So we just returned from a fantastic, impulsive and financially irresponsible two weeks in Paris. I justified the expense by selling some stuff on eBay that covered our supercheap airfare, and renting an apartment from our friend
Isabelle at a great rate. We probably spent more money on pastry and Diet Coke (the one negating the other) than anything else except maybe Kinder Eggs, which I used to bribe my 7 and 9 year old to spend more time in the Louvre.
My daughter Coco and I spent a day in the fancy shops, where the Chanel staff hovered politely but nervously as she fondled a $25,000 coat, and we got to witness a fitting in Lanvin's atelier. We spotted Emmanuele Alt in Colette, but played it cool and didn't take her photo. I can report that over the knee boots are indeed all the rage in Paris, and that French women do occasionally get fat, although not on the scale of Americans. Bafflingly, McDonalds and Starbucks (which are on every corner) are constantly mobbed, and not just by tourists.
We uncovered the truth about overpriced tourist magnet Angelina's, when we walked by just after closing one night to see the dining room empty but with the lights still on. My daughter said, "Hey I saw something run by in there," and when we paused at the window to watch for a few minutes we saw no fewer than two dozen mice come out of hiding to nibble macaroon crumbs from the floor! Blech. Have your $10 hot chocolate somewhere else.
Despite my best attempts I haven't managed to live in Paris yet, but have been fortunate enough to find myself there every few years for the last couple of decades, and it's been interesting to observe the place as an outsider. Like any major tourist spot, the locals both depend on and resent the invaders, creating a strained politeness that sometimes cracks.
Unlike the Italians, the French do not fall all over themselves for kids. When in Rome, no matter how fancy the restaurant, our two kids were always welcomed, fussed over, given tours of the kitchen and free desserts. Not so in Paris. When my daughter ordered escargots in one restaurant, the waiter made no move to help as she struggled with the snail-removal utensil. If you want a menu pour les enfants, go to McDo. Of course travel with kids is distinctly different than travel without, despite all our assertions to the contrary before we actually had the little darlings. I spoke with the authority of the childless when I assured our friends and family that our lifestyle of spontaneous trips and dining out would not change one iota with the addition of kids (insert laughter from parents here). At the risk of sounding corny, however, I have to say that I enjoy seeing the world with my kids, and would rather travel with them than without. For instance, I would never have seen this:
If you want to know where you can find a pig with one head and two bodies reenacting Munch's "The Scream", it's in the Paleontology Museum at the Jardin des Plantes. You're welcome.
And I definitely wouldn't have taken a tour of les egouts, the Paris sewer, which, despite the presence of a young couple making out down there, is every bit as romantic as it sounds. I could taste it for several hours afterward and required two macaroons, a violette, and half a baguette to erase the horrid memory.
Without the kids, I might have failed to notice some of the art at the Pompidou, a veritable treasure trove of stuff requiring uncomfortable explanations to the under-12 set. In addition to the the Nan Goldin photo exhibit, the piece that consisted of a woman wearing a dress made entirely of meat, and the video installation of a naked woman hula hooping with a barbed wire hoop, the kids were fascinated by this
They were underwhelmed by the Van Goghs of the Musée D'Orsay
but this chair made quite an impression
What is that lady doing?
The kids were required to write a journal entry a day since they were missing two weeks of school, and my husband and I enjoyed reading them at night. One day my son wrote, "Today we went to the Louvre. It had lots of art. Most of it was naked." That about sums it up, doesn't it?
We visited the Musée de la Poupee (doll museum), the Museum of Magic and Automatons, climbed the 486 steps to the top of Notre Dame to see the gargoyles up close, and trekked out to the 19th arrondissement to the Parc de la Villette. We visited the pet stores on the Quai de la Messegerie, which carry not only the usual dogs and cats, but chinchillas, pigeons, roosters, and hairless rats, sometimes all in the same cage.
Is there something on my back?
chipmunks for sale. Only 50 Euros!
We loved the taxidermy at Deyrolle, and spent an hour or so looking through the drawers and drawers of exotic insects and butterflies.
But after two weeks of $8 cups of coffee and speaking broken French, we were ready to come home to our cat and our American TV channels and our full-size fridge. Now it's nearly 7:30 pm, and I'm off to bed. Bonne nuit!
