Day two put us on a train out to Versailles. We stopped at a nearby boulangerie on the way to the station and did a marvelous job of interrupting the constant flow of normal customers, because the one person behind the counter seemed to have orders memorized. We stood, deciding, while several came through, hurrying to work, to grab a pastry.
The train was filled with other tourists headed out to the palace. We spent a short time underground, but soon emerged to elevated rails that allowed us to take in the normal Parisian morning. School football teams practicing, children walking to school, people carrying baguettes home, people starting their workdays.
We arrived at the station and disembarked, following the flow of people towards the main thoroughfare and our first view of the palace. Even with overcast skies, the gates and adornments glittered.
We had booked a tour of the King’s Apartments, both to get a behind the scenes look and to ease entry into the palace. We located the correct entry and took up waiting in a room with many couches. The staff brought out some earpieces to be used during our tour, and then the guide entered to get a quick overview of the tour and check on the functionality of our earpieces. She had a very thick French accent and held her nose just high enough in the air to convey her conviction of the importance of the place. She provided many great details. The tour ended in the Royal Opera, and we were given as much time as we wanted to sit and take in the myriad intricate details.
We then took the normal walking tour of the palace, including the Royal Chapel, Hall of Mirrors, and Hall of Battles. We grabbed some baguettes for lunch (and maybe a macaroon or two) and walked the gardens for a bit. The sprinkles at times turned to steady rain, so we didn’t venture very far through the expansive grounds. The fountain shows had not yet started for the year. We headed back to the palace and stopped to pick up some souvenirs, both at the palace shop and the chintzy shops on the way back to the station.
We boarded the train back to Paris and arrived with a few hours to kill. Greene and Drew took to shopping, while the rest of us went back to rest before we headed out for the night. They found a nice store to pick up some hard-to-find-in-the-Kingdom things.
Later on, we hit the Metro to head to the Montmartre district. We climbed the steps (fighting through the string guys) and took in views from the Sacre Coeur of a cloudy Paris. We decided to take in the basilica from the outside. There was some filming going on around the area, but we didn’t see any recognizable actors.
We took a different route down the hill towards the restaurant we had booked for the night. We passed through many quaint and quirky shops. The girls found a small shop to visit while Mom, Cade and I stood outside the boucherie and watched people stopping in for their evening meal ingredients. We then headed to the Sacree Fleur for a nice sit down dinner. For starters, we covered a great cheese and apple salad, snails and frog legs. The entrees included filet, veal, leg of lamb and duck breast. Creme brulee, orange crepes and ice cream capped the meal.
After the meal was the most traumatic event of my wife’s life. Mom had requested that we just breeze by the Moulin Rouge to grab a picture from the outside. It was around the hill from the restaurant, so we began a pleasurable stroll in that direction. We stopped at a souvenir shop and the kids got to try their Arabic out with the shop owner when Greene asked where he was from and found out he was Lebanese. When he found out the kids were learning, he graciously let them try out a few phrases and we left with maa salama. We continued on down the street when the bright lights big city smacked us hard in the face. We soon realized that our kids would forever have an indelible mark upon them if we went any further as a family. Then the great dilemma. Who would accompany my mother down the Boulevard du Clichy? We couldn’t let her go alone. And good God, I couldn’t look at my mother in the face afterwards if we shared that experience. So my beautiful, strong, dedicated wife responded to the panic induced nausea she saw in my face. She. accompanied. my. mother. down. by. shops. with. S.E.X. in. 10. ft. tall. letters. The street hawkers soon began offering and saying things they have since repressed, and they hugged each other tight enough that if one went one direction, they would both have to go.
I took the kids to the Carrefoure and the next time I saw my wife, she had changed. As though some veil had been removed.
From Tennessee To Texas to Saudi Arabia 