Our decision to return the bikes early proved to be a good one.  Heading out to the patisserie for breakfast the next morning, we found ourselves getting rained on again.  (We still apparently haven’t learned our lesson about always bringing our raincoats.)  The rain continued unabated throughout our walk to the rental car company, but fortunately we were able to secure the car without incident.  Best of all, it had a built-in GPS!   Ah, the joy of always knowing where you are.

We decided to attempt on four wheels what we hadn’t managed on two wheels the day before, and set off once again up the Route de Vin.  Our first destination was the village of Riquewihr, and it did not disappoint. Nestled into the green hillsides, straight out of a fairy tale — like something you’d see in Disney World, but all authentic.

Pretzels make everyone happy

The whole Route de Vin is lined with wineries and vineyards, and Bob and I decided we had to at least experience a bit of it.  The girls had shown a propensity to linger long around this fountain containing many large goldfish and koi, so we set them up there with soft pretzels and slipped off to do a wine tasting nearby.  A good time was had by all.  And it didn’t rain at all!

The next village up the road, Hunawihr, promised a “stork and otter reintroduction center”.  (Storks are VERY big here.  They’re native to this region in the summers, but due to

Wine makes parents happy

various human activities had dwindled to single digits around thirty years ago.  The region of Alsace made a huge effort to save them and

Stork nest atop the church

achieved great results.  One of the things we noticed is that many buildings have a circular platform built out on to the roof to host nesting storks, and may of them are populated.  There is stork-themed merchandise everywhere.)

Dinner time for the ROUSs

Anyway, this place was way more fun than we had anticipated.  There were lots of different aquatic-related animals on display.  None of the bird habitats were enclosed, so there were storks, ducks, geese, and cormorants wandering around and flying through the air everywhere.  We saw giant hamsters (not actually sure if they fit with the aquatic theme) and these large aquatic rodents called ragondins that we couldn’t identify but

Nest-building stork

decided were most likely the famed Rodents Of Unusual Size.  There was this cool “parcour” walk that never would have flown in the US because of the likelihood of some tourist falling off into the water.  (All of us managed not to fall off into the water.)  When we climbed the observation tower above the trees, we saw that the treetops were full of stork pairs, preening and working on their nests.

On the parcour course

Very creepy sea lion

Best of all was a really cool show that featured various animals that fish.  We couldn’t understand a word of the presentation in French, but it didn’t really matter.  The presenter brought out, in succession, storks, cormorants, otters, a sea lion, and penguins.  They jumped into a tank of water with clear sides.  Instead of doing human-taught tricks, the staff would throw live fish into the pool and we could watch — above and below the water — while the animals caught them.  It was fascinating, particuarly when watching the

UFC championship: cormorant vs. eel

cormorant do battle with an eel.  (The cormorant won, but it took some time.  After appearing to swallow the eel, the cormorant opened its mouth again to eat a fish, and the eel re-emerged and had to be caught again.)  I’m sure from the fishes’ perspective, it was much like being thrown into a Roman gladiator ring.

We made an attempt to make one more stop in Ribeauville, where we were considering doing a hike to some castle ruins — but there was a

After seeing what happened to the eel, you’d think Lanie would keep her distance.

festival going on and we couldn’t find parking.  (One downside of the GPS was that before we realized what was happening, it had led us down into the very narrow warren of cobblestone streets that seem to only be made for pedestrians.   Luckily it was also able to get us out again.)

All that remained to cap off a great day was another trip to the park for Zoe to run, and a sunset dinner in Colmar, followed by delicious gelato.  Tomorrow, onward to the Alps!

Colmar sunset

In Paris, we paid little regard to the weather, except to notice that it was hot and dusty.  It remained this way for the entire duration of our stay there.

We did not bother to check the forecast.   Even it if did decide to rain, there were dozens of indoor places — museums and such — to ride out the storm, or there was the Metro to get us home in a relatively dry fashion.

Here in Colmar, the lovely capital of the Alsace region, we quickly noticed it was not as dusty, but the skies were still sunny.  We proceded in our charmed vacation existence not giving much thought to the weather report.

On the path to Turkheim

Tiny oversight.

Today dawned bright again.  We hustled out to rent bikes and zip out of the city on dedicated lanes, looking for a trail that would take us through the famous Alsacean wine country.  Stocked with multiple maps and general directions from the bike shop staff, we cruised along…until Turkheim,  which is a lovely town, but it lacks seriously for  coherent bike route signage.

We circulated through several key intersections multiple times trying to figure out what the painted arrows on the ground and the nice signs with grapes and bikes were trying to tell us.  Whatever it was, it did not synch with our Haute-Alsace a Velo map, which suggested we should find a cushy, two-laned bike path.

Again, I feel the need to comment that we were in lovely surroundings.  Turkheim, like many of the towns and villages here, has buildings and architecture that seems to go back to the middle ages.  Here, like in many towns we’ve seen, there is a large church central to the downtown, with a roof of grey tile latticed with bright green in a style that we’ve only seen in this region.   The hills around the town are quite literally covered with green rows of grape vines, practically every meter used for agriculture.   There was not a ton of car traffic, but a lot of people aobut.  It was a pleasant place to hunt around for a bike path.

Eventually, after ever-widening loops of the city trying to pick up the lost trail, we found a sign with grapes on it possibly pointing up a lane.  We followed, bolstered by input from other cyclists that they were “99 percent” sure this was the route.

It wasn’t a dedicated bike path, and it was rather steep, but we climbed and hoped.  We also were agog at the scenery when we managed to take it in.  For 270 degrees of our view, rows of vines covered the hillsides in patchwork sections. For the remaining 90 degrees, Turkheim wrapped around its central church in the valley, and beyond that lay Colmar in the distance.

Zoe is happy about making it to the top of the hill.

It was still sunny.  And rather hot on the way up.

On the other side of the mountain was a lovely little village called Neidermorschwihr, which, while somewhat sleepy, will henceforth go down in history as the place where we discovered tarte flambe.  It sounds like a dessert set on fire, but it’s really kind of an Alsacean pizza with no tomato sauce and a really thin crust.  Most have cheese of some local variety, onions and bacon pieces.  Mine had mushrooms, too.

The tarte flambe in Neidermorschwihr is worth climbing a hill for.

As we had lost a little time in Turkheim and we weren’t really sure how to find the actual bike path (we decided over lunch that the grape sign we followed up the hill was for the automobile Wine Trail, which was nice, but a little to narrow and car-travelled for our liking).

Still, we would not be deterred.  There were villages out there to be explored and we got directions from our waitress to a nice-sounding one.

Blackberries are in season and plentiful on the roadside.

Down the hill we rode, via a different route from the one we ascended.  Through a town, around a few round abouts, along a road that wasn’t too narrow. We veered off onto what looked like an underpass and, viola, it was the bike path!  Clear signs, fellow cyclists and everything!

We happily started following it to the next town — we could see the steeple of the church not five kilometers away.

Then it started drizzling.  Over the mountains had seeped grey clouds that were rapidly overtaking the blue sky.  Dark grey clouds.  Kind of black in places.  There was some thunder, clearly on the other side of the mountain from us.  And maybe a flash of lightning.  We hoped to reach the village and ride out the storm in a cafe, but then the path let us down.  Suddenly there was a no-bike sign and the paved path turned to grass.  We were riding along the outskirts of a residential neighborhood, and apparently we were supposed to navigate this to the center of town,  but there were no signs to guide us.

The skies got darker.  The drops of rain persisted.

We had to fold.  We reversed our direction and followed the bike path back to where we discovered it.  There were signs for Colmar  We could follow the bike path all the way back to our base camp, and that’s what we did.

Still outrunning the storm, but not for long

But the rain would catch up to us.

We got pretty wet .  And some of us got pretty excited about riding through vinyards (this was where the bike path was hiding all this time, in the vinyards!) during a thunder storm.  The wind kicked up, the rain grew in intensity and we sloshed through about 10 kilometers of bike path, then city roads to get back.

On the plus side, we did it in pretty good time.  People who were not at all anxious to ride up a hill in the sunshine, were quite keen to ride quickly in the rain once they saw a few lighning flashes (it should be noted that we did not see lightning touch the ground — all the flashes were way up in the sky and if they did strike the ground it was on the other side of the mountain from us).

This adventure cured us of our weather complacency.  As soon as we were in dry clothes, we checked the weather report.  It confirmed that there were “a few showers around” today and that there would be same situation tomorrow.

Sadly, this meant some changes in plans.  Although we had rented the bikes for two days, with the hopes of perhaps riding tomorrow to the German border, we decided to return them this evening.  During a gap in the percipitation, we rode them back to the store.

Dry and happy in the wine and pretzel pavlion

Then as the rain started again, we walked to the city center and found the wine and pretzel pavilion.  There was one table left that was mostly out of the rain.  It was good wine and good pretzels.

The rain eventually stopped and we walked home.  The silver lining came not long after we settled back in.  Jen discovered that the car we’d reserved to rent starting tomorrow would actually be available at noon and not at 5 like we’d originally requested.  We’ll have time to poke around a little after we pick it up.

We may get to the German border after all, or perhaps to one of those little towns in the hills.

Rain or shine.

Leg 1 – the Metro

This morning we bid adieu to Paris and moved on to Colmar, in the Alsace region on the border with Germany.

I have to say, we were feeling pretty good about ourselves midway through the day.  We’d arisen at 7am and gotten out the door by 8, without (as far as we know) forgetting anything.  We successfully walked to the Place Monge Metro stop, figured out how to buy five tickets, and sauntered on to the #7 train just as it pulled into the station.

Half an hour on the train and we’d arrived at the Gare de l’Est to catch the train to Colmar.  We were especially pleased that (a) we could take a train in just over two hours, while it would have taken five and a half to drive, and (b) we’d found some kind of budget train line (OUIGO) that got us all there in less than 100 euros.

The canals of Petit Venise

Our luck continued to hold.  The train became available for boarding just as we arrived on the platform.  The OUIGO app I’d installed on my phone was able to pull up our tickets, and they scanned successfully, even without wifi.  We had four seats facing each other with a table in the middle (plus one extra seat across the aisle), perfect for holding the cheese and baguette feast we’d brought along for breakfast, and afterward for playing hearts.  We watched the French countryside whiz by outside the window as we sped comfortably east.

Rosti lunch

The train arrived on time, and there was wifi in the station that allowed me to send a message to our airbnb host saying we’d arrived.  He responded that he was at the apartment ready to receive us.  All that remained was the 1.5-kilometer walk from the station to the apartment.

That’s when it all went horribly wrong.

The first problem is that one of the wheels on our very large roller suitcase (which we’d brought instead of our usual backpacks because of the per-bag fee on WOW Air) has broken off, meaning Bob has to carry our very heavy bag.  (We know it weighs 20.2 kg, because we just squeaked by on the WOW limit of 20 kg.)  Still, we were fairly cheerful setting off, our google directions in hand.

Then we couldn’t find our first turn.  (Later we discovered it was a street that was blocked off by construction and incorrectly labeled.)  This started a nightmare of wandering back and forth, up and down, asking directions and then getting lost again.  We didn’t have a detailed map or a functional phone and it was extremely hot.  On the verge of despair, we finally found our way to a street on our directions only to be blocked by construction again.  In the end, the ten-minute walk took us well over an hour and we almost got blocked inside a construction site.

Finally, joy of joys, we’d located the address.  It was an old-fashioned house, with a set of modern apartments behind it.  We didn’t know where to go.  After knocking on all the doors and ringing the buzzer for all the apartments, in desperation I left the family sitting in the driveway and set off to find wifi.  Here our luck improved again, with a McDonalds right around the corner.  Upon getting my messages I found that our host had left to get lunch and would be back soon.  (Apparently he drove around in his van for a while looking for us, without success.)

The girls spent some time and money in this visually appealing but exorbitantly expensive candy store.

Finally the good luck gods returned.  The apartment is spacious and lovely (though everything is blindingly white, so I’m very afraid of messing it up).  After a little recovery time, we headed into the nearby town center and were agape at how beautiful it was.  We’re near the neighborhood called “Petit Venise” because of its canals.  Every street seemed more quaint than the last.

The architecture, food, and culture here is more German than French.  For a late lunch/early dinner we found ourselves at a restaurant that almost exclusively served many variations

on a local specialty called a “rosti”, which is a baked meal based on potatoes, bacon, and onions — Zoe’s dream come true.  Nadia tried spaetzle and was pleased with the result.  Bob and I shared a carafe of local Gewurztraminer.  The girls found tiramisu-flavored soft serve.  We found another pleasant park for Zoe to run laps around.  Life was good again.

We may not have gotten to everything in Paris, but we managed a lot in three and a half days.  For everyone who has not been keeping track at home, here is a list of experiences we had:

This was early in the match, possibly during the national anthem.

strolling cobblestone streets
getting lost
witnessing an impromptu national holiday
speaking French
eating baguette
eating French food in a cafe
Paris plage
sitting under a French tree
sitting next to a fountain
eating Italian food
spotting mosiac digital art at street corners
eating Japanese food
eating crepes on the street

Italian wine? Send it back!

drinking wine
drinking syrops
drinking French beer
getting ripped off (most notably by the $6 bottle water and coke guy but probably elsewhere as well)
boat ride on the Seine
sunset boat ride on the Seine
riding the Metro
strolling the Champs-Elyssees
climbing the Arc de Triomphe
climbing the Eiffel Tower
the Centre Pompidou
the Musee d’ Orsay
Palais de la Decouverte
Notre-Dame cathedral and climbing the tower
Crypte archéologique de l’île de la Cité
Sainte-Chapel
Conciergerie
Palais de Justice de Paris (it was kind of in between the Sainte-Chapel and the Conceirgerie)
the Louvre (from outside)
Square du Vert-Galant
Luxembourg Gardens
Jardin des Plantes
Jardin de Tuiliere
Jardin Tino-Rossi (a sculpture garden along the Seine)

It can be said that we’re getting the hang of Paris.  Today was a smoothly executed series of adventures that fit somewhat seamlessly.

Nice way to start the day

One minor snag has been the Paris Museum Pass, which has generally validated its purchase several times over.  It gets us into a lot of things and even promises to get us to the front of the line.  It worked splendidly yesterday at the Arc de Triomphe, getting us in, up and out of that place very quickly.

Sometimes, it’s not clear which lines we get to skip.  Today we thought we could go right up to the top of the Nortre-Dame towers as soon as we were done touring the cathedral; but, no, we still had to get a reservation.

Crepes next to the cathedral

That adventure had to be put on hold for a few hours, but we were able to take in the mega-interesting Crypte archéologique de l’île de la Cité right away. The name of this museum is much longer than the line to get in, even though you may fall down the stairwell if you’re in line for the Notre-Dame and not paying attention.

Right there underneath the large square in front of the cathedral is a museum centered around the exposed foundations, wall, and even door arches of the very early enhabitants of the l’île.

Back on the Batobus

We could not linger too long, even though Zoe and I might have stayed for another hour or so looking at the artifacts they found during excavation.    Because we had a full 24 hours on our Batobus pass from yesterday, we could still squeeze another ride in if we got to the quay before 11:20.  We pulled ourselves from the crypts and, voila: bonus Batobus ride!

See how things are coming together?  Sometime in the morning we even managed to buy four huge ham and cheese crepes.  As a family we could only manage to finish three.  I snacked on the last one as the day went on.

Art hunters, complete with treasure maps

The Batobus ferried us to the Musee d’ Orsay, which is, of course, on the Paris Museum pass.  We didn’t get to skip much of a line here, but we didn’t have to shell out any more money, either.  Then again, I would not have begrudged paying a little for this place.

I believe there are one or two more art museums in Paris, maybe, but I’m not sure there needs to be.   My head and heart were full of wonder and appreciation after our three-hour tour of the d’ Orsay.

Hands off the Rodin, ma’am

We’re trying to get Zoe to post a vitural tour for the blog.  She took pictures of dozens of pieces she liked.  (Can you believe it? They let you take pictures of whatever you want there!)    They even provided us with a menu of diverse and important exhibited pieces in the mesuem guide. That served as a scavenger hunt for the girls.  We told them that if they could find all of the featured items, we would get them syrops on the way home.  (Scroll down to see if the succeeded.)

Ice creams on the midway

Let’s see.  Then we went back across the river to Jardin de Tuliers, which is lovely formal park which has been taken over partially by Coney Island.  There’s a ferris wheel and a flume and a whole bunch of other things Louis X — XVI all would have gone bonkers over, right there in the park.

The shadier side of Tuliers

We got ice cream in the Coney Island part and ate it in the formal park part, under a manicured chestnut tree.

Another art museum

We proceded then to another art museum, this one with a big glass pyramid in front of it, but we didn’t have the energy for any more culture.  Instead, we walked more blocks, crossed onto the l’île.

Here, Jen knew of a “hidden garden” right at the end of the island, and from there we spotted and even more hidden space under a willow tree at the very point where the river splits.  This was perfect for some well-needed shade.  We spent an hour playing hearts under the tree until it was time for our 5:30 Notre-Dame tower appointment.

Playing hearts in the even more hidden garden

See how this is all coming together!

Up the tower — this time all of us made it to the top, despite an interminable period (ten minutes? two hours?) baking in the sun, suspended on a ledge over the entrance doors, while we waited for them to let us up the stairs for the final climb. (It seems there is only one narrow stairway up the last tower and they had to let a bunch of people down before they could let us up.  Man, it was hot waiting.  Jen said it was like we were in Purgatory.)

Then home.  Because the tower tour took so long, we were not able the make the Pantheon before its 6:30 ferme time.  This landmark was two minutes from our apartment and still we weren’t able to fit it in.  So not every puzzle piece fit into place, even today.

But there always seems to be something more to do in Paris, including, much to the girls’ delight, a final Parisian night dinner at the ramen restaurant that they passed longinngly multiple times during our travels.

Top of the Arc de Triomphe

When I reflect back on Paris, I think the thing that will first come to mind is…stairs.

Stairs to the Arc de Triomphe.  Stairs to the Eiffel Tower.  Stairs to the top of the towers in Notre Dame.  This in addition to all the regular stairs one comes across during a normal Paris outing — stairs to the second floor apartment, stairs to the Metro, stairs to the Seine.  Combined with the miles and miles of walking we’ve done each day, I surely have calves of steel by now.  I think the children are nearing mutiny and I’m starting to dream about spiral staircases.

This is a bonus set of stairs we got to climb at Notre Dame, to see the belfry.

I was actually prepared to skip the Eiffel Tower, when I saw the size of the line.  (Who knew so many people would be willing to take the stairs?  The line was only marginally shorter — and the tickets marginally cheaper — than the elevator.  I was assuming we’d waltz right in past a long line of elevator people.  I guess that’s Europeans for you.)  Nadia was downright eager to skip it (and ended up only making it to the first level).  Bob was clearly of the same mindset as Nadia, but apparently took it as a test of his manhood to force himself to the top of the tower.

SuperZoe!

At least the stairs didn’t seem all that tiring, because of the adreneline rush you get from climbing inside a flimsy-seeming metal cage, surrounded by views of dizzying drops.  This helped us make rapid time up to the second level.  In the end we were happy we’d gone up and happy we’d done it the hard way.  (See Lanie’s post for photos.)

Breakfast at the local patisserie

I shouldn’t complain that much, though, because Zoe has it much worse.  She has to run almost every day for her cross country team, lest she feel the wrath of her coach, Fergus.  Fergus apparently doesn’t accept any excuses about how you walked 15 miles or climbed 8000 stairs today.  So at the end of our long days, after the walking and climbing, when I can barely hobble across the street to the creperie, Zoe usually has to go out and run five or six miles.  We found a lovely park near our apartment (the Jardin de Luxembourg) where she can run around the perimeter and we can keep tabs on her as she goes by.  Bob has been valiantly running part of the way with her,

On the Batobus

but eventually he loses steam and she has to do a couple more laps on her own.  (Our days are so long that usually we barely fit the runs in before the park closes at 9:30pm.  Luckily it stays light until almost 10:00 here!)

As I mentioned in a prior post, we completely failed in our usual plan to combat jet lag, which involves staying up until 7 or 8 at night then sleeping twelve hours or so and waking up to a normal schedule.  Instead, on our first day we ended up being awake way too late, then slept until noon on Day 2.  Of course, this led to us being unable to sleep at a normal hour that night.  At 2:30am

At the Jardin de Plantes

all the children had wandered restlessly out of their various bedrooms, and Bob and I were still up as well, and this does not make for happy parents.  So I’ve been setting the alarm gradually earlier each day, starting at 9:30 on Day 3.

To give our legs a bit of a break, we bought tickets for the Batobus, a boat that lets you hop on and off at various sites along the Seine.  We

Palais de Decouverte

were able to hop on the boat at the lovely Jardin de Plantes and ride it over to the Champs Elysees, Paris’s famous luxury shopping street.  We took in the massive, glass-walled Grand Palais (constructed for the 1900 World’s Fair).  Tucked on one side of it was the Palais de Decouverte, a science museum.

We figured it would just be a small place, but it turned out to be quite impressive (as well as being housed in an amazing palace).  Our main problem in

Pasteur defeating disease-causing bacteria

science museums is that Zoe likes to read every word of every exhibit, while Nadia tends to glance around for 30 seconds and declare she’s ready to move on.  Since Zoe is working in a microbiology lab this summer, we let her spend a fair amount of time in the excellent temporary exhibit devoted to Pasteur.  Fortunately for Nadia, most of the other exhibits were only in French, so Zoe was somewhat thwarted (though she was willing to attempt to read the French, which made the process even longer).  As it was, Zoe would have happily spent the rest of the day but other activities, and lunch, were calling.

The power of leverage

Then we had to walk again, up the avenue to the Arc de Triomphe.  Throughout the walk we were looking for a creperie for a casual lunch, but such places are thin on the ground on the Champs Elysees.  By the time we’d climbed the Arc, admired the views of the 12 avenues radiating outward, and made our way back down, people were definitely getting seriously hungry.  We decided to go onward to the Eiffel Tower on foot and hoped to find a creperie on the way — but were foiled once again.  Eventually, after going out of our way and doing much fruitless walking, we settled for an Italian restaurant that was well-liked for its food but charged us a small fortune for drinks, which weren’t even alcoholic.  (The kids remember it very fondly, though, since the

Remains of tiramisu

waiter gave us a complimentary piece of tiramisu for dessert.  Nadia went so far as to enter the phone number on her phone, as though she plans to order takeout in the future.  I personally didn’t feel that the tiramisu was worth the almost $60 that we paid for four bottles of water (most restaurants give you tap water for free) and four Cokes.)

Anyway, we were fortified with pizza and pasta and gold-plated water and Coke and tiramisu for our trip up the Eiffel Tower.

Sunset on the Batobus at 9:45pm

Given the line and the climb, we barely made it down in time for the last Batobus of the day at 9:30.  (Zoe had to skip her run this time.)  That was another reason we climbed so fast — after our experience attempting to take the Metro home from the Eiffel Tower on World Cup day, we were highly motivated to make that boat.

Too exhausted and not hungry

View of us buying crepes from our apartment window

enough to contemplate dinner, we made do with sweet crepes (we finally got our crepes!) from the creperie across the street from our apartment.  Jet lag has not totally left us and we’re still staying up too late, but the system has to work eventually.  8:30 alarm for Day 4!

Today we went to the Eiffel Tower and when we got there, there were all these people selling little statues and key chains of the Eiffel Tower. There were concession stands and a carousel, and it was really crowded.

During his time, Mr. Eiffel was largely considered a masochist for making people stand in long lines to do something they were not at all sure they would survive.

We couldn’t buy tickets beforehand online because they were all sold out, so we had to find out which line was the ticket line. Mom figured out that one of the lines would be for people who wanted to take the elevator all the way up and the other line was for people who wanted to take the stairs. We opted to take the stairs.
It was a very, very long line, even though the stairs line was shorter than the elevator line. It curved way out underneath the tower. Dad waited in line for about an hour while the rest of us played SpotIt in the square under the Eiffel Tower, which was extrememly dusty. (*Editor’s note: Dad was really the hero of this whole event.) We got back into line when Dad was relatively close to the booth, but we waiited in line for another hour because the line curved around a lot right before the ticket booth.
Eventually we got our tickets — the kind where you walk to the second floor and then you take the elevator to the summit. To get up to the second floor was a little more than 700 steps up.

It was really cool climbing the stairs and it was really cool because we could see all the people below us getting smaller and smaller. About halfway up to the first floor, Nadia started getting a little freaked out becuase of the height. When we got to the first floor, she decided to stay there instead of coming with the rest of us.
Also, on the first floor for part of it there was a glass floor that Zoe stood on easily, but I got a little freaked out. It was scary because it was a long way to the ground and you could see right past your feet all the way down. Mom and Dad decided that they wouldn’t risk standing on the glass. Standing on the glass was one of the scarier parts of the whole experience.
We started climbing the stairs to the second floor. Even though there was a cage around us, and you couldn’t see down through the stairs, I started feeling like the stairs were going to break and that I was going to fall. I think I felt this way because I looked through the glass floor. I just kept walking up even though I felt a little scared.

When we got to the second floor, I was good again. It feels a lot more sturdy on the platforms than on the stairs. We looked around a little bit but not a lot because we had to get to the top and then get back down to catch our Batobus boat. It was about 8:15 at this point, and the last boat left from the tower at 9:30.
There was a pretty short line to get into elevator to the top. This part was a little bit boring because we had to wait, and we weren’t near the edge of the tower; it was exciting because we were going up to the summit.

Dad leading from behind

Actually, I may revise my opinion: The elevator may have been scarier than the glass floors. The elevator ride was a pretty long way, so you kept thinking, “Why aren’t we there yet?” Meanwhile you could see all the beams and everything, and you could see yourself getting really high. There were windows on all sides of the elevator so you could how high you were. There were maybe 10 people in the elevator; there wasn’t much room to move around. Once you started going up, there wasn’t much you could do. That was another scary thing.

And then we were at the summit. The elevator doors opened and actaully this part was not very scary for me. It was really high up, but there was another metal platform and glass windows and a ceiling. The view from the windows was absolutely beautiful. You could see a long way in all directions. There were a lot of people on this floor, but we could still move around.

Dad took this picture. He was really up there!

There was one more flight of stairs to the very top. There was no ceiling or glass here and the whole platform was enclosed by a tall metal cage. We didn’t spend a ton of time there because of the boat, but we walked all the way around and we took some pictures.
From up on top of the Eiffel Tower you could see all the streets and all the cars and lots of people who looked so small you could barely make them out. Because there was a metal cage and because I knew I wouldn’t fall, it didn’t mind looking down.

Blah blah blah view

After we look around for a little bit, maybe 10 minutes, we went back down. We took the elevator to the second floor, then walked down to the first floor to find Nadia. The first floor did not seem scary to me because there was a fence around it and it wasn’t that high up compared to the summit.

Dad is Mom’s hero.

We made it back in time to get to the boat and then we took the boat home. When we were in the boat, the sun was setting. It was almost dark and the sun stained the clouds different colors. By time we go back to our apartment it was dark.

Back in time for the boat. Dad was at the top of that!

I really enjoyed going to the top of the tower and writing this blog about it.

We are still figuring out Paris, as evidenced by our late-afternoon hunt for cheese and bread. “It’s Paris,” Lanie said. “There should be cheese shops all over the place.”

The noontime sun assaults our recently-sleeping eyes.

Not exactly. And the fromagerie we did find was closed. Cheese buying is an early-afternoon activity for Parisians, apparently. We finally found some in a small market, along with some fruit. The bread was found at what may have been an after-hours speak-easy boulangerie. The first few of those we found were closed, too.

Of course, these closures may be because today is national hangover day in France. There was a lot of partying last night involved with the World Cup victory. People who weren’t drinking all night were probably up early cleaning the mess. The streets were filled with bottles and cans (and Frenchmen) when we went to bed last night and when we hit the streets today they were clean.

A pasta cocktail

We gave them plenty of time to do the job, as our first order of the day was our noon time meal at the corner Italian restaurant. Here we learned that “cocktail” when applied to a pasta dish means a mix of different pastas; pizzas in France seem to be slice-your-own; and not all French cheeses are acceptable to all Pavlik children. We also learned that we could survive quite well with a waitperson who does not speak English.

Tastes like Paisano, when the bottle is still fresh

It was strange, because it was kind of like breakfast for us, but as it was lunch for everyone else, Jen and I availed ourselved to our first wine of the trip. It was Italian wine. Cheap Italian wine. It reminded us of home.

Fueled up, we headed down Rue Descartes to the Isle de la Cite and the Notre-Dame Cathedral. Here we found that everyone else who wanted to visit the cathedral had gotten up before us and was already standing in line. The Crypte Archeolgique is in the same square, and it had no line at all. But that’s becuase it’s closed Mondays.

One-third of the world’s stained glass reserves are in this chapel, it seems.

We rallied, really not missing many beats at all, and hit two museums before most of the people in line got into the cathedral. These museums were the Sainte Chapelle, with its vertical acres of marvelous stained glass, and the Conciergerie, which is the prison where they kept Marie Antionette and many other political prisoners.

Cool indoor waterfall and flume

But it was most noteworthy to us because they have a flume of Seine water flowing through the basement. It comes out as a waterfall over the front door. We were all impressed with that.

Syrop, streetside

So, we’re getting the hang of Paris. We stopped to get a round of syrops during our next walking leg. We found our way to the Centre Pompidou, which, by the way, is closed on TUESDAY, but open on Monday.

At the Pompidou, on the express escalator to modern art

We were really feeling good, especially with all that modern art all over the place. We bought a couple of crepes. We walked back across the Isle to see maybe if the line at Notre-Dame had gone down (it had, substantially, since the Cathedral had closed 45 minutes earlier).

We don’t even know what this building is. Does anyone have an idea?

We were strafed by the French Blue Angels flying very close overhead and dropping red, white and blue smoke above us and, probably, the parade celebrating Les Bleus in some other part of the city.

All that was left was to pick up some bread, cheese and tomatoes for our traditional “Roman Dinner” that we have when we’re in a cool foreign city and not eating in a restaurant. Easy, right?

Bread and cheese procured, avec apples and tomatoes.

Hopefully, I’m not coming off as complaining.  As a family we are a pretty good problem-solving unit, and we tend to enjoy trying to find the puzzle pieces and put them together.  The girls have been exremely good troopers so far in this respect.   Also it should be said that most problems are already solved by the time we get somewhere.  Jen has laid out a nice trip for us, including very cool accommodations very near a small square ringed with cafes. We had it together enough tonight after sending the kids to bed that we slipped out for a beer each and a bit of Parisian evening atmosphere.

Poring over the bier menu on the square

I’m sure we’ll have the rest of Paris all figured out tomorrow.

Icelandic airport

We’ve successfully made it to France, courtesy of WOW Airlines.  I think they got their name from what people say when they find out how much it costs to bring a bag.  Consequently, we are traveling pretty light.  With careful measuring we determined that the girls’ school backpacks, if not overstuffed, could qualify as a “personal item,” so that’s their luggage.  Bob and I shared one suitcase to check ($80 each way) and we managed to avoid the carry-on category entirely ($60 each way).

WOW Airlines entails a stopover in Iceland.  Leaving Boston at 7pm and flying to Iceland, there was barely a night, with the pink light of the sunset almost immediately followed by the orange glow of sunrise.  The Iceland airport was pretty cool, although our enthusiasm dimmed once we’d spent $20 on two smoothies.  We had to go outside to get on our plane to France, and it was COLD.  (Now we are in France, and it it HOT.)

The scene at a nearby cafe

Anyway, WOW Airlines delivered us uneventfully to Paris, where we eventually managed to locate the train and find our way to the apartment we rented on airbnb.  I should mention here that it was now about 2pm on Sunday — three hours before the start of the World Cup championship, with France playing Croatia.  The street where we were staying was lined with bars and cafes and was closed off to traffic.  The mood was already quite…celebratory.

Climbing wall along the Seine

Everyone was exhausted from a night on the plane with little sleep, but our usual strategy for beating jet lag is to force ourselves to stay up until at least 7 or 8pm.  So once we’d gotten settled on our lovely apartment, we marshalled the troops and set off on foot.  (As I write this, it is noon on Monday and everyone but me is still asleep, so I think the plan failed.)

Paris Plages

We had read that the city was erecting a huge screen at the Eiffel Tower to show the game.  We figured we’d walk in that direction (3 miles according to the map) and check out the scene for a while, doing a little exploring on the way.  We headed for the Seine and enjoyed the beautiful architecture, “Paris Plages” setup (a faux beachfront set up along the river), and various huge street parties getting ready for the game.

Well, I guess we took a circuitious route or misread the map, because it was quite a long walk.  By the time we

reached the area around the tower, there were huge streams of people moving away from it.  Eventually, after wandering around that area for a while, we discovered the police had barricaded it off and we were stuck on the wrong side.

The energy in the city was amazing though.  Periodically we’d hear a roar

Some much-needed cooling mist

go up all around us as we walked along, and we’d know that France had scored.  French flags and people painted red, white, and blue were everywhere.  (Bob found a little flag on the ground so we were able to wave it around and join the party.)  Near the Eiffel tower someone who lived on the ground floor had opened their window near the TV set, and a throng of fans was gathered in the street outside, peering through the window to watch.

Here’s where we’d made a major miscalculation.  We’d said all along that we’d take the metro back home.  But when we finally made it to the nearest

Uselessly consulting our map again

station, the area was behind the police blockade.  The next nearest station was closed for construction, along with a couple beyond that on the same line.  (Luckily we found a sign on the ground indicating this.)  Eventually we discovered that the entire metro seemed to have been shut down.  So that long, long walk in the hot sun had to be repeated.  No one was very happy about this.  Eventually the game ended and the streets were full of celebration, which at least added some festivity to our death march.

Back home we had to fight our way through crowds of revelers to reach the door of our apartment, but thankfully the soundproofing is excellent.  I’m not sure if anyone is going to be willing to walk anywhere tomorrow, though.

Ice cream bribe to keep walking