Au Revoir Paris

Au Revoir Paris

After 15 days away from our home sweet home we are finally back. Only 4,000 miles, 2 flights , 8 passport checks, 10 movies watched collectively and several questions about why we have to board by zones (read:  there seems to be a passive displeasure amongst the kids that we don’t seem to have very good luck with zones) we are finally settled back home in Fort Mill.  This home seems to reside in a much, much warmer and more humid climate, seems to be devoid of much edible food and might or might not have received a letter about unruly lawn upkeep.  No matter, as it was deeply missed and has more than one bathroom. It is good to be back. 

I feel a strong need to sum the trip up but have found it profoundly difficult to do so.  I’m going to keep it simple and focused on the positives. We walked. A lot. We rode metros daily. Will is awesome at navigating subway lines.  We saw thousands of pigeons and counted most of them. Charlie was enamored by them. We saw all of the sights in Paris we wanted to see, even if we bagged the 11pm tickets for going up in the Eiffel Tower. The kids understand the feelings that cities can evoke.  While they liked Paris, they LOVED Belgium. I love them for seeing the distinction. Stewart loved dining at the cafes, shopping at H&M (please don’t tell her it didn’t originate in Paris) and seeking out gelato. She has a spirit for travel that I hope never goes away. Charlie has the legs and “I’m not tired” attitude to thru-hike any trail. I hope he will take me with him. And Cindy…her patience with our daily itinerary and my march about Paris in the rain to see the Tour de France whiz by a few quick times is almost what I love about her most.  Truth is, it is her ability to make experiences for our kids happen and her day-in, day-out friendship and that smile that says “relax, this is all what makes a good life” are the things I love about her the most.  

This trip was one my family will never forget. I will always be grateful for the opportunity we were given here and the shared experience that I so deeply value with my family.  Best case, this is one of many great travel opportunities to come for us as a family.  Worst case, we have hopefully provided our kids with a set of great memories and given them a spark to go out and explore this great and fascinating world.

Some last observations from our day of travel:

  • A Paris cab will charge you for wait time, even if he arrives for pick-up earlier than the scheduled time. 
  • Tip: apparently if you give your boarding passes to a 6 year old to hand to the boarding agent you can board with any zone you please. Nice work Charlie. 
  • Dear Philadelphia Airport TSA Team:  please go visit the Heathrow Airport Team to understand how to secure an airport AND help travelers make connections. Novel concept.  On the bright side, we made it in spite of your efforts.  Pointing those fans on the customers in line also wouldn’t hurt. 
  • Dear American Airlines:  ice cream for all on the flight back is a really nice touch that seemed to excite more than just me and my three kids. 
  • Dear Charles de Gaule Airport: maybe a touch less emphasis on super high-end shopping and a touch more emphasis on drinking fountains and general hydration.
  • Stewart and Will, although at times a bit like an elderly married couple, travel EXTREMELY well together. 
  • We are already experiencing baguette withdrawal.  The kids don’t understand why their hot dogs are served on these weird soft buns. 
  • And last, my boy takes his in-flight movie watching comfort VERY seriously.   
Penultimate Or The Ultimate?

Penultimate Or The Ultimate?

I’ve been watching the Tour de France religiously each July since my Dad introduced me to it around age 10. I would watch the Saturday/Sunday coverage of the week and immediately following would hop onto my bike and tear off around the block with the voices of the British commentators echoing in my head. Anyone who has visited my home in the month of July or worse, vacationed with us during July has seen the addiction, uh, I mean passion with which I follow this event firsthand. While coming to a foreign, historic, art-filled, cultural city like Paris with my full family is as once in a lifetime as it gets, seeing The Tour on our penultimate day in Paris on one of The Tour’s most prestigious stages was the ultimate. 

Yes, cycling has some flaws, many of which have played out in ways even the best marketer wouldn’t wish on their worst enemy. But in spite of the flaws, I can’t get past what makes the sport so great. Immense strategy. Team over the individual – 6-8 riders on every team of 9 are riding for one leader and will sacrifice their standings, rank and fame to ensure the success of this pre-defined leader. The magnitude of racing over 21 days, 2000+ miles and unimaginable elevation change, never mind weather, crashes and a filled schedule from wake until sleep. There’s the color and pagentry of Grand Tour cycling. Today for the first time we witnessed the sponsors parade which arrived in Paris roughly 90 minutes ahead of the riders and lasted for at least 45 minutes. Modified cars wrapped in LCD screens, performers harnessed into or even above these cars, music blaring and sometimes even freebies being tossed. It was truly a circus. Borderline ridiculous but they clearly knew their audience and were clearly thrilled to have made it through the final day of twenty one straight parades around France. Only a few of these riders are wealthy from cycling. Most won’t ever get rich from cycling. They dedicate themselves to a sport for the sport. Most have been riding competitively since their early teens and few names will ever be memorialized like Hinault, Merckx, Lemond, Indurain or Froome. It takes passion to do this. Plain and simple. That’s why I love it. That’s why seeing the biggest race in this sport on the final day of this year’s race was so cool to me. Bucket list item checked. I hope one day to get back and see it again. 

It needs to be noted about how great and patient my family was with me yesterday. I had done some research on where to view but was constantly worried about not finding a good spot. They put up with the jumpiness from me that ensued. Moreover, they wandered around in a steady rain for about two hours as we awaited the riders’ arrival in Paris. A cold rain with a steady breeze. Then they put up with me as I watched every lap of the race. I’m grateful for their toughness and support of me when staying in a warm, dry museum or apartment would have been much easier. 

Here how our day played out in pictures. 

   My Storm Troopers. I’m grateful. 

Charlie’s only shoulder ride the entire trip. Aka, best seat in the house. 

    The Flame Rouge. 

 Norwegian priorities are never in doubt. Beer first, view second. 
   One pic from the parade. Nutso marketing gone bad or great jobs for kids just out of college??

 Caption: “I’ve ridden in this rodeo before.” Great idea. 
 This time we play “Where’s Stewart?”  Little did she know she’s illegally standing in the flowers. But a view from a hill beats one from below it. 

 And we wait for the riders to reach Paris. 
 The Peleton heading up the Champs Élysées (CE). We had a great spot with mostly shorter folks in front of us. 🙂  

 Following tradition, Froome’s Yellow Jersey team leads the first lap in Paris. 

   The Peleton coming back down the CE. Sagan in the green jersey to the right. 

 We saw a 5 second flat fix and go right in front of us!
   The breakaway on lap 6. Never more than 30 seconds ahead, they were eventually caught. 

 The traditional French Air Force flyover. 
Who knew they made special pizza knives? I also have some cool video and super slo-mo shots that I’ll try to post later. 

For now Paris, Au Revoir. 



Over 9,000 heroes memorialized for their valor has a way of socking it to you gut. Seeing video footage of what they actually went through in the early morning hours of June 6, 1944 and for the months afterwards will bring you to tears. It was not until after stepping out of the Cimetiere American de Normandie (American Cemetery of Normandy) and seeing the perfectly manicured grounds alongside the rugged coastline do you fully understand the magnitude of their sacrifice. It is a moment I will never forget. It is a place I feel privileged to have visited. It is a thankfulness to their sacrifice and service that my words and actions will never be able to communicate. 

In less than 24 hours time that we had in the area, we only touched on a small part of what the area had to offer. If you have less than a day here like we did, then I highly recommend the following three sights. 

  • The American Cemetery – above Omaha Beach it sits in the middle of the landing sights with Sword, Juno and Gold beaches to the east near Caen and Utah to the west just past Mont St-Michel. Bayeax provides a nice central location with many tours (bike, minivan and private guide) based here.  The grounds and museum here rival what you see in Arlington, VA at the Arlington National Cemetery. 
  • Musee Memorial d’Omaha Beach (Omaha Beach Museum) – described by some as a museum of rusted junk in someone’s garage I’d say my expectations were low and easily exceeded. The movie at the end is worth waiting to watch. The war trinkets they have collected were excellent and interesting. This museum deserves 90 minutes minimum and could easily take 3 hours. 
  • Pointe du Hoc (U.S. Ranger Memorial) – this memorial had a modest museum and brief movie but the power was found on the cliffs above the ocean. Seeing what the Rangers scaled was unbelievable. Seeing dozens of bombing craters 20+ feet deep from the air strikes preceding the invasion makes it hard to understand how the Germans were still holding ground here at the time of the D-day invasion.  The coolest part of the exhibit was walking through the bunkers and imagining the scene that took place 71 years ago. 

The kids seemed to really enjoy the time here and I think over the years the kids will appreciate it more as they learn about this important period in history. Several times during the day Cindy and spend time talking about both of our granddads who spent time in the war. My grandfather on my Dad’s side was in the infantry in the days following D-day (Dad – I’ll need to learn much more about what you know about his time over there – this time I promise I’ll listen). Cindy’s Grandpa spent time in the Phillipines during WWII and had many humorous and colorful stories about his time during the war. When Cindy asked to see his uniform he emphatically stated  (paraphrasing) “I burned that damn thing the very minute I could.  It smelled like all the smells I want to forget.”

While I would advocate spending 2-3 days in the area, if you want a good taste of D-Day you can absolutely get it with 24 hours in Normandy and a zippy car like our Clio.  Below you will find our day in pictures. 


Moving. The last museum stop before exiting to the cemetery.  
The photos above are the best I have from the American Cemetery at Omaha Beach. 

Omaha beach, the Museum at Omaha Beach and a break for lunch with D-Day craft beer advertised next to Cindy. 


Cindy outside of the Pont du Hoc Museum.   

Will in a bomb crater at least 20 feet deep. 

 One of the intact German bunkers. 4-6 foot walls reinforced with heavy steel rebar.  
The kids running amongst the craters.   
Pont Du Hoc. Unreal. 

The cliffs the Rangers scaled. The first wave sent in to dismantle the large turret guns. On the first wave, 6 of 15 men survived.   

The Ranger memorial. 

A view from the primary bunker on the point. Eerie (except for cute Stewart). 

View from a gun hole. 

Stewart’s turn. 

A brief but amazing tour of Omaha Beach. Without a doubt a worthwhile stop for anyone visiting France!

Road Trip!

Road Trip!

We are nearing another weekend which means it is time for another out of Paris tour. This time by car!  Let me set the stage leading up to our brief day trip to the Normandy area.  Cindy was off to work early on Friday and me and the kids spent the morning relaxing. Yes, this statement is written with some inner guilt and turmoil given Cindy’s off slaving away in corporate France. Prior to lunch the kids and me visited our favorite Bulouger for sandwiches and a few pastries. It is our favorite place because they always throw in a few free sweet treats – this time it was 6 extra kruller-like donut holes with a fancy French name (croquilles maybe?).  Then we walked to a nearby park and ate while watching ducks, ducklings and koi fish battle for turf and territory. Who am I kidding, we mainly watched Charlie count and chase pigeons.  Once finished with lunch we crossed the street to another park to spend time at the playground and up our pigeon count.  This is where Stewart learned she doesn’t walk as good on her face as she does her feet. Her description while half crying and half laughing: “a spinny thing spit me off and I face-planted.”  Will, evoking his best Inpression of his Grandpa said, “but you should see the other guy.”
Then we embark on a comedy of traveling errors that we luckily haven’t yet encountered on this trip. 

Error 1:  We purchase about 45 Euros worth of train tickets to the Orly airport when they should have cost roughly 18 Euros. No comment (and also no refund). Why were we going to the Orly airport you ask?

Error 2:  we rented a car from an airport at the advice of the famed Rick Steves. This guy is usually flawless, but turns out I fear driving in the city of Paris far less than I fear wasting money and time getting to the airport car rental. I get it Mr. Steves, you were only trying to save us the hassle of city driving. Commendable, but lesson learned. 

Error 3: taking the local RER (stops at all 9 stops and un-air conditioned) vs the express (1-2 stops and air conditioned).  Minor but made the cost of the ticket feel that much more painful. 

Error 4: not realign the RER to Orly Airport required a 5-6 mile bus connection on the world’s most crowded piggy-back bus.  Here we are standing, and sweating.  For those of you who know my Brother-in-law Jeff, please let him know his doppelgänger was on the bus with us. 

Error 5:  Realizing the first four errors could have been avoided had we only known how close to Cindy’s work the Hertz location was where we returned the car. 1-2 metro stops away. Live and learn, right?

Our vehicle:  A 5-door, 5-speed Reneault Clio diesel. Lean and mean. We drove 350 miles and had at least 1/3 tank of gas left. Other than having a 0-60 speed that rivaled my bicycle, it was a perfectly effective vehicle. Here’s a picture of Will standing next to it. Interestingly, cars seemed to stay out of our way.   

 Kidding, here’s the actual car. 

If you have read my prior posts about France you may have picked up on my ongoing struggle with how to classify, uh ok, generalize, the French into a simple easy description. They are a people like none other. Paradoxical. Well, seeing their driving behaviors has left me more conflicted than ever. For my American audience, please pay close attention to the next several sentences. The French drive WONDERFULLY. The roadways are in great condition (likely because we paid 25 Euro in tolls one way for the privilege). The speed limits are typically either 50km, 70km, 90km, 110km or 130km (simple and the car’s nav reminds you when you are exceeding it). Very few people exceed the speed limit. If they are speeding they invariably had Great Britain or German license plates. Everyone drives in the right lanes and only uses the left lanes to pass. If faster traffic is coming from behind people actually move over to let it pass.  Equally amazing is trucks were not allowed in the left lane and were kept to speeds that were slower than car traffic. On uphill stretches, nearly all uphill stretches, the trucks were provided an extra right hand lane. We drove with magical flow for the entire trip. 

One more amazing thing. We drove through several tunnels that were miles long that routed through traffic UNDER cities. Imagine if we took all of the daily traffic passing by Uptown Charlotte and routed them underground while everyone going into Charlotte stayed above ground?  While you are imagining this, imagine trains filled with passengers speeding by the car traffic. I imagine our habits would change. I imagine that I’ll have to keep imagining. 

Last few points about our trip. The roads and towns in and around Normandy are amazing. Quaint, rural, scenic and filled with cyclists, farm equipment and history. If I’m fortunate enough to make it back to France I vow to spend much more time exploring these roads. Here are a few more pictures leading up to our time in Normandy. Normandy deserves a separate post so I’ve tried to divide the topics of traveling by car and the sights of Normandy. 

The location of Stewart’s face plant. Caution lad, that spring thing spins fast!  
 Cindy driving on the outskirts of Paris. Lots. Of. Concentration. 

Hey, where’s the third row in this thing?  Welcome back to the 80s kids.  Now get those heads back down into your devices. 
 Apparently my photography of the interestingness of this French McDonalds was lost on this man.  Seriously, you order from Kiosks here?  With no lines? AND they deliver the food to your table?  The French must be appalled at our American McDonalds experience.  The food was eerily the same quality (no comments on the level of quality).

This turquoise-trunked car is made mostly of plastic and is a collector’s item in France.  The name of it escapes me. 

The French road sign deer are much faster than our American road sign deer. 

  I could use more education on exactly what these road signs mean. I knew enough to make sure I was on the right road that corresponded with the red sign.   
 I could drive on roads like these all day. Speed limits were around 30mph so you might literally drive on these roads all day. 
Cool church serving a town of less than 100 people. So. Cool. 

  Another fine road, this one used as much by farm equipment and bikes as by cars. 

Next post:  Normandy. 



I’m pretty sure when translated this means “huge old church on Paris’ tallest hill with an incredible view of the city” or “yep, just as tall here as you are on the much higher priced and longer-lined Eiffel Tower.”  

An easy 10 minute walk from our apartment and well-timed in our trip given it is one of the cooler days we have had here in Paris. We’ve moved from highs in the mid-90s last week to highs in the upper 70s this week. So, so nice. Will counted all 197 steps up to the base of Sacre-Coeur and then the remaining 326 to the top of the viewing spot on the dome. A world class view with a decent workout to justify the pastry I promised the kids on our way home later, contingent on good behavior of course. And yes, I’ve resorted to treat-based bribery since some of their trust in my daily planning was rightfully eroded with yesterday’s forced march. 

We also ate two meals out in restaurants which shows we are slowly getting more skilled in using broken French to obtain sustenance. Don’t judge me if the first one was an Italian place that primarily served pizza. It should be noted that the true Italians who have opened shop in France seemed to get a fair amount of enjoyment in answering my very broken French with strictly Italian phrasing and wait for it, a smile. Ahhh, so nice to share in a laugh with people we do t know.  We may only eat Italian from now until our departure. 

Today was low key and I think we all needed it. We rested more than any of the past days and even played with some of the toys (building blocks, mini pinball game and some Wii) in the apartment.  Will and me have managed to catch a French cold. His is DEFINITELY turning into a “man-cold” while I’m determined to keep mine in the “it-isn’t-a-big-deal-cold” department. This is partly because Cindy has pulled a few big days in various Accenture locations and doesn’t deserve to be bothered. She’s pretty darn impressive. Commuting 20 minutes to work, working through some of the cultural challenges while getting stuff done and on some days catching a few hours with the U.S. side of her job. Not to mention the crowded subways, fatigue of French food fare (although we all may take a good long break from bread after this trip) and the grit that life in a city this big offers.  On top of it all, she’s determined to get an honest to goodness, hearty laugh out of the French people while she’s here. I wish her luck with the latter as it is a taller order than I ever respected. 

Here’s our day in pictures:

Awaiting our pizzas…the funny exchange with the Italian owner as well. 

Filled with pizza, we embark to tackle the steps to Sacre-Coeur (in background). 

At the top of the first 100 or so steps. Note Charlie’s new favorite shirt – local pro soccer team, PSG.   
Proof I’m actually on the trip. We stand at the base of Sacre-Coeur. 


And now for a game of “Where’s Will.” 
Cindy, if you are one of my four readers, I SWEAR I have a strong grip on Charlie.  

Paris is huge. Stewart enjoyed that the street peddlers who were aggressively pushing their cheap trinkets, folded their blankets into their bags and blended in with the tourists upon sighting of the police. She’s fascinated by how they know when to sell and when to blend. 

Hi Mom!  Cindy’s somewhere back there in those tall building (La Defense). 

This guy was playing some great sounding wedding music. The kids have enjoyed the various street musicians in Paris and were surprised that we have some of these in Charlotte (a parental miss). 

Charlie getting some engineer/architect on for his downtime. He spent 90 minutes building this rendering of Paris. 

Mom’s daily ritual of foot washing after returning “home” from her commute. Not sure Charlie appreciated sharing his bath with this activity. 

Tomorrow we head out on our first French drive. A visit to Normady/Bayeaux to soak in the WWII history. 

Park It!

Park It!

It is quite possible I’ve been too hard on our gracious hosts, the Parisians.  For their faults in the departments of mopeds, excessive smoking and taking themselves too seriously, they have figured out all things related to parks.  Even the parking of their cars – they can get cars into spaces us Americans would never consider. And yes, bumping your way into a space is completely acceptable. 

But for purposes of this post, allow me to spend a few minutes on park, er parc, life in Paris.  As previously mentioned, the European respect for the lunch hour runs deep here and many enjoy said hour lounging in a park setting both alone, with friends and with family. Quite a refreshing habit, I imagine.  However, parks aren’t solely enjoyed by lunch goers. People of all types are found in these parks. They are crowded spaces. They have tons of benches, yet a seat can be hard to find. The grassy areas are bordered by foot-high fences to keep walking traffic on the primary paths – sensible considering how wide the paths are.  Each park we have visited seems to have a functioning carousel with carousel operator along with sand boxes and swings for the kids.  The parks are home to several sculptures and significant monuments. In Paris, I give almost all sculptures the benefit of the doubt of being fine art and a part of history. In the U.S., I put most sculptures in the category of lawn art a la those homes you see in the country with dozens of concrete gnomes and angels dotting the yard.  My biases run wild!  Most parks have a few concession buildings and of course, the highlight of Charlie’s Paris trip, PIGEONS! 

One last note about parks and my biases. Several times in parks I have encountered a 60-70 year old man and woman together both wearing more clothes than the weather warrants (think cardigan for the woman and Members Only jacket for the man). Each time I find myself wanting them to pass me a secret spy message or a brief statement in a stately British accent.  I cannot explain this but the feeling that these parks are laden with elderly spy couples has haunted me on more than one occasion.  Oh Hollywood, your influence runs deep. 

Here’s a view into our day, a day my kids will refer to as our own special “death march.”  I swear I didn’t know it was almost 6 miles from our apartment to our final destination, Pompidou Centre. I blame the metric system. 

The Parc Monceau entrance and two best friends. I will never tire of seeing Stewart reach for Will’s hand.   
 Lunch is done – Charlie’s salami pickle sandwich and the shared Pain Amondine (almond pastry) were the highlights. Note: most sandwiches from a Boulanger are served with butter instead of mayo, mustard, etc.  Now, if only we had exact change…

  Rock hopping. Sometimes the simplest things can entertain. Who knew something without a screen could be so fun.   

 Time for a pre-death march frisbee break. 

The forced march begins. Ironically, the first thing we see is the Metro. 

A big impressive old church (Eglise Saint Augustin). A relatively young (1868) church taking influence from both Roman and Gothic elements.  Napoleon commissioned it to bring prominence to Malersherbes Blvd and to be the resting place of Napoleon prior to his exile.  Thanks Wikipedia. 

L’eglise de la Madeleine or more simply La Madeleine. This Roman Catholic Church was designed as a temple to the glory of Napoleon’s army and completed in 1842. 

 Two clear signs of me entering into ice cream indebtedness…I bought time with a bench, an apple and a leftover sandwich from the depths of my backpack. It didn’t hurt to have a view of live coverage of the Tour de France from inside the neighboring bar. 

Ahhhh, the power of gelato!  It needs to be said that Nutella gelato may be the best flavor on this great planet. Important discovery Will. 

 A sign we are nearing the quirky Pompidou Centre.  Art whimsy. 

Pompidou Centre water fountain art thing (aka Fontaine Stravinsky). The museum was pretty cool on the outside with all parts of a typical building on the exo-structure to keep the focus on the art inside. Escalators, air ducts, water pipes all on the outside. So were the artisans and street performers.  

Metros from 5-7pm are to be avoided at all costs and for the most part we have succeeded in doing so on this trip. Not so much today. A cacophony of sounds and oh those smells. Just when you think it is full, 10-12 more folks shove into the car stop after stop. Smells are directly proportional to the volume of humans. Theorem proven on this Metro ride. 

Stewart and Charlie are not amused. This the first photographic evidence that Stewart actually does worry. My thought:  The walk doesn’t seem so bad now does it?  Life returned to good when we arrived at Fuxie, the place of the kids new favorite meal, pesto gnocchi and even more so when Cindy met us a bit later straight from work. 

Things I learned today:

1. I fancy a good spy encounter. 

2. Never start a conversation with a local dry cleaner with “do you speak English?”  It leads to a 30 Euro dry cleaning bill for 3 women’s garments and little ability to argue when you realize she conveniently knows no English. 

3. The air on subways improves with height. Poor kids at armpit levels…

4. Gelato/Ice cream is the currency of effort while on vacation. 

Tomorrow:  Sacre Couer

Oh No You Didn’t!

Oh No You Didn’t!

Paris, France I cut you quite a bit of slack because of your rich history, well-planned city, love of art and architecture and your love of the bicycle. For these great qualities I look the other way at your lack of ice, your scoffs when I butcher your language and the wild array of smells you provide me each day. I even look the other way when your citizens ride their bikes against traffic with no helmet on, for your dogs pooping/peeing all over the sidewalk and for your vast array of muffler noises that emit from these not-motorcycles at all hours of the day and drone out all other sounds (seriously, you frown at and police ticket horn honkers but the screeching, wailing sound coming from your mopeds is somehow ok?).  BUT, when you start mimicking behaviors of our less-than-stellar U.S. state of Ohio, well, mon ami, I draw the line!

On our third stop of the day we visited Europe’s largest science museum, the Cite des Sciences & de l’Industry and not five minutes in the door and I’m watching your claim to the first flight. Oh. No. You. Didn’t. In short, you said you beat the Wright Brothers but just didn’t take a photo to prove it. Really?  Napoleon couldn’t even have put you up to this.  Then, a few minutes later I notice you are claiming you would be doing more for Climate Change if it weren’t for the difficulties presented by competing interests in the international community. While I understand those politics are hard and ever-challenging to the global climate crisis, there’s no need to flash a picture of the US flag and the Capitol building while making this claim, now is there?  Need I remind you why your country isn’t currently named Germany?  A little respect please, and while you are at it, how about some ice cubes every once in a while too. 

In all seriousness, we had a day where we were reminded of the incredible cultural diversity here (there seems to be no majority or minority race – pretty far from our race challenges). We traveled from one diverse community to the next and watched new and glamorous shopping centers blend in with old, dated condo towers. We saw an orphanage situated next to several posh cafes with Aston Martins and Porsches parked along the street. We saw metro cars with new parents, blue collar workers and 80+ year old grandmothers out to do their shopping.  One place where there was no diversity was the movie theatre at 10:30am this morning. I took the kids to see Les Minions VO (version originale or the english version) and we were the only 4 people in the movie. Ironically I selected reserved seats.  Hence, the explanation why I am using a cell phone camera in the theatre, something I typically loathe at movies.  English movies means very low attendance. The French version at near the same time was sold out with summer camps and daycare attendees. Winner, winner, chicken dinner!

Here are just a few pics from our kid-focused day. 

Movie selfie!  We owned les cinemas Gaumont Pathe!
Funny to see the French subtitles.   
Stewart is literally on the edge of her seat for even the out takes.   

I’m not sure why, but I found taking pictures in the movies slightly fun. 
The kids enjoying some downtime in a fountain that shot random streams of water. 

An oddly goofy, yet satisfying photo booth thing at the science museum. 
Stewart pulled this look off better than me. 
Charlie  excited to go “to work like Daddy.”

Charlie spends a lot of his time making the “um-chit, um-chit, um-chit” sound (a la dance club) with this DJ-like pose. It happens more often with big headphones like this on. I’m not sure where it came from but it cracks me up every time. 

 An experiment to see what is the right amount of water to fill in the rocket taking into consideration weight, thrust and propulsion. The French science museums seemed to place much more emphasis on problem solving and public polling (for data collection) than we do in the states. Some of their “games” were complex and many were multi-player requiring teamwork to solve. Seems like a better learning experience but maybe a bit less fun. Different strokes for different folks, eh?

Today was fun to watch the people live their lives but I’ll admit, we are one tired family.  Tomorrow I think I’ll audible the plan down to simpler with a fun breakfast of crepes followed by some time hanging in one of the two large local parks and then downtime back in the apartment before meeting up with Cindy after her work.  I might have a mutiny on my hands if I push these kids into another museum or tour and I need to protect my Sunday plan to see the Tour de France at all costs.