A Small World for those who travel.

I capitalized “Small World” because today as I interviewed one of the owners of Le Peloton Cafe, which will be the basis of an article I am writing for Bicycling—“5 Things to Do When You Go to Paris for the Tour de France”—I ended up meeting a woman from Bucks County and another woman who is getting her Ph.D. at the Princeton Seminary. I am friendly with a woman named Chloe whose wife, Nicola, was the Teaching Assistant in one of this woman’s classes.

“Small world!” we both exclaimed at the same time, which, if you know Princeton, is also an inside joke.

The interview went well and then I walked to The Louvre, which is not my favorite museum in the world, but it’s high on the list. The reason, of course, is that it holds some of the greatest art works ever created, including what is, in fact, my favorite piece of art: Winged Victory of Samothrace. I wish I could go back to college just to write a paper about this sculpture.

Nike is the Greek word for Victory.

I love this statue because of the movement of the dress; you feel the ocean wind blowing around you and the goddess. Typically, I love paintings more than sculpture, but, of course, this is beloved by a lot of people, including, of course, Audrey Hepburn and Beyoncé.

Today, instead of going to see the Italian paintings, I went to parts of the Louvre that I’ve never seen (fair warning, you may have to use a computer, not a phone to see some videos.Sorry):

Four Captives. Each sculpture a country.

David and Goliath

A woman with a book and her dog. Just like me! You see the similarities, right?

I thought a lot about an old friend who is no longer with us. He didn’t travel a lot, but when he did, he either went to places in the United States or traveled on ships filled with Americans. He never met foreigners (except the ones who moved to his town). In the Louvre, even more noticeable than the art, are the people from all over the world who have come to this magical place. None of them look particularly well-off or fancy. Instead, they have saved money—and often brought their children—to show them art in another country.

Whenever I’m in these places, I think about people like Putin and Trump and al-Assad; people who are filled with hate and anger and resentment, and who don’t see any beauty in the world (or children). I think about how the majority of us, even with our different religions and politics and traditions stand around together looking at sculpture from the past and we love it. It speaks to us. It speaks to each of us. It’s so magical.

Of course, history and art is happening now, not just in the past. I saw this today, too: