american-english

I woke up feeling infinitely better than yesterday so we decided to catch one of the ubiquitous boat tours from Pont Neuf. On a cold day in Paris, the vendrettes are understandably deserted but we still managed to fork over about 11€ per person. I made sure to sit in the front row which was close to both the heater and the charming tour guide (Eric, why haven't you called!?). We puttered valiantly up and down the Seine and saw more Parisian landmarks than I expected to. Who knew everything was curiously packed onto those banks? I suppose I would have if I had bothered to look at a map up to that point. I've never been one for spending time standing in front of monuments, snapping photos and pointing, so a quick look and a bit of history was perfect for me. 

I couldn't help, however, freaking out ever so slightly when we rolled up to the Eiffel Tower. It is one of the effects of being iconic: you've seen it a million times. That in mind, I assumed I'd take it in with the proper measure of polite awe but when it broke through the (considerable) fog, I think I genuinely and truly lost my shit. No attempt at decorum or the elegant cool I thought I'd somehow catch upon my arrival in the city. Many pictures were taken, many ooohs and ahhhs and various exclamations were made, maybe even a squeal or two. Sue me, I'm small-town. 

When the vendrette dropped us off, we realized we were less than a block from the Lourve, which I had originally intended to pass up. I can't even remember the reason why I thought I'd want to give it a miss but I'm certainly glad I didn't. Although I only saw the smallest portion of the museum (naturally I made a beeline for the Etruscan, Roman, and Greek collections), I think it is probably one of the best places I have ever been in my life. Every corner is a treasure trove. I took some illicit photos including some of my favorites, the Italian Renaissance masters. They may be ridiculously dramatic but how I love them.