The Fair Isles Part 1

So I’ll start up again where I last left off. My trip to Paris with the exchange students from Southampton was interesting to say the least. The day started with me almost missing the bus and an introduction to the staff and students going on the trip. When I met Bob, the teacher in charge, he asked me where I was from, to which I replied “Philadelphia.” “Philadelphia,” he said, “hm. So what kind of big cities does Philadelphia have?” Right. Queue 15 second pause and look of incredulity. “Um, Philadelphia is a city, in the state of Pennsylvania.” Granted it was 8.00 in the morning, but I took back the “get out of jail for free” card I'd given him after he introduced me to the rest of the kids.

“Good morning everyone! So today we have a guest with us, Matt, with us who works at the collège teaching English. Matt is from Philadelphia, does anyone know anything about Philadelphia?”

*Crickets*

“CHEESE!”

What this genius was referring to was Philadelphia cream cheese. That’s the only thing they can think of when they hear “Philadelphia.” No Liberty Bell, Ben Franklin, Declaration of Independence, Constitution, former capital of the United States…nothing. One even asked me, after they realized that I was American and not French, if Philadelphia was on the West coast. Fail.

Their teacher Amélie, a French expat living in England, told me that they’re not very concerned with geography, languages or world culture. Even though they were supposed to be the best and the brightest from their school, the happenings of the day would prove otherwise. Most of them threw out the bag lunches that their family packed for them (they didn’t even drink the Orangina!) and opted for Subway and Starbucks, while others boasted about how they barely spoke any French with their host families and how they had to try so many different foods at last nights’ dinner. I must be getting old.

After taking a tour of Notre Dame (Fun Fact: I never realized that the door on the far left was different from the other two, but apparently it was made that way because the church believed that nothing could be perfect, except God) we headed to Beaubourg where Amélie, Matt and I sat at a café while the kids had some free time.

The afternoon was spent touring the Stade de France, the biggest stadium in France where they have rugby, soccer, track and field, cycling and motocross as well as concerts and operas. Our guide was really good, but I felt terrible for him because of some of the questions that the kids asked him i.e. How many people died and/or killed themselves here? What’s the most serious accident you’ve had here? The stadium is 900 years old. The light color in this area is wrong, it should be red since it’s closer to the fire station. Forget questions like “has so and so performed here?” or “how many goals have been scored here?” etc.

The Stade de France seats 80,000 spectators, and the Jumbo-trons are as big as a tennis court.

Two days later on Wednesday I left for Belfast to visit my friend Sarah before heading to London to do the same with another friend, James. Going into this trip I had no expectations at all; not even the slightest inkling of what either Ireland or England would be like. Both places, however, were nicer than I ever could have imagined and I had a fantastic time. In both countries we were kept so busy that every night we were exhausted. Only two things were missing from the trip, a proper night out and a pint of Guinness. Otherwise pretty much everything got checked off the list.

Right, so first stop: Belfast. Sarah met Jackie and I at the airport and we did a mini walking tour of Belfast, making a quick stop to see the oldest pub in the city before heading to Victoria Square for some Peri-Peri chicken at Nando’s. The British assistants raved about this place (they serve Portuguese food) and honestly, their praise was justified. Awesome. If anyone wants to make a killing stateside, open one of these restaurants. I’m convinced it would slaughter Moe’s or Panera Bread.
We walked around a little bit more after dinner and did a tour of the waterfront along the River Lagan (they switch the word order for some reason) before Sarah’s dad picked us up and we headed back to her place.

The next day we got on the train and went to Dublin. It was a beautiful city that reminded me of Boston, which makes sense I guess considering that so many Irish immigrants settled there. We had a nice 15 minute walk or so into the center of town and after signing up for an afternoon Viking tour we went for a stroll through the grounds of Trinity College before heading to lunch. Again, I was treated to an incredible meal at Elephant & Castle, a New York style sandwich shop that was anything but. According to Sarah’s mom they’re a chain too like Nando’s; and again if anyone is looking for an investment opportunity, here’s another one for you.

After lunch we went on a Viking tour of Dublin. A Viking tour is basically the same thing as a Duck Tour that you’d take in Philly or Boston, except you wear Viking helmets and yell at people walking along the street as you drive by. I’ll admit that at first, I thought it was going to be kind of cheesy, but the driver was hilarious and I had a really good time. It was difficult to get photos of the sights, but we did manage to see a lot in the hour and a half that we were on board.

If only there was enough time...

U2 Recording studios.

That night Sarah’s mom and sister had cooked for us: Shepherd’s pie (no veggie in between the beef and potatoes though) with some Irish sausages for dinner and pavlova for dessert. After dinner we all hung out together talking and drinking for a while.

The next morning  after we finished our bus tour of Belfast, one of Sarah's friends, Lucy, and her boyfriend Nathan drove us up to the Giant's Causeway - an area of about 40,000 interlocking basalt columns, the result of an ancient volcanic eruption. After a hearty bowl of Irish lamb stew, Sarah, Jackie and I made the treck down to the Causeway, where this was waiting for us:

The drive home was filled with even more beautiful scenery. I thought Normandy was green, but Ireland takes it to a whole different level.

The next morning after an incredible Ulster fry made by Sarah's dad, we set off for the airport and on to London. Unfortunately for those of you reading this, you'll have to wait a bit longer, as I'm getting ready to go to Florence tomorrow morning. Just think, when I get back (and eventually update) you'll have London and Italy to look forward to. Ciao for now though!

Adieu?

I’ve always been one to really appreciate the little things in life, but with the departure of probably the nicest neighbor I’ll ever have, I’ve realized just how big of a difference those little things make in a person’s life. This week for the first time in eight months when I woke up, there was no more Qunxing, smiling and ever-cheerful to greet me with an enthusiastic “Bonjour!” or “Salut Matt!” No more happy scuttle and right-up-in-your-face conversations; she’s just completed her three-day trek back to her home in central China.

Monday and Tuesday were filled with lasts for her, and I have no idea how she held it together. It was our last meal together, her last time at Sylviane and Jean-François’ house, and her goodbye to Sylviane. I was watching them as they were hugging and seriously I don’t know how she did it. I’m not one to start blubbering when I know I’ll see the person again, but with her I’m pretty sure none of us will be taking a 15 hour train ride from Hong Kong into Wuhan to visit.

Even though she’s only two years older than me, I’ve learned some (what I think anyway are) really important life lessons from her. Lesson one: A smile is the most powerful tool you possess and it’s almost impossible to abuse its power. Lesson two: Smile, laugh, and always appreciate the person next to you because regardless of who they are, you can’t know the impact you’ll have on their life (or they’ll have on yours) until they’re gone. And lastly, while it’s not exactly my definition for the indefinable, the meaning of life is to make a difference in somebody else’s.

Right, so now that you’ve had a healthy dose of Asian sagesse, I’ll recap the week. Things have slowed down a lot here, and when I say a lot I mean it because I’m not one to get bored easily. Usually if I have a book or nice weather or something I can amuse myself, but now that all of the assistants but one are gone, my contract is up, and I have a month and a half until my next “job” over here starts, I’m going a little stir crazy. I’m glad my room gets the morning sun, because otherwise I probably wouldn’t get up until after noon.

There are two words that sum up this week: dinner and walking. Walking because I’ve done tons of it, just as something to get me out of the school and to explore all those roads I’ve always wanted to go down, but never took the time to explore because I was going somewhere else. Dinner because I ate more meals out this week than I did at home; dinner at Sylviane’s, dinner with Qunxing, dinner with one of my teachers Tatiana who made an amazing lapin provençale, and then just last night dinner with some of my students who are graduating this year.

For the foreseeable future I think the cabin fever will be held at bay – tomorrow I’m going to Paris with 40-some British 8th graders on exchange with my collègiens, then Wednesday I leave for my week long adventure to Ireland and England. It pays to know people.

From Louviers, with love

I have to write this now 1) before I forget everything and 2) because my parents are coming tomorrow and I won’t have the chance to update in the next 9 days. Last week may have been the best week of the assistantship, although it’s hard to choose a favorite considering everything I’ve done. It was my last “official” week, but I told all the teachers that I like that if they’d like me to come in again before the school year is over, I’d be more than happy to. After all, I will be here until July and there’s only so much eating, sleeping, and sightseeing that I can do.

Monday I had a great day of tennis on the clay. It was the first time the weather has been nice enough for us to play outside since I got here, and I was anxious to get going. Things started off a little rough, mostly because I was afraid to move too quickly for fear of falling; think of playing on clay as trying to run on ice, not exactly the easiest movement to master. But as we kept playing I started to get the hang of sliding, and actually started to play better than I do indoors. Enigmatic American, playing better on clay, with a penchant for raw-milk cheese, the list goes on. It was the best I’ve ever played against Jean-François (score wise), but that was mostly due to the fact that the day before he was out refereeing a doubleheader.

Tuesday marked the first of the goodbyes. In my morning classes at the lycée after hearing about their trip to London, I gave my last lesson on American television. Five minutes before the bell rang, all the kids thanked me, one told me “je te kiffe” and another, “you is BCBG, beau cul beau gosse!” I let the grammar mistake slide, since I was getting a complement after all, and all of the guys in the class shook my hand before they left – a nice touch I thought – not sure you’d see that happening in America. In the afternoon at the collège, I showed some movie trailers and political propaganda to my class of 3ème Euro, and they made me an impromptu card when they found out it was my last day. Class with my 6ème ended 20 minutes early so that we could go have a little party, during which my students gave me the cards that they had made while everyone was eating their snacks. One girl even bought me a gift herself, a book, a bag of bubble gum (they think that Americans are obsessed with gum) and a petit camembert.

Tuesday evening was “The Last Supper.” I wanted to do something special with all of my assistant friends, so a couple weeks before I had organized a meal at the restaurant d’application that I’d eaten at earlier in the year. It went really, really well – the food was absolutely incredible and everyone was dressed so nice – I honestly could not have asked for a better evening or a nicer sendoff for all of us. For the meal the menu consisted of: Moules et écrevisses en nage safranée, Mignon de veau farci, poires aux algues vertes, Soupe de fruits rouges, Mignardises. What exactly does all this mean? Well check out these photos and try and taste the wonder (also keep in mind that all this food is prepared by kids 16-22):

This was the mise en bouche: on the left is an escargot wrapped in puff pastry, in the middle is a dumpling with an aioli-salsa concoction and on the right is a vegetable purée that was supposed to be poured on the snail, but I ate the snail before I knew what to do with it.

Next came the soup, kind of like a bisque, but not exactly, with mussels and crayfish.

For the main, what had to be the most delicious veal that I've ever tasted, so tender and juicy with an incredible sauce. It was served with a carrot, pear and herb concoction, and seaweed. When all three were in your mouth at the same time - epic mouthgasm.

Of course, at the end of any French meal you have cheese. The only one I knew for sure was the Roquefort, and there was probably a Camembert in there too, since I am in Normandy after all. These were served with a pine nut, pistachio and hazelnut garnish.

And for dessert, a red fruit soup, made with strawberries, raspberries, currants, garnished with mint and served with a rose sorbet and fresh fruit.

After all of this came coffee and tea, with some additional little pastries, and throughout the meal they came around with some excellent wines from Sancerre, one pouilly fuisse and the other a pinot noir. Perhaps the most shocking thing of the entire meal was the price: for 10 of us, only 220 €.This made absolutely no sense since everyone had the cocktail with their mise en bouche, and that was 2,90 €, and the meal itself was 25 €. Basically, what all the other assistants decided was that I got a discount because franchement, je suis trop fort comme assistant. Everyone chipped in 25 € so we left them a nice tip, mais quand même it was a nice surprise.

Afterwards we hung out for a bit back at mine before everyone headed to bed. We spent our last Wednesday afternoon together in Rouen, where we made a stop at Dame Cakes, a tea salon that reminded me of being in a life size version of a little girl's dream dollhouse. Ignore the corny pun if you will, but it really wasn't my cup of tea, and I can't say that I'd ever pay 4,00 € for a cup of tea again. Live and learn.

Thursday afternoon was sad, but a lot of fun at the same time. My first class of 6ème didn't know that it was my last day (even my résponsable didn't realize that it was my last week until I told her on Tuesday). A group of them came up to me after class was over and asked me if I'll be back next year, and that they hope I'll come back soon. I even got a "thank you kind sire" again from one girl and some handshakes from the boys.

My last class with Françoise and her 6ème was really nice, the kids brought in a bunch of different kinds of snacks and drinks, and after they'd given me their cards and Carambar (candy with jokes on the wrapper), we played the French version of Scategories. The students had to answer in English for each of the categories (food, brand, celebrity, famous historical figure, city, film) and the team that I was playing with had to answer the questions in French, and rather than relating to English-speaking countries, ours had to do with Francophone countries. After I led my team to victory twice in a row, the other teams started to get jealous so I rotated. At the end of the class we took a group picture, and all the kids who had cameras on their phones made sure to get a photo with me too. Then on the way home I had a group of randoms should "'ello! You are beautiful!" What a celebrity I've become. And I'd want to leave France why? Exactly.

That evening Qunxing and I had raclette chez Jean-François and Sylviane, which was amazing, yet deceptively filling. I thought I'd finish no problem after I conquered the fondue bourguignonne, but I ended up taking the leftovers home. Even the "trou Normand" (a shot of calva (apple brandy) mid-meal) didn't help make space in my gullet! It might have been that I oversampled the aperitifs, but when you're presented with some authentic punch from Cape Verde, pommeau, muscat, and vin d'orange, you don't let it slip by.

Friday brought with it a much needed excuse to clean my room, since Katie was coming to visit. After some technical difficulties with missing trains and buses (typical French style, messing up travel plans right at the beginning of vacation), I got on a bus to Rouen with the help of one of my students and met Katie at the train station. After wandering around for a bit trying to find our extremely well-hidden hotel, we settled in, grabbed some food at Monoprix, and set off to see Yann Tiersen in concert. For those of you who don't know Yann Tiersen he wrote the music for the film Le Fabuleux Destin d'Amélie Poulain. I was expecting music more like that found in Amélie and on his other CD that I have, Les Retrouvailles, but it was more rock than anything. Even though his, and some of the opening act's (NestorIsBianca) songs were kind of weird, overall the concert was really good. One thing I noticed though, was that French people do not move at all at concerts. They're like statues, just standing there. Some even had their hands on their chin like "The Thinker." It was hard for both Katies (Katie my cousin and Katie an assistant friend from Manchester) and I to stand still. After NestorIsBianca was finished we were lucky enough to find a place on the steps for the rest of the show.

Yann did end up playing a song from Amélie at the end, during the encore, which was the perfect way to end the show. Once the concert was over, we headed back into the center of town and met up with some of the others for our last drinks together in Rouen. I said my goodbyes to everyone, but none of them were too serious because I'll be seeing everyone I said goodbye to in May or June.

Saturday was devoted to sightseeing in Rouen. Our first stop was to climb the tower where Joan of Arc was imprisoned before she was sent to be burned at the stake, only to be told by the man at the front desk that it's a ripoff because the tower she was actually in was destroyed along with most of the castle. It didn't matter that much because we didn't have to pay anyway (all the attractions in Rouen are free from the 15th to the end of the month; bravo on that perfect timing Mom and Dad). After that we visited each of the cathedrals/churches here in Rouen before heading back to mine for a tasty curry dinner. Originally we had planned to go to Deauville for the day, but the weather wasn't so great, yet the alternative wasn't too shabby.

Sunday, Katie had the brilliant idea to go to Giverny (I think I'd mentioned to her that it was nearby before, but I never knew how to get there), and after she found that it was really easy to get to we decided to go. We had an absolutely perfect day weather-wise, sunny skies, not too hot, and it was a good thing because the hour walk from the train station to Monet's house might have been not-so-nice otherwise. The gardens were spectacular even if there were hundreds of people there. I'll let you see for yourself:

Monday I had the chance to get back on the clay, but only for an hour because there's a tennis tournament here this week and there's only one court available for club members. Today, Qunxing treated Jean-François, Sylviane and I to an amazing Chinese buffet. She was nice enough to show me how to make pork dumplings, so I had a hand at them while she was cooking up the rest of the spread. After we finished our lunch on the terrace, we set out on our last adventure together back to Monet's garden and to Château Gaillard, a medieval fortress built in the 12th century under Richard the Lionheart and completed in one year! How they managed to build it in a single year is beyond me, especially when you see the surrounding landscape. I haven't put the pictures from today on my computer yet, but here's a photo I found online to give you an idea of what it looks like:

So now you're up to speed, I'm off tomorrow morning to meet my parents in Paris before bringing them to Rouen, Louviers, back to Paris, and then on to Carcassonne. I'm ready for lots of laughs at the account of one of my visitors, I'm sure many of you readers will be able to guess which one. Wish me luck!

L'aventurier contre tout guerrier

I have no idea who Bob Morane is, but this almost 30 year old gem popped up on Direct Star this morning and was too good not to share. Right, so this post will be dedicated to last weekend's visit to Mont Saint-Michel. Once again Sylviane and Jean-François were gracious enough to take Qunxing and I to a place we wouldn't have been able to go otherwise. We found out along the way that we really are especially lucky because this is the last year that Sylvaine will be in charge of the assistant at Decrétot and may even be the last year that the lycée has an assistant (I guess they save the best for last).

Before the Mont, however, we made a pit stop in Villedieu les Poêles, a town famous for its copper goods and its bell foundry. After stocking up with supplies (fresh pain and jambon, apple gateau, and rillette )for our picnic later in the day, we headed to the Cornille-Havard bell foundry; one of the remaining three in France, from an original +300. At first I thought that it would be kind of dumb, especially since I was anxious to get to Mont Saint-Michel, but it was actually really interesting to see how they make these massive (and ornate) bells.

The floor is made of wood so that if the bell falls while it's being moved it won't break.

They put these on the bells before they are cast to create all the different emblems.

Around noon we left for Mont Saint-Michel, but stopped along the way for a picnic. We had a full spread of bread, cheese, fresh ham, rillette (more addicting than Cheez-its and pistachios), sausage, gherkins, homemade potato and green bean salad, and apple cake. All of this in the middle of a field next to a pasture of sheep with the Mont in the distance.

If you look closely you'll notice that some of the grass has a grayish hue, that's because the sea comes all that way up. Just to give you an idea of how far away that is, Mont Saint-Michel is surrounded by it in the distance.

Once our stomachs were full, we continued on to the Mont, where already the lots were almost full and the pedestrian path was crowded with visitors. Thanks to my Pass d'Education I didn't have to pay to get in, and I'm especially glad I didn't pay because our guide was awful. After the first room, I just stopped listening to him because you couldn't understand a word he was saying. He was more or less just talking into his scarf and had absolutely no enthusiasm for being a tour guide. I didn't feel so bad though, because even Sylviane gave up on him and as we went from room to room, we just waited for Jean-François to re-articulate what the guide couldn't.

The cloister.

Tour heading out while it's still low tide - watch out for quicksand!

The only drawback of the day was the fact that it was just so crowded. I can't even imagine what it must be like in the summer, at the height of the tourist season. Also, I really would have liked to have seen it at high tide, but it was at 11.00 PM, so there was no way that was going to happen. All in all, I couldn't have asked for a nicer day.

À la vôtre

I'm pretty sure it's safe to say that I was aptly named - Matthew, meaning "Gift of God" - so thanks for that one Mom and Dad. I have no idea what I did in my past life, but I must have been a saint or something to earn the life I have now.

I started last week with some seriously delicious pork chops and some good news on the employment front (and I got yet another offer from a school to work for them, bringing my total to 6; it's nice being in demand). Tuesday was filled with lots of laughs - first at collège and then later at a fajita night with the Mexican assistant. So I found out that the bug that I had a couple of weeks ago ended up getting the teacher who had invited me over for dinner and her two kids sick, and I joked with her that it looks like I won't be invited back there for dinner any time soon. She told me that when she went to the doctor's he gave her a really high dose of cortisone and penicillin, as well as a couple of other drugs to round out the cocktail. Oops. I couldn't help but laugh when I heard her rasping through taking attendance, but the joke ended up being on me because I had to give a lesson for the entire period, rather than just half. It was a group of 3ème (14-15 year olds) so I decided to talk about high school, since if they were in the United States that's where they'd be. I showed them a couple of excerpts from "Glee" and a film called "American Teenager" because they talk about typical high school stereotypes, which they really liked and they were fascinated by my yearbook.

At this point I don't remember what happened during the rest of the week (that's what I get for not writing things down as they happen), so I'll just skip to the weekend. Right, so Sylviane and Jean-François took Qunxing and I on yet another adventure, this time into the Champagne region of France where they make - you guessed it - champagne (pronounced shum-pan-yuh). While the most famous city of this region is Reims, they took us to a smaller, but still well known town called Château-Thierry. Thanks to the lovely folks at Joël Michel, within a half hour, after some 15-16 generously filled glasses I was well on my way to being completely ratassed. We tasted the vin clair of each of the wines that are used to make their champagne (pinot meunier, pinot noir and chardonnay), as well as some nice red wines and a ratafia; an aperitif similar to the pommeau made here in Normandy, but instead of adding cidre they add champagne.

What happened next was a complete surprise; one because it was so good and two because it was so unexpected. After we had finished our tastings, they sat us down and prepared a meal for us with hors d'oeuvres to start, followed by ribs, jerk chicken, salad, boudin (blood sausage), andouillette (made from intestines), a cheeseboard featuring several kinds of brie, which is the cheese typical of Champagne, and a bunch of fancy pastries for dessert. All of this fo' FREE!

Throughout the meal they must have popped open two or three dozen bottles of champagne for us to drink, including a really nice millésime from 2002 (millésime means that it's an "exceptional" champagne). I would have liked to have bought a bottle of it, but it was pretty expensive, so I settled for a bottle of ratafia and a mini-bottle of a different, but still good, champagne. The atmosphere was really nice - it actually reminded me of a holiday meal with my family - even though we were all strangers we got along like we'd known each other for years. We talked about where we were from, what we thought of the food/tasting, etc. and as I was enjoying my cheese, one of my neighbors commented that he'd never met an American that liked fromage au lait cru (cheese made from unpasteurized milk). Admittedly, I might have overdone it a bit, because on the car ride home I was dying of thirst. But the ride was long, and I slept most of the way because I knew I had to be rested for that night.

In France, unlike in America, they keep the vines close to the ground so that they have to struggle. This results in better grapes, which means better wine.

Saturday night was the last night out for my group of friends. The nine others were already at Caoimhlin's for a barbecue, so I met them and had a bite to eat before we headed out. While at the barbecue Liz and I spent a lot of the time talking with a student named Thomas who studied at UNC's business school and is now working for a semester in the marketing department at Ferrero, the company that makes Nutella. The club that we went to was crap, but the company was more important than the environment. There were a lot déjà-vu moments, especially in photos, where things happened exactly the same was as they did at the beginning of this experience. We finally left around 4.30, but nobody wanted to leave because we all knew what it meant. We're having "The Last Supper" at the restaurant at my school this week and after that c'est la fin.

I'm amazed at how quickly these past seven months have passed. When I was younger I never believed my parents when they told me that time only goes faster as you get older, but already I'm starting to notice it. Ça ne nous rajeunit!

Bingo!

So today was great for two reasons. First, I got an email I've been anxiously awaiting for a couple of weeks now; one asking me to participate in the first session of Région Langues. What does that mean? Well it means that I no longer have to worry about living two months on April's salary, and rather than spending May watching every centime, I can be a little more lax when it comes to my expenses. And secondly, I made this for dinner:

Oriental taboulé with braised pork chops, caramelized mushrooms and shallots in a Benedictine and creme reduction.  
Good ideas: I'm full of them.

When life gives me lemons, I make limeade

Yeah, that's how I do it. One of many things about life in France that I really like is the fact that I'm never at a loss for things to do. Forget grass growing under my feet, not even dust has the chance to settle down over here. It's a much appreciated change of pace from home, one that I'm especially going to miss as the first of the final three weeks (!!!!!) of teaching gets underway.

So the sun has finally decided to return to Normandy. With warmer weather and sunny skies, I could think of only one place I'd like to be: the beach. So on Friday, after recruiting some of the other assistants to go with me, I'd decided that we'd be heading to Deauville. Unfortunately, on Saturday morning, after sprinting down the street to make the 8.55 bus, I got a text from Sam asking where I was because I missed it. Unbeknownst to me, the bus schedule had changed in February, and after taking another bus to the station hoping in vain that I'd make the 9.28 train, before I knew it I was on my way back to Louviers, deciding what to do next. Sure I had some errands that needed to be done, but I was jealous of the others going to Deauville sans moi.

As I was thinking about what to do, I got a call presenting me with an alternative that I'd overlooked: Paris. Durrr. Win. Problem solved. I met the others that I was supposed to go to the beach with and we spent the day in Paris. Our first stop was for some scrumtrulescent falafel in the Jewish quarter. Even though the Jewish Sabbath is Saturday (a fun fact I never knew), and the restaurant Fiona had originally intended us to go to was closed, I inhaled mine and was more than satisfied with my food baby.

After lunch, we decided to go for a walk along the Seine; can't get much more Parisian than that. Before we'd even made it to the more pedestrian-friendly side of the river, we saw the first of several Bateaux-Mouches cruise by and another light bulb started blazing.

 

After the boat ride was finished and we were walking along the Seine away from the Eiffel Tower, I had another "am I dreaming?" moment. It will never get old. Paris, Deauville, Louviers, it doesn't matter where I go, the feeling's the same: ma vie, c'est top!