You Can’t Gag in Front of the French

We started our day the same way as yesterday with breakfast at Boe & Mie. My French failed me and I somehow did the order wrong. Isla was missing her croissant. Kayden confidently got up and went inside to place and order for his sister's missing breakfast. We watched through the glass window as he lined up and placed his order. He was even able to respond with if he was paying with cash or card. He said coins! Or whatever the word was for that. Thank you year 8 French!! We tried to act all nonchalant when he got back to the table. Mike and I were super proud.

This morning we were making our way to Saint Chapelle which is a famous church known for its stained glass windows. It’s the French royal church. I

think! We thought we had to wear clothes that covered our shoulders and knees. Isla took this very seriously and insisted she wear her zip up jumper right up to her chin. We assured her she did not have to wear it as we walked there but there was no way she was taking the chance of getting called out on it. Such a rule follower!

The church was beautiful, however it was lost on the children (and Mike). They were ready to go to the Louvre. We walked along the River Seine and Isla chose some artwork with a little French rat from the movie Ratatouille in it. Her friends at home share a little joke and stories about a rat called Mr Rat and she had brought a little rat toy with her on our adventure. Mr Rat goes to Paris. We were all excited for her as she purchased her art from the vendor and as quiet as a mouse (or rat) she said “mercy”. Baby steps!

Paris is hot and walking is plentiful. We are are clocking up 25,000 steps a day. It is actually too much for the kids. But what do you do? The metro is crazy and really hot and it’s just easier to walk. Every walk is beautiful and I keep wanting to stop and take videos. I find myself humming French tunes in the background of all the videos. Oops.

We arrived at the Louvre and I had told everyone that on the Facebook Paris group that I was part of, I had discovered a secret entrance. Well, so had everyone else! The lines were insanely long. It was better than being outside

lining up in the sun I guess. To kill the time while we were waiting, the kids and I went to Lauderee which is famous for macarons. We picked out vanilla, rasberry, passionfruit and pistachio. I would say passionfruit and vanilla were my favourites.

The Louvre itself was heaving with visitors. It was so hot in there and hard to move through as a group. I was shocked to see French school groups going through on excursions. Those poor teachers. Obviously the Rossi kids were there to see the Mona Lisa. Mike and I were not keen at all to see the overrated art, however we understood it was important to the kids. So we along with thousands of others moved through the buildings on our way to see her. We commented it was like scenes from The Walking Dead with herds of tourist groups replacing the zombies. They came in waves and had no reservations to barge past anyone in their way.

After the Mona Lisa, Mike was keen to see the Egyptian exhibits. We thought that this would be really interesting to the kids. Wrong. Well sort of. Max was

the one we thought would enjoy it but he was done. He was absolutely spent. He was practically crawling from hall to hall looking for couches to lay on and air conditioning vents to stand above.

It turned out that Isla and Kayden were keen to visit the areas with Mike and they spent quite a bit of time looking at the artefacts and discussing them. Much to Max’s dismay.

After our visit to the museum we went to Jardin De Tuileries for a picnic lunch on the lawns in the shade. It is amazing what a bit of lunch can do to lift spirits. We purchased some 1 euro water off street vendors that was icy cold and carried on our way through the beautiful gardens. We planned to hire some toy sail boats to play in the water fountain but couldn’t see any.

We decided to call it a day and walk back to the accomodation with Max leading the way with Google Maps. We bypassed a beautiful homewares store where I raced in and purchased a French linen apron and cheese knife as souvenirs. The walk back to our apartment was beautiful. We passed through city parks and playgrounds where the kids stopped for a play and I filled up water bottles from a public fountain that even had sparkling water as an option. Only in Paris! There was water misting fountains that the kids enjoyed running in with Mike shouting behind them not to ingest any water.

The cafes are often decorated beautifully with flowers and vines growing around the entrance. I made a habit of stopping to take photos. Mike simply rolls his eyes when I do this. I just want to capture it all and soak it all in. I can’t

believe we are finally here.

Back at the apartment we showered to get the clammy sweat off and rest/recharge. Mike and I leave the kids in the apartment and cross the street to a sweet little supermarket. I take my time perusing the shelves and fridges. I snoop in French ladies shopping baskets and get out my Google Translate camera which immediately translates languages for you. I’m happy as a pig in mud. I pick up some fruits I have never seen, some French butter, a baguette (hello photo op), some fresh orange juice and chocolate biscuits for our train journey tomorrow.

For dinner on our last night we had work to do! We had to walk 15 minute to a little neighbourhood called Temple. I felt a little guilty as it was on my list to do and nobody wanted to walk. We clocked up 27,000 steps this day. And I was asking them to push a little more so we could visit a popular bouillon restaurant. Google tells us: bouillon is a traditional restaurant that serves traditional cuisine. I wanted nothing less than a 4.6 Google rated restaurant

for my darling ungrateful children. Gah! You can guess what transpired. The menu was tricky. Obviously. I am one of those people that sits in a restaurant and looks through what Mike will eat, then what the kids will eat and finally what I will eat. Mike was happy - steak and frites, Kayden and Isla went with fish and chips….mmmmm not very French but whatever. Max ordered French onion soup (fave child at the time). I ordered escargot for the table and some pate and gherkins.

The people we were seated next to were older couples who were French and they tried their best to converse with us. They spoke French, we spoke English. They were eagerly waiting to see what we ordered. I felt like a cliche having the escargot. But hey props to me booking restaurants where actual locals eat! Anyway the snails come with a set of circular tongs. You hold the buttery snail in the tongs then use a tooth pick sort of tool to get the little suckers out. I had visions of the snail shell flying through the restaurant at any moment. I couldn’t use the silly thing, it was slippery and I avoided making eye contact with our new French friends. I knew they were enjoying the show and chatting in French to each other! I had to drop tools and use my hands. Meanwhile the kids begin. OOOOOOO it looks like snot, it looks like poo, look at that moodie (a word Isla made up that stuck with the family. She always makes up words. Quirky kid. Moodie means weird, yucky, squishy) bit. They start to rev each other up on how they are going to do it. How they plan to tackle the beast that is a slimy green snail. Mike and I go first, we have to show them it can be done. It is not bad, it is also not great. Thank goodness I’ve been prepping the kids with pesto dinners the last few months as this is what it was covered in. Eldest went first. He gags easily. I gave him the mum stare and Mike and I begin our 101th rule for the day. We said DO NOT gag. DO NOT spit it out. You have to get it down. You cannot gag in front of the French people!!! It’s their specialty! The kid did well. Even with Max in his ear about it looking like a poo bag. What even is a poo bag? "No it’s a ballsack!" Brothers! The other two also got them down the hatch and said it was ok. Kayden even went back for more.

When dinner came out we all started to fade a little. Especially poor Max who was falling asleep at the table. His French onion soup was not what he was picturing. It was obviously a very oniony soup and then had a soggy piece of cheese toast on top. Naturally, I had to finish it for him. And then he began to fall asleep before we had the chance to eat dessert. Literally asleep. I threw in the towel. Let’s go home. As we walked home through sweet neighbourhoods it was magic. Well if I fall behind a few metres from the rest of the group, I can feel the magic haha. The local people had come out and were doing their thang, which is just so Parisian and wonderful to watch. Local community groups getting together for classes, kids playing soccer together, friends meeting each other in the street. I was there for it. I soaked it up and I resigned to the fact that we came for the escargot this evening, we ate it and made a core memory. Even if we didn’t all enjoy the bouillon cuisine. We didn’t gag and the French guests next to us even bid us "au revoir". We did well. Farewell Paris. You were magnifique.