Europe

                                                Saturday, March 30, 2012:
  I awake to a sudden harsh artificial light and stretch sleep from my contorted body. I'm in an airplane seat, my home for the past 8 hours, and breakfast is being served. I look to my left and see my son Alex also coming awake and out of his airplane blanket cocoon. I eat my egg muffin and banana with measured enthusiasm as I begin to wonder if this flight will ever end. Then I glance again toward Alex, just as Mr. Isham (Alex's French teacher) brings his attention to the same magnificent sight I now behold, The Alps. We are not near the window but that does not seem to diminish the grandeur of the sight. Peak after peak of snow covered mountains, tipped with the morning light of dawn. Now, I'm excited!
  We arrive in Milan, Italy amid sunshine and blue sky. Disembarking the old fashioned way, down stairs, we take a bus to the terminal and I get my first stamp in my passport. I didn't expect this to thrill me so much, but it does. Alex and I are touring with a group of students and parents from his school as well as a couple other schools from the US. Our tour guide's name is Muris and he helps us onto a huge tour bus where we meet a man of extraordinary talents, our bus driver Lidio. I'm quickly amazed at his ability to get this bus into and out of tiny places.

European Coke is slimmer, like Europeans

   We have some time to wait for the last group's plane to arrive and thankfully Muris has decided to take us to a nearby lake instead of sit at the airport. Now I get a view of the "pre-Alps", as Muris describes them. It reminds me of Utah, snow topped mountains rising up from the valley below. Lake Maggiore does not look like much of a lake from where we stop to look around, but it is the second largest lake in Italy. We are simply at the end and cannot see the rest.
  The little town by the shore is exactly as I imagined a little town in Italy should be. Cobbled walkways, tall buildings with shuttered windows and iron balconies, shops along the bottoms of these buildings. We don't have much time but enjoy some pictures by the lake and a Coke.

The Arena

Alex and Gavin (fellow student) eating gelato

 After picking up our last group, we are off to Verona. Oh, fair Verona! It is fair indeed. The main square is full of people and sits in front of "The Arena", which is a mini version of the Colosseum. Built and used for the same purpose as the Colosseum, I'm happy to hear that it is now used for opera performances. We walk down the marble paved main street, which is tiny and lined with high class shops. Lunch is calling so we stop at a pizzeria where we sit outside to enjoy the beautiful weather with our margarita pizza. I'm fond of the Italian way of eating, take your time while you have good food & conversation, but we do not have time for that tradition today. However, as we hurry back to the bus, I have to stop for my first taste of gelato. It is incredibly smooth and lives up to everything I've heard about it, definitely worth being late.
  Vineyards, when I hear that word I get a picture in my head of rolling hills filled with rows of vines and an Italian house sitting in the distance. This is the view out my window for miles. I have intentions of staying awake to see these sights we pass on our two hour drive to the coast, but my jet lagged brain cannot hold out and I sleep.

 Relief is the overwhelming feeling I have as we pull up to our hotel. It has the smallest elevator I've ever seen and a few ants, but a view of the sea and a delicious dinner of pesto pasta, chicken and mushrooms, and tiramisu ,which I gave to Mr. Isham & Gavin to finished after a few bites. I know, most of you just gave a horrified gasp that I would give away my tiramisu. Although it was one of the best I've tasted, I still just don't care for it. Sorry.
  Sleep comes quickly after a hot shower and talking with Alex for a bit. We have an early morning and full day ahead of us. I drift off with visions of canal streets and gondolas, tomorrow I see Veince.

                                                

 Sunday, April 1, 2012:
  Morning is not my favorite time of day. When I look out my window to see a blustery chilly scene, it does not help. Alex and I gather our things and head down to breakfast which is a choice of cereal, granola, yogurt, rolls, & biscotti. I enjoy the roll and jam the most but I don't think Alex enjoyed the cereal, which is like corn flakes. Not enough sugar I suspect. I have time to come out of my morning funk while riding to the shore where we board a boat for a rocky ride to the first island destination, Morano. The wind is quite strong so we all hurry into the glass blowing factory we are touring. The glass master has to train for a least ten years and it is fascinating to watch him manipulate the glowing hot glass into a vase and then a horse. As I watch him I think of him growing up here and training from an early age to be a glass master. How different is his life from mine? Details may be very different, but I suspect we have some things in common; love for our families and a desire to enjoy life. The sales pitch after must be effective, I couldn't resist two finely made goblets. Their bulk now takes up way too much room in my suitcase. 

 We board our power impaired boat to slowly make our way to the city of Venice. It is just like a postcard. From my first glimpse I can tell it will live up to every picture I've seen of this place. Unexpectedly, the first thing that impresses me the most comes in the form of a good natured Venetian woman, our local tour guide. As she takes us though the maze of streets that is Venice we hear her tell the story of her city. There is love and pride in her voice mixed with a delightful sense of humor, she is good at her job. Walking through these confusing tiny streets is thrilling, each turn presents you with a stunning new view of something magnificent. Churches, palaces, canals, bridges, and houses which look alike and yet different all at the same time.

St. Mark's, this is all mosaic

As we approach the end of the tour we reach the square of St. Mark. I immediately miss the quiet side streets. This square is grand but also packed with people. The church of St. Mark is like no other church I've seen. It is like a patchwork quilt of marble and mosaic tiles. The mosaic scenes are so detailed it's hard to believe it is thousands of tiny tiles. It is palm Sunday today so people are carrying small palms to service and the church bells ring throughout the city. The sights and sounds evoke a feeling of being in another world, but then there is no other place on earth like Venice.

St. Mark's Square

Prison

 We have some free time for lunch and gelato, of course. We shop a little with Mr. Isham, I love the fashion in Italy. I'm struck by how the men here dress impeccably. Lidio, our bus driver, is dressed better than most American men on a good day. I am impressed with this, I feel it shows a respect for yourself to dress well. I'm not sure if this is why Italian men dress the way the do or if it's just plain vanity.
  The Doches Palace is next and it holds a surprise. While the exterior is simple beauty, white columns with arches, the interior is ornately decorated. Ornate golden molding all over the walls and ceiling separate paintings. It becomes a bit overwhelming as I don't know where to look first. My neck even begins to ache from staring up at all the art. Alex is not impressed, however he becomes alive and we cross over the Bridge of Sighs and enter the prison. The cells are simple stone with rounded ceilings and small wooden doors. The iron bars are incredibly thick. Although there is not much more than this, Alex enjoys walking through each corridor and room. I imagine his mind is busy creating many stories of adventure that may have taken place here. The truth is probably far from that, I imagine a great deal of suffering occurred here. 

   Peaceful moments, sitting on the cement steps that lead to the water, waiting for the boat which will take us away from this uniquely beautiful place. I watch a very young Asian boy play with the pigeons and climb on his father. I miss Dan and the boys so much at this moment that it aches. Trevor would love chasing these pigeons, Nathan would love exploring every tiny alleyway we would let him travel, and Dan... I would love just walking with his hand in mine along the waters edge, I miss him.

                                                Monday, April 2, 2012:
  Traveling to Florance has a bit of familiarity for me. We pass farmers working in their fields, factories, apartments & homes as we travel the motorway. I have seen these same scenes since I was a child traveling with my family and dreaming of being a truck driver, I had a few misconceptions about that career when I was younger. Of course there are differences; the homes seem older, the cars are smaller, and the speed limit signs are round (and in kilometers, of course). We reach a mountain range, the Epinines. Once again there are familiar sights, a river running over rocky sand, slopes covered in trees, an occasional rocky cliff or ridge. However the roadway itself is different than at home. They have crated a highway which does not disturb the landscape. The mountain has not been blasted away and bears little scars as a result of the road. Bridges are used frequently and I can't count the number of tunnels we have gone through. The Italians know how to build roadways, however as Muris points out, it is expensive. I have enjoyed this bit of traveling very much.

Cathedral where Michael Angelo is buried

  Florence is beautiful, but crowded. The architecture ranges from medieval towers and fortresses to baroque churches. You can see the history of the ages within a few blocks of this city. Which also means the buildings are congregating quite close to one another. This is annoying to a photographer who is trying to get a good angle for the whole building. I suppose they didn't have tourists in mind a thousand years ago as they built these masterpieces.
  Florence is known for their fine leather works, so we get a demonstration of how a Florentine leather box is made which is interesting, but I'm anxious to get out and see the city. We have another local tour guide, however I do not enjoy this one as much as the one in Venice. This is not a reflection on our guide, this is a "it's not you, it's me" situation. I don't like the crowds we have to transverse and this is what distracts me, my dad would understand. 

Front of Duomo

It's worth it though, especially when we get to the Duomo. The words "ornate" or "baroque" come to mind but are inadequate. There is not an inch on the front of this church that is not adorned. Add to that the monstrous size and I'm sure I could stare at this for hours and still be finding something I hadn't noticed before. Once I get pass the grandeur of the front, I realize this is the biggest church I've ever seen. The dome in the back towers above the city, Alex and I plan to climb to the top. We wait in the line to climb the dome for a while and realize we don't have time for this today. I'm also feeling my age, this calls for gelato! We each get a cone and sit in the piazza to soak in Florance.

 Dinner tonight is my favorite so far and it has nothing to do with the food, which is still incredible. Muris takes us to "The Prison" restaurant. It comes by its name honestly, it was a prison from about 1500-1982. Muris explains how they repurposed it into shops and apartments. There is a square in the center of the building with trees and benches where we eat outside. As we enter the square, I hear the laughter of children. Four young boys are playing soccer, which appears to be the only sport they recognize here. THIS is the real Florence, two old men chatting away while the children play a rowdy game of soccer. After eating, several high school boys from our group approach the Italian boys to ask if they can play soccer. I sit on a rock bench as the sun sets and I watch international relations. The American boys do not speak Italian, the Italian boys do not speak English, however they all speak soccer.

                                                  Tuesday, April 4, 2012:
  It's morning and I open the shuttered window in my room to see a steady light rain falling on the tiled roof. I'm not discouraged, the rain gives the scene a quiet beauty. Our hotel is incredibly charming. Looks to be turn of the century, yellow with dark green shutters, beautiful garden sitting area in the front.

Climbing

At the top of the dome

Back in Florence Alex and I head to the Duomo. Gavin and Dana, two of Alex's fellow students join us on our trek to the top of Florence. The line is much shorter this morning but it still takes a hour for us to reach the entrance to the church. It is worth every minute we waited. The staircase is small and medieval feeling, like you're going into a dungeon that is upstairs. The stairs just keep coming and coming then just when I think I can't go on we reach a door which opens to a walkway around the base of the inside dome. The painting covering the inside of the dome depicts hell at the base changing to heaven at the top. I'm struck by the detail I can see from this close vantage point. The floor of the cathedral is impossibly far down from here and I'm grateful I'm able to climb the steps and view the craftsmanship of this dome. More stairs! Now we are climbing in a tight spiral following by a tunnel and finally a climb almost straight up to emerge at the top. The view is breathtaking. Florence, surrounded by the rolling hills, is spread out before me. I take pictures and wish I was better at this type of photography. I can't seem to capture the view the way it looks to my eye, but I try! The bells begin to ring, one church answering another, and the moment is amazing.

    

  

We were up there!

Tuscany

It begins to rain again as we leave the city, the weather has been good to us while in Florence. Muris has arranged an extra tour that we have all agreed to pay for, we are going into the Tuscan countryside. It is better than the pictures and movies I've seen. There is not a flat piece of land to be found and each hill is covered with green fields and grape vines, topped with a villa. We end on the top of a hill at the city San Gimignano. The city is walled, walking through the arched entrance I am now in the middle ages. Shops line the narrow street, currently selling souvenirs but it's not hard to imagine a time when medieval merchants traded and sold their goods here. I don't know how much of this all is original, but they have done well making it seem so.

San Gimignano

Muris told us of a torture museum that Alex is excited to visit. I'll be honest, not what I had in mind for a trip in Tuscany, but it brings excitement to his eyes so we pay the admittance fee and enter quiet rooms filled with old iron contraptions next to drawings & explainations of the horror they can inflict. Definitely medieval. Another student, Tiara, has joined us and the most entertaining part of this for me is watching and listening to their horrified yet intrigued reactions to it all. I actually feel a little remorseful that I have to hurry them at the end so I have time to climb to the panoramic viewing above the city.
  For the second time today I am treated to a magnificent view. The countryside is inspiring, tranquil, harmonious, I could go on if I knew more words. I have a deep desire to sit here and drink in the feeling, missing the bus would give me a long time to drink, but I sigh and decide to leave.
  Muris has decided to take us back to the hotel via the scenic route. I knew he was a good man! Taking the scenic route is a tradition in my family, aka taking a "short cut", and usually ends with a longer trip time and better memories. I love the winding small road through little towns, although I wonder how Lidio, our bus driver, feels about it.
   Dinner at the hotel is pasta (of course), pork and potatoes, and a chocolate cream cake. I am enjoying the food here just as much as the sights. Italians eat courses at dinner, I like this idea of taking more time to eat. However, when I think of the amount of work involved to cook it all, I don't think I will be adopting this in my home. I give my immense thanks to the person behind the kitchen door for this great gift of food.








                                                    Wednesday, April 4, 2012:

Baptistry, Cathedral, and Tower in Pisa

On the road again. Immediately following breakfast we load up the bus and head north west. Tonight I will be in France, but we have one more important Italian sight to see, Pisa. I have seen the leaning tower of Pisa hundreds of times in photos and drawings so I know it's leaning, but I'm still struck by the sight of it. It seems impossible, somewhat suspended in mid fall. The unexpected comes from the size and beauty of the cathedral and baptistry which this bell tower was crated for. Following the traditional "I'm holding up the tower" pictures, we tour these other two buildings which were built as the main attraction. The baptistery is simple (compared to the cathedral), a round building topped with a dome. The acoustics inside are amazing. One of the workers there "sings" a few notes and we listen to the sounds echo and blend throughout the open space. The cathedral is spacious and, keeping with the renaissance period, full of art and sculpture. Easter is on Sunday so people are busy decorating and the organ keeps sounding one continuous note after another so I assume they are tuning it. A mummy resides here within a glass casket which is fascinating to see.

Top of the cathedral

   Pisa holds another attraction just outside the walls of the square, a McDonalds! Alex is eager to eat lunch there, as are all the kids. An Italian McDonald's tastes just like an American one, except with less ice in your Coke. They do have a different hamburger which has a huge slice of mozzarella on it, but we go with what we know. Lets have a moment of silence for a meal in Italy that was wasted on McDonald's.

Found this at the Autogrill (convenience store) 

   Driving is the main event for today. We soon reach the coast of the sea, the Italian Riviera. As we travel into and out of tunnels I get glimpses of sea, steep slopes, and little seaside towns. Places I've seen in the US flash through my mind. The houses built on the steep slopes are "San Francisco" with red tiled roofs. The misty rain and low clouds over the dramatic hills feel like the Blue Ridge mountains of Georgia, or even the Great Smoky Mountains (I wonder how different it would look in the sunshine). The dry river beds... well, I've seen that a million times while growing up in the west. But it is none of these places, it is unique and gorgeous.

  We cross over into France, which in the past was quite an ordeal of checking passports and vehicles, but thanks to the European union we pass the border with only a sign and slight change in pavement to mark the change. Upon arriving in Nice we have dinner, I am underwhelmed. I think this is more to do with the budget restaurant than the quality of French food. My theory is proven when a group of us goes out after dinner. Rain falls as we walk adding a shiny gloss to the streets and shops. At the cafe our waiter speaks English well and jokes with us. I have a crepe with jam, good conversation, and end the night smiling.

                                                  Thursday, April 5, 2012:

Isla, France

Inside the church

Isla  doorway

  Fog surrounds the rocky mountain surface and rolls down to the sea. As we travel along the mountain side above the coast I imagine there is a beautiful view of the sea hidden in those clouds. I say a little prayer for sunshine.
  First stop is Feragord, the perfume makers. The tour is interesting and I discover my sense of smell is not as keen as I thought it to be. I correctly identify only 4 of 8 basic scents, I will never be a "Nose" (the master perfume makers). Following the tour I buy more perfume than I had planned but who can resist wondrous smells at a great price? I forgive myself.
  Isla is a small village that sits on the top of a ridge towering over the perfume factory. We have some time before we leave so we climb the steep pathway to the ancient town walls and enter the quaint little town. A small church sits here and I'm surprised by the intricate detail and paintings I find within the walls of this simple church. I enjoy quietly looking at each detail. While on this trip, this is the first church I've been able to feel peace in, the lack of tourists is a relief. 

Monaco

Garden by the palace

  The clouds begin to part as we drive toward Monaco and by the time we arrive the sky is almost as blue as the brilliant water below. This may be the answer to my little prayer earlier but I begin to suspect that bad weather may be against the law in Monaco. Everything here appears perfect; the trim lawns, bright flowers, manicured trees, sparkling ocean, rich condos... I swear even the seagulls are prettier here. Outside the royal palace we watch the changing of the guard. As I stare into the windows of the palace I wonder what it would be like to be royalty. I think, not as amazing as fairy tales would lead us to believe. Fame and fortune also bring a loss of freedom that I don't think I would give up. At least I tell myself that.

Now I must mention the chocolate eclair. It was topped and filled with divine chocolate (and I am not usually a chocolate lover) which melts in my mouth as I chew the flaky pastry. This sentence falls entirely short of the experience. Guess you had to be there.

Church in Nice we walked past

We take a very short ride (partly on the same road as the formula one race) over to Monte Carlo. One word can describe my impression of this place, Money. Note the capitol M. I stand in front of the Monte Carlo Casino for about an hour and see 7 Ferraris, 3 Lamborghinis, an Aston Martin, a Royals Royce, and too many other luxury cars to count. I begin to doubt if my income qualifies me to even stand here.

Once back in Nice we have a delicious dinner followed by some free time to roam the streets of Nice. We wander in a few clothing stores then make some purchases at a grocery store for lunch on the train we take to Paris tomorrow. I'm quite proud of the fact that I made it through the check out experience with my extremely limited French vocabulary. You would think that my French student son would be more help, but he is a bit shy about speaking to "real French people". However, I see a healthy pride in his eyes when he explains to me how to say something in French. He has come alive with noticing things since we've entered France. This is why we came, I'm so glad we did.

 Friday, April 6, 2012:
  I walk zombie like to the bus, it is early. We have a train to catch this morning and while I'm excited to take a ride on a bullet train, I feel more like the walking dead. It takes a bit of maneuvering to get all our luggage up the stairs but once on board I relax.  I had planned to sleep most of the way to Paris in my comfy first class seat (that was a nice surprise), but I soon find myself having an interesting conversation with the French woman sitting across from me. She is a lawyer who lives in Monaco and is traveling north (past Paris) for a job interview. Luckily she speaks English well and even lived in the States for a year. We talk of the differences in our cultures, what we admire or dislike about France & the US. She loves how optimistic Americans are, but cannot understand our preoccupation with violence and religion. Oh, and baseball... she just doesn't get baseball! I told her some Americans feel the same about "football", what we call soccer. I haven't enjoyed conversation this much in a while and she seems to feel the same as we say good bye and part ways in Paris. She gives me her card and I look forward to emailing with her. I have missed much of the beautiful French countryside along our way, but I did get a few glimpses of farms, fields, and cows zipping past my window at 160 mph. It doesn't seem as fast when you're on the train. 

The Louvre

   A day and a half. That is all the time we have in Paris so we're going to make it count. Muris takes us directly to the Louvre. It is a bit surreal to be standing in a place you've seen in movies & TV, I've had this feeling often on this trip. I'm overwhelmed with the size of this place, each wing seems to go on forever. We have limited time so we hurry through the halls and rooms to reach the Mona Lisa. I feel almost ashamed to be rushing past all this incredible art, yet we have no choice. I console myself with thoughts of coming back someday. I've been told that the Mona Lisa is much smaller than you would expect and so of course, it is actually much bigger than I expected. We walk at a slower pace on our way back through the halls, taking pictures and discussing some of the art. On our way to the Egyptian and Medieval wing Alex and I spot a snack counter, is it worth the stop? There are some great looking sugar donuts so we decide it's worth it. Best things at the Louvre: Mona Lisa, Winged Victory, Sugar Donuts. Not necessarily in that order. 

Notre Dame

Rose Window

   My anticipation builds now as we are on our way to Notre Dame. This is the place I've been most excited to see and it does not disappoint. I know I said a few days ago that the Duomo is the biggest church I've ever seen, how quickly I need to amend that statement. I'm not sure if it's the actual size or just the grandeur of it but I'm in awe. The gargoyles jutting out from the top tiers are so high I'm frustrated with my inability to get a more detailed look at them. I love the gothic look, the flying buttresses, the two tall towers. I take it all in as I wait in line, inching my way closer to the entrance. Upon entering I'm overwhelmed... my eyes are immediately drawn upward to the arched ceiling as I hear a choir begin to sing. I realize it's Good Friday and they are having mass here this evening. The song fills the incredibly large space and fills something within me as well. I'm struck with the thought that whoever built this church was inspired by God. It is quite dark inside which brings even more brilliance to the colors of the stained glass windows. I spend as much time as I can wondering the side isle and watching mass. I reluctantly leave in time to meet the others for dinner.

Our table

Dinner is in a restaurant in the latin district of Paris, so called because it is where the universities were located and everything was taught in latin. The food is some of the best yet, tender pork with a magical white sauce and potatoes seasoned perfectly. Finished off with chocolate mousse and live music. A pianist and singer entertain us with a couple songs before we have to leave. The French language is even more beautiful when put to music.

                                              Saturday, April 9, 2012:
  The hotel is more like the states than any others we've stayed in. Breakfast is also more like home, they actually have eggs and the most wonderful apple juice. I need to pause here for a moment to discuss croissants in France. I don't know what they put in croissants in France but it is not the same stuff they put in the ones at home. They are divine, I don't even need to put jam on them. I'm ruined now, croissants at home will never measure up.
 

 I'm exhausted already as we board the tour bus, but excitement will keep me energized, I hope. We spend the morning on a bus tour of Paris. Luckily it is a holiday weekend (I keep forgetting that it's Easter weekend) so the streets are clear of traffic and we get to see a lot of the city. I can't begin to remember all the buildings we saw and the historical significance of each. To be honest, it all kinda runs together except for a couple highlights. The obelisk,  which stands in the square where they beheaded people, including Marie Antoinette, during the French revolution stands out among all the French architecture. It was a gift from Egypt. And the Arch de Triumph, a solid reminder of ancient times surrounded by a beehive of modern activity. Several roads converge into a large cobblestone roundabout with the arch at the center. It is appropriate that while standing here you can see the "old Paris", historical stone buildings, on one side and the "new Paris", skyscrapers and office buildings, on the other.  

April in Paris

Our bus tour ends at the Eiffel Tower. Alex suddenly comes to life. Climbing to the top of this famous symbol of Paris is at the top of his "to do" list. It is a bit hazy and the tower is back lit, but we still take pictures and get in the line marked "stairs". After an hour in line (actually shorter than I expected) we buy our tickets to the top. I'm paying 12 euros for the torture, I mean pleasure, of climbing the mother of all stair masters. The kids race ahead of Mr. Isham and I, oh to be young again! I make it to the first floor, then half way to the second floor I start to lose strength and feeling in my right side. My MS is going to ruin this and I feel the emotion start. I could make it to the top if I had plenty of time to rest and be slow, but we are on a tight schedule and I know I won't make it. Upon reaching the second level, I share this with Alex. The look on his face breaks my heart and I can't stop the blasted tears. He begs me to come with him, says he will help me, but I convince him to take pictures for me and I'll wait here for them. Shortly after they head up, Alex races back to me, so excited to say that the stairs are closed for repairs and everyone has to take the elevator to the top. Emotional breakdown for no reason! While Alex is disappointed that he can't climb the whole way, at least now I can go with him. The view from the top is amazing and I feel a sense of accomplishment even though we rode up the last half.

What would happen if I spit from here?

Entrance to the metro

Following our decent, we meet up with everyone else and head to the metro. The metro in Paris is an experience. Yeah, experience is a good word for it. We use the metro for our transportation the rest of today and it is, at times exciting, sickening, frightening, and confusing. I've never stood so close to strangers or held so tight to Alex's backpack. At our first change of trains, our group has to spread out and ride in different cars. Muris tells us which stop to get off at, then we hop on the train hoping everyone will make it. Once at the designated stop, Muris counts us and we give a triumph cheer, everyone has made it!

Sacred Heart Basilica of Montmartre

Sacred Heart Basilica of Montmartre  is our next stop. It sits atop a hill, a very steep hill, more stairs. Alex wants to climb to the top, of course. Several street performers are entertaining people in front of the church, the stairs and street are crowded with people. This is a popular place with a beautiful view.

We have an early dinner planned so we can make it to an evening boat ride on the Seine. We eat at Flam's restaurant which serves all you can eat flammekueche, a pizza like dish. It has a crust like a saltine cracker, extremely thin, with cheese and one or two toppings. This is one of the many times I wish Dan was here, he loves thin crust pizza and this is the thinnest I've ever seen. Following dinner we have about an hour for shopping. Alex and I wander down a small alley way filled with shops ranging from antiques to candy. It's not "touristy" so I enjoy it more than other shops we've stopped by. I'm interested in an old book store but since I don't read French my browsing is short. 

Paris in April

Paris at night

As the day is coming to an end we make our way back to the Eiffel Tower where we will start a scenic river boat cruise. The haze has cleared and the tower looks grand. I enjoy a leisurely stroll, which is welcomed after all the rushing today. While waiting in line for the cruise the Eiffel Tower lights up, breathtaking! Actually, that is a great way to describe Paris at night, breathtaking. The boat for our cruise is built for numbers not romance, however the city outside the boat's windows was definitely built for romance. Architecture and bridges are illuminated and they shimmer on the river as we slowly pass. I long to be floating through here alone with Dan while soft music plays, in reality I'm sandwiched onto a seat while a loud speaker announces the buildings we pass in three languages. I focus on the beauty of Paris at night and try to block out the rest.
  We walk away from the majestic glow of the Eiffel Tower towards the metro that will take us back to our hotel. I keep having the urge to look back at the tower as it fades from sight. One last glimpse!

Eiffel Tower

                                                    Sunday, April 8, 2012:
  Happy Easter! This should be, but is not actually my first thought upon waking. It is the earliest we've had to wake up and last night was the latest we've gotten to sleep. The streets are almost deserted as the bus drives us to the airport and I think of all the families enjoying their Easter morning traditions. My desire to be home increases with each passing moment. Good thing we are heading home today, only 8 hours.
  The flight is long but not unbearable. Air France has provided nice space and accommodations even to us peon coach passengers. Touch down in Atlanta, an hour through customs and security, then my boys are all rushing towards me. Alex and I are practically tackled and we all hug and talk and hug some more. I will cherish the last 10 days spent traveling with my Alex for the rest of my life. Traveling brings me joy, it is one of the great loves in my life, but part of what makes it so great is the coming home.

Goodbye Paris!