Its gotta be morning by now..right? No? Back to bed.

By the time we returned to our home away from home, we were getting pretty tired. The jet lag started to kick in and we were ready for some dinner and shut eye.

My husband was hell bent he needed a beer so we stopped off at Le Mazet on the other side of St. Michel in closer to the St. Germain district than the Latin Quarter but still close enough to get us back home quick.

After his needs for fermented hops was filled, we headed to the pizzeria under our hotel and decided pizza was going to be our first meal in Paris.

This is a continuing theme that my husband started when he went to Toulouse for business last fall. He too had pizza as his first French meal.

We scanned the different types of pizzas and my husband joked about how the French like their eggs...on everything....including pizza.

While I was intrigued as to what pizza tasted like with a yolky egg in the middle tasted like, I wasn't in the mood for too much experimenting. That would be for another day when my eyesight and taste buds weren't so blurring.

We opted for the 'Quatre Saisons' (four seasons) which had veggies and 'bacon' (cured ham).

Newly fed and now really starting to get tired we headed to our room. We did our best to stay awake until 7pm Paris time (about noon CST Sunday) but we passed out.

This was the beginning to several awakenings that night. The first for me was at about 9pm Paris time. The noise coming thru the slightly open patio door made me think it must be morning. I checked my watch thru very blurred vision, only to discover that it was only 9pm.

The noise below was coming from the dinner crowd. The French eat much later than we are accustomed too. At our house, we eat dinner at 5:30/6pm. The French, they eat at 8/9pm.

I stumbled backt to back to bed, only to be re awakened at 11pm, then 2am and finally 7am. At 7am, I decided that was it, I was getting up. I was really groggy but I couldn't take it anymore.

Around 9am, we were both awake and needing coffee. Jet lag was not going to get the better of us, we had the City of Lights to explore!

Austere addresses

Before we went to the Luxembourg Gardens, we passed by a small park next to the St. Germain de Pres church.

As we discovered, nearly every church we passed during our trip to Paris have these little gardens. Some have play structures for children, while others just have benchs to sit and contemplate the day. Many parents take the children to the parks to enjoy the quiet of the outdoors or just to have a snack.

On this occasion, we stopped and nibbled on the baguette we bought and continued on our way. Of course, I got the obligatory pictures.

S enjoying our first baguette in Paris!

A photo of the architecture from the garden. Saint Germain de Pres is one of the oldest churches in Paris. I wouldn't be surprised if some of this stone work was from a previous incarnation of the church or at least replicas.

We continued along from the Luxembourg Gardens and then onto the Pantheon. We took some pictures of the outside of Pantheon.

Here is an overall shot of the Pantheon.

Here is an example of the architectural detail. Its truly amazing just how they did all this work!

Just passed the Pantheon, we apied a small church (Eglise Saint Etienne du Mont). It was free and quite quaint on the outside, compared to the Pantheon. We went inside and the noise from the street disappeared.

Those who know me, know that I am not the most religious of people but I do understand the reverance that those who chose to worship feel when they enter a church. There is something about old churches that really intrigue me.

Whenever I enter an older church, its like looking at an antique and wondering about its past. Who has passed through its doors? Who has been baptized, married, or mourned there? Its one of those times that I really wish the walls quite talk.

They don't sell trees like that at Home Depot!

We tried our hotel again around12:30pm and success! They offered us two rooms. The one we booked and one for an additional 10€ a night. The main difference aside from the original one only having a shower versus the more expensive one having a tub and pseudo shower fixture, was the size.

The 10€ a night more, offered not only more space but also two balconies that you could sit out and watch the street below.

Um yeah, we will take the larger room.

After much needed showers, we headed off to explore. One thing I found really nice about this hotel was that you left your key at the desk. Awesome idea so you don't have to worry about losing it and well, it was a huge key and tag.

We headed over the Luxembourg Gardens and eventually the Pantheon and a small church. My first thought was, where can they teach me to sculpt my evergreens like this? And the second was, wow.

The housing in Paris is quite small in comparision to North American standards but they have gorgeous outdoor living. There was acres and acres of gardens and paths. Everyone was sitting and reading/talking/observing the world around them. This is something that is unheard of where I currently reside.

And there wasn't a university logo-ed tshirt in sight!

A brief taste of the very large gardens.



We were asked to take a tourist photo for another group of tourists, so they kindly took one of us. Please forgive the baggy eyes, we've been up for a very long time by this point.



Let's be honest, did you think I would go all the way to Paris and not one picture (okay a few pictures) of flowers?

We paused in the gardens to call home and see how T was doing with the grandparents. All was well so we headed off until we found a main street and then we headed towards the Pantheon.

I read about that

Off we strolled to our hotel and checked in. We were advised that they weren't ready for us and we could drop off our luggage in the room behind the desk. It was now 10am and they advised us to try back around 1:30pm.

No worries, I just wanted a shower and a change of clothes but that would have to wait. So off we went in search of food. Our bodies were telling us it was 2am but we were in PARIS, time for some petit dejeuner!

We stopped in the small cafe on the corner by our hotel. We ordered sucrees (wheat pancakes like crepes), an expresso and a cafe creme (my soon to be new favourite boisson). The bill arrived and heavens, it was nearly 20€ (about 30$US). Our baptism into just how expensive this trip would be and one very important lesson - avoid eateries in tourist oriented areas at all costs.

After our meal, we were newly energized so we headed out to investigate the area. This is where I would like to take the opportunity to tell everyone, don't bring a big carry on bag and a shoulder bag. Its great if you are going to the hotel and checking in right away but if you are going to walk around first, a knapsack is a better option. I'm no Rick Steves but it is just a suggestion.

While researching for a trip, you often hear stories about scams and predatory thieves. I thought we would be very wise to this type of things seeing as we are both well educated people. I even bought a special 'theft' proof bag in which to carry my new super zoom et al. We carried wallets in front pockets and booked a hotel room which had a safe in the room. All good ideas when travelling far from home.

What I didn't count on was my husband being his normal generous self. As long as I've known him, he always tries to help out the less fortunate by giving spare change.

As we walked down one of those picturesque cobble stone streets, my husband and I were approached by a young girl, maybe 20 or so, who stopped us and asked if we spoke English. I knew right away what was going on.

In Paris and likely other major EU cities, there are groups of people, some call them Gypsies, who approach tourists and ask them if they speak English. If the tourist says yes, they open a note written in English detailing some story like their mother has died, they are destitute etc. and ask for small change. This is but one story they tell or scenario they try to scam you with. Other include the gold ring trick (detailed later) as well as others we avoided by other groups of tricksters.

The girl held up a note detailing her situation, so my husband being the man I married, started for his coin holder. I verballly cautioned him. He didn't get the message, so I tried again. I said this is a scam. Not two seconds after I said that, a shopkeeper who had been watching from his store doorway, shhed at the girl and she took off.

After she left, I remember my husband of what I had read. Not an hour later, when we were sitting in a small church garden near our hotel, we saw the exact same girl again. She approached us and tried the same scam on me (as my husband was reading). She tried this time to tell me that she was pregnant etc. Meanwhile, her partner was across the park, trying to hit up another tourist. When it didn't work, she turned and off she went, whistling to her partner, I gather to regroup.

How much did you pay for that suitcase?

Apparently, we didn't pay enough. Or maybe we should have tried to figure out a way to tip the baggage handlers because my new luggage was also newly baptized by having a foot amputated.

It no longer stood on its own, rather it had to balanced on one foot and was easily tipped over. I joked to my husband that maybe on the way home, the baggage folks could knock off the other foot so it was equally limbless...how true this would become.

After we got out luggage, stopped a la toilette, we hailed a cab and off we went on our little adventure to find our hotel.

The cabbie was kind enough to drop us off at the entrance to the side street that led to our hotel so we could have a lower cab fare. The seat reclining incident was slowly fading from memory.

We glided our luggage down the cobble stone street to our hotel. The small sign indicating our hotel peaked out from behind the multitude of little bistro and ethnic restaurant signs. The crowds chattered around us. It was still early, only about 9:30am but my mind was already fully awake and anxious to explore.

Not stuck in customs

Having gone through US and Canadian customs many a time, I am used to being questioned about what I am bringing into the country, the purpose of my visit, where am I going, where am I staying etc. etc. etc.

But like many things, the French are different. No questions, they scanned my passport and off we went. Somehow I just don't feel safe unless I am questioned anymore.

Off to baggage claim!

Oh no, you didn't!

Okay so we survived the commuter flight to Chicago and tore across O'Hare to reach our transatlantic flight.

We discovered the week before we left that United had changed our flight departure times. So instead of the 2.5 hour layover in Chicago, we only had 45 minutes on paper to race from domestic arrivals to international departures.

If you've ever been to O'Hare, this meant going from F terminal all the way over to C terminal. We could take a shuttle bus but we've tried that in the past and its often faster to walk.

Walking means hauling your carryon baggage. I generally travel with the theory that they are going to a) lose my luggage and/or b) my luggage will arrive late. This theory has always worked well, even in the post 'No more than 3 ounces per containre, crammed into a 1 quart baggie' world we live in.

After being glided thru the spacious business and first class sections, we were crammed into economy. Crammed is a kind word for prepare yourselves to be treated like those crabs they catch on that Discovery show and shove into holding tanks.

But wait, you can upgrade yourself for 100$ US for which you get 5 more inches in Economy Plus!

Now 5 inches or 10 cm for my fellow Canadians, what does that mean to you? For me, its about the span between my pinkie and my thumb when I do the surfer hand jesture. That doesn't seem like a lot of room but it can mean more than you think, at least to some.

To us on this particular flight, it was the difference between having your knees up around your shoulders when you eat or having the capacity to actually get into your seat.

For the two French tourists returning home in the Economy Plus section directly in front of us, it meant not enough room. They had those heavenly five extra inches but that wasn't enough.

No, they had to recline their seats be to the fullest extent so that they might stretched ou like those in the business section. Forget that there actually might be people behind them who might actually like to move.

My husband had to eat his dinner and spend about 7.75 hours with his knees jammed up around his ears. I on the other hand had a 45 minute reprive while I ate my dinner and sipped my cranberry juice.

I had not sooner finished said juice when the seat in front of me reclined with such a snappy action that had I not drank my juice it would have landed on my lap, staining my one of three pairs of mommy jeans I had for my trip.

The flight attendant stood next to me when the seat flew back and her eyes were as wide as mine. Now, why didn't I say anything? Would it have made much difference? I doubt it.

Actions speak louder than words. My husband is as polite as they come. Me, I'm passive aggressive. Being such a person, I banged my knees rather hard on the back of the seats to express my displeasure.

The reaction? Both travellers jumped with shock at the action and moved the seat in front of me by about an inch. Honestly, what do you expect when you inpinge on what little room your fellow travelers have? Just because you can recline your seats, doesn't mean you should.

I had been told the French were snotty but this was not a good start to our French holiday. Thankfully, their fellow country men and women made up for this international incident.