


We got into Paris at midnight and the Taxi ride to our hotel was amazing, like a commercial. It was lightly raining, we were in this exciting new city, holding hands in the car, and we are looking all around everywhere. Then we drive around the Arc de Triomphe and it was lit up in all it's glory so brilliantly. And our hotel was about 5 blocks away. So that was my romantic version of the taxi ride. And here is Ken's: We are driving in the rain, he thinks hey Paris probably has some really nice lingerie (just remember we had been apart for a week;-) Then he looks at me and says, "I was right, there's a place, and there's a place, and there's..." I look at him like what? And he says, "It says Brasserie." Um, yeah. I explain to him that means restaurant, and his hopes are dashed. It kind of became a joke though because in all of our walking around we didn't see a store that said Lingerie (which, duh it's a french word, honestly it took me until I saw the word Lingerie in the window title to get that) until the very last night. Ken would like me to point out that he was really into our romantic taxi ride, it's just that he saw the signs and thought, "Hey, this confirm what I thought about the French."
Wednesday, Ken had another work meeting all day long. We went to the hotel's restaurant for Breakfast and were completely sticker shocked by the breakfast that was 27 euros a person ($42). Ken thought it was worth it, which of course what else would he say, since his work reimburses his food. But I didn't think it was that great. It was good, and I especially fell in love with their fresh squeezed juice. While Ken was working me and Ginger walked around Paris. Our hotel was 3 blocks from the Eiffel Tower, but I didn't walk in that direction because I wanted to save that for when Ken was with me.
I really spent most of the day worrying about Ginger, she came down with Pink Eye. We hoped it would go away but her eyes were swelling and crusting over. I think I figured out the time difference between when my Dr's office would open and when the Pharmacy would close in Paris 3000 times throughout the day. Finally it came time, I had this whole plan about how in my broken French I would coordinate getting a prescription filled in Paris. I went to the Pharmacy, I had the hotel Concierge write out a note for me, and then explained what was the matter with Ginger. Of course my explanation was completely awful and involved alot of half spoken words and pointing. I started to talk about getting his number so my Dr. could give him a prescription and the man walked away from me and came back with a bottle of eye drops and said 6 euros, I was so shocked I paid for it, said Merci Becoup 100 times and left. Seriously I can't believe that I got eye drops without a prescription for less then what my co-pay is with my insurance in the states! It still floors me.
Anyway in me and Ginger's wandering around we ended up on the Champs d'Elysee. I have a radar that just makes me naturally gravitate towards expensive places. It will happen when we are driving around looking for houses, or stores or whatever all the time. So of course I just stumbled upon one of the most expensive shopping places in the world. Although I'm not really a shopper, it was nice to window-browse.
I could probably write up a post about how the Europeans love babies. Pretty much anywhere we went (except a few restaurants), they adored Ginger and me by default. Seriously it was red-carpet treatment for her. We skipped through security checkpoints, got pushed to the front of the line. People who may have seemed annoyed at our non-existent french would melt and bend over backwards to help me because of the baby. It was a super nice treat to be revered because you have a child. I have to wonder if that would have happened if they saw me with the whole brood because we rarely saw any families.
Anyway, walking around, anytime I sat I would be immediately flocked by people who would just ooh and ahh over everything Ginger did. And I mean EVERYTHING. Her shoe slipping off made them jump (which then made me jump), or her drool was so adorable, they couldn't get over her eyes, they thought her hands were the cutest thing ever, etc. It was really great and I talked to probably 15 people in depth (that means at least 10 minutes or more), and that was on top of the people who just did a drive-by like what's so important over there, smile at the baby and then leave. One woman talked to me for 30 minutes, she didn't speak very much English and I don't speak French so at times it was awkward. But she was about 65-ish and really wanted to talk, she never had children because her husband didn't want any. Isn't that sad. I couldn't help but be really sad for her that she had never been a mother when she clearly had a mothering heart. She even walked with me a couple of blocks, otherwise I think if I sat on the bench all afternoon she would have stuck by my side.
3 comments:
Healthcare in other countries is SO different than here in the US. I'm glad everyone was so helpful and that you had lots of fun. Paris is so beautiful but I am glad you're back:)
That's Europeans for you! They don't have many children at all, so when they see one it's almost foreign to them. It sounds crazy but the Germans even pay their people to have children . . .it's called Kinder geld (child money). I am glad you had such a good time and got to talk to so many people. . .that's a memory all by itself! Thanks for sharing!!!
how awesome is it that you were able to go and of course people stopped and stared at you and the baby cause well why wouldn't they you are totally hot and ginger is just as cute as can be. glad you had fun. I miss you tons
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