“Valérie? Stéphane here. I’ll be bringing a VIP to the Queen’s Private Apartment. Just ignore the alarms.”
I’m a VIP? Oh my gosh! I’m a VIP!
Stéphane hung up, and we were off. We darted through the Château de Versailles, slipping behind burgundy velvet ropes and ascending marble staircases. Head of security at the Château, Stéphane gained access to secured areas by keypad, but he just as often whipped out one of the dozens of skeleton keys that hung from the jangly keychain on his hip. A little jittery, my interior prattle was steady. How can this be real? I feel like I’m in a movie. Stéphane always walks so fast.
Over the years, he had kindly given me many private tours of the Château. I’d stood alone in the Royal Opera and gazed down on the Royal Chapel from Madame de Maintenon’s oratory. Away from the crowds in the echoey palace, I’d experienced the silence of Versailles. Though I couldn’t quite conjure the people who had lived here, I could inhabit the space and remember that this overcrowded museum once was a home.
I had booked this France trip with a specific goal—to visit the library of Queen Marie Antoinette. For four years, I had been obsessed with this room. I’d discovered that it played a role in eighteenth-century French tea culture, so I read, reflected, wrote, lectured, and published about its history—all without ever setting foot in the room.
Nervous energy welled up in my chest as Stéphane and I approached the library. We stepped into a small room that served as an overflow area. The books were stored on shelves behind glass. Though there was a chandelier hanging from the ceiling, the room remained dim. I followed Stéphane across the worn parquet floor. He opened the cream-colored door. I placed my hand on my chest, feeling my heart race, and entered Marie Antoinette’s library.
I took stock. Two windows to my right, overlooking the interior courtyard. I had noted this in my article. High ceilings. Another chandelier, parquet floors again. There’s no fireplace. How many people have passed through this room?
As I made my way around the perimeter of the library, I ran my fingertips along the hip-high marble shelf that separated the upper and lower bookcases. The air was cool, yet stuffy. Do they air it out on Mondays when the museum is closed?
I turned to Stéphane. “How many tourists visit the Queen’s Private Apartment in a month?”
“It’s been closed for restoration for almost a decade. Once it reopens, we’ll welcome a few dozen visitors per month. We need to protect the site.”
I placed myself in the center of the library and took a deep breath. Prior to Marie Antoinette’s rein, this room was Queen Marie Leczinska’s “Laboratory” where she painted, entertained friends, made music, and sipped tea. I imagined the Queen and her ladies in waiting. In her time, the walls were adorned with panels depicting Chinese life, painted by the queen herself. She had decorated the room with chairs covered in sumptuous moiré and chintz fabrics. There had also been a Greek-inspired stool and painted curtains representing a Chinese landscape. When she died, the “Laboratory” was dismantled, its contents dispersed.
As I stood in the Queens’ library/laboratory, the centuries unfolded like an accordion. I was in Marie Leczinska’s orientalist universe, surrounded by the quiet chatter of her courtiers. I felt them sharing tea and stories. Leather-bound books from the royal collection lined the walls. While Marie Antoinette favored music and theater over reading, she nonetheless owned close to two thousand volumes. Had I been daring, I could have opened a cabinet and run my fingers along the spines of works by her contemporaries Voltaire, Rousseau, and Beaumarchais. As I drifted through the eighteenth century, I was also firmly planted in my own century, clad in a green linen jacket and Veja tennis shoes.
My rumbling tummy broke the spell, and the centuries reorganized themselves in my mind. I took a few pictures of the library, recording it in my iPhone. Years of research and reflection had already imprinted it on my soul. My quest complete, it was time to treat Stéphane to lunch at the brasserie down the street.
Like many of you, I am beginning my sixth week of extreme social distancing. My work life, social life, and family life have all moved online. I am very happy to maintain my connections with students, friends and family. My advanced literature course has turned into a fabulous Zoom book club discussing Zola’s Le Ventre de Paris (The Belly of Paris). And raucous family happy hours (“cocktail hour” as Mom calls it) launch me into each weekend.
In the realm of space, your life is nothing but the lively energy of life, interconnecting with everything.
[DECEMBER 2018 NOTE: The Rabbit Hole’s Redfern location will close after December 23, 2018, but Barangaroo location will still be open.]
T Totaler is a homegrown tea business, focusing on Australian grown teas and botanicals. Founded in 2012, Amber and Paul Sunderland make custom tea blends for restaurants, develop tea-based “mocktails”, and teach workshops. At their Newtown tea bar, I sampled a dazzling Teagroni, an iced White Peony tea with rose petals, and a hot Australian grown Sencha with coconut and lemon myrtle. Each one was perfect in its own way, and the tea bar’s decor was charmingly cozy with fiddle leaf figs and apothecary jars. Since my visit, T Totaler has opened a second location in the center of Sydney, which is now their primary location.
One of Sydney’s favorite dumpling restaurants, Lotus The Galeries also features a range of teas. I had the privilege and pleasure of sharing dumplings and tea cocktails with Sydney’s own teagramming sisters Neha and Smruthi. This charming and generous sister team marries the art of tea with the art of cocktails on their 
Sydney’s innovative and cutting edge tea scene also leaves room for traditional afternoon tea that showcases high end teas and fine pastries incorporating local ingredients. I spent a leisurely and luxurious afternoon at the Langham Sydney. This afternoon teatime is perhaps the most perfect I’ve ever experienced—attentive service, perfectly-infused teas, delightful savories and sweets, a cozy armchair. The pink champagne enhanced my languorous afternoon! I was able to sample a number of teas—a subtle Orange blossom tea, a creamy black Assam, and a white tea with melon. The scones were warm and crumbly, and other sweets were graced with an Australian touch: a hibiscus and guava tart and a cherry lamington. The savories were traditional and spot on: a curried free range egg finger sandwich as well as a prawn, shallot and dill finger sandwich.
Although there is much to be done in the coming days, I am taking a hygge day—choral Christmas music, ginger spice candle, fuzzy clothes, baking,and tea…
My former student and friend Maggie Heine of Louisville, Kentucky kindly agreed to contribute to Creative Sanctuary this month. Her thoughtful piece celebrates autumn, rooibos, and wanderlust. Thank you, sweet Maggie!
My friend Sahar is a cardamom tea connoisseur. Milky and minty with a bold cardamom profile, her morning sips are robust and comforting.