Here Oui Oui Are!

Photo map:

1. You guessed it

2. Dogs can go in the restaurant with you in France!

3. Our first french dinner

4. All of it came in a plastic bag!

5. Sunsets over statues

There are a lot of french people in France. Walking down the cobblestone streets, your mind wants to hear American voices, but your ears hear french. A lot of french. It's awesome.

Before we arrived in Paris, we had some flying to do. It was a 13 hour flight to Paris. Good thing we got on the plane at 4pm so we could sleep most of the way. It was so amazing: each seat had its own television screen so we could all watch different movies, if we wanted to. Or regular tv. Or be like my dad and play miniature golf, and Who Wants to be a Millionaire and blackjack. All on that little screen while were watching The Blind Side.

Frances, who happens to be investigating the bidet right now, is yelling from the bathroom: "My best part about the plane was the 'safety package.' It had earplugs, cover-your-eye-things, a mini toothbrush with mini toothpaste, black socks, and a pen."

Moving on...not only on the airplane were there cool things! Unlike New York, everyone seems relaxed. They're not in a rush to go somewhere. Frances says she loves all the skinny jeans! Fashion is really big in Paris: like, a lot of women are wearing leggings and TALL black boots. And the buildings! They're all the same height, so they feel soft and kind of gentle. Except for one: and that is le Tour Eiffel! Tonight it was all lit up with silver sparkles flashing on it.

I can't wait to experience new things tomorrow, like le Louvre and eating crepes all day long. And I'll definitely write about it. Frances says, "I'm so excited to go to the park tomorrow. It has pools of plastic balls."

My mom says, "All through his speed skiing career, Jeff was known as "the luckiest guy in the world." The name was accurate for lots of reasons we won't go into now. But keep the name in mind as I tell this quick silly story. There we all were, grungy and mossy-toothed and limb-lagged by two jets. Waiting for a "grand taxi au Pareee?," and leaning on our incredibly cheery Patagonia luggage (green and orange). Waiting and waiting, wondering if we'd expressed ourselves clearly enough to the taxi caller, when suddenly a big taxi with our hotel's name on it flew by. Jeff ran to it and explained in what he admits is "caveman french" that we were booked at that very hotel and could the van take us to it! OUI OUI. Well, we all scrambled to the van, singing about how lucky we were. Once in and cozy and beaming at our luck, I confirmed that we were going to the Pullman PARIS, not the Airport Pullman. Screech, the van pulled over. No no no nononono. "We do not go to Pareeeee, only ze airporrrr. Jeff apologized for the confusion and asked, all happy and confident, if the van could take us to Paris anyway? After a quick discussion with the supervisor, the driver shrugged his shoulders, traded spots with a different driver, and off we went, in the forbidden van, the luckiest family in the world.

Also, I swear, just as the equator divides the earth into seasons, the half-way point in a trip (for me, on March 4, British Airways, just west of Greenland), tends to be the place when inertia kicks in...and, suddenly, what was vague and worrisome becomes bright and magnetic. All of a sudden, as I cross that half-way point from Truckee to France, the pull to be in a new place, speaking a new language, meeting new people, lightens the weight of leaving what I know and those I love.

And finally, I think at the very least, Eleanore and Frances are learning that the french are amazingly gracious TEACHERS. They love hearing me speak french--and love even more correcting me! It's like one big happy seminar in french. My dream. Everywhere I go, people are lending me a helping verb...etc. Gotta love how patient they are and what a great sense of humor they have!"

My dad says, "I'm sure happy my bike box made it."

It's me again, Eleanore: Now, all I have to say is, "fait de beau reve!"