We've been heading up and down the River Seine every day this week. Day one, since we just got here, we managed only 3 miles. Day 2 was 7 miles. Day 3 was 7 miles and 3 hours at the Louvre. Day 4 was 10.5 miles and standing around in line to see the Eiffel Tour at night. I had mittens on, but I was still so cold when the sun went down that my thumbs went numb. Day 5 was 5.25 miles back and forth to Napoleon's Tomb.
We managed to get back to the hotel to collapse and then head down the street to a pretty decent Sushi dinner a block from the hotel. We've kind of covered all the places that we wanted to go together. Today, we went somewhere I'm not wild about. MacTroll is a giant history buff. I adore history, but I don't really get excited about military history museums. He does. So today, we went off to Musée de l'Armée to see a history of military weapons, armor, canons, uniforms, etc., and Napoleon's Tomb.
Here's the thing about Paris, in my point of view, the whole city is surrounded by death. Everything is a historical marker from hundreds of years ago, lists of names of those that have died working for the greatness of France. I get it. Tradition. Recognition. But you mix this death and war obsession with the overall glumness of the people, and it gets downright depressing. If I were 18, I would love it. I could be all moody and wear black all the time. Seriously, it's no wonder these people had so many revolutions. You can tell in the other blog entry that I wore bright pink leggings to counteract the overall "urban black" that is everywhere. But after 5 days, I'm dying for something a bit more light hearted. So, tomorrow, I'm taking MacTroll on a train ride. Cause, why not get out of the city proper? Plus, I endured three hours of war museum today without complaint. I even engaged and asked questions about the history so, MacTroll could school me with his new found knowledge. Tomorrow is a bit of Loosey-style fun.
Tonight, I got a sample of lightheartedness when we took a cab to dinner (our first cab ride here) and he ran us through the Arc de Triomph circle. I giggled and held onto the handle looking out as little cars and motorcycles slipped through and around us within a foot of our taxi. MacTroll looked concerned. I thought it was awesome. I think, if I was here longer, I'd just hire someone to drive me in and out the stupid circle a half dozen times to take the edge off.
Our fancy dinner out, where I wore my long, silk, Calvin Klein dress (Thank you, Karen's Kloset) and 5" heels was less than 2km away, but in those shoes I wasn't up for walking it. We ate at a trendy restaurant called Pershing Hall. The reviews on google were either that people loved it or hated it. The atmosphere was a bit of an ultra lounge, but the other diners were well over the age of 45. And you'd have to be to afford it. We ate sparingly. We shared an appetizer and then we each got our main dish. And my scallop risotto was good, but it wasn't 42 Euros good. Ya know? Nor does a beer of any kind really improve to the 13 Euro level just because the restaurant has a very romantic and relaxing atmosphere, so while MacTroll had Heineken, I had water.
But damn, I looked pretty. :-)
We also ran into three groups of English speakers this week. The approached my husband when I ran back up to the room for sunglasses. "The Irene and Ed Show" (that's how they introduced themselves). They were from Toronto and were spending a lot of time on little bus trips out of Paris. The we ran into a family from New Jersey in line at the Eiffel Tower. They didn't bother to introduce themselves. :-) Then there were a slew of high school girls hoping to get to make out at the top of the tower. Sigh.
The best food of the day goes to the raspberry doughnut (or beignet de framboises) I had today. Seriously, you think how different can it really be? But the cake part of the doughnut was so soft and squishy that I literally started to suck on it to make it last longer. And the raspberry wasn't just Smuckers squirted into the center. It was a handmade filling, not a jelly or a jam. I loved it.