Paris In Three Parts (Parks, Recreation, and The World's Most Beautiful Cemetery)

In my last of the Paris posts, I again revel at the fortitude of my children. This time in matters of weather, as they ran, jumped, hopped, see sawed, and slid through seemingly ever park on Paris...in the frigid cold and misty rain...with nary a complaint. Never mind the fact that if the temperature dips below 70 in Dallas, Audrey has you believing we're in the eye of the polar vortex. (She's a drama queen, that one.) Bring the kid to Paris, apparently, and the world can do no wrong.

Or maybe a child's attraction to easily accessible, interesting, creative play spaces will squash even the smallest kernel of complain. Hear that America? Bring on the parks. Stat.

Also blowing my mind, the four hours spent at Père Lachaise Cemetery on Christmas Day. It was the ultimate history lesson... We parked the kiddos in front of the resting places of Oscar Wilde, Jim Morrison, Edith Piaf, Amedeo Modigliani, et al. and then gave a little spiel about why each artist/writer/musician was so, well, kick ass. We even pulled up some tunes to further excite them about Mr. Morrison and Ms. Piaf. They were entranced. So much so that Millie has declared if her firstborn is a girl she shall be named Edith (her exact words). 

It was by far the oddest, most memorable, and, quite frankly, most magical Christmas we've ever had. Pure goodness.

Paris In Three Parts (Food, Flea Markets, and Taking It To The Streets)

The fact that every single meal we consumed in Paris -- every goat cheese salad with a side of frites, steak frites, roasted chicken with frites,and croque monsieur with frites -- (it was all about the frites, friends) was far superior to, well, pretty much everything we've eaten during the other 355 days of last year was not exactly revelatory. After all, Paris is known for its food (and its frites), yes? The fact, however, that every egg and strawberry and tomato and wedge of cheese and little glass jar of yogurt that we purchased in the market and consumed in the comfort of our apartment was revelatory was the surprise. I mean insanely delicious strawberries and tomatoes in December??! The whole culinary enterprise made me seriously worried for the state of our food supply in America. And don't even get me started on the bread and the pastries and the chocolate chaud. I would dub my whole food consumption in France situation a bad scene, but I just enjoyed it to much to malign it in any way.

And I'm happy to report that the girlies seemed to adopt a bit of a "when in Rome (or France)" attitude on the food front, with Millie declaring that she would order something different every day of our trip. And she did. Albeit "different" within the confines of a non-threatening main dish served with a side of, yep, you guessed it, frites. But, hey, it's a start.

The other thing that the girlies were downright sporting about during our 10 days in Paris was the immense quantities of walking that we forced on them each day. Oh did we walk -- from the Place de Concord down the Champs-Elysées to the Arc de Triumph, all through the Marais (mulptiple times), nearly every street on the Île Saint-Louis, from d'Orsay to the Centre Pompidou, out to les puces de Saint-Ouen (and through stall after stall of treasures), oh and the five (!) pilgrimages to the Eiffel Tower, all on foot... We walked like it was our job, the streets our stomping ground --  wind, cold, and rain be damned -- with complaints few and far between. I have seriously never been prouder of my children.

Thanks Paris.

Paris In Three Parts (Da Vinci, Rodin, Brancusi. Oh My!)

We're four days home from our grand Paris adventure, and I'm finally back in the saddle and jet-lag-free (well relatively speaking...this time was a doozy friends -- let's just say that melatonin is my friend). So whattya say we break this action down? 

First up, the art. Oh the art...I'm still mind-blown, gobsmacked, awe-struck with the bounty-o-lovely that we encountered over the past two weeks. Though seasoned museum-goers, we knew the girlies (especially Millie) might get a little, ahem, fatigued if we overdid it, so we decided to hone in on a few spots and milk them for all we could. (Quality not quantity, right?) We settled on d'Orsay, the Louvre, the Rodin Museum, and the Brancusi Atelier. And while all four were stellar on every level, I had a nearly religious experience walking through the Italian Renaissance wing of the Louvre, and I still can't shake the Brancusi Atelier. Most. Beautiful. Art. Experience. Ever. Full stop.

On a practical level, here are my takeaways for those of you lovely peeps that may be pondering a trip to Paris. 

1.) Get a Paris Museum Pass. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200. We sprung for a four-day pass that allowed unlimited museum visits for, yep, four consecutive days, bypassing all lines. It was worth it for the Louvre alone. We went on a Thursday, and the queue had an estimated 3-hour wait(!!). Those lucky peeps holding a museum pass (i.e. us), on the other hand, walked right in. No wait. Straight shot to all that Italian Renaissance goodness. Which leads me to... 

2.) Go to the Louvre. I know what you're thinking, "Umm, great tip Joslyn, doesn't everyone go to the freakin' Louvre when they visit Paris"? Well, not this gal. Bryan and I visited about a decade ago, and, daunted by the line (see #1), bailed. Truth be told without the aforementioned pass, I would have bailed this time too. I just can't see waiting in line for three hours for, well, anything. But having gone, I can honestly say it would have been worth the wait. It was just beyond. Really, no words.

Adding to the cultural goodness was the massive collection of art tomes in the apartment we rented. Based on my amateur detective work, I'm guessing said apartment owner is an art dealer. Let's just say I felt like the luckiest girl on earth. Heaven. 

Ok next up, sugar, slides, street walking, and the world's prettiest cemetery. (How's that for a teaser?) Stay tuned...