Price not all included

As I walked into a gallery I saw a guard sitting slumped in a corner filled with grating, tiles and etched glass. His shoes were off and I was thinking how pretty a picture it would make, when he suddenly jumped off and pantomimed taking my picture with my camera. No no, I said, but he insisted, so he took the picture. Then he motioned to go stand near Venus and after that mean a cabinet of gold earrings and broaches. He's shooting off snaps with the flash, despite signs in about six languages all over the museum saying NO FLASH. So I finally got it before he rubbed his fingers together. Money. Later, walking around another little guard came up to me and asked in French if I liked tiles. Sure, I said in English. With that he pulled aside a barrier and let me into a gallery shut for a new installation. It was filled with gorgeous tiles from Greece, Turkey, Andalusia, Holland. He tip-toed, held his finger to his lips for silence, glanced dramatically right and left as we walked around and in general acted the role of a guy doing me a tremendous big favor. You know that cost me, but the theater of it all was worth it. In total the guards extorted double the price of admission I paid. Even then it cost about the same as any American art museum I've visited.

As at the ruins, the museum was mostly deserted, leaving me alone with the tiles, masks and steles.