kenny's parisian adventure - day 2: le vampire
Tuesday, May 6, 2008 – Paris
I woke up Tuesday morning at 9am. And then at 10am. And again at 11am. Just as I was about to set the internal clock for “noon,” I decided it might be a good idea to get up and not waste our first real day in town. While Overboard and Kenny continued to snooze peacefully, I showered and went downstairs to grab some breakfast from the kitchen.
Armed with a tray full of croissants, baguettes, jam, juice, milk and coffee, I went back up and lured my family from their slumber with tasty French breakfast items. Success!
Kenny devours some yummy French bread and "confiture" with American gusto.
We managed to roll out of the hotel around noon and set off to wander the city with only the slightest hint of a game plan.
From the hotel, which is located in the 16th arrondissement, we wandered over towards Trocadero, the plaza and museum campus across the Seine from the Eiffel Tower. Along the way we spotted a small playground, which was the perfect place to let Kenny get out some energy and test his theories of the joy factor differential between French vs. American slides. Luckily for international relations, it was a draw.
Vive les playgrounds!
Once properly pooped out, Kenny was snapped back into the stroller with his ever-present sippy cup, and we rolled up towards the Trocadero plaza. In between ducking African tchoke dealers, we snapped the prerequisite pix of everyone in front of the Eiffel Tower and then made our way towards the Arc de Triomphe.
"Nice arch ya got here."
Along the way, we learned that Kenny was what the French call “le vampire.” Even though he had his own stylish pair of sunglasses, Kenny refused to wear them. He also refused not to scream in agony when the sun dared shine it’s evil, evil rays upon his face. This caused much stress for les parents, and necessitated strolling on the non-sunny side of the street as much as possible, even when said street was the famous Champs-Elysées.
"Look, Daddy! Tourists!"
Along the way, we tried ducking into two photo stores to get the pix for the Carte Oranges, but at the first shop, the one guy working was in no hurry to help, and at the second, Kenny was in no hurry to stop fussing at top volume.
To try and get Kenny out of the sun, and to find a place to eat, we ducked off of the Champs-Elysées, but ended up in a fashion district. This was problematic, since fashion people don’t eat, and there were no restaurants of any kind to be found. Eventually, after some genial arguments between Overboard and myself, we crossed the Seine to the other bank and found a café that would serve our purposes. It didn’t have high chairs, but it did have a rugby theme, so there was plenty for Kenny to look at.
Unfortunately, while the bar staff was quite welcoming, the kitchen staff’s creations left a bit to be desired. If you can’t count on random Parisian café food to be excellent, what can you count on in this world? C’mon!
After a less than stellar meal, we rolled back onto the street and let Kenny push his stroller a bit. This went well until he decided that he wasn’t touching the wheels of the stroller nearly enough. This touchy-feely session was followed by a thorough “Purell those dirty fingers” session that wasn’t quite as popular with Mr. K. However, after we strapped him back in and took over the stroller directional duties, he graciously decided to pass out for a bit.
Overboard just loooooves to clean dirty fingers.
Paris is exhausting.
Overboard and I took advantage of the sleeping vampire to roll our way back to the Champ de Mars, by the Eiffel Tower. While Overboard searched out some ice cream, Kenny woke up after a 30 minute repose, and then proceeded to romp around the grass after a quick (but scenic!) diaper change in the shadow of the Tower.
"So this thing is pretty popular, huh? Looks like a big Erector set to me."
We figured that it was as good a time as any to take a ride on the famous Bateaux Mouches along the Seine, and went down to check out our options. Completely ignoring the tour boats further down on the left or right, I investigated the ones closest to me. These turned out to be “Batobus” water taxis, as opposed to the sightseeing boats we were seeking. Sensing that Kenny wasn’t really up for being stuck on a boat for an hour, we passed on the water angle and instead made our way back across the street to the Trocadero playground for a return visit.
This time around, there were tons of kids scampering around, which Kenny found to be quite interesting. Since he speaks the international language of “play” he had no problems communicating with his young French comrades about how cool slides are, no matter what country you’re in.
"Wheeeee!" said Kenny, in several languages.
It took some convincing, but we managed to get Kenny back into the stroller and made our way to the hotel, completing our big loop for the day.
After a round of showers, we met up with Michelle and went out looking for Chinese takeout to take back to her place for dinner. She led us a few blocks away to an incredible alley that was closed to traffic and filled with various restaurants, shops, markets and stores.
Dog Parking! I love these people.
After loading up on a few Chinese dishes, we swung by another market around the corner where Michelle gets her fruits, meats and other sundries. In her Gallic Godfather way, she instructed her fruit guys not to charge us if we ever came by looking for anything. I told her that if she kept this up we’d never leave, but I think it might have only encouraged her.
Once again, we tried to get the pix for the Carte Oranges (this time at the post office), but the photo booth there was broken. This search for instant pix had become a bit of quest. One we were not succeeding at.
At Michelle’s, Kenny insisted on a few more rounds of “Flip Kenny onto the Chair While He Laughs Manically” before digging into dinner. Afterwards, he managed to break a kitchen magnet on Michelle’s fridge and one of her lamps. So, all in all, a successful evening out for the boy.
"What happened? I think I blacked out there."
Michelle also introduced Kenny to a rabbit puppet she had and a variation on the song “Le Cerf et Le Lapin” (The Deer and the Rabbit), a French nursery rhyme. To his delight, she would nuzzle him with the rabbit and sing, “Ce matin, un lapin est venu chez moi” (“this morning, a rabbit came to my house”). This would become a highly requested song over the next few days. And by request, I mean demand. But in a cute way…most of the time.
Kenny meets his new ami, le lapin.
We got back to the hotel, gave Kenny a bath, and managed to get him (and ourselves) into bed
around 9:45pm. Early, by French vacation standards!
I woke up Tuesday morning at 9am. And then at 10am. And again at 11am. Just as I was about to set the internal clock for “noon,” I decided it might be a good idea to get up and not waste our first real day in town. While Overboard and Kenny continued to snooze peacefully, I showered and went downstairs to grab some breakfast from the kitchen.
Armed with a tray full of croissants, baguettes, jam, juice, milk and coffee, I went back up and lured my family from their slumber with tasty French breakfast items. Success!
Kenny devours some yummy French bread and "confiture" with American gusto.
We managed to roll out of the hotel around noon and set off to wander the city with only the slightest hint of a game plan.
From the hotel, which is located in the 16th arrondissement, we wandered over towards Trocadero, the plaza and museum campus across the Seine from the Eiffel Tower. Along the way we spotted a small playground, which was the perfect place to let Kenny get out some energy and test his theories of the joy factor differential between French vs. American slides. Luckily for international relations, it was a draw.
Vive les playgrounds!
Once properly pooped out, Kenny was snapped back into the stroller with his ever-present sippy cup, and we rolled up towards the Trocadero plaza. In between ducking African tchoke dealers, we snapped the prerequisite pix of everyone in front of the Eiffel Tower and then made our way towards the Arc de Triomphe.
"Nice arch ya got here."
Along the way, we learned that Kenny was what the French call “le vampire.” Even though he had his own stylish pair of sunglasses, Kenny refused to wear them. He also refused not to scream in agony when the sun dared shine it’s evil, evil rays upon his face. This caused much stress for les parents, and necessitated strolling on the non-sunny side of the street as much as possible, even when said street was the famous Champs-Elysées.
"Look, Daddy! Tourists!"
Along the way, we tried ducking into two photo stores to get the pix for the Carte Oranges, but at the first shop, the one guy working was in no hurry to help, and at the second, Kenny was in no hurry to stop fussing at top volume.
To try and get Kenny out of the sun, and to find a place to eat, we ducked off of the Champs-Elysées, but ended up in a fashion district. This was problematic, since fashion people don’t eat, and there were no restaurants of any kind to be found. Eventually, after some genial arguments between Overboard and myself, we crossed the Seine to the other bank and found a café that would serve our purposes. It didn’t have high chairs, but it did have a rugby theme, so there was plenty for Kenny to look at.
Unfortunately, while the bar staff was quite welcoming, the kitchen staff’s creations left a bit to be desired. If you can’t count on random Parisian café food to be excellent, what can you count on in this world? C’mon!
After a less than stellar meal, we rolled back onto the street and let Kenny push his stroller a bit. This went well until he decided that he wasn’t touching the wheels of the stroller nearly enough. This touchy-feely session was followed by a thorough “Purell those dirty fingers” session that wasn’t quite as popular with Mr. K. However, after we strapped him back in and took over the stroller directional duties, he graciously decided to pass out for a bit.
Overboard just loooooves to clean dirty fingers.
Paris is exhausting.
Overboard and I took advantage of the sleeping vampire to roll our way back to the Champ de Mars, by the Eiffel Tower. While Overboard searched out some ice cream, Kenny woke up after a 30 minute repose, and then proceeded to romp around the grass after a quick (but scenic!) diaper change in the shadow of the Tower.
"So this thing is pretty popular, huh? Looks like a big Erector set to me."
We figured that it was as good a time as any to take a ride on the famous Bateaux Mouches along the Seine, and went down to check out our options. Completely ignoring the tour boats further down on the left or right, I investigated the ones closest to me. These turned out to be “Batobus” water taxis, as opposed to the sightseeing boats we were seeking. Sensing that Kenny wasn’t really up for being stuck on a boat for an hour, we passed on the water angle and instead made our way back across the street to the Trocadero playground for a return visit.
This time around, there were tons of kids scampering around, which Kenny found to be quite interesting. Since he speaks the international language of “play” he had no problems communicating with his young French comrades about how cool slides are, no matter what country you’re in.
"Wheeeee!" said Kenny, in several languages.
It took some convincing, but we managed to get Kenny back into the stroller and made our way to the hotel, completing our big loop for the day.
After a round of showers, we met up with Michelle and went out looking for Chinese takeout to take back to her place for dinner. She led us a few blocks away to an incredible alley that was closed to traffic and filled with various restaurants, shops, markets and stores.
Dog Parking! I love these people.
After loading up on a few Chinese dishes, we swung by another market around the corner where Michelle gets her fruits, meats and other sundries. In her Gallic Godfather way, she instructed her fruit guys not to charge us if we ever came by looking for anything. I told her that if she kept this up we’d never leave, but I think it might have only encouraged her.
Once again, we tried to get the pix for the Carte Oranges (this time at the post office), but the photo booth there was broken. This search for instant pix had become a bit of quest. One we were not succeeding at.
At Michelle’s, Kenny insisted on a few more rounds of “Flip Kenny onto the Chair While He Laughs Manically” before digging into dinner. Afterwards, he managed to break a kitchen magnet on Michelle’s fridge and one of her lamps. So, all in all, a successful evening out for the boy.
"What happened? I think I blacked out there."
Michelle also introduced Kenny to a rabbit puppet she had and a variation on the song “Le Cerf et Le Lapin” (The Deer and the Rabbit), a French nursery rhyme. To his delight, she would nuzzle him with the rabbit and sing, “Ce matin, un lapin est venu chez moi” (“this morning, a rabbit came to my house”). This would become a highly requested song over the next few days. And by request, I mean demand. But in a cute way…most of the time.
Kenny meets his new ami, le lapin.
We got back to the hotel, gave Kenny a bath, and managed to get him (and ourselves) into bed
around 9:45pm. Early, by French vacation standards!
posted by Dr. Overboard and Prof. Evenkeel at 8:30 AM
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