A perfect day in Paris starts with a perfect nap in the park. This is one thing Kylie and I are super good at. Give us a soft patch of grass and we will sleep like a homeless person's drugged cat. But to precede the napped, we needed to pick the perfect place and the perfect baguette. We found both in front of Invalide. We also went to the open air market that morning and bought the best strawberries of all time. While finding the best strawberries, we stumbled across some really nasty smelling fish. No thanks.
I have absolutely no use for spices out here, but I wanted to buy some from this man because he rocked the display.
So the picque-nique in front of Invalide consisted of cheese, une baguette and strawberries.
Perfect...then we slept for a few hours and woke well rested and sun burned. My sunburn has already turned into a pretty awesome tan. I wish I could say the same for Kylie. All I am going to say is Barcelona is going to be awesome.
After nap time, we realized it was too late to go to Invalide and see Napoleon's tombe, so we walked to a different park instead. This time the Tuilerie gardens, our frequent stomping grounds. The goal was to get some homework done... Kylie and I pretty much just held our journals open in our laps, but I think the fact that we just made the effort to get them out at all, made us feel pretty accomplished. However, we were really just passing the time checking out EuroHotties and enjoying the sun. Due to a series of unfortunate events and lots of things blowing into the foutaine, the EuroHottie from across the way from us decided that 2 seconds of eye contact was an invitation (typical french) and came over to talk with us. Only, unfortunately, EuroHottie was a EuroNottie. Somehow that small distance from across the pond made him much more attractive than he really was... so that was disappointing. Fortunately we needed to meet some people for a play, so we had an excuse to get out of that one. EurNottie was not great, but he was still no competition for the crepe stalker of the Bastille. I'll still be looking for you on facebook Mr. Fyfe, the picture with your scarf held seductively over for face... who know to which one I am referring.
After leaving EuroNottie, I was walking down the Rue de Rivoli and ran into Napoleon Bonaparte, so I had to take a picture with my favorite imperialist. He was a saucy one. He started off by asking if I wanted to take the picture with his clothes on or off? ON is just fine Napoleon.
He was from Argentina, so his Napoleon gig is only temporary, but I think he did a pretty good job. I am sure Napoleon was pretty cheeky himself. In one letter to Dear Josephine he wrote, "I'll be home in three days...don't bathe." What a dirty little bloke.
