A candid, slightly blurry photo taken from a bench in the Louvre's Denon Wing, looking down a grand hallway. The scene is captured at a slightly off-angle, as if held in hand. A few tired visitors are walking in the distance, and the polished marble floor reflects the soft, late afternoon light filtering through a large window. The atmosphere is quiet and contemplative
A close-up, imperfect smartphone photo of an overpriced espresso and a half-eaten pain au chocolat on a small café table in the Louvre. The focus is slightly soft, capturing the texture of the flaky pastry. In the background, out of focus, are the legs of other visitors and the base of a large statue, conveying a moment of rest in a busy museum
A spontaneous, slightly crooked shot through a large window in the Louvre, showing a glimpse of the Tuileries Garden outside. The sky is overcast with soft, cloudy light. The trees show the first hints of yellow and orange autumn colors. The photo has a slight reflection of the interior's warm light on the glass, making it feel authentic and immediate

A quiet afternoon at the Louvre

It's 5:10 PM, and I'm sitting on a bench in the Denon Wing of the Louvre, giving my feet a much-needed rest. I've been here since it opened at 9:00 this morning (I arrived at 8:50, of course, and found myself in a modest queue of early birds). Eight hours of art viewing might seem excessive, but when you're in one of the world's greatest museums, time simply dissolves.

The Louvre is overwhelming in the best possible way. I started with a plan—to see the "big three" (Mona Lisa, Venus de Milo, and Winged Victory) before the crowds swelled—but quickly abandoned any structured approach. There's something liberating about letting the art guide you instead.

The Mona Lisa experience was exactly as I'd heard: a small painting behind bulletproof glass, surrounded by a crowd wielding smartphones. I waited patiently for my turn at the front, and when I finally stood before her, I understood the fascination. It's not just about seeing a famous painting; it's about being in the presence of something that has captivated humanity for centuries. Her eyes really do seem to follow you.

After the mandatory tourist stops, I wandered through the less crowded sections. The Egyptian antiquities collection was particularly fascinating—standing before artifacts from 4,000 years ago puts my 500-day journey into perspective. What is a year and a half compared to millennia?

By midday, museum fatigue was setting in. I found the museum café and treated myself to an overpriced but decent espresso and a pain au chocolat. The French certainly know their pastries. As I sat there watching visitors from around the world, I overheard at least seven different languages.

The afternoon was dedicated to the French and Italian paintings. I found myself drawn to the works of artists I'd never heard of, often bypassing more famous pieces. There's something special about discovering a painting that speaks to you personally, even if it isn't in the guidebooks.

The weather outside has turned cloudier throughout the day, according to glimpses through the museum's windows. The forecast mentions rain for later this week—I'll need to prioritize my outdoor activities for tomorrow.

I've noticed something about myself on this trip. In Amsterdam and Bruges, I felt a need to see everything, to check items off a mental list. Here in Paris, I'm learning to slow down. Quality over quantity. I spent nearly 30 minutes with a single Vermeer painting today, noticing details I would have missed if I'd been rushing.

It's strange to think I've been traveling for nearly a month now. Some days it feels like I just left Kristiansand yesterday; other times it seems like I've been on the road forever. 473 days to go until my birthday deadline. Will I be a different person by then? Am I changing already?

I should probably head back to the hotel soon. My feet are protesting after hours of walking on marble floors, and I still need to find dinner somewhere. Tomorrow I'm planning to visit the Eiffel Tower—hopefully the weather cooperates for some sunset photos.

A waiter at the bistro last night mentioned something about transportation strikes planned for Thursday. I'll need to keep that in mind and perhaps adjust my schedule. Exploring Montmartre might be better suited for tomorrow or Wednesday when getting around the city should still be relatively straightforward.

For now, though, I'm going to sit here a little longer, watching people react to the masterpieces around me. There's something wonderful about witnessing someone's first encounter with art that has endured for centuries. In a world of constant change and updates, these paintings remain, speaking across time in a language that needs no translation.

!A quiet corner in the Louvre, away from the crowds

P.S. The trees in the Tuileries Garden adjacent to the Louvre are beginning to show hints of autumn colors. I'll have to walk through there on my way out.