Monday, June 28, 2010

Paris. In a hurry.

Ok. I have been before. I have spent hours at the Louvre, and oohed and ahhed in the many churches,  have shopped the streets, eaten at cafe's, drunk espresso at 2 am... I have strolled the Champs-Elysées from end to end... and i would have done it all again - in a heartbeat... if we all could have agreed, and if the cheapass RT AirFrance ticket from Madrid to paris to Athens and back to Atlanta had not been such a sweet deal- I mean, really- 3 countries for 900 bucks??!
So, you see the dilemma.
  When a plane takes you to Paris, you do what the youngest wants to do.
  and maybe you have some fun with the craZy cab ride and the jet lag setting in...

and you definitely shop, and eat, and admire 


  and you laugh at the old man breakdancing  in the blue tracksuit for a few euro.. and the naked statues, because you're punchy and you're American







and then you try to relive a bit of your youth by camping out at the airport for 5 hours until the connecting flight is ready to board- but you remember you're 47, not 27, and instead, you grab a very expensive room at the Sheraton connected to the hotel and settle into a clean, warm bed for 4 hours.
 before you look out your teeny plane window to see this:

oh yeah.

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