Madeleine T.
Yelp
I haven't had television reception since 1994. I watch what I want on DVD, hulu, netflix and so on. This suits me perfectly but is also relevant, for I had managed to miss an entire slew of NATURE!!! SO DANGEROUS!!! EXTINCT CREATURES!!! ATTACKING YOU!!! documentaries which I almost certainly would have watched otherwise but, honestly, find a little bit crazy and stressful. My sweetheart and I watched the National Geographic special on Sarcosuchus[1] and I was stunned, to say the least. The drama! The tension! The spectacle! National Geographic, wherefore the circus?
Fast forward: when struck down by a particularly virulent cold the day after my sweetheart and I arrived in Paris, I dramatically shortened my list of Things To Do And See to one item: The Musée National d'Histoire Naturelle. If I did nothing else, I would get here.
And I did! Sniffling and mildly feverish, but so, so excited. The articulated and mounted specimens are amazing[2] and so strikingly simply arranged, the tiny corner of oddities somehow is endearing, and stop two on my World Glyptodont Tour is complete.
My sweetheart patiently followed me around the collections, irreverently making dramatic faces at every remotely crocodilian specimen and saying in a hushed announcer voice, "Could it be...SARCOSUCHUS???" And then, holy moly, we saw a large looking fellow across the aisle. Slowly we turned, step by step, inch by inch. *Could* it be Sarcosuchus? It *was* Sarcosuchus. They have Sarcosuchus. SARCOSUCHUS! We couldn't believe it. I still haven't recovered from my fit of glee.
If you can contain your own fits of glee, or aren't prone to them in the first place, it is beautiful and eerie and if you get the chance, you should absolutely make a trip of it. Walk through the Jardin des Plantes - beautiful even in winter - and immerse yourself in the kind of dusty, hand-labelled collection that makes wannabe Victorian gentleman scientists like me swoon. And make sure to take a picture - no flash - with Sarcosuchus.
[1] a.k.a. SUPER CROC, see http://www.nationalgeographic.com/supercroc/
[2] My sweetheart, however, referred to them as "The Army of Death."