and the flowers smelled sweet. Every so often in Coeur, you’ll run into a wayfarer on the road, someone who claims to be of noble blood, or a Prussian cavalry doctor recalling dark trials during the Silesian Wars. Pastoral grasses lead to pretty ponds with ducks and swans, reminding you you’re safe in France, among Royalty and those who serve Them.
Before breaking into Le Chateau, I had to show them the conservatoire – one of my top five favorite places in SL. There, we tried out various instruments and reveled in the trompe l’oeil. There ensued a provocative conversation about social strife spanning the ages as Feels strummed the harp.
Fortified by music – the food of love – but still plenty hungry, we fanned out across the “Tuileries” toward Her Majesty’s fun-fort, guided by the scent of fine crumpets. We scampered around the perfectly manicured hedges, doing zig zags toward the house, just in case some guards with muskets were waiting for us (“If anyone speaks to you just say you’re delivering beignets.”).
But once inside, the parquet halls were emptier than a ghost town. Did we miss something exciting? The soup on the tables was still hot. Plates of petits-fours were virtually waiting to be eaten. We gorged. Could this really be called a walk?
Walking from Provence to Le Petit Triannon took about 15 minutes with a bit of stopping and starting. But then, all-in-all, we spent 2 hours on the sim, mostly in the conservatoire or the house, partaking in their offerings while shaking our fists in limp rebellion. Next time, we march!