Paris, Part Deux

So I leave the South of France and I got all stressed out. I’m on the train right now and I just had to move my bags after the third pickpocket announcement in ten minutes. In the Louvre yesterday, not ten feet away from both the Mona Lisa and the Egyptian sphynx, were big red signs warning of pickpockets. Enough already! You are stressing me out. 

Speaking of the Mona Lisa…  my friends who’ve been to the Louvre have already experienced this, but what is up with the paparazzi? I seriously got ragy— I have TWO semesters of art history, so I am a seasoned expert— I go to look at artwork, not take its picture. I want to see the art, not your bigass Samsung galaxy X in my face. And don’t push my kids out of the way to get up front, just you you can snap a selfie and then race to the next stop on your photo scavenger hunt of world heritage masterpieces that you obviously don’t give a shit about. My friends know I am an art fan and a religious freak, so when I am standing awestruck in front of Titian’s Les Pelerins d’Emmaus, holding back tears so I can explain the story to my children, it really enrages me when you ask me to take a picture of you. That is not what I am here for.

I think the Louvre should either 1) ban cameras entirely— buy some effing postcards like we did when we were kids, or 2) open a gallery of fatheads of all the highlights, charge a little less than admission to the real artwork; then all the jerks with their cameras can just take pics of those. 

OK- one more photog rant: here’s a pic of a lady who took a picture of the Eiffel Tower from a pretty popular spot—everyone was politely lined up to take a pic— and here she is editing her photo, or posting it to instagram, or possible creating an entire FB album and tagging everyone in it. No worries, we can wait— take your time.

Just trying to be polite--now I'm on some Chinese New Year card

When we were at the Eiffel Tower— we went THREE TIMES (my kids could not get enough of it or all of the open space surrounding it) I asked a Chinese man to take a family pic. OK- he had a very large camera around his neck, so I was not racial profiling at all (just needed to say that in case you think the following is racist). He took a few pics- great, I never have all three boys looking at the same direction in any one shot— then he asked if I could take his picture. 









Of course we must reciprocate, so I went to grab his camera as he was taking it off, NO, he was taking it off so he could get in the picture with us. He asked his friend to take his pic with us, then the other friend in the pic, then all the boys, then the girls in the middle and the boys behind, then serious pic, then crazy pic— THIS WENT ON FOR 20 MINS!! 

Madness on the Champs de Tour- really?
When will this end?

When we were in Cinque Terre, Cooper was being particularly cute at the train station, and these Asian ladies started taking his picture, then they asked if they could have a pic with him. They must have taken 50 pictures. I tried to surreptitiously get a pic of them taking pics, but I could never get it. When we were in the Mercedes gallery on Champs d’Elysses, a man asked if I would take is pic by a car, then he asked if Cooper could get in the pic with him. He put his man purse by my feet for the pic, so I wasn’t worried he was harmful, but creepy. I am too polite. Is Cooper’s face going to appear in one of those weird hentai books adult men read in Japan? 

Just about everywhere we went in Paris was crowded and busy. At the Army Museum, there was a special exhibit on the Musketeers —for an extra ticket (of course), but it wasn’t well signed (natch), so I had to run down and purchase one- at the ticket counter back at the beginning of the museum. In exchange for this inconvenience, I decided to let my kids hang around the entrance to the exhibit and entertain the guards. By the time I got back, they were more than happy for us to go in and may have even let us in for free had I faked it. 

Anyway- they had Musketeer costumes for kids to put on for pictures, only they are tethered to the wall so you can’t steal them. As Samuel said, how would we sneak them out anyway? Cooper was paralyzed as soon as I got him in the thing. He was like my family cat when we tried to put her on a leash. He got so upset “mom- I can’t move; I’m chained to the wall!” and you can tell in my pics. Hysteria ensued when Bennett got into the act, and chose the smaller costume. Then tried to stand next to his brother while they were both were chained to the wall. Of course I started laughing and then Cooper got pissed that I was laughing at him. 

I didn’t think we’d ever make it through the museum; my boys loved every minute of it, especially the armor. I had a total Indiana Jones moment when we peered into rooms of helmets, gloves and suits categorized on wooden shelves in front of wooden crates. Could’t help but wonder how they had so many just sitting around— and what was in the crates? The boys read every sign for every medieval weapon and armor piece and then started burning out around around the Seven Years War (French Indian War) and we had to breeze past the Napoleonic and WWI to get to WWII. I tried to get the boys to pace themselves, but they wouldn’t stop. By the time I dragged them out of there, they were tired pups. They rallied that evening to get to the top of the Arc de Triomphe and I rewarded them with $14 ice creams on the Champs d’Elysees (don’t tell Taylor, he thinks the bill is for dinner!).

You already know how the next day at the Louvre went, but I will say our early start paid off. After waiting with 400 people to get into the Musee d’Orsay on our first day in Paris, this was our line for the Louvre on our last day in Paris:

We totally got lost in the Louvre— isn’t that what you’re supposed to do? OK- you try and get from French Romanticism to Ancient Egypt— it is NOT that easy! 

One pic I did take inside the museum— here are my ancient history geeks in the Estruscan and early Greek rooms. It’s morning, and these aren’t on the must-see list, so we had the rooms to ourselves and no one shoved a camera in my face. After everything we saw in Antibes, Arles and Avingon, I couldn’t believe the boys were still interested in this stuff; and I got a big kick out of them putting it all together. Yeah history!

I was warned about trying to see everything in Paris, and although I paced ourselves to one or two sites a day, including a park on most days, we still overdid it. We took long afternoon breaks when we had evening events, still my kids were tired everyday. But, they enjoyed the city. 

I was glad that our Eiffel Tour summit was on our last evening after all because the kids were able to pick out buildings they remembered. We were on the tower when the light show happened, especially since our 9:30 tickets got us in at 9:45 and (need I say) there were huge lines at every stage with the elevators. I convinced the kids it was actually cooler to be up on the tower instead of watching it from below (it wasn’t really, but they bought it). It was after 11 when we descended, so I got a taxi for my tired boys. As we rode through the streets that night, we saw all of the sights one last time and we were charmed once again by Paris.  

We were so overwhelmed by the crowds in Paris, and considering how miserable I was for two weeks in Sancerre with barely a person in sight, I can’t believe I am relieved to be on a train racing through the French countryside to Bayeux. We saw the stucco and red tile roofs and the palm trees and olive groves of the South of France, and the rocky vineyards and goat farms of Sancerre, and now we are entering the landscape of half-timbered houses with sheep farms, and the rolling green hills and forests of Normandy. 

As a friend told me “London is not England,” and of course Paris is not France. I’m so glad my kids are seeing enough of the real France to balance out the whirlwind of the big city.

Brrrrr-- freezing and not so crowded-- Normandy!
It is also beautiful.