France and Spain, May, 2013

I flew Air France to Paris, took a fast train from CDG airport to Bordeaux, picked up a rental car there, drove east a few hours to Aquitane and Perigord districts for a few days.  I continued southeast to Arles, Aix-en-Provence, and Avignon in Provence.  Later I drove on high speed toll roads to Girona, Spain, followed by Barcelona, and back on the toll Roads to Zaragozza, Bilbao, San Sebastian, Biarritz and then back to Bordeaux to return the car.  From there I took a really fast train - which operated at a fixed speed of nearly 100 MPH non-top to Paris where I spent a few days before returning home/
I will start with a few of my favourite photos.
The baby shots from from the old town in Bilbao.

I was crossing a plaza of an evening in Bilbao when I came upon a drama that had been going on some time. Some teens had been playing with a soccer ball when a young dog joined in, seized the ball, and kept it.  At times, there were four human teens pulling on the dog and the ball, and several others of all ages offering advice from the sidelines.  The ball was fatally wounded in the action.  The kids pulled on the ball, which translated into Dog as "Bite harder."  Someone phoned Mama who came and told the dog to release the ball and as things became far less amusing after that, I took my leave.

The girl is the dog's mistress, the tall, plaid jacketed boy is the ball's master, and at the bottom, the fine shoes and square purse indicate the very stern arrival of Mama on the scene.  This is from a series of 18 photos.

Paris

Paris seemed routine this trip as I had been there so many previous times.  I did enjoy several of the meals I had at nice restaurants.  I came to like Confit and several other traditional dishes.  I also like to drink Armanac.  It is quite expensive - about $13. a shot - but when on vacation...  One day, I sat at a sidewalk cafe (Lutece actually) and consumed an unforgettable Lemon tarte  with Armanac instead of coffee.  They went so well together I would like to have done it daily.  Some little places on the sidewalks make great crepes.  One made the finest lemon crepe you could imagine.
I am sure you read that smoking is no longer allowed in French restaurants and cafes, and that many French swore they would not obey that wretched interference in their lives. I only saw one quite arrogant jerk smoking indoors.  Now smokers occupy the sidewalk tables..  Most cafes have the overhead heaters, so non-smokers seem to go inside and the balance go outside in every kind of weather.
The City is massively crowded compared with the many times I was there from 1964 forward.  I had never seen a line up for the Notre Dame - which is still free entrance - but the line was huge.  Even the man who went in and shot himself dead at the altar had to wait in line to get in.

I always stay on the Left Bank, and this time I was close to the Luxembourg gardens. I had to change hotels several times because bookings were so heavy.  There was a cardiologists convention starting the day before I left, and there seemed to be not a room available in the city.  Well, I noticed the newly renovated Intercontinental had rooms at $1,000 per night with a three night minimum.  The Raffles did have very large standard rooms at $1,500 a night.  I asked Raffles in Singapore who stays in those rooms, as I have asked at other high-end hotels occasionally.  They always say that it is almost always government employees.  Trip advisor lists 1,800 hotels in Paris and many are still  not on the internet, so I think there are many more.  Most are small, but it takes a lot of people to fill all of them.
I had not been to the Louvre, Pompidou, d'Orsay, and Jeu de Paume for a long time.  Despite the huge crowds and long line to get in, I really was thrilled to see so many great paintings again.  I had a short list of several works I especially wanted to see, and some questions.
While I was detaining a v. helpful couple of people at the information desk, I asked them how many people they admit to the Louvre.  They average 26,000 a day, 10 million a year, and one-third of all people who visit Paris, also visit the Louvre.

Note face of dog behind glass of red wine.

My other enquiry was about the looting habits of Napoleon Bonaparte.  I had read that he told his men to take every possible thing back to Paris including all art and sculptures from Italy.  I wondered if any had been returned.  A curator said that the French government returned everything possible at the beginning of the 19th C.  Well, except for one painting; they Veronese, Wedding at Cana (water into wine routine) stayed in Paris.  It is massive 24 x 32'  and weighs 1.5 tons.

 We are driven to wonder how it was transported with horse wagons when it was looted.  In fact, the French cut it in half and stitched back together in Paris.  Then the Louvre went through a massive renovation in the 80s and when Cana was being re-hung in the early 90s, a support came loose and the immense painting crashed to the floor ripping holes in four places.

Reducing such a massive image down to this size makes it quite insensible, but you get the idea - that there is a lot of painting on this sheet of canvas.  I was surprised to see puppy dogs (alive) on the table in addition to the many dogs on the floor.  Did JC turn water into wine and guests into puppies?  Has this aspect been forgotten in our religious teachings?

When I first went to Paris Les Halles was the grand market in the city centre.  It was a massive jumble of butchers hanging dead creatures from hooks, tons of fruit and vegetables, baked goods, spices and almost anything related to food consumption, plus the famous whores, all next to one of the grandest churches in Paris; the 16th C. St. Eustache.

In 1971, Les Halles was abolished & the huge Chatelet Metro station built underground.  Then it was a park of sorts for many years while a long term destiny was argued about.  Now there is a colossal project by Kool Haus underway to create some new public buildings.

One end of the park was dominated by the Beaubourg or  Pompidou modern art museum, which appears to be a building turned inside out.  The escalators and ventilation  systems and many pipes are all on the exterior of the structure.  In 1977 when it opened, and for some years after, it looked interesting and had some great art shows.  Now, despite the huge crowds it still attracts, it looks drab, worn, and kind of like what Joan Rivers probably looks like upon arising each morning.  Worse, the art collection and shows are hideous.  I am a strong advocate of so-called modern art, but that does not include trash.  I suspect the Beaubourg is flat out of money.  And, in France and Quebec, public operations seem to seldom, or never, hire people for their abilities, but who they know and as a result do many things badly.

In my early days, what is now the Musee d'Orsay, was a boarded up train station along the Seine.  It looked  really kind of frightening as it was so huge and in such terrible condition.  So I was thrilled as others to see it open in '86 as a gallery largely devoted to the impressionists.   It is beautiful inside.  But it is now way too small for the crowds it attracts.  Upstairs, where the galleries are too small and happen to contain some of the most famous artworks in the world, like Monet's Waterlillies, there really is human gridlock.  There was a  lovely cafeteria on the top floor where we could take food on to the roof and sit at a table and look at the River and all of Paris.  But the roof seems to be closed and it is a packed and small table service restaurant with no view at all.  Just to give you an idea of the crowds, I counted 30 women in line for the bathroom on the main floor.

I am not sure I will return to Europe, not so much due to my age or health, but the demands of travel among such crowds. It is impossible to feel the art or history of a place with so much traffic around the viewer, not even to mention the current fad of jumping in front of every object to have your photo taken and then rushing on to the next famous thing to do the same over and over and over again.  This time, it was raining hard much of the time I was there - and all of the time I was in Paris.  It got even worse after I left and there were floods all across central Europe.

Aquitane and Perigueux

I took the train from CDG airport in Paris to Bordeaux.  There I rented a Europcar.  I must mention that I requested a VW, but they gave me whatever a Spanish made VW is.  I was quite amazed by it.  It looked like any other mass produced, fairly boring four door.  But it had a water sensitive windshield.  If the setting was on Automatic, the car decided when to turn on and off the windshield wipers, and at what speed they should function.  Since I was nearly overwhelmed with bad weather from mist to deluge, this came in handy.

The car also had an auto setting for lights.  Some tiny person, I guess, is hiding in the car somewhere worrying about whether it is dark enough to turn on all lights, or maybe even, turn them off now, oops, or maybe back on now.  Of course, being Europe, the car was a manual transmission - which I enjoyed.  But on the panel, there was an indicator which told the driver when to shift up or down and to what gear, to maximize fuel use.  I was surprised at the level of sophistication of such a common car.

Near Bordeaux, there are of course, many vineyards.  But driving east from there, it only took about 80 miles to convert from those to vast, deep, dark and tall forests.  These are not scrappy forests; they are more like the very definition of forest. Simultaneously, there is a huge limestone escarpment, much like we have in Ontario, except for the forestation and castles poking up along the highest ridges and points

There are also cliff-hangers and cliff dwellers and some cave dwellers.  In this region, many cliffsides have homes built right into the.  I can understand how they get electricity into them, but not how they get water or plumbing.  The one below is in Les-Eyzies-de-Tayac-Sireul in the Dordogne department.  Pronounced easy.

 This was a wonderful place.  Of course, it was raining but under the cliff it was dry if not warm.  Many of these kinds of buildings dot the countryside and most are just tiny houses slapped on the front of a cave.

It had been my intention - for 25 years actually - to take a hotel in Sarlat (pop. 10,700), the main and most interesting town of the region - rent a bike and cycle in different directions daily.  I had been informed of how friends did this so many years ago and how they enjoyed it.  In the first place, there were no accommodations available near Sarlat,  Second, it was cold and rainy.  Third, the roads were so dreadful narrow and driven so fast, that I could not imagine riding there at all.  I do think my friend was somewhat romantic and exaggerating of what he and his wife did there a couple of trips.

I find it amusing to speak with pretty average people who ride little at home, but then go to Europe, rent a bike solo (no tour company) and then come home chanting loudly about their great bike ride huge distances. Then last year, I found the secret.  I rode several long line trains through Austria, Cz Rep., and Germany, and I did often see great bike paths nears the tracks.  But I also saw a lot of cyclists throwing their bikes on the train when it was windy, wet, or they were tired and wanted to make the next major city by night.  I think a lot of badly under-prepared cyclists seem to explode their adventures by a factor of about 10 when reciting their stories. I do not mind as I admire any attempt to do something that bold and demanding.

Sarlat is a pretty, medieval town.  Unfortunately the first day I was there, was Market day Saturday/  This means the local opportunists put up booths in what was a useful street and offers their wares.  This is so sensible if, for example, they sell local wares - which the region has in abundance.  But when 80% is more Asian junk and the streets are gridlocked (truly) with humans unable to move forward or back, it is irritating, especially when the skies open up with huge downpours frequently.

But, this is where, in France, truffles come from, and geese reluctantly offer their livers for foie gras not to mention being cooked in their own fat (with potatoes, mushrooms & garlic) to become Confit (too, too wonderful), great garlic soup, windmill crepes, etc   There are many powerful and delicious local drinks of course.  Service is absolutely first class and the presentation if great.  It was the first trip ever for me to eat everything I could from a local area, and it is no wonder that Michelin guides call the Perigord and Quercy one of France's culinary jewels.

I took a hotel in the small town of Perigord and drove around the region to many villages during the days.  It was really wonderful and I managed to work with the rain.

The Dordogne river is what all other rivers want to be - not too big, not too small and run through beautiful landscapes.  This is the Dordogne and you can just spot two canoes on it and a car on the bridge.  The Lot river is also nearby and is also a handsome flow.  I happened to be high up on a castle shooting this 

Provence

One of the most interesting aspects of Provence was arriving there.  I drove the A75 highway south over the Millau Viaduct, which at 890 feet (270 meters) is the highest bridge in the world.

Much as I expected, the view is better from somewhere other than on the deck of the bridge, as you cannot see much while navigating the high speed traffic and curvature of the bridge.  I can say that it has clear plastic-looking panels along the side which initially look like suicide barriers.  But it becomes apparent that they are in fact, wind barriers which must be critically important many days a year to prevent trucks from blowing over and cars from just inconveniently exiting the bridge sideways.

In Provence, I was most interested in Van Gogh's Arles.

Many European cities have been so cleaned up and renovated that they do not relate well to my ideas of French cities and those in other countries.  But Arles in many ways is not radically changed from when Van Gogh lived there.  The grand Rhone flows through in a wide channel.  A lot of the buildings are old and the alleys narrow.

I also visited Aix-en-Provence, Avignon and several other cities along the coast.  Frankly, I was impatient with the whole area.  France is the most visited country in the world receiving 80 million foreigners per year.  How does it feel to be Mr. 69,876,231 ?    I suppose about 30% better than being Mr. 79,999,999. It is all too crowded to feel the emotional connection to history that motivated the traveller in the first place.

Girona

Girona was mainly familiar to me because it is where many of the professional cyclists winter, and also use as their base while riding in the big European racing season.  In fact, the bridge below is the one Lance and his team mates used to meet at evenings when they got together for dinner.

The Old Town of Girona is about seven streets and most handsome.  It is very historical and certainly a tourist destination, but while I was there, there was a creative flower show on.  It provided flowers to artists to make art  with.  This brought extra thousands into the old town and but it was a happy and friendly crowd on a beautiful warm day - one of the few of the entire trip.

One of the odd problems of driving in Euro cities today is that they have smartly adjusted to traffic. In most cities, the right line is reserved for taxis and buses, and heaven help you if you enter that lane. All streets are one ways assuring you will never be able to find your way back to where you were.  That leaves two lanes - usually - for pretty fast traffic.  So you are looking for a hotel, but the few parking spots available are permanently full and there is no where to even slow down.  Worse, you may well have the address of a hotel which is on a pedestrian only street and it requires a full miracle to find those streets and a way to get to them.  Most cities have undermined large areas and made underground parking areas, but of course, you have to know where you are and where you want to go, which is not always possible.
In Girona, the only hotel I could even find, was the Melia and it had a pull off spot right in front. In a world of tiny, minimalist, barren rooms, this was not only the best deal of the trip, but the best deal I think I ever had in a four star.It was a large, quiet and comfortable room with a beautiful bathroom, large buffet breakfast, free internet and parking.  Anywhere else that would have added up to $200++, but it was less than $100 in Girona.

I think I saw this in Girona and probably you should know about it too in case there is a test later.  It is St. Narcissus - Honest, I am not making this up.  I t appears to be his tomb.  He didn't look that cute, but must have been a knock-out at some time - or he thought he was - to get that grand title.

Barcelona

I will be brief as Barcelona is so well known there is not much for me to add.  I did want to see how much progress had been made on Gaudi's Sagrada Familia.  It has come a huge way in the past 40 years, but I suppose there is another 50 years left to complete it.

At the apex of

one of the five peaks on the left side is something like coloured marble balls. I am not sure where they fit in theology or Art nouveau.  The ceiling light is over the altar and probably was a miracle as it was pouring rain all the time I was standing in line outside.

Bilbao, Spain

To most of us, Bilbao means Gehry's Guggenheim.  I have always reserved judgement on the aesthetics of the building and site.  But I was overwhelmed and converted as St. Paul was by lightning upon seeing it.  It is absolutely beautiful inside and out as is the entire site.  It is said to have taken inspiration from the opening of petals on a flower, which makes sense.  Otherwise I could not understand an architect coming up with such a unique design.  But seeing it, one wonders how to put idea on paper to be followed by builders, how to convince city fathers of a v. traditional city to accept this exquisite heap of titanium junk at a huge cost in their nice city, then to actually succeed in getting it built, and amazingly to leave it alone and not alter the site nor building once it was completed.
I had long wondered how the galleries fit and if they were effective in such an odd scheme.  They are.
I cannot explain The collection problem with this or other Guggenheims, but the Irwin Unger book The Guggenheims provides the best explanation of the matter.
On the second photo from the top, you will see a beautiful blue glass 40 Storey office tower by Cesar Pelli.  It is wonderful to see how comfortably this huge tower opened in 2012, fits into the low rise and traditional Basque city.

Biarritz

Biarritz is justly famous for its spectacular coastline.  I think it is actually more dramatic than Monaco, although the scene is similar.  The May weather was however, bitterly cold with a strong wind with the result that the beaches and town were abandoned by all but about 50 enthusiastic surfers.
Prices were fairly breathtaking.  One of the grand hotels along the beach had a restaurant offering salmon and another fish ala carte at $103.00 each.  I know fish is scare today, but...

France & Spain, May, 2013

Conclusions   There are no roses without thorns.  So many things have changed since I first travelled some of these places and Europe in '64.  The roads are far safer and much faster.  I did not see any of the old suicide roads which were three lanes with a joint passing (permanent Chicken game) lane down the middle.  The many toll roads are mostly six lanes and mostly driven at 85-95 MPH.
The new version of Hell is how foreigner learns the huge complexities of the toll payment systems.  You suddenly drive up upon a toll plaza of many little booths/stations with green lights over them and symbols of something or other.  Behind you is a nation of tiny little minds who do the same thing every boring day of their wretched lives at these tolls, and are just dying for a slowpoke alien who does not know the symbols and system so they can blow their tops, honk, spin and shout.
Finally, you begin to figure out the system; which green light to drive under, where to put the ticket, see what you owe, to put the coins, and the bills and get the gate to lift.  Then you drive comfortably up to the next plaza and sometimes find that it is different than what you so carefully learned earlier.  Or worse, you arrive in Spain where the mechanisms are quite different while horns blare and shouts seeking to rip off your nether parts come from the rear.
For example, most of France has a familiar  and highly visible basket to toss coins into.  But Spain has a practically invisible black cup high up so you often have to move the car forward to get to it where you throw coins.  But nothing happens, except that horns honk behind you impatiently.  Eventually you realize that the nearly invisible black cup has a more invisible little black hinged lid, which would like to be shut to complete the coin transaction, and then things do happen.
When I travelled in Europe in the early 60s, hotels were $3 for 3 star and $5 for four star although somewhat higher in Paris.  Now the rooms are so tiny.  The first room I had in Paris would cost $525 today - based on size (it even had a non-working fireplace).  But I must say that now all rooms have actual hot water, heat, some have AC, TV, phone, wifi, etc. and based on supply & demand, I think the prices are almost low.
It does amaze me how much the Accor Brands have come to dominate so much of the Euro hotel market with Ibis, Mercure, Novotel, etc.  I loved Novotels in Dubai, Vientiane, and Hong Kong for example, but they are awfully expensive in France and Spain.  I did stay in several Ibis just because they were what was available.  They are so clean and modern and well-priced, but it seemeth me that it is never a good thing when you open your room door and it always collides with the bed.
Worse, there are now several kinds of Ibis, so when I arrived in Bordeaux and followed the statement in the booking drivel on the site saying hotel visible from St. Jean train station and walked through the driving rain, I found that I was at the wrong Ibis.  I went as directed just down the street to one with a sign reading Ibis styles, but they said non, non, non, go a few blocks more and then around the corner.  Alas, only a helicopter could have possible seen that far off Ibis from the station.
Air France:  I booked AF to get away from Air Canada.  Admittedly the AF stews are mostly prettier,  all nicer, younger and often 50 lbs lighter than AC flock of human-haters.  But, AF like most of the major carriers have turned to these much touted slim seats, which have allowed them to cram more passengers on flights.  The seats are cheap junk seemingly made by Ikea and based on a lawn chair design covered in fabric  Walmart rejected for use.  The seats klunk, klunk when moved and after 30 minutes of sitting, I guarantee your backside is begging for mercy.
Then they bring food - a term I use loosely here.  We had a choice of Shepherd's pie (honest) or badly congealed pasta, plus a tiny block of Kraft cheese, etc. on Air France.  Terrible airline - never again.  But I must say that coming home, they did get the baggage up from a fully loaded B 777 in 15-20 minutes instead of AC's constant 45-60 minutes.
One of the joys of Europe is not having to constantly see herds of hideously disfigured people covered in tattoos, with cheap junk metal things sticking out of their faces, and goat turd plugs in their ears.  I do not know what has happened to North America to turn us into the white trash of the world.  Like it or not, I am here to tell you that the corollary of all this is graffitti, trash everywhere and either no manners at all or bad manners.  Bilbao was pristine in every way and people were so attractive and mannerly.  Do you know that there are men in Europe whose wardrobe does not consist of a collection of blue jeans and T-shirts?  Yes, it is true.
There is some surprise here that there is such a reaction to gay marriage there.  I have been to many places in the world and must advise you that throughout history, and even now, there are a lot of people and places where two men wishing to enjoy sodomy just do it without a parade, a flag, protests, or even being assigned or adopting a name for what happens.  I realize the regrettable legal aspect of why some form of contract is necessary, but I so do despise hearing that some 14 year -old boy has declared his is gay or the non-stop media mention of it whenever they happen to not be saying social media twitter facebook.
I personally think travel in Europe is over, cooked, done.  Way too many people.  I think it may be nicer to travel in the U.S. now - less expensive, less crowded, many nice places to visit.

Photos California

Above:  "Rack with brains"
Two tree sculptures along Highway #1

San Francisco February, 2013

I have friends in both LA and San Francisco, but prefer hotels for about the same reason provided for us by Oscar Wilde "I prefer to stay where I can complain that the bath water is not warm enough."  Well, there was little (nothing, really) to complain about at the immense Hilton (more than 1,000 rooms I think).  It is a good base line to evaluate complaints on Trip advisor.  I think no matter how nice a property, there will be 1% to 10% able to find something not quite up to their high standards.

I suspect it is partly the revenue flow from Silicon valley that has made SF a much more interesting city now than it was 15-20 years ago.  Granted it is an old city and has its rough edges.  The next block over from my Hilton and the Nikko Hotel, was a solid block of flop and charity houses for homeless, way down and out, very rough and tumble customers.  They were strewn all over both sides of the sidewalk, often in their own urine, many in long lines for food or a bed.  It reminded me of Toronto frankly.  I think - like Vancouver - they come from all over the U.S. for the weather and of course, flock to the big cities - unfortunately for SF.

The days I was there were just great to be alive.  The clear blue skies with 76 f. temp and no wind were such a pleasure compared with the February T.O. I left behind.  I went on a streetcar to the Golden Gate park to the Legion of Honor - an odd name for a major art gallery.  It is situated in the center of a golf course, and looks out to the Bay and GG bridge (hence the photo above.  It is a wonderful museum with many important paintings and a lot more Rodin statues.
Not far away is a sister Museum named the deYoung.  As a result of the last major quake, the old de Young had to be torn down and a new and strange, ultra modern gallery was built on the old footprint.  It is such a great museum with a drop dead collection.  They have one astonishing gallery of ceramic and glass.  In my third photo you can see part of what a colourful and exciting room it is, and two of several fine Chihuly glass works on the right side (in green and orange).  Also there is a glass imitation of a stained glass window entitled "The Messurection."  A girl has botched the resurrection of her rabbit (I think) and is parying about the whole matter.  It is truly funny.
There is a great view from the 9th floor of the admin tower of all SF, the rest of the park (photo 4) and the Bay. There was a Vermeer on display - as there was at the Getty (so only 13 exist and 2 were in LA and SF) and almost noting in art draws crowds like Mr. Vermeer.
There were a lot of really interesting and major commercial art galleries near Union Square.  I should have allowed more time for SF, as I did want to visit UC Berkeley.  But I did walk back to Union Square from GG park which goes through the old Haight Ashbury.  It is less interesting than in the 60s, but everything is, so it is all relative.
I really enjoyed SF and an anxious to return.

Stanford U., The Cantor & Auguste Rodin mysteries

I had never visited Stanford U., and was interested in viewing one of the most beautiful campuses in the world, stopping at the Hoover Library and seeing if there were any traces of Einstein's years there  (no), plus seeing the beautiful Cantor Museum which owns more than 200 Rodin sculptures in addition to its art collection.  The Italians often say "You can't eat the scenery" and leave Italy for less pretty venues to survive.  Academically, I suppose the same is true.  But students there must enjoy the beauty of the campus.  In addition to the handsome buildings laid out in a lovely plan among many fine old trees (H. Hoover was in the first class when the U. opened, so you now know how old it is), the real surprise is a seemingly feral forest built right into the campus. Nearby it is the beautiful Cantor Museum.
It is as comfortable as an old shirt.  A kind of small building by today's standards which includes a pretty outdoor cafe among a gang of large scale Rodin's.  Inside there are far more than I ever knew he made, plus all the familiar ones.
But something didn't smell just right with me.  Bronze statues have been made in editions of 12 for a long time, although I do not know yet, when this practice began. A lot of Bronzes are marked in the manner the Cantor's "Thinker" is - viz. 10/12.  Many others there are marked just as "4" or "7" and many are not marked at all.
Why 12?  Probably it takes as many as six to break even on the huge costs of working with bronze.  Undoubtedly, many never sell enough to get to the number 12/12 as you cannot know the final number for a long time.

You may not believe it, but their Thinker is marked right in the bronze that it was forged in 1972.  The attribution also states that and says that it was authorized by the Musee Rodin  (aka The Republic of France)(meaning that the Musee collected a giant royalty for authorizing the founding which must still be done at Rodin's  supplier/foundry)..  Now you must ask as I did, How could it be that it took 103 years from the date of the 1st forged Thinker, to sell 9 of the most famous bronze in the world, in history, by the most famous and desired artist?
Then I came upon a v. large statue by Rodin of some obscure (to us) French poet.  Incredibly that one had been produced in 1992.
 Then there was The Age of bronze - the 1st photo (above) of the naked young man. I personally have seen more than 12 of these and wikipedia lists 14 known to exist and many of the ones I have seen are not on that list - I suspect there could be 30 or 40 of these - or more.
Then there are the beautiful 12", 16" and 18" ones (photo 2 et al).  Some of those were numbered and many were not. I think those are Rodin's studies for large pieces not produced in his lifetime.
Who cares?  I am just happy to have the opportunity to see these and only find it all curious.  Imagine if you bought a Age of Bronze years ago for $1 million and thought there would be only 12 in the world - and yours would be worth $40 million by now and it is instead worth maybe $150,000 because the Musee Rodin is still producing them like a Holstein cow give you-know-what or a vine in Bordeaux provides annually.  Moreover, I saw far more Rodin bronzes in California alone (there must be 400 at least) than Rodin ever authorized or produced.
I asked some museum people and they were shocked to be told that bronzes were numbered.  One chief security manager even denied it until I showed him.  So I looked hard to see which had numbers and as they are on a dark surface and often on the side of the base, they are hard to see - more so when they do not exist. Guards told me to stay 18" away from the works of art.  I finally told one I certainly did not wish any hard to works of art, but on the other hand, I was not visiting some Macy's or Walmart,.  I was in an art gallery and wanted to see the credentials of the art.  I also wanted to examine the surfaces of the non-numbered ones (they are different than the originals).  Period.  In three cases, the co-opted the guard into joining me in the hunt.
In any case, I loved my visit to Stanford in every way, well except for the girl with the big, big ass in bright orange pants who would not get away from the front of The gates of Hell (ironic eh?) so I could photo it.

The Redwoods and the hill billies

Some 150 miles miles north of SF is Humboldt State Redwoods park which includes the wonderful 32 mile drive through Avenue of the Giants.  The feeling walking through these trees is ineffable.  Of course, we feel miniscule, but there is some feeling of peace and order too.  We know who's boss in  there.
The trees are all spectacular, but I was anxious to see the Rockefeller forest.  I read in David Rockefeller's Memoir (a must-read book) that in 1930,  a large tract of giant redwoods was about to be cut for lumber and there was an urgent  - and to that time, hopeless - need for a donor to save the trees as it contain 100 giants of which 40 were among the world's tallest trees.  The Rockefellers immediately provided $2 Million: a lot of money in 1930, which was matched by the State and saved 10,000 acres on Bull Creek from destruction by the Pacific Lumber company.
The 2nd and 3rd photos are part of the Rockefeller tract.  In one there is a falling trunk across the center of the photo, and you can see two new trunks growing bravely skyward right out of the falling tree truck.
The tree stump I am shown in front of was more than 2,000 years old when it fell, and that was more than 500 years ago.
That old Chandelier is the one of millions of postcards where cars drive through a tree.  As the nice the lady in the gift store had nothing better to do (I was the only one in the vicinity - she was trapped with me) I asked her what creatures inhabit the large redwoods?  She said Wild Turkeys - and they have a lot of them there.  I was surprised at that, although I had thought the redwoods, though majestic did not do a lot for forest animals.  She said they have some deer in the area, but they never grow to be v. large or old as the coyotes, wolves and bears get them.  Maybe I missed something, but you might think that turkeys which nest on the ground would almost be more endangered by such predators than even swift footed deer.

Hill billies so close to sophisticated SF.  I stayed overnight in  a nice Marriot in Novato - about an hour in heavy traffic north of the Golden Gate bridge.  It seems to be a tech city.  But once you go N - E. or West from there, it is quite astonishing that you are so close to Silicon Valley, Stanford, one of the greatest universities in the world  and a great modern city like SF, and you find yourself immersed in hill billies.  Now there are some major crops of oranges and vegetables there, so there must be some farmers or agriculturists, but all I encountered for days were out and out hill billies.  They were happy and pleasant hill billies, true, but they all could have been existing 100 years ago if deprived of their Ford F-150's and their "Hullo, yeah, yeah, ok, yeah, Bye" cell phones.  Maybe I read too much Cormack McCarthy and then just finished The Englishman's boy as well, but although seemed quiescent, almost inert, I could not help but expect that they would burst out of the Main Street pasta bistro, form up a F-150 posse and ride off the put down yet another injun rebellion.  I must admit I did not see any apparent injuns there, so maybe they have co-opted or been abolished.
I did not see the word Library for the few days I was there, and there must have been a legit bookstore (not just tourist lit) somewhere, although I did not see one.  That is lumbering and mining country, but I saw little of either - although one does see loads of cut redwood lumber heading south every hour or so.