Life: Idiotropic

And I totally forgot that it was a holiday. Not until I went online and saw several "Happy 4th of July" messages, did I realize that it was THE 4th of July. We were just thinking of it as a happy continuation of our "vacation" and Arianna's 8th.

So, unable to find cake yesterday, I asked the reception at our apartment where I could find a good bakery. The lady took out a map of Beziers, highlighted the two main streets, and told me of several "famous" bakeries there. She forgot to tell us about the French "siesta." Just 5 minutes from our place we arrived in the center of town near the main street lined with trees, a wide pedestrian walkway in the middle of the street with cafe tables spilling on to it so that waitresses have to dodge the teens with their boom boom music to serve their guests their espresso drinks.

We walked down one end of the street through a few blocks of antique vendors looking and curious, but not seeing anything at "give away" prices and with no space in our vehicles to haul anything mid move. Walked back to the end in the other direction looking for a patisserie, but finding none, stopped for lunch at Cafe du Theatre. I had a delicious salad with marinated chicken, pineapple and grapefruit, then tomatoes stuffed with beef and herbs. Absolutely delicious.

The entire area was empty when we arrived at 1, but by 2 was getting busy. Shops were supposed to re-open at 2:30, but apparently not the patisseries. We walked again down the other main street, found several bakeries, but they were all closed.

There is one pretty square there with a fountain, statue, and merry-go-round, a long pedestrian walk lined with trees, but that was it. I think the pedestrian area off to the left might be nice, but we didn't go there and the other main road that we were told to see was fairly dirty, full of Chinese restaurants, and certainly not nice to look at by any stretch. There is something to be said for the user friendly, overly clean German city centers that I've been accustomed to.

So we left, rested at our apartment, then went to the beach again this time I went shopping a bit while Kirk and the kids played. Vias had a nice patisserie, and being a touristy beach town, it didn't close, so I found a delicious cappuccino cake that I knew Arianna would like, bought some baguettes and small groceries for dinner, a bottle of local wine, then headed back to the beach to play leaving it all in the car.

Sat next to a nice British couple who spend 3 months driving around Europe each summer in their camper. Watched Kirk build sand castles with Elise, then bury Luci and Arianna almost completely in sand.

Home for dinner, cake, and some packing up before our last long drive to our new home.

Boy, our lives are rough. If the girls ever whine about moving, I'll have to remind them of days like this... lounging on the beach in the south of France with out a care in the world. Surely this balances some of the stress of a crazy move.

A slow sleepy morning. We were told that most of the beaches clear from 1-4 because it’s so hot. By 11 were were ready, but wouldn’t have enough time at the beach, so hungry with nothing to eat, we ventured out to Vias, to see the beach, walk the strip, and find a good birthday lunch for Arianna’s 8th.

The narrow two-lane strip of road into town ended at a parking lot at the beach side. Each side of the road lined with restaurants, tacky gift shops, and expansive open-front shops of ice cream and slushies. All very typical of a beach town any where in the world, other than some of the signage, it didn’t seem particularly French. Just beachy.

Reading placards on the sidewalk, we stopped at El Jardin. Arianna got the fish menu - Formule Mer avec Couteaux, St. Jacques, Brochette de gambas, rouget et capitain, taboule et salade verte. Kirk and I got the duck menu which was amazing. All stuffed and happy, but roasting in the sun, we bought groceries for later, then had quiet in the cool of the apartment until about 4:30 when the breeze had picked up enough to cool us.

The Med reminds me of the gulf in Florida - tiny barely there waves, long beaches, lengthy shallows... But shells are sparse, so the beach comber in me didn’t collect much. Long rocky bars stretched out to the edge of the shallows each 100 feet may be all the way down the beach as long as I could see. Some of those ended in Ts built up so that fishermen could reach the depths where the larger fish swam. We didn’t see any fish in the shallows - just lots of people of all ages swimming, playing games, and relaxing in the sun. Even Elise walked quite a ways out into the water comfortable in the baby waves and shallow water.

Tiara spent most of her time on towels under our huge umbrella. I helped Elise body surf in the beginning, then joined T under the umbrella to rest and gather some sun. Normally we enjoy the people watching, but I think the number of older topless ladies put that to a halt. It didn't bother me as much, but T wasn't quite comfortable with it. She'll have time to adjust in Spain.

Tired for the beach, stopped for a scoop of “birthday” ice cream before heading home. I got coffee (good) and vanilla (below average). It felt amazingly good, natural, relaxing... to walk casually down the sidewalk towards our car slowly enjoying our ice cream until it was gone. I don’t think I had relaxed at all until then, but at that moment, the car was loaded, every one was happy, and I just felt the tension fall away. We got back after 8 and snacked on the groceries we’d bought before. Divided up into the two rooms we'd booked, and crashed until morning, one more day of beach left before another long drive.

PHOTOS: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=126234&id=674507268&l=5107008410

One LONG morning doing the Paris traffic crawl, an hour, may be more until we could drive normally. Played the alphabet game through it with Arianna and Tiara using the rule that while in France, we could use French vocabulary as well as English. That made the letter X a lot easier.

One stop for gas, a 10 minute power nap, and some snacks for the road to get us through. It was needed. After field upon field of bright sunflower fields, we hit the heaviest rain of my life, blinding rain so hard I couldn’t see the lane markings or the guard rails and navigated only by the fog light on Kirk’s truck and the faint shadow of the semi-truck beside me praying we wouldn’t collide. 2 minutes of terror.

That broke into sun, a river, and a lush green canyon of winding roads that reminded us so completely of Oregon then we crossed the mountain to the stark contrast - dry hills, sparse trees - where even the architecture changed dramatically looking more like what I know of Spain and no longer France... like California and not Oregon... that same line of change you see on I5 somewhere around Crater Lake.

One stop at an amazing bridge - the Millau Viaduct - that I’d seen in an email forward last year and never imagined I’d actually drive over it. Walked to the to the top of the hill for photo ops. Let Misha get out and walk in the grass. Found out that the handicapped restroom had a toilet instead of a hole. So thankful that the French don’t expect their handicapped to stand on little foot shapes over a hole. My little ones were horrified and ready to just hold it indefinitely if that was their only option. When we came out, the line was to the door with all the other stalls open. Apparently we aren’t the only ones who prefer to sit.

Arrived in Beziers in the spitting rain with a double rainbow ahead. Found our apartment without too much trouble. It is new - completely new having just opened a couple weeks ago. Even the dishes in our apartment still had the stickers on them from the store. The staff were bend-over backwards friendly, smiling, one speaking near perfect British English. We were starving, but didn’t want to drive. Pizza delivery saved the day - A boy in Bermuda shorts on a Mo-ped with a tiny box tied to the back, bright yellow with the red words, “pizza cool.” Had pasta, pizza, sandwiches for the girls. Cartoons on TV. Air conditioned rooms are nice, but why oh why doesn't our internet work? I'm going through withdrawal.

PHOTOS: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=126229&id=674507268&l=5cf91330b9

Our hotel has a large breakfast which is fairly decent with a small corner for “kids only” with IKEA plastic bowls and cups and strange IKEA decorations sprinkled about. My kids ate mostly from the regular side of the breakfast room, but Arianna did venture over long enough to find pudding - coffee flavored. Seems a bit odd to me for the children’s buffet, but then again, this is France.

Got on the hot, sticky, crowded bus to Disney, off at the Chessy station, looked both ways, then just followed the crowd. Got in before opening time to the shopping areas for photo ops in front of the castle, but the areas with rides were all closed off until the official opening time at 10 - another reason to stay at one of the Disney hotels. Crowded, but not impossible, we began our day in Discoveryland where we learned the beauty of the Fastpass and got onto rides super quick. Kirk took the youngest on the Orbitron while Tiara and I took Arianna on Space Mountain. My theory was that once Arianna did the “scariest” roller coaster, then she’d love it, be over her fear, and then love the rest. My theory was wrong. She didn’t cry or scream and did give us a half smile after the ride, but wouldn’t admit that it was fun, nor would she go on any ride scarier than Pirates of the Caribbean for the rest of the day.

Luci, however, my adventurous one, was upset that she is not tall enough yet for Space Mountain and at the end of the day listed Space Mountain as one of her favorites even though she didn’t actually ride it. Big Thunder Mountain, the biggest ride that she did go on, was at the top of her list.

May be I’m just getting old, but the thrill of a hot, crowded amusement park is gone. I still love the fast rides, but want a park where the exit for one huge roller coaster ends right at the entrance for the next big roller coaster. Forget the shopping, random games, endless walking in the heat, and spinney kiddie rides. I want misters in all the lines and endless fast rides without the time spent walking from one to the other. Hot crowds with little kids is not my cup of tea.

The littles loved the rides - Elise cried through the Pirates line, but laughed while on it and did it a second time. They were disappointed (as was I) that there weren’t more characters walking around. May be it was the stifling heat, but we only saw a handful of characters and all at times when we couldn ’t do photo ops, so it was my costume-phobic teen that got the only photo and this was against her will when the others were at the haunted house.

I don’t remember the costumes at Disneyland (the original) being so bad, but oh my, the costumes that the employees have to wear here in Paris are beyond silly. I do feel for them. Tres embarrassing!

The end of the day we walked back to the bus through a maze of random vendors with their blankets of goods spread over the square, battery operated African dancers and walking cows being the hot items of the day wiggling back and forth through the crowds of hot tired people. It was odd. Made the tacky Eiffel tower souvenirs look high end.

Dinner was amazing - Lebanese food from Noura at the mall, a vast improvement from the bland Korean the night before, and sandwiches for the littles from a cafeteria. Sleep came quickly looking ahead to the 7 hour drive the following day.

Photos: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=126233&id=674507268&l=9101e96300

Some experiences are best savored in the company of a good friend, so this morning, leaving Kirk and the girls (fabulous travel companions, but a cumbersome lot) behind to enjoy a lazy morning, Mom and I took off to see a neighborhood market I'd heard about from none other than the elementary school principal.

Our Saturday morning was brisk, but clear and we'd been given carte blanch from Kirk who told us to enjoy the time and not worry about sticking to a schedule. Perfect. From our living room window we could see the meat vendor set up -- the first of a line of awnings that stretched for blocks down the sidewalk on Rue de la Glaciere. Not to miss anything, we went there first. Among the meats sat a large pan steaming hot from the heat below heaped high with sauerkraut with strips of bacon and a few sausages steaming on top. The cheese sellers were enough to convince me to move to Paris forever. Oh, you name the cheese, it was there - well, at least the good ones. And cheeses with nuts and others with herbs and some with bits of dried fruit. A day alone could have easily been spend smelling, photographing, and tasting each little piece of beautiful cheese so perfectly formed, it was art. The fruit and vegetables were beautiful too - I think markets just make things look nice.

Really, I love markets. It's not the shopping as I rarely purchase much, but markets in the places I've been seem to be the heartbeat of a place. It's local. It's day to day life. And there, you can learn a little more about the culture of the people who live there.

The Christmas trees were not sold as we've seen them ready to be put into a stand - but here, they're already in a stand of sorts. A log is cut in half lengthwise so that the bottom is flat and the top is the arched half of the stump. Then a hole in the center is cut to the width of the tree trunk which is then put into the stump stand. It is simple, natural, and beautiful. Our smile of the morning was watching an elderly lady who had purchased a small tree try to put it into her small wheeled shopping bag. She and the seller tried for several minutes, but finally gave up and just strapped it to the outside.

I always enjoy the olive and dried fruit vendors. This one had beautiful baklava and figs still on their branches - something that I'd never seen before. The flowers were beautiful too. So, I opted for a nice floral basket with a small flocked pine, some holly, and hyasinth bulbs as a substitute for a tree since we were staying in an apartment for the holiday. (and yes, mom, some of the plants are still alive 7 weeks later - though not by much!)

On the way back towards the apartment where we had to stop to drop off my plant, we passed a very thin, but very friendly man wearing a Santa Claus suit at the market and selling inexpensive toys. He asked us where we were from, then stood talking to us for a few minutes telling us how much he loved Americans and America. It was nice. So often we only hear the negative. It really felt good to hear the positive... but then, that's what I've gotten most in France. The French people really are very warm overall.

From this market we took the green line from La Glaciere to Place d' Italia where we saw quite a few homeless still sleeping on the metro benches as we waited for our train even though it was almost 10. We transferred there to the pink line and got off at Place Monge. A short walk and we were on the infamous Rue Mouffetard. Famous for it's market, this street is one of the oldest in Paris - part of the original Roman road via Lyon. It's narrow (wouldn't want to drive it, but people do drive on the upper half - the bottom is a pedestrian only zone) at only 18 feet wide, but full of character.


The first thing I noticed was not one, but two fondue restaurants sitting opposite each other -both very inviting. Not knowing which direction to go, we first walked up the street a ways looking inside many cute boutiques picking up things and saying, "we'll come back here later when we stop for lunch." Bubbles are in. Short swing coats with bubbled sleeves, bubbled collars, and bubbled bottoms. In all colors, the warm wool coats came in mid lengths and short. Tops did the same - flaring out and bubbling. Cute. It was all I could do not to buy a few. The prices (if you didn't think too hard on the Euro conversion rate) were really quite reasonable. In fact, if we lived there and got paid in local currency, I think I'd shop there for clothes quite frequently. (Clothes and cheese, chocolate and cheese, a duck and cheese...)

Every facade talked. I mean, those buildings didn't just sit there. You couldn't walk past them without noticing them, taking in the details, and pausing, almost as if waiting for the building to say something. Sometimes I wish these buildings were set up like children's museum exhibits with a large button on the side so I could run up and push it and wait for the commentary to run... "... in 1234 a flamboyant French hat maker married the butcher's daughter and moved to this home where he expanded his business to make headware for the butcher's livestalk during the big freeze of '35..." Ok... I'm sure the building would say something better. It's late and my imagination is pretty shot at this hour. Besides, history is almost always more phenomenal and tawdry.

When the buildings started to look too normal, we turned around and went the other direction figuring that the market would be somewhere more interesting. That, and we, being women, stopped and asked directions from a young and quite handsome Frenchman who, to our great fortune, spoke English beautifully and was very friendly and willing to help.

The market at the Rue Mouffetard is not the traditional market in the sense that things are not brought to that location in a temporary setting. Unlike the market in Sittard and other markets whose large centralized squares are empty spaces on non-market days with vendors setting themselves up with folding tables and temporary awnings one or two special days each week, on this street, the shops established there allow themselves to spill out onto the busy street creating a sort of open market for the locals who shop there and the tourists who come to gawk at the chocolates, cheeses, and hanging ducks. Only at the very end, in front of old church, can you find just a couple produce stands set up on rickety tables and awnings with no permanent structure to shelter them.

So, it begins, in all it's glorious deliciousness, with the cheese shop. Can you tell I'm totally entranced by good cheese? And I don't even eat that much cheese! But this is special and oh, so tempting! Goat cheeses everywhere and bries and camenberts... nuts and fruits and peppers... oh my! The fois gras shop stood across the street with a glossy poster of a goosely gaggle on the window. I get it, but really. I don't want a photo of a beautiful cow batting it's big beautiful eyes on my ground beef package, so a photo of a goose running around a field doesn't help sell the idea of goose liver pate which is too sweet and rich for my taste anyway.

The next was the wine shop where we lingered a bit... mom shopping and me just people watching. Eventually I did have to break down and taste the champagne. Mmmmm... nothing to complain about there. So far I have yet to taste a bad French wine while in France. Once customer had tied her little dog there and the boys who were working there kept talking to him and watching out for him. It was very sweet. Saw some Spanish tourists tasting wines too - those Spanish are everywhere! (In London there was a day I heard Spanish more than English!)

The fish shop was fun - colorful and exotic. Two chocolate shops got my attention though I didn't actually buy anything (what is wrong with me????). Now I can't for the life of me figure out why I didn't even get a small truffle to sample. It all looked amazingly delicious and the girls working in the shop were friendly and helpful. Christmas time in France and I didn't buy chocolate... really. I must get my head examined.

The most shocking and interesting shops were the meat shops where whole geese, ducks, and roosters hung above the counters with their feathered heads still quite attached. I took a photo of one particular batch, then, noticing me, the man behind the counter took the duck's head and turned it up to look at me for another photo, which I should have taken, but didn't. It was a funny moment though - a glimpse of the French humor which we actually saw quite a bit of this trip. And, it eased my bit of worry that I was bothering these people with my obnoxious picture taking. I suppose they are used to it and probably get as many giggles from us silly tourists taking pictures of ducks and cheese as we do looking at those things. I mean really... I would have to laugh if someone walked into a Walmart back home and started taking pictures of the deli counter. It would be odd.


Anyway... one shop had enormous rabbits too - truly. Giant rabbits the size of medium dogs hanging by the feet still furry and cute. (And not nearly as morbid as the fully skinned rabbits in Spain recognizable only by their large teeth)

At the end of the market portion of the Rue, a very small square filled with fruit and vegetable vendors sat in front of this pretty little white church which stands now simple and peaceful despite it's rather odd history. Older than the Parisian Notre Dame, it was the scene of some hysteria in the 1700's. Across from this church is an amazing building with an intricately painted facade.

When exhausted by marketing, we walked back up to one of the little fondue places that we'd stopped at before. There were many that looked good, but this one had a cow outside that made us pause to talk to the staff the first time we walked by there asking them if they were open. They were so friendly that we went back.

We both had fondue thick and greasy, stringy and full of flavor, coating our buttery potatoes, slices of Ardenne ham (sliced super thin like prosciutto), and chunky bread. Chased down with good French wine. Ahhh. Mmmmm. Conversation halted for a moment - a clear sign that the food was not served to be discussed, but eaten.








For dessert, I enjoyed a dense, and quite intense, creme brulee and a cappuccino
I took a couple photos inside while we were there - not a lot, but enough to remember the place with it's vintage advertisements on the walls and the red stoneware fondue pots on every table.. One of the men working there led me to the back of the restaurant before I left to show me the courtyard there decorated with Christmas trees and potted plants.

At the end of our lunch, we slooooooowly walked back the the Metro line that would take us back to Glaciere, stopping in each and every inviting shop on our way, touching this fabric and that, trying on hats, and dreaming of our return to Mouffetard and all that we'd get there.

Looking back on our colorful morning at the markets, I must show you these two photos... one, a vintage style advert for a bowling alley took me quite by surprise. It's not something I'd expect to see here of all places, but upon seeing this, I did turn my head to the right to see, tucked in the back of a indoor center, another sign for the bowling alley inside.

The other delight was closer to the church when I was coming out of an alley with the most beautiful flower shop hidden inside... in front of me was le Marche Franprix. Not a store that stood out in anyway except for the three gentlemen sitting on the steps in front of it. One played an accordian and as we were walking away, the other two began to sing. It was a simple thing, but very beautiful - three friends enjoying a Saturday afternoon playing music in their neighborhood.

Versailles, France is just outside the city of Paris 40 minutes by train, so it takes a little bit of effort to go there. Our last trip to Paris, we just ran out of time, so this time we didn't want to miss it.

We boarded the train at Glaciere and switched from the #6 line to #13 at Montparnasse, then from the #13 to the C train at Invalides. There was a little confusion when we got to the train. The tunnels are interwoven so you can go from a METRO to a RER train without leaving the maze underground. Above our heads where we waited were large black signs that flipped really quickly when a train left to announce what the next train would be and every single stop it would make. We got on the two-tiered train and went to the top for a better view. Just minutes after it began to move we heard accordion music just like the music that we hear on the bridges near the Notre Dame. And then the player began to walk up to our tier, playing a traditional French tune before switching to Jingle Bells, smiling, then handing out his little change purse so that we could tip him.

The train station at Versailles is very small and though I had in my head that we would step out and see the palace, that wasn't the case. The little I saw of the town was nice though. All the buildings are beautiful and the streets are very clean. It took all of about 5 minutes to walk to the palace which stood absolutely huge in the distance once we turned the corner. With our museum passes, there were no lines. Just a simple airport style metal detector and we were in.

The palace is immense spreading on seemingly in all directions, but only about 10% of it is actually open for tours. Still, what I thought would be a quick walk through was actually a pretty decent tour. I think we spent an hour or more walking through part of the lower and upper floors as well as the prince's quarters. The chapel was the most impressive seen from both the lower and upper floors with a series of columns around the room all engraved with beautiful vases, birds, flowers, and ribbons. The floor was marble tile. The ceiling, vaulted and painted exquisitely, looked like the ceiling of a stand-alone church more than a private chapel. The magnitude of opulence throughout definitely put history in perspective thinking of those famous words, "let them eat cake."

Upstairs we walked through a crowded series of rooms containing more sterling silver than I'd seen in my life in addition to a wealth of other treasures. I seems everything comes in sterling - I wish I could have taken photos. We pushed through there pretty quickly... the kids were not amused and the crowds were too thick to really enjoy the displays. From those dark, stifling rooms, we entered a grand hall with large floor to ceiling windows all the way down showing the gardens outside, huge crystal chandeliers hanging from the all too high ceiling, mirrors, golden statues holding candelabras, and more intricately painted ceilings. It was bright, open, and majestic - the perfect throne room... that is, until you get to the throne. Hmm. This was the one and only grand disconnect. Granted, may be the throne is too much for the likes of mere tourists or may be it was destroyed by those not eating cake. Who knows. I do know that at the end of this tremendous hall was a very poorly done display of cardboard/particle board shapes with what looked like photocopied pictures of the statues leading up the the not so grand paper/particle throne itself. It wouldn't even look remotely decent in a photograph, but to go from complete grandeur to this was more irritating than comical.

The queen's quarters impressed the girls the most who loved her bedroom. In the prince's quarters downstairs was a beautiful library, impressive wall sized battle paintings, and large glass doors leading out to the garden where I young prince could easily sneak out... or sneak someone in.

From there we went back to the main entrance to get a quick snack - slices of pizza and a muffin (pizza is everywhere). Then we made our way to the gardens that I'm sure are much more impressive in the spring and summer. Not that they aren't impressive, but it is winter and all the fountains are frozen and the flowers are gone. The conical trees cast interesting shadows around the gardens of boxwood crests and Fleur de lis. Wide swirls of bare earth showed where flowers might bloom in the spring. To one side of the castle we could look over the edge of the garden to see two large ponds and other gardens below. In front, large statues stood guard around the frozen ponds while the birds ran around on the cold ice.

And with the tiers of green and water, it does look like it goes on forever - the cross shaped canal in the distance.

We walked down the steps past the first large fountain with frog creatures among the statues then zig zagged through the gardens on the paths hard and frozen among fenced off sections of trees - all deciduous and all planted or allowed to grow without any rhyme or reason. It was perfectly ordered array of patterned trails with nicely placed fountains at each intersection and an old open air theater hidden in one corner among thicket after thicket of fenced off sticks, essentially. Yes, it was winter, but I wasn't impressed. And, the best gardeners can tell you to plan for winter by planting certain things to fill in. And this is Versailles - where the gardens are raved about. Yeah, ok. They are big and symmetric.


Once we hit the beginning of the large crossed shaped canal/lake, we'd pretty much decided that a) it was way to cold to walk any farther, and b) we needed something hot to defrost us. Had I known how many little places we'd pass on the way back to the train station, I would have pushed the group to leave, but instead, we stopped at La Flotilla, a little restaurant near the water where we all indulged in ice cream and espresso/hot chocolate. This is also where I had what will be ranked among my top cappuccino sides (the little goodies that always come free here with a cappuccino) - an amazingly delicious cocoa covered almond (amade cocaotee from www.chocogam.fr). The waiter was very nice and the man who seemed to be in charge kept flirting with my cranky Elise who ended up with the very last balloon as a treat to convince her to talk with him.

The sunset on the frozen pond was beautiful walking back, but the temperature was dropping quickly and after the day of walking, we were all tired. It pained me to walk by the streets lined with shops, restaurants, and red lighted Christmas trees unable to actually stop and explore. These are the drawbacks of travelling with a herd.


The train ride back and evening were uneventful. The girls watched a movie and we learned that the DVD player, though it plays all regions, it defaults to the French language, so OUR DVD started playing in French until I played with the language settings. It was quite humorous.

Versailles is worth going to and I think if I were to go back, I'd go in the summer with a picnic and plan to stay all day and go on a boat ride in the lake (possible when it's not frozen). It would be nice to see the gardens green and full of life. And, I'd love to wander through the palace again and look at the little things like the crown molding and fancy ceiling corners, the embellishments in the walls, columns, and doors, the paintings and carvings. Those are the things that make it beautiful. And though overdone, the Fleur de lis is a bit prettier now that I've been to Versailles.

Although we've been in the Notre Dame before, I was still glad to be back and to have the opportunity to take more photos. It is a huge church and full of many beautiful details. We probably spent almost an hour wandering around inside.

From there we wandered over to the flower market near La Cite and looked through the shops with the flocked trees in every color of the rainbow, Christmas ornaments, and beautiful linens from Provencial fabrics. The lavender was amazing. I could have stood there inhaling that sweet scent all day. This is where I saw the row of bicycles - a new program in Paris to try to get locals to bike instead of driving - for residents only. And, where Luci found a couple sprigs of natural pine over where they had blue and hot pink trees and stuffed those sprigs in her pocket where they sat for over a week.

I love going to Paris in the Christmas season when the city is lit up and magical and the tourists are at a minimum, but, the downside is that not only is it cold, but the days are horrible short, so after a leisurely breakfast, the Metro travel, and some walking around, you add in a meal and your day is almost over. We still had a little daylight left, so we went to see the Sainte Chappelle - a church that had been closed when we were there the year before. The church is small and so surrounded by government buildings that you can almost not even detect it from the street. We had to walk through the airport style security devices and put our coats and purses through - not because of the Sainte Chappelle, but because in order to access the church, you must go through a government building. There is not a lot of the church to see, but oh, what there is is absolutely breathtaking. Up a narrow winding stone staircase with barely enough room for me with my purse, you are pushed into a room that is absolutely surrounded on all sides by beautiful stained glass windows. It's amazing and indescribable - one of those special places that fill you with amazement and awe and a true sense of weight - that what you are seeing is more that just visual. Built by Louis IX in the 13th century to house the crown of thorns, it's amazing to me that it's just hidden there among the Palais de la Cite - almost unnoticeable with people flocking to the Notre Dame - a church that is beautiful, but not breathtaking.

The conciergerie was closed when we left, so we missed that and walked back towards the Notre Dame where the kids played at the playground behind the church and Mom and Kirk went shopping. Cold and dark, we stopped for something hot to drink at the corner where they were totally out of dessert (oh, the tragedy of it all!). Still, the girls had delicious cocoa and I had a spiced wine - all warming out hands and bellies.

Warmed and not quite ready to completely quit, we walked back around and crossed the river at Hotel De Ville too see what the giant igloo looking thing was. It was on this bridge that we had a special moment - a saxophonist was playing sweetly in the moonlight. It was beautiful. We walked by normally enjoying the music, and then he started playing the itsy bitsy spider. We all stopped and watched him. The little girls all loved it. A little thing- but it made it special.

The giant igloo that we'd seen before from a distance stood beside a large outdoor ice skating rink sitting just in front of the beautiful Hotel De Ville (which isn't really a hotel). We found our way to the front (sort of) where we could see a little bit of a holiday ice capades that was going on with elves and Santa. Unexpected and fun, the girls loved it. We would have liked to see more, but a large group of young people came up behind us dancing, talking loudly, and smoking, so it was a good time to go before they got obnoxious.

From there, instead of taking the nearest Metro stop, we got distracted by a beautiful large department store complete with holiday decorations and Macy's style window displays. Not wanting to miss anything, we ventured in to the 6 (I think it was 6) story store with everything form high end clothing to craft supplies to toys... I had to see the Christmas section first to see what types of lights and decorations that they had. The lights were fun and interesting, but it was nothing that I "couldn't live without." The toy section was big and beautiful, but oooh, la la! The prices - not so beautiful. So many American toys at double or more the price... and beautiful French toys, but also expensive. Action figures and castle pieces of all kinds, stimulation overload. Loving French children's clothes, I did peak at those... but, the prices are just as high in France that they are in the states.

At that point we did manage to make it back to our apartment on Rue de la Glaciere... walking past a Haagen Das ice cream shop on the way that advertised for their version of fondue: a big bowl of mini scoops of ice cream served with fondue forks and a large bowl of rich, melted chocolate for dipping. Soooo tempting.

You know... it really was a nice day. We had beautiful weather, saw a few things, relaxed, walked, took in the atmosphere, enjoyed a couple unexpected surprises... can't ask for more than that. Paris is just perfect - pomp without pretense. A city indescribable in it's depth of culture and beauty, yet a place where one could live a very normal, every day kind of life very easily. A city for everyone.

Photo: Tiara and Elise on the Metro - complete pros, confident and fearless, even when the crowds got thick.