My legs hurt.

I figured I needed to get that out in the open first.

So our hotel is right behind the University of Paris, a little to the southwest of Notre Dame. We walked along the waterfront to the Eiffel Tower, then up to the Arc de Triomphe, then down the Avenue des Champs Elysees, then around the Grand Palais (which had a very expensive exhibit going on) and through the Petit Palais (which was freeeeeee!) then along the water front, cutting in front of Notre Dame again and back to the hotel.

All in all, about fifteen kilometers, though with all the wandering going on, that's probably a little conservative.

We also went up the Arc de Triomphe, which was stairs only, and a whole damned lot of them. I think my mom said it was about two hundred and fifty stairs.

Anyway. I digress.

My legs are tired.

So this morning I leap out of bed, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, and ready to seize the day.

Breakfast is tea and fresh baguette with nutella. Dad goes off to his silly conference thing. Mom and I head toward the Eiffel Tower.

"I want to take the metro," I say.

"Don't be silly," says mom. "Let's walk."

The morning was cool and there was a mist rolling in front the Sein. It was very pretty. I could not manage to get my camera straight.

Perhaps I was drunk.

Well, it IS Paris.

We walked and walked and walked. It was about an hour's walk. The scenery was very pretty.

On the way there, my mother fell for the 'found ring' scam.

That is to say, someone approaches you, saying they just found a ring, and is it yours?

When you say no, it's not yours, they show you a stamp on the ring verifying how 'real' it is, then will offer to sell it to you.

My mother laughed and played along, not knowing it was a scam. I'd read about this scam, so I didn't want anything to do with it, but my mom gave the woman two euros. The woman insisted on more, but my mother at least laughed at her and said no, so she left.

The other popular scam is a woman (usually) shows up with a clipboard indicating she's deaf or mute and wants a signature and a donation. My mother didn't fall for that one at all.

Anyhoo.

We saw this magnificent doorway, quite by accident when I was looking for batteries.

All the other buildings around it were very plain and boring (HAHAHAHA LIKE PARIS IS *EVER* BORING!) but this whole building was like this.

The upper balconies were all done in copper or brass, and were now dripping green and lovely.

So nouveau. The building cornerstone said it was built in 1901, I believe.

I want this building.

If you really loved me, you'd buy it for me.

(I tried that with my mother. Her response was: "HA!")

Anyway. This is across the street to the southeast corner of the Eiffel Tower. Not far at all.

We checked out the Eiffel Tower.

It was pretty big.

There were ENORMOUS lines. My mom and I took some pictures and then decided we couldn't be arsed to go up it.

It was very expensive.

And really, I didn't have anybody but my mother to snog with, and that's a whole lot of GROOOOOSSSS.

So we didn't go up. (I hear the best is to go up right before sunset and snog with someone cute and watch the sun go down from the top.)

Took a few pictures. Shooed away scammers.

Y'know. The usual.

We hopped the street and cut across the Esplanade du Trocadero, which I had no idea what it was called until I looked it up just now.

It was more like: "Let's cut across that great big palace thingie that has no real significance!"

I'm still not sure what it was for. It was kind of tacky, to be honest.

Anyway, we headed toward the Arc de Triomphe. There were a LOT of school groups around, doing the walk between the tower and the arch. The arch itself wasn't too crowded. Down below there were quite a few people, but mom and I paid our 8 euros and went up it (TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY STAIRS!) and it wasn't very crowded on top. Way less crowded than the Eiffel Tower, I think.

Many, many pretty pictures.

I couldn't believe how hazy Paris was. I still didn't feel good about breathing.

There wasn't a lot to do on the top of the Arc de Triomphe. You couldn't see how pretty it was. You could just look at the view and try not to strangle sulking school children.

So we didn't stay long on the top.

We went down (TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY STAIRS!!) and my mother made me take strange photos with the statuary (*sigh*).

So we walked down the Champs-Elysees, and headed toward the Grand Palais and the Petis Palais.

The Grand Palais was having some sort of very expensive exhibit, but the Petit Palais was open and freeeeeeeeee!

While we were in there, I happened to glance out the window.

SHIT SHIT! IT'S LADY FRANCE!

WE DON'T WANT YOUR STINKING LAURELS, LADY FRANCE!

STOP CHASING US!

She left after that.

Ye gods. You think a woman could take no for an answer.

The Petit Palais was BEAUTIFUL.

The exhibit was later period than I generally like (1700's and on), but they had some AMAZING art nouveau stuff, which I really liked.

Like this necklace.

The picture isn't great. I'm sorry.

It's all gold and blue opals.

Mmmmmmmmmm...

Delicious.

If I had more money than brains, this is what I'd buy.











Anyway. I don't have anything more to say about that necklace, so I'm just gonna keep going.

I was very tired by this point. I ended up ditching my mother in the museum and lounging on the stairs outside and trying not to fall asleep.

My mother conceded that perhaps our day was done. It was pushing 6pm, and I was on my weepy stage (which MAY have had something to do with my mother not wanting to stop for a REAL lunch or pick anything up at grocery stores, and me eating a granola bar and a handful of nuts for lunch).

So back we went. We picked up some stinky cheese and not stinky meat at the grocery store on the way home (and I slipped a bottle of wine into the order), and we went and met the old geezer back at the hotel.

"Where did THIS come from?" my mother exclaimed in horror as she pulled out the wee bottle of wine.

I grinned, and yoinked it from her, and drank the whole damned thing. (It was only a wee bottle.)

My mom decided she wanted to go to a Chopin concert at one of the nearby churches, and declared my father and I uncultured for abandoning it to her.

She came back raving about how wonderful it was. I made some terrible joke about the pianest "CHOPPIN' AT THAT PIANO HAHAHAHAHAHA" which nobody laughed at, and probably for good reason.

Then I passed out before I finished this blog post, which is why I'm not finishing it at breakfast.

Mmm. Baguette.

Today, the menu holds Versaille!

I'll let you know how things go.

Ta!