I've been to Paris three times in my lifetime, and each and every time
has been such a different experience. The first time was just after my freshman year in college
with my friend Kim, and a group of college kids. I saw the form on the wall outside my foreign language class and knew I had to go! I saved $7 a night from my waitress job, added it to the $800 I had in the bank, and for a solid year, I thought of nothing else. I even had a poster of The Eiffel tower on my wall to keep me focused on my goal! When we got there, the city felt huge! I was so young, and insignificant among all those ancient, historically important buildings. The 2Nd time I was with Juan just after we were married. We were back packing through Europe and it was easier leaning on him, with his fluency in French and his friendly way of talking with anyone and everyone. We got to really know the people of Paris that time. The 3rd, with my kids and niece, well, with being on a tour this time, it was truly about seeing the sites. We made it to the top of the Eiffel Tower, we conquered all 242 steps to the top of Notre Dame (and back down again!), we sailed up the Seine River, we had dinner at Ladure, the most famous restaurant on the Champs E'Lysee, and we took a beautiful tour of Paris at night, and will forever be mesmerized at the exquisite perfection of this French city in lights. Each time was special, and each time, very, very different--so much so, I never thought I could have had the next experience had I not gone back. I am glad I did. :>
Memories of note: The afternoon we spent on the Champs E'Lysee comes to mind. I smile to myself every time I remember how grumpy my three travel buddies were that day. I made them walk the two miles from the Louvre to the L'Arc de Triomphe- "so they could really get the feel of being in Paris!" We had just finished our tour of famous paintings (the kids got to be junior detectives!) and had the rest of the day to ourselves. We decided to join two other families from our tour that we had connected with, and make the trek up the "Avenue of the Trees". The kids weren't sure about our ambitious adventure but I knew we HAD to do it.
I made sure we stopped here and there for lots of fun things--chocolate crepes(!), then Niko got a cool pair of skate shoes, Amanda found a great t-shirt of her own and Lauren picked out a darling purple beret! Our lovely stroll up that beautiful, tree-lined street was memorable but (and I smile again when I think of this) was still sprinkled with Niko's insistence, "Can we get a taxi NOW?" I would smile and say, "But that would spoil our adventure!" Much to every one's dismay I'm sure, we never did get that taxi -but we did make it to the Arc, and we did see our family name, DeMont, on the monument too! I'm still not sure about them but for me, Goal set, goal met! All in all, no regrets. :>
I took my kids to Paris. Do I think they got the full impact of what that really means?
Probably not. I know I thought I did when I was 19, but now at (well, not 19) I still know
every time is a new chance to learn something else. This time, I learned my own French is much better than I had remembered, and we all thought the Mona Lisa was remarkably unremarkable. Disneyland Paris is called the "Little Park" because it is a compact version of the one here, and is now my favorite of all them. While climbing the 242 steps up the narrow, winding steps of Notre Dame I kept thinking, I'm not gonna make it, and then my daughter would say, "You okay, Mama?" and then I'd smile and think, "Now I am" and I would keep going. Also, many people in Paris know English, but prefer not speak it because they think they will embarrass themselves and get it wrong. Most importantly though, I know my travel buddies got the FLAVOR of Paris. Amanda and Lauren embraced the fast pace of the city, and the foreign language. They just went with it and enjoyed themselves. Niko although, a little unsettled by the difference of it all, really got the French way of doing things. I'll never forget the drive back from our afternoon bicycling around the 2 mile lake at the Palace of Versailles; we had a lovely time and I for one was feeling happy and sleepy. We got on the coach, buckled up, and I slipped right into a nap. A short time later, I felt sweet little kisses coming up my arm. I peeked my eyes open and what do I see? The sweet face of my little boy smiling up at me as he is placing gentle kisses all the way up my arm, and then he says, "This is what the French men do when they love the pretty ladies, mommy!" I laughed and said, "You, my sweet, are a true Frenchmen!"
.jpg)
