pickpocked in Paris, and other adventures

Why, yes, actually, we have been pickpocketed. Specifically, Miles was pickpocketed at the Eifell Tower on our first afternoon in the city. Get this: They snatched his iPod while he was wearing his headphones. It most definitely put a damper on things, and has sort of tainted our perception of Paris. I mean, it's been great and all, but pickpockets. At the icon of the city. We were in London when the Olympics started and the metaphorical anthill spilled open, and managed just fine. Once afternoon in Paris, and...

Anyway!

Let's look at pictures and places, yeah yeah?

 Notre Dame Cathedral

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 Pretty Parisean building

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Eifell Tower 

(pre and post pickpocketing - can you tell by Miles' face?)

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Arc de Triomphe  

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Balancing

 on a chain near the Champ Élyseés

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Outside the Louvre 

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OH MY GOSH IT'S THE MONA LISA

It was not actually all that exciting at all. But it certainly drew a crowd. 

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We've been here about 30 hours, and we've hit all those sites. As is ever the case, our poor feet have been taking quite the beating. Pedometers are almost as unreliable as my brain, so I won't give you a specific distance, but suffice it to say that we've walking more than you have .Unless you're training for a marathon or something equally unlikely and confounding. 

In order to make sure that it is clear that we are enjoying ourselves and not moping about how sucky it was to get robbed at the Eifell Tower and moaning about how much we miss London (LONDON!), here are some of the highlights of our stay:

1. BEING A EU CITIZEN! Yay for red passports! Why? Because they made the Louvre free. Saved €30, right there. It is awesome.

2. The pain au chocolat I bought at one of the only grocery stores we've seen. It was very delicious.

3. The chocolate icecream Jonathan bought at that same grocery store and that we all ate on a bench across the street. It was store brand, but it tasted like Håagen Dazs. Yum. 

4. Paris streets. They are pretty pretty.

5. The receptionist at the first place we stayed at responding to my very broken, very hesitent, most assuredly horribly American-accented query of "Parlez vou engles?" with a "Yes! But your French is very good!" AHAHAHAHA. You are too nice, good sir, but I speak only that one phrase. 

Aaaaaaand tomorrow, we're off to Rome! It's one night on a train away. Yay!

London on the Cheap

(Ok, no. It's not almost free. But is more free than it would be if you stayed in hotels and ate every mealtime and didn't occasionally walk until your feet bled, ok? It is free-ish. )

At this point in my life, I consider myself a fairly proficient traveler. I know that some of you are laughing at me for this belief, but my passport has enough stamps to make me all warm and proud when I flip through it, and that's good enough for me. 

I also consider myself a pretty dang good cheap-o. 

By the time you read this, I will be getting ready to depart the city I have now spent over six collective weeks in over the course of my short but still grey-hair producing life (I FOUND ANOTHER ONE THIS WEEK). And so I know a trick or two about surviving the abhorrent dollar to pound conversion rate. 

Please note that these are strategies that work for me, and that I was raised in such a way that I was seven or something equally ridiculous before I realized that the clearance items were not, in fact, the only items that one could actually purchase from a store. Also, if you're reading this and at any point think, fool, that's not the cheap way, this (_______) is, well. You jerk. Thanks for sharing beforehand.

On with the show!

OLYMPICS IN LONDON

.... Well, we watched the opening ceremony on the TV at the place we're staying.

Does that count?

We tried to watch the events on the bigscreen at a park. It looked like this:

And cost £65. Which was not what the Internet said was going down, but whatever.

ALSO: Today is Miles' birthday. YAY! Congrats! He's a big boy now, and I am even more decrepit.

We ate good food. Look!

Then we ate cake.

I couldn't wait long enough to devour the chocolatey goodness to take a picture, so you get to see my licked-clean plate instead.

We are leaving tomorrow. Eden is hopping back across the pond, bound for the land of sun and cacti. Miles, Clare, Jonathan and I are going to Paris. Qui qui.

This is exciting, yes.

But.

But.

London, my love, I shall miss you dearly.

Brighton!

BRIGHTON

SUN AND SEA AND BOOKS AND GELATO AND SUNBURNS

Today was (as my days are so often) fairly fabulous. 

Thanks to my incredible friend Jessica, I was able to hope a train to Brighton, the beach city about an hour out of London.

Friends. It was fantastic. 

Here's the story the above photo-montage tells:

- Nero's coffe: I do love you. Woke me up on the train ride over.

- Went from train station to a stupidly scrumptious and reasonably priced lunch: Brie, bacon, lettuce, tomato, and cranberry sandwich. Um. YUM. I'm drooling.

- Meandered down the pretty, busy streets to the beach. Looked at the pier. 

- Made faces at the sun. That squinty expression is actually what my face does when I am reacquainted with one of my BFFs - which the sun is. 

- Picked out my spot on the beach. At first, the lack of sand and abundance of rocks made me question the quality of said beach. But, then, two hours later and totally free of sand-filled clothing and crevices, I reversed my opinion. Pebbly beaches: I approve of you. 

- Read my book and stuck my feet in the water and basked in the fact that, oh hey, this is my life and it is actually breathtakingly wonderful.

- Ate gelato. Ate a lot of gelato. It was this banana chocolate crunch delicious nonsense that was like Chunky Money but better. Yet, that's a thing. I know, I know, hard to believe, but I am a master of all things carbohydrate-y, and I know my business.

- Why, yes, that's a sunburn. You may be asking yourself, "Why, how is it even possible to get a sunburn in England? Isn't that a contradiction of terms?" Well, it ought to be. But my name's Marie and my skin never got the memo that it was raised in the land of 350 days of sunshine. Alas.

Moral of the story: I am –––––––– this –––––––––––– happy.

Also: Burned.

London Week Two: A Review

This was a very exciting week here in the UK! As you should now know, Marie hung out in Bristol for awhile and did fun things, but the excitement didn't wait for her. 

This is a picture-heavy post chronicling the week through the eyes of Miles, Clare and Eden . Fun happenings include Stonehenge, Bath, top-like chairs, and the European The Dark Knight Rises premier. No big deal, or anything.

BUT YOU KNOW WHAT IT A BIG DEAL?

The sun, friends. The sun, which is out and about today, shining all pretty and bright and I love you so much, blue sky. So. Much. The universe is in on our plan to ask strangers to take surveys in the park today.

Anyway.

Pictures.

Bristol!

Fact: I have fabulous friends.

Case in point: Joanna.

See, Joanna has been hanging out in Bristol for the last ten months, going to grad school like a boss. Seeing as I've known her for ages (EIGHT YEARS, WE FIGURED OUT. That is a LONG TIME. And we weren't even infants when we met! That makes us OLD OLD OLD.) and Megabus makes the 2.5 hours bus trip cheap as can be, I went to visit her!

She was, of course, a perfect hostess and I am so insanely thrilled to have had the chance to spend thirty-odd hours flailing around with her. 'Twas brilliant.

Since the kids had the camera, you will be treated to an Instagram montage. Complete with foolish, too-close pictures of MY FACE. Yay!

Notable happenings included:

Hiding in a coffee shop while the stupid rain pounded and catching up on years of missed time.

Walking along the water and being shocked by how cute everything is.

Seeing old buildings every five seconds, but, you know, no big deal that's only from the 1700s. Boring. (!!!!!)

Getting oodles of awesome extra info on the city because, hello, that's what happens when you prowl the streets with an archeologist.

Bemoaning people and pop culture because there are some fads that make our brains melt.

Trying and failing to bus to a castle and Costco. We asked for directions in a strange hotel, switched buses three times, and still ended up just coming back to Bristol and eating Subway to help ease the pain of defeat. It was crazy foolish and crazy awesome.

Having British children on the bus with us carry out loud, animated conversations about the differences between American and English.

Hiking up many considerable inclines.

Climbing (and climbing and climbing) a tower that let us see the whole city.

Visiting an apparently important suspension bridge. I was distracted by the sunshine. And the perfect weather. And the grassy hill that was perfect for collapsing on and almost-sleeping.

Seeing street art by an apparently famous dude. Banksy. 

SEEING JOANNA DUH THAT WAS THE BEST OBVIOUSLY.

London: Week One

So far, London has treated us fairly well. Of course, by this I mean that London has joined my list of cities that, if someone were to offer, I would move to in the time it took me to pack a purse.

The kids (Eden, Miles, Clare) are not so enthused. Probably because they've been seeing London through the eyes of busy students, while I mostly cruise around at my own pace and log hours and miles (and miles and miles) with Jessica. 

Ha!

Below, please find photographic evidence of our numerous and varied exploits, named for your convenience and to help inform your jealousy.

Green and green and green and only a little rain. In case you were wondering, I felt very at home in the desert room. So did Jessica.

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Well, it was a little lame and a lot more complicated than it should be, but no good geek's trip to London is complete without a visit to King's Cross. And we are nothing if not good geeks.

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An adventure I was sadly not a part of. This was Clare's favorite part of the week, though, likely due to the fact that they got to visit and walk through the hedge maze Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire was filmed in. 

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Because, duh, we're dorky dorks who dork-out whenever possible. If you haven't understood that already, no worries. More evidence this way comes! Sherlock Holmes Museum at 221B Baker Street was funny, funny, and made Clare giggle like the fifteen year-old girl she is.

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Sadly (awfully, horribly, heartbreakingly) we failed to spot and flail over any of our celebrity friends, but the BBC Studio tour was still very happy-making. Witness the right side of your screen: Miles got to play a fake game show (and lost horrible), and Eden and I got to be pretend newscasters (with stumbling and giggles). Next time, though! Next time we will see our friends!

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Picture in the upper right hand picture was stolen from here, which is from Sherlock, that TV show you should watch. We like going places from our favorite TV shows/books. A lot. What of it? 

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Like The Beatles, in case you missed that one. We walked for ages to reach Abbey Road, because I, ahhhh, seriously underestimated the length of our journey. It was mostly GoogleMaps fault, really. Also, if you ever think you want to try to take a picture like that above, consider trying at, like, two in the morning or something. Because when we were there, so were a lot of other people. And innocent Londoners trying to, you know, drive their cars. Result? Lots of running, getting in other pictures' ways, and honking. But. Still fun. And we have the picture!

And now I'm tired. And cold. And the rain won't go away. Wish us luck and sun.