Let's just say we are stuck on an 11:15 bedtime. Somehow I cannot move us to an earlier lights out. And yes, I have to admit it, I do not try very hard.
We wake up late of course -- and this is fine too. You do not eat your croissant before 9 here unless you have an early appointment or a flight to catch. This time we do a better breakfast routine. Just croissants! And yogurt for me. (We have cherries and strawberries leftover in the room.)
Once again I give Snowdrop some options. She tells me that what she would really like is a walk to the Eiffel Tower. That's a good hour from our hotel, but she insists she is really up for a long walk. I like that -- the walk is familiar and lovely, even if it is a hot hot day. We always pick the shady side of the street.
(it should not surprise me how affectionate people here are in public, and yet it always does)
(gaga, someone's watering this plant from above!)
Passing the Rue Cler market rouses her appetite a little.
Can we get a baguette for a snack?
Luck would have it that we would be, right at that moment, passing a bakery that got first prize a few years back in the baguette competition of Paris. (Yes, they have baguette competitions. And croissant competitions, and countless other food and drink competitions.)
So, the Eiffel Tower, with baguette. Rare is the trip where Snowdrop doesn't do this pilgrimage to the symbol of Paris.
Here's a weird thing: in the spaces to the south of the Tower (meaning the green fields that are soon to be "improved"), it's pretty empty this morning. We find a small group of tables by a refreshment stand, buy some water, and sit in glorious shade, and watch school children go by. Not much else going on. It's lovely!
(in pairs, holding hands is obligatory)
Snowdrop is quite into clothes shopping at Petit Bateau, which has simple casual stuff for kids and adults alike. Since everything is 50% off, I'm not opposed to returning to a nearby branch of it.
(eager)
I live to regret this decision: yesterday she begged for a rain coat. (I don't have one! I always have to borrow mommy's!) We got one. In size 10. Which fits her just fine, even though she is a tall girl. But in this Petit Bateau, she finds a size 12. "I like a bigger one so much more!" Well okay, but to exchange it, I'd have to bring the other one here -- which is a 45 minute walk -- today, as we are leaving tomorrow. She looks with longing at the coat. "That's fine. I like the small one okay..." Wouldn't you do what I did -- leave the girl to watch her tablet in the late afternoon and make your way back to do the exchange? Of course you would!
Okay, lunch time. At Cafe Varenne. If she has her Eiffel Tower routine, I have my Cafe Varenne routine. I come here every time I am in Paris. Today we arrive on the early side of the lunch period and so we score a good table.
Do you want pasta? Beans? No, fish and fries! She is on a roll.
A trip to the caramel candy store (there are three people in my family who love these sweets and she is one of those three)...
Then to the Department Store (mistake number two: this girl who increasingly looks, talks, acts like a teenager, who loves texting her friend and trying on perfumes at the perfume counter, is absolutely crazy about toys still).
And now home. Gaga, you keep calling the hotel "home!" I do, don't I...
In the evening we eat at a new for us place -- Brasserie Lipp. The restaurant is actually old (open for business since 1880), well known, and very traditional, very French traditional.
I chose it because I thought we would maybe stray into something other than fish and fries... Ha!
Snowdrop does start with a dish that is new for her -- razor clams. Which she loves. It's followed by a beautiful fillet of sea bass. Which she double loves. I opt for the Cod Brandade. I haven't had it since Ed and I spent summer weeks in Sorede. (A Brandade is a salted cod and potato mash and it originated in the southern region of Languedoc.) Honestly, I liked her dish better. Snowdrop tried mine and said -- it's good! But I'll stick with mine. Wise girl.
On the walk home, we pass over subway vents; she loves the burst of air, especially since she always wears shorts under a dress or skirt!
At the hotel, I request my bottle of bubbly wine, which they stored for me in their refrigerator. Yesterday, we passed a wine store and on an impulse, I asked about their non-alcoholic wines. They had quite a wide selection. This is France. Their wines a superb! I bought a bottle of white in the style of champagne. 0 %. I opened it in the evening. Sipping wine had been a lovely routine in my past. Why not rekindle those moments with a glass of this one! My expectations were high. I popped the cork, saw the bubbles, poured a glass. Ummm... no. To me it tasted like a somewhat dry fizzy apple juice. Nevertheless, it wasn't cheap so I wasn't going to waste it.
The desk clerks were curious about it. Was it good -- they asked. I told them my opinion and invited them to try it. After listening to me rant about it, their expectations were low. And perhaps for that reason, they liked it! I told them they could have the rest. I think it will be funny if they pour themselves glasses at the desk -- the guests will (mistakenly) think -- typical French. Always with a glass of wine at the side!
I'm not even trying for an early night tonight. I have to pack. We want to read. We'll sleep in tomorrow and nap during the plane ride to Reykjavik.
With so much love...
