Our second morning, I apologized to Bryan for the state of my uterus, and we prayed before embarking on our next adventure. I know we prayed for energy and stamina to walk all of Paris. I also remember there being strong undertones throughout our prayers of, "God please help Fran to not turn into an emotional psychopath today."
In case it has not already been established, I did not pack well for this trip. Thankfully, I wore my flight attendant coat that any given moment makes me look like a nazi or a flasher. It's a warm coat, though. It's also worth noting that I wore my fur scarf that looks like I wrapped a cat around my neck. (Don't forget my Toms with Bryan's athletic socks). That whole outfit I just described almost makes my butterfly clips seem cool again.
We spent a couple of hours in the Louvre, and started our journey to the Eiffel Tower and the other free museums.
It was a cold and windy walk to the Eiffel Tower, and along the way I learned about Golfiño. THE HANDSOME SIAMOIS THAT IS MISSING. Go home, Golfiño!
Once we got to the Eiffel Tower we decided that it was way too expensive for us to ascend to the top, and it was cheaper and more delicious to just eat French fries instead. We wanted to stay true to the stereotypical American tourism that was so evidently coursing through our veins and displayed by our clothes.
We journeyed on to Musée Rodin, got espresso at one point, and eventually made it to Musée d'Orsay before free museum day came to a close.
As the sun vanished we sat in a dim cafe and ate more baguettes and drank more espresso. We were thankful to have a rain-free walk back to our hotel, where we eagerly jumped at the chance to run up our six flights of stairs. Bryan made fun of me because I thought it was a good idea every night to sprint up the six flights. I use the term 'sprint' very loosely, because by the time I reached the middle of the third flight, bystanders may have thought me to be trying to run through invisible cement. SLOW MOTION. SO MANY STAIRS.
We never adjusted to the time in Paris. That second night I woke up at 2:30 in the morning, and immediately sensed Beyonce. I whispered, "Bryan. I think the Superbowl is on right now." We turned on the small television and sure enough, the halftime show was on. MY BODY SENSES THE PRESENCE OF BEYONCE IN ALL TIME ZONES. It kind of seemed like an episode of The Twilight Zone, because the announcers only spoke French and the crowd's cheering was muted. Right as the lights went out after her performance, I started feverishly googling whether or not she was a part of The Illuminati and then I was really anxious and we decided to try and sleep again.
Our last day was my favorite day. We bought metro tickets (praise the Lord, oh my soul) and made our way up to Montmartre. We walked up the stairs to Basilique du Sacré Cœur and it just made my heart sing. We both loved going in the different cathedrals, and this seemed the most fitting to finish with. I love seeing the effort and detail and care that goes into making a holy place beautiful as an offering to God.
I need to finish this re-telling of our Paris adventure well. A final installment to come! Complete with Moulin Rouge and flying home first class.
But first, please tell me something embarrassing you've done as a tourist.