{ Paris: Post 3 )

Whenever I think of Paris, I think of the song La Vie En Rose.

I rather expected it to be magically playing (in the air) while I explored the city.  But the song I really had stuck in my head, for the entire trip, was from French Kiss.  You know, when Meg Ryan’s character is sitting in the plane, singing, “I hate Paris in the spring-time . . .because my love is there with his slut girlfriend.”  Le sigh.

Sunday in Paris was better than Saturday. 

We spent a couple hours walking down Champs-Élysées, a beautiful tree-lined avenue with incredible architecture . . . Until we reached the Eiffel Tower on the far end.

{ To prove I was really there. }

And then we had lunch.

 Kate: [to Luc] You'll become one of those hunchbacked, lonely old men, sitting in the corner of a crowded cafe, mumbling to yourself, "My ass is twitching. You people make my ass twitch."

Afterwards, we took a bus to Place Victor Hugo.  The prettiest part of Paris (I think).  

We found a Starbucks and I finally had some familiar coffee.    

See how happy I am?

 Then we visited the opposite side of the Eiffel Tower and took more photographs.

In the park, several elderly men were playing a game of pétanque.  

So I took a picture of them.

 We had dinner at the perfect little Italian café.  (I wanted spaghetti.)  

And on the way home, I got stuck in two sliding doors on my way to the metro.  And whatever Tim tells you, it was not funny.  I hate the metro.

To be continued . . .