No-athlon

Several months ago, I roped my friends Tricia and Sarah into a relay triathlon at Emerald Isle. It seemed like a great idea - we do a quick race, and spend the rest of the weekend at the beach. By the time October rolled around, the latter sounded better than the former.

While We Were Out

Here's a quick recap of what the boys were up to with grandma and grandpa while we were in Paris. Aside from Owen getting pneumonia, I think they had a pretty good time.

Tub mohawks




At Lego Fest




Family reunification

Saturday . . .

Our last day in Paris, we ran off to Versailles. While not ideal timing, we wanted to see the Grands Eaux Musicales, during which the fountains on the grounds are set to classical music. It was pretty spectacular, although not all of the fountains were running due to drought conditions. Those Europeans are so green!

Friday . . .

More rain on Friday. Cold, icky rain. We headed up to Montmartre under cover of umbrella to gawk at Sacré Cœur. Pretty much every other tourist in Montmartre had the same idea, so we decided to use church to pray for better weather.

There was a slight break in the clouds, and we made our way back to the Marais for the best falafel either of us had ever eaten. Who knew? Thus fortified, we headed over to Lil Weasel for more yarn shopping. The store is in the passage du grande Cerf, so we got to spend some more time tucked away indoors with many interesting and unusual shops. That afternoon, I had a great time imagining that we actually lived in Paris. I had a glass of wine in "our" apartment, read my book and watched the rain stream down the windows. Then we ventured back out into the soup for a screening of The Perfect Furlough at the Cinémathèque Française.

It was perfect - Tony Curtis and Janet Leigh fall in love in Paris - and was followed by delicious pizza from the take-out across the street (a one-man operation with a wood oven . . . again, I ask: Why isn't this possible in the US?).

Thursday . . .

Thursday began with a comic misadventure. We had to leave the apartment so the cleaning lady could come straighten up, and Evan was feeling worse for the wear. So we decided to take a short walk over to Parc Bercy, pull up a bench, read, and enjoy the environs.

Our plan was going well until the torrential downpour. We headed over to an old building that used to store wine barrels, and found an adorable toy store where the boys made out like bandits. After a bit more wandering, I tucked Evan into bed and took off on foot for the Marais for a few shopping runs - Mariage Frères for tea, La Vaisellerie for random tableware. And then I parked myself in the places debout (standing room only) line at the Opéra Bastille. Neither of us had ever been to the opera, and 5 euros seemed like a modest investment. We got tickets for Tannhäuser, and spent 4 1/2 hours in Wagner's grip.

Wednesday . . .

We decided to tackle the Louvre on Wednesday. This was no small feat, and complicated by the fact that Evan was starting to nurse a French cold.













The Louvre's junk room!








Tiles in the Place de la Concorde metro station - is was like Scrabble-palooza


We made a stop at the Bon Marché for two critical shopping trips. The first was at La Droguerie - the 3rd story of the Bon Marché is like a fancy, beautiful Michael's. Gorgeous fabric and notions, walls of yarn, and mountains of buttons. I bought some kiwi green superwash merino from Bouton d'Or and some green buttons, and am imagining a fun pair of socks (which I'm sure I won't get around to starting for at least a year).

The second stop was La Grande Epicerie, which isn't a grocery store so much as a food museum. I could have spent the entire day there. We bought as much non-perishable goodness as our wallets could stand, along with some deliciously stinky cheeses and chocolate mousse from Bon Maman. (The mousse, despite being pre-packaged, was delicious. I was both amazed and annoyed - how come the French can turn out plastic tubs of yummy mousse and we're stuck with Snack Packs?) We also grabbed some soupe au pistou for the sickie and headed home for a picnic.

Tuesday . . .

Evan declared Tuesday the day of phobias. We started out at the catacombs, where we were forewarned that a) people of a nervous disposition should strongly consider an alternate activity, and, b) small children should not enter unless their parents are OK with months of nightmares. Claustrophobia and nightmares be damned, said we. So down the stairs we went, 20 m below the city, and began our trek towards the ossuary.







Stop! This is the empire of death.








Any guesses on how many Parisians are buried in the catacombs? Evan said 30,000, and I guessed 50,000. We were off by two orders of magnitude - there are 6 million bodies (or the remains thereof) in the catacombs. At one point, the bones were sort of haphazardly piled underground before an initiative for a more "decorative" arrangement. Ha!

Fear of shellfish and/or Belgian beer was next on the menu, followed by a stroll through the Jardin Luxembourg.








And for our last phobia, we took to the Eiffel Tower after wandering along the Seine.




View from the summit