Praise google, we have finally sorted through all the photos from our trip. I have a friend who went to Morocco this spring and when he came back he mentioned that he had ridden a camel. And I was like, "Nuh-uh! You rode a camel? An actual, real camel? For reals?!" And he said yes, and that he had photos to prove it. So every day I would go to his website, where he posts his photos, eager to see the camel, yearning to see the camel, and...no frickin' camel. No photos at all, in fact. And so every day I would email him and say, "Um, where is THE CAMEL? Dude, you said I could see the camel but by not posting your photos you are making that extremely difficult. I WANNA SEE THE CAMEL." And then after like, TWO WEEKS of me pestering him about the damn camel, he finally posted the pics. Including several of the camel. And, can I just tell you, it was totally worth the wait. But still, I was like, "Dude, you are a complete lazyass for taking TWO WEEKS to post photos from your trip. I mean, what is your problem?!" But now? Yeah, I totally understand.

So, here they are. Well, these are not ALL of the photos from our trip by far. But they're some of my favorites, many of which Rob took. (Sorry, no camels.)

(Click photo to see the London collection.)

(Click photo to see the Paris collection.)

One of the days in Paris, Rob and I had a lunch picnic in a park. And Rob glanced up at a nearby apartment building and exclaimed, "Look! It's a French Merv!" Here's the photo I took of him. He isn't as fat or hairy or naked as my Merv, but still! A Merv in Paris! Rock.

This came to mind because my Merv is currently at his windowsill, enjoying a snack of chips and orange juice. I admit it - I sorta missed him.

Can I just tell you how surreal it is to go from being in a city full of French-speaking, baguette-carrying, lovely-shoe-wearing people to being in a valley full of shit-producing, moo-emitting, grass-grazing cows? And what's weirder is that the only thing that separates these two very different worlds is one 8-hour, moderately expensive plane ride. Incredible.

Four things I love about the States:

1. Stores and restaurants are almost always open here. It is morally unacceptable for a Starbucks to be closed on a Sunday afternoon. Am I right? It is also a downright sin for restaurants to only be open from noon-2:00 pm and 7:00-10:00 pm. Or for McDonald's to NOT be open at 8:00 am on a Saturday morning, especially when you need food FAST because you have got a plane to catch. Even in Redneck Valley, things open early, close late, and remain open for all of those hours in between. Not the case in Europe. At all. I have so many woeful stories I could tell because of this little cultural difference, but suffice it to say that here in the US of A we are a society not only of excess but of access as well.




2. Say it with me, folks: AIR CONDITIONING. Hardly anything was air conditioned in London or Paris. I knew to expect this, and being September it didn't cramp my style too much. But it did bother me on the metro and on trains and other smallish places. And there were times in the middle of the day when we were HOT and wanted to duck into a restaurant as much for cooling off as for eating, but none of them were air conditioned. That kinda sucked.




3. Free water at restaurants. At our first meal in London, when the waitress asked us what we wanted to drink, we made the mistake of reciting the line we always use here in the States: "We'll start with water." She proceeded to bring out a bottle of fancy (aka expensive) water which was more or less room temperature (that's another thing - rarely are drinks served cold). During the whole trip, we only once dined in a restaurant that provided water to us for free. I'm not really complaining; I just found it an interesting difference considering that where we live complimentary water at restaurants is pretty much expected.




4. Public restrooms that are plentiful and free. There were more public restrooms in London than Paris but, with only a few exceptions, in both cities they were pay toilets. Most stores did not have restrooms, and we even noticed many restaurants (!) that didn't have any restrooms, especially in Paris. Public water fountains were even more difficult to find (but at least they were free - although never cold). I think taking a shit and drinking water are basic human rights and I'm glad I live in a country where I can do these things for free in public places (oh come on, you know what I mean). And that, folks, is about as patriotic as you'll ever see me.

One way cool thing about both cities (perhaps Europe in general, I dunno) is that all posted prices included tax already. Restaurants, street vendors, clothing stores - all of them did this. I've seen this a few times in the States at busy fast food places in cities, but it was the case for every purchase we made on the trip.

Ooh, and another cool thing I noticed in both cities were Smart Cars. They are soooo small! As in, a mini Cooper looks like a frickin' SUV next to these things. They were all over the place in London and Paris.

I became a bit obsessed with these little cars, despite the fact that were I to actually sit in one, I would certainly have an immediate claustrophobia attack much like the one I had while riding in the smallest elevator known to man at our hotel in Paris, in which there was just enough room for Rob, myself, and our two very small suitcases, in which there were two doors, one that automatically opened and one that had to be pushed open and when Rob did not push the manual one open quickly enough I screamed, as only someone who is literally about to black out from the loss of oxygen can, "PUSH IT! HARDER! PUSH IT HARD!", which he did and then deftly stepped into the hallway out of my way as I barrelled out of the elevator gasping for air, heaving for air, and exclaiming, "Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh. OH MY GOSH. Oh sweet lord!" only to then turn my head and notice that one of the housekeepers was standing there observing the crazy American lady who is either very claustrophobic or just had an incredible orgasm in the elevator, to whom she politely said, "Bonjour!" to which I responded by mumbling "Pwhummum" as I sucked in deep breaths and stumbled, lightheaded, into our room.

I'm resisting the urge to choose a favorite city. I love to name favorites and I absolutely would if it were an easy answer. But Paris and London are so different from each other and also SO different from New York and SO SO different from San Francisco and then if I start comparing those to the other major cities I've been to (Atlanta, DC, Toronto, Mexico City, Madrid, Barcelona) I just get really really confused. (Does Pittsburgh count? Nah, I didn't think so.)

Of those 10, I will say that my top three, in random order, are New York, London, and Paris, with Toronto as a strong #4. I will also tell you that Atlanta and DC and Mexico City sink to the very bottom of the list, although that's likely unfair to Mexico City because I was there on a mission trip and so only saw the worst parts. The other cities are muddled in the middle somewhere. The next city Rob and I would like to visit is Sydney, Australia. It seems like a cool place. Plus, the man at the post office tells me it is his all-time favorite city, so there you go! Plus, how great would it be to see Australia? PLUS, we could go geocaching with Bente! (I know you don't live in Sydney, Bente, but we'd work it out...)

However, there are currently no plans in the works for a trip to Sydney. I am, however, planning my upcoming pilgrimage to the Target of Redneck Valley. Which, did I mention, opens in October? I'm considering camping out in the parking lot so I can be the first person through the doors. Is that weird? Nah, I didn't think so.

On Friday, our last day in Paris, we did a bit of a walking picnic. We bought bread and cheese at a grocery and then walked all over the place, visiting squares and cathedrals and geocaches and naked statues and all sorts of stuff, stopping to snack all along the way. It was great.

Meet Cézanne. From the looks of things, my best guess is that the thing she's holding is a vibrator. I'm just saying.

Rob with his French lovah - I insisted he grab her boob for the photo.

That evening we had a wonderful meal with lots of wine (I would like to note that Paris is even better when I'm a bit tipsy - my French, however, is not). We ended the day with a boat ride along the Seine - past Notre Dame, past the Louvre, past the Eiffel Tower. It was a fabulous end to the trip.

Now, ::sigh:: we're home. Coming home from a trip is always bittersweet. For me, anyway. You hear people say that traveling just makes them appreciate home even more, that they had a great time but are really glad to be back. To that I say - meh. I can't remember a trip at the end (or sometimes even the middle) of which I didn't beg Rob to please let us move there.

(Thanks to Di for anticipating my reluctance to come home and providing me with a perfect tagline - refresh if you don't see it.)

There were some reasons I was glad to be back, though. I was very much looking forward to seeing my babies again - there was much rubbing of faces and kissing and purring (them and me). They all piled onto our bed last night and I realized that Rob and I sleep in the equivalent of a twin bed on a regular basis - we're scrunched into the top half of our bed because the cats take over the bottom. And golly I love that, I really do. Today, we visited with both of our families. And I love that we live so close to them. And the Redneck Valley Target opens in October! It's a good life, even if it's not Paris.

I'll post a few more observations and photos from the trip soon. For now I just wanted to say that we're back safely and that just like I missed my family and my cats, I missed you people, too. And to be in the same missed classification as my family and cats? Yeah, that's a compliment.

More observations about Paris:

We've been more relaxed here than in London. In London we had a whole list of things to see and here the list is much shorter and we're just taking our time. We've slept in both mornings (incredible to wake up together to the sounds of Paris below - and I still contend that this is much more satisfying in a double bed). Yesterday we got pastries at a fabulous bakery across the street and sat with our coffee and our pastries at a sidewalk table. We walked a lot yesterday but were never in a hurry. One of the unexpected entertainments was watching the traffic from the top of the Arc de Triomphe. The road circles around the arch and there are 12 roads that spike off the circle and there are NO LANES and NO TRAFFIC LIGHTS and it is a frickin' disaster. And so fun to watch.

Last evening was incredible. We got to the Eiffel Tower just as the sun was setting. It's just a stupid metal tower but my god, it is so beautiful. We stayed until it was well dark out. (The tower is lit once the sun goes down, and in addition to this, every hour on the hour white lights flash, randomly and rapidly, for ten minutes. Sorta like a huge Christmas tree...we thought it was tasteful, though. You can see those in the last shot below.)

Instead of going to the top of the Eiffel Tower, we went to the top of the Montparnasse Tower. Rob's mom had given us this insider's tip. It's much better because the Eiffel Tower is part of the view. And also, there is no wire fence like on the Eiffel Tower and also, there are no people! There were never more than 2 other couples on the top the whole time we were there. I guess it's just not well advertised because if people knew about this, it would have been packed. To see the city in lights, with the Eiffel Tower dominating the landscape, is breathtaking.

Rob wants to say: Nous sommes arrivés á Paris cet aprés-midi.

(Hit refresh to see my French tagline! Thanks to william.)

Some observations about Paris:

• The metro is not nearly as clean as the Tube in London. I've been to Paris once before and so I knew this already, but it's still worth noting.




• Another thing we remarked often about London was that it didn't smell. Maybe twice we got a whiff of garbage ("Ah, it smells like New York!" I said, which is not an insult because I fucking love New York.) Like the Tube, London is clean. Paris - not so much. Again, I knew this. Actually, we haven't noticed the smell of trash much - it's been mostly BO and urine. Not everywhere, mind you - but often enough for us to comment that it's noticeable. Also, the streets aren't as clean as London. I think what I'm really trying to say here is that London rocks the cleanliness.




• Today Rob and I were on both the smallest elevator known to man and the largest elevator we'd ever been on. Both made me uncomfortable, for different reasons. I'm with Goldilocks - give me "just right."




• We were in Montmartre this evening, and every restaurant we passed had tables on the sidewalk and wine glasses on every table as part of the regular place setting. Eating outside, drinking wine - this is my kind of city.





The restaurant in which we had dinner - Le Verger de Montmartre

And turns out, we are not fucked in France after all! Well, language-wise anyway, if you know what I mean. Because hello! Out of his ass Rob has pulled French I didn't know he had. I mean, Wow, where did that come from? And Rob speaking French? Totally hot.

Amélie, quite possibly my most favorite film of all time, was set in Montmartre. This is the deli in which Amélie worked. Yes, the photo is crooked but that is just to show you that I was so excited by this that I couldn't keep the camera straight. We also passed Le Moulin Rouge, which is the site of another of my favorite films.


Les Deux Moulins from Amélie

Before we left for this trip, I was trying to learn a little French. I successfully learned about 10 words, three of which were le chien (the dog), blanc (white), and marche (walk). And I swear to google, this evening, on three separate occasions, I saw a white dog walking! A different white dog each time! And I was all, "ROB! Le chien blanc marche! Le chien blanc marche!" It was awesome.

Speaking of google, it has now forgotten me. Me, the google goddess. This is good because I wanted it to forget my last name. But this is bad because it no longer remembers that I am the reigning queen of the cute haircut with highlights. So this next picture is for Google.


The cute haircut with highlights on the steps of Sacré-Coeur

I'd like to end by saying that I am SO GLAD we did not go with the hotel with the twin beds because the hotel we're in is fucking perfect. It is so darn cute I want to pinch its cheeks. I owe you my firstborn, Nilbo, which is not to say there will be one. Merci beaucoup, mon ami.

We're off! And you're all coming with us! (Y'all don't mind sharing a twin bed, right?) Well okay, technically just the blog is coming with us. And the blog will definitely be getting a twin bed all to itself.

I want to say a HUGE thank you to my travel agent, Nilbo. Not only did he save our marriage, but he also pretty much planned this trip for us. And I'd like to introduce everyone to Anna, my newest blog friend who also happens to be a lover of London. Anna is fabulous and she also makes fabulous purses. Yes, I am pimping her purses. Seriously, go look at them. Pretty!

Bridget, making her intentions clear. "Oh, I AM coming with, bitch."

That's it for now. I'll write when I can...