Is that a Marais or am I Wrong

A day of almost going to monuments

 

The Arc of Triumph

Buskers

Marais - perfect falafel and mega meringues

Pompidou and bubbles

A stop at Victor's house

 

 

The Arc De Triomphe

Started the day at the Palce De Concorde (all the planes must have been in for service - none there at all). We walked up to the Arc De Triomphe but didn't go under the mega roundabout (look kids, Big Ben, parliament) to climb to the top.

Drew told me the Arc reminded him of the arch in Rome. Zoe asked if he meant Titus' arch or Constantines. Ahhhh thousands of dollars of Europe trip and they did learn something. Tis true that learning is easy and remembering is hard, so maybe judgement should be held?

Arranged for an obligatory family and then group photo and soon after was asked by a Japanese guy if I would like my photo taken to be in a video game where you get electronic darts thrown at you. I declined.

 

 

 

Onto the subway again. It should be noted that there are some damn fine buskers around. We had a jazz duo on our train that had most of the train rocking along although one passenger was quite annoyed as he wanted to sleep.

We kept on seeing these guys as well.

 

 

 

Hooded busker dudes

 

 

 

Drew and I also watched a small orchestra perform in the Bastille stop. They were very good and much better than this video suggests.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Next stop "The Marais" for what the guidebooks tell us are the best Falafels in the world. Emily in particular has been very excited about this. How this accolade is decided and bestowed is beyond me, but in a place with a lot of falafel stores, this one had the lines - and this was at Parisian Breakfast time. By the time we left the line was getting big.

 

 

 

 

 

 

As a sceptical guy, I can only say that the Falafels were exceptional. The question of how good a falafel can actually be when comapared with say, a chocoloate mousse is a valid one, but for the sake of this blog, I shall only compare like with like and agree, as did we all, that we ate a damn fine ball of fried chickpeas.

 

 

 

Ok, so we ordered from the English menu

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Walking along past the Jewish bakeries with signs in the two languages of Yiddish and French, Drew spotted a prize worthy of photographic memory. The Marias Meringue.

Of course the old joke came out - Irish accent - "Is that a cake in the window or a Meringue", " No you're right".

SImilar in style is the great Swedish "Not The Nine O'CLock news Deodorant ad. Weren't they so young.

 

 

Marais monster marengue

 

 

 

 

We strolled to the Pompidou Centre, but big lines and realtively tired smaller children meant that we checked out the building (pipes are on the outside), then sat for a while near what I call Pompadou Pond.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The hooded dudes photobombing again

 

 

 

The kids headed off to watch a busker with mega bubbles and had a fantastic time. Paris Shmaris in one sense. They could have been anywhere in the world, the bubbles were the thing. Guess its sometimes that way with kids - the old box is more fun than the present thing. Hopefully they imbibe a little of what they are seeing and what is happening around them as they jump for bubbles, swing on swings and paly in playgrounds.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We decided to split up for the afternoon as Zoe wanted to get a haircut and the boys, although riveted by the idea of getting to watch, decided to have some man time.

We walked and chatted about video games various (Minecraft, Kingdom Rush, P vs. Z etc etc etc etc etc)with some searching questions from Drew just to make sure I had been listening to every word. We strolled past the Place De Voges and popped in to Victor Hugo's house (or the house that was once the house of Victor Hugo). Try doing that in a walk around Yokine Reserve - the house that was once the house of ex-shire president Terry Tyzack doesn't have quite the same gravitas.

 

 

 

Vic's place (even has his name in the window)

 

 

 

Bye bye Virginians

Two weeks flew by. Nice for the kids to have kid company of high quality and ditto for the adults. There were tears post Parisian Indian goodbye meal and Drew found himself the attention of 4yr old Tildas bereft final emotional goodbye which seemed to work for him.

 

 

 

8 + 4 = 12. Kissy kissy

 

 

Enough