To avoid the crowds at the Louvre, all you need to do is exercise.

Paris: I fell in love with the Louvre one morning while doing disco moves at Michael Jackson’s. No Stop until you have enough in the Hall of the Caryatids.

The museum, a former medieval fortress and later royal palace, had not yet opened, and I was following instructions to walk the walkway, do hip hops, and point out the large hall where Louis XIV once held plays and balls.

The sun cast warm light through long windows, streaking the pink and white checkered floor and bathing the marble arms, heads, and wings of the ancient Greek statues around me.

“Dot, dot, dot,” shouted Salim Bagayoko, a dance instructor. So I did my best John Travolta poses and pointed around the room, my eyes landing on Artemo’s delicate sandaled foot, the wings of a Niobid, and Apollo’s stone penis.