On Fourth of July, we managed to see our covid bubble family friends, the McKee-Starling clan, for the first time in a long time. We had purchased a few inoffensive little fireworks that the kids could mess with in the yard. Thankfully, it had rained, so we felt safe doing so. In fact, I had intended to grill, and was a little sad to see that those plans were likely thwarted by the weather. Turns out I didn’t know the half of it.

When our friends came over, they asked if we’d read the news. I had been bustling around the house and kitchen all day, and honestly hadn’t read anything local. Catastrophic flooding was happening around the Texas Hill Country area. We were getting a lot of rain, and since we don’t have a lot of ground for the rain to soak into, when it does bother to rain, it tends to flood easily. That morning, at a time when most people aren’t awake, the Guadalupe River in the Kerrville area rose something like 25-30 feet in under an hour. And it kept rising. A whole children’s camp, Camp Mystic, was washed away. We were half-glued to the news from then on. The phrase was uttered, “they’re not going to find those kids alive.” And by and large, they didn’t.

So with our mind half on the news, local and otherwise, we enjoyed some oven-baked jerk chicken. The kids played together and messed with fireworks in the yard. And we celebrated an America that may or may not still exist after the current administration is through with it.

We had been cooking a few of the French foods that we had enjoyed while we were in France, to extend our vacation joy a bit. Maya was especially enamored with the Parisian baguettes, so we tried to make a passable version at home without any special equipment. Sean and I really enjoy this YouTube chef named Brian Lagerstrom. Maya and I have been making his simple baguette recipe off and on since we’ve been back from France. It is particularly lovely slathered with European butter and served as ham sandwich.

When we came back from France in late June, we were delighted to find a fruit on Ian’s yellow watermelon plant. Then over the next couple weeks, we were astonished at how quickly it managed to grow. In fact, it had gotten to something near its fully grown size, and I had just learned that it should be harvested when the exterior yellows. The very next day after I looked that up, we were dismayed to find that the watermelon was no longer on its vine. Instead pieces of very well-scraped rind were strewn about the area. Some animal or set of animals enjoyed a feast. Luckily, Ian wasn’t too torn up and seemed content that at least *somebody* got to enjoy the melon.

In late July, early August, we started noticing bunches of Queen butterflies. For the first time this year, I successfully established some Gregg’s Mistflower plants, and wow do those butterflies love them. We have had inconsistent luck trying to attract Monarch butterflies to the yard, and so this year, I mostly didn’t bother. While I didin’t notice any caterpillars anywhere, the adult Queens absolutely flock to those mist flower plants. (Here’s a handy link explaining how to tell Queens from Monarchs.)

In trying to figure out what kind of butterflies they were, I stumbled across interesting information about the role of this particular plant to this particular butterfly. Nearly all the Queen butterflies you’ll see on a Gregg’s Mistflower plant are males. The flowers provide a chemical, a toxin to other animals, that the male butterflies need to produce pheromones to attract mates. Then the male transfers some of this chemical to the female it mates with, and in turn, that chemical transfers to the eggs, making them toxic to predators.

Also in early August, we were delighted to find a gray fox conked out in our yard. Sean and I both had the same, “awwww, it feels safe here!” reaction.

Around the same time, I harvested all the viable chili peppers Ian and I had grown, chopped them up, and made a fermented chili sauce. It turned out nicely, but the predominant flavor is “hot,” so I’m thinking next time I try this out, I really do need to strain out the seeds and solids and see if I wind up with a more rounded flavor.

In the middle of August, Lolli and Pop drove out to see us for a couple days. We didn’t really do much other than spend time together. We all went to watch Ian play guitar at a farmer’s market concert on Saturday, they drove the kids over a couple times to let them partake of their hotel room, but otherwise, we mostly just hung out. We played Kids Against Maturity, which Maya and Ian seem to now associate with Lolli-Pop visits, ate vegan food, and relaxed.

We needed things to be low key because the next week was an absolute mother. A few weeks prior, I had received a jury summons. Everyone I talked to either told me *they* hadn’t been chosen when it was their turn or offered advice for how to get out of it.

There’s a call-in system where I could check to see if I was still needed for the jury. I tried multiple times through the morning, just in case. Yep, still needed. I drove downtown for my 1p jury selection. After a lengthy voir dire wherein I was potential juror 26 and used my trusty paddle to answer yes or no questions asked by either the plaintiff attorney or the defense attorney, I waited some more while the attorneys made their choices. Since I was number 26 and they only needed 12, I still managed to be hopeful as they trotted us back *into* the courtroom to let us know who had been chosen. I almost didn’t notice at first, because they had truncated the s in my last name when they called it out, but sure enough, I was picked. We waited while our unchosen compatriots gleefully left the room and then we were shown the jury room and given instructions for the remainder of the trial. We were warned that it could last the full week.

And so I drove all the way to north Austin from downtown in rush hour traffic, defeated and deflated. I intended to do my best as a juror of course, but it was a rough week for it. The kids were starting back to school the next day, Sean’s car was having issues that rendered it un-drivable, and the company I work for had just been acquired earlier in the month and I really didn’t want to miss any of the happenings. Alas.

Since we were down to one car, we dropped the kids off a little early at school that first day and headed over to the rental car place to pick up a car for Sean. Then I headed downtown in the thick of traffic. I only *thought* I was in rush hour on Monday. Tuesday morning on AISD’s first day back to school when every stupid highway in the city is under some kind of construction was absolute madness.

The trial was interesting. Since it was a civil trial, the standard we were held to was “a preponderance of the evidence” rather than “beyond reasonable doubt.” This means the evidence had to lead us to believe it was more likely true than untrue, so in that regard the pressure was less. Ultimately, we finished by Thursday, but those three and a half days were enough for me to firmly believe that if I ever have to drive downtown again, it will be too soon.

We had a number of cooking successes this month. Ian’s thing that he wanted to make from our France trip was meringues, and we had made a simple batch a while back, exactly as written in the recipe. This time, he wanted to color the meringues and also draw his own shapes. He attempted to go with a Pac-Man theme, but the fluffy meringue proved to be a little tough to shape. We also made some al pastor chicken earlier in the month that was pretty solid. And even though I hate the mess and waste of deep frying, I made a General Tso’s chicken that we will absolutely be having again. Not only was it crispy and flavorful on day 1, it maintained its crispiness upon reheat. It was amazing.

During covid lockdown in 2020, we had purchased inexpensive laptops for the kids so they could hang out in different parts of the house and “attend class” and do their homework, with the added bonus of starting to get familiar with computer use. Those inexpensive computers are showing the effects of age and rough treatment by young kids; Ian’s fell apart entirely leading to the fun of taking it apart and checking out fancy laptop innards.

We ended the month with computer replacements. We had budgeted a certain amount of money for kids’ summer camps and wound up underspending that budget. Maya simply wanted an updated laptop, which Sean found for her. Ian on the other hand wanted a proper gaming machine. He wanted it so badly that he pitched in his own allowance money to get the upgraded peripherals he so desired. And then he and Sean set about building it.

As with all projects like that, it didn’t necessarily go smoothly, but Ian maybe learned a little about computer assembly and software installation, and poor Sean had to sit on the floor and spend literal hours dorking with computer parts, for which his knees and back roundly punished him. In the end, two kids are happily upgraded and have promised to treat their hardware more kindly from now on.

I am trying to write this now at the end of July, so we’ll see how much of May and June I remember. The last month of school is always a little manic, but this year was especially so because we were so busy preparing for our big family trip to France as well.

We started May off with a concert. We went to see Jack White play at the Moody Theater, and given the rainy weather and the over-scheduling, we nearly didn’t make it in time. Sean tolerated the show for me, and I truly do appreciate it. It’s fun to watch someone who honestly seems like they’re having so much fun performing. White even popped over to the keyboards briefly when his pedal board died, and it was impressive how quickly his crew got things fixed.

Maya participated in her spring beginner band concert at school. It was impressive to see just how much they had improved since the concert in the fall. Unlike the fall concert, for spring, each section (woodwinds, brass, and percussion) had their own piece to perform. The woodwinds got to perform a bit of Over the Rainbow.

Sean tried an experiment to make clear ice. He purchased a rig that employs the concept of “directional freezing.” There’s a big insulated tub (like an itty bitty styrofoam cooler) into which sits some silicon layers that allow the cubes, the water you want, to sit on top and the water you don’t want to collect in the most insulated part of the tub at the bottom. The freezing happens from top to bottom, sort of leaving the impurities that have sunk down in the water to freeze last. It took a very long time for the ice to set up, but once it had done so, we had lovely blocks of clear ice to use in our cocktails. Neat!

Mother’s Day was pretty quiet. I got some kolaches for breakfast, which I love. Sean and the kids gave me a few gifts. We’re trying out a Made-In pan to replace an anodized aluminum one that I had used to death over the course of probably 20 years. Ian made me a snake shaped jewelry holder in his art class, which I have lovingly filled with jewelry.

We had a couple of freak 100 degree days in mid-May. That in combination with our near complete lack of spring rain felt like a harbinger of a terrible summer. (Now at the end of July, I know that not to be true, at least not in the way I was expecting.) Everything was a little slow to bloom, but it eventually did, and we enjoyed a fairly colorful early summer.

Maya managed to borrow a clarinet from school so she could start learning to play it for jazz band next year. We even worked out a single clarinet lesson before school was out, though she had already been messing around with it even before that.

Ian planted a couple kinds of watermelons. We purchased a plant that would produce yellow watermelons. And then we planted seeds from a package of the regular red kind. Everything was growing really well, and I had watered them as regularly as I could before we jetted off to France for a couple weeks.

Sean and I celebrated our 25th anniversary on May 28th. Given all the trip prep and end of school things we were doing, we didn’t really have time to give it much attention, but we did manage to sneak out for lunch that day. We went to a breakfast / home cooking place called Phoebe’s Diner, and it was delightful.

We decided for this big, slightly-more-than-two-week trip to France that we were going to each carry a big backpack with our stuff rather than pack suitcases. This would allow us to not have to deal with checking our bags for the flights. Given that we’d largely be using public transportation and would be moving between locations several times during the trip, it also gave us more mobility when boarding trains, or going up and down stairs to the metro, or walking down cobblestone streets, or hoofing it up several flights of stairs in an elevator-less building.

There are downsides, of course. We had to pack lighter, so we would need to do our laundry a few times while on vacation. Also, it would limit the quantity and type of souvenirs we could purchase, because we had limited space and everything had to be carry-on-friendly. Plus, no matter how well-positioned the packs are on your body, eventually some part of you will feel the weight.

We also made a few changes to limit our carry-on liquids. We tried out laundry detergent sheets, which seemed to work well enough. We bought a couple bars of soap that could be used for body, hair, or to hand wash clothing, if needed. We tried out this “crystal” deodorant that was made of mineral salts. You moisten it and apply it to clean arm pits and it inhibits odor causing bacteria. It seems to be more or less effective, but I’m not sure I’d want to go that route day-to-day.

We tried out a handful of shirts and socks that were all or partially made of merino wool. The idea is that they can be worn for a few days before they actually smell bad, and then once you do have to wash them, they dry really fast. And this seemed to prove out. However, they are expensive and not particularly durable, so I am personally still on the hunt for a better all-around solution.

Sean had purchased some packing cubes that could be compressed. I wasn’t really a believer in them before this trip. From my perspective, I thought that I could pack my stuff much tighter without the added material of a packing cube. As it happens, 1 – I’m not sure that is actually true, and 2 – it was really nice having things organized into the packing cubes, especially during TSA checks and the like.

The kids weren’t crazy about this style of traveling. In the past, they’d only been responsible for little backpacks that held mostly their loveys and their tech. Maya, who has to haul all her stuff around with her at middle school (since they have no lockers), adapted fairly quickly. Ian griped and complained and then did a good job of carrying his stuff around anyway.

Just before we left, Maya had her first visit to the orthodontist. After some imaging, they explained to us that yes, she would benefit from corrective treatment. In deference to her oboe and clarinet playing, we’re going to try to let her try out clear aligners. All of this would start though with a palate expander, which wouldn’t be placed till after vacation.

We went on our big family vacation to France, departing Friday June 6th and returning home Sunday, June 22nd. We went to Paris, of course spent a couple days in the Disney parks there (Walt Disney Studios Park and Disneyland Paris), visited Mont St Michel, saw Nimes and Pont du Gard, and then ended our time with a few relatively relaxing days along the south coast in Nice. Other than driving to and from the airport, we entirely took public transportation (metro, train, bus, tram) except for our trip from the airport to the city when we arrived in Paris because they canceled our train, and to our Eiffel Tower sunrise photo shoot, because it was so early the metro wasn’t actually running yet.

We arrived back in Texas very jet lagged, and me with a nasty cold-like virus of some kind. Sean and I went back to work. The kids lounged around the house. And we slowly, slowly returned things to normal. We were delighted to find that Ian’s yellow watermelon had a fruit on it, a first for us! It looked like the red watermelon plant had tried to fruit but that some creature was nibbling away the fruits before they really had much chance to develop.

And that’s it! We now have a 5th grader and a 7th grader. They have now visited a country where English isn’t the primary language. We came back to a weedy yard but had fruiting plants. Our cats had missed us, so we got tons of interaction for that last week and a half. And since we purposely didn’t schedule any summer camps in June, our poor mistreated children finally got to relax.

Back at the end of May, Sean and I quietly celebrated our 25th wedding anniversary. Between the normal end of the school year craziness and final planning for our big France trip, the fact that we’d been married for a full quarter of a century had been swallowed up.

Twenty-five years is a long time, more than half my life, so far! We met in college in Missouri, both working at the radio station there and both pursuing electrical engineering degrees (though Sean already had his computer science degree – he just didn’t want to graduate).

We were married in Austin, Texas about a year after I graduated and took a job there. This was before we knew better than to schedule an outdoor event in central Texas at the end of May. Now we would probably make a different choice and avoid some of the sweat.

Through college, I drove a Plymouth Voyager that I had bought from my parents. It wasn’t the most glamorous choice perhaps, but the price was right, and it was a handy vehicle for hauling my belongings back and forth between college and co-op jobs and the like. As it happens, that was the car we were sharing when we first lived in Austin. And, as luck would have it, it managed to die during our wedding celebrations. Good thing we don’t believe in omens! Thankfully, Sean’s uncle Larry was able to help us get it lined out. Plus there were tons of family members in town to help with transportation as needed.

The car flaked out, one of my bride’s maids couldn’t make it because of a terrible family emergency, and it was awfully hot, but at the end of the night, we were married all the same, surrounded by family and friends.

The funniest part was our honeymoon. We went that October to Walt Disney World in Florida. The two of us knew each other well enough to have gotten married, but I was not prepared for Sean at Disney. Suddenly he’s awake and raring to go before the sun is up, making plans, mapping things out. It completely blind-sided me. On that same trip, he drove me to the coast for my first-ever glimpse of the ocean (Gulf of Mexico doesn’t count).

And then we lived our lives. We poured money into rent for a while, and then after a year or two, bought our first house up in Cedar Park. Then we both lost our jobs over the course of about a year. We had all made it safely past Y2K, but then the dot.com bubble burst and terrorists flew airplanes into the World Trade Center and the Pentagon. It was a weird and uncertain time. But we figured it out, together.

Ultimately, we found new jobs again, but spent a lot of time working way too hard to make sure we’d never be laid off again, me especially. If there was one thing I would consider changing about my mid to late 20s, it’s how much of my time and emotion I poured into my work life.

We moved closer to town, into the house we still live in today. We wanted a house with a pool, but the houses with pools in our price range were not awesome. I can’t speak for Sean, but I know I did exactly what you aren’t supposed to do when house hunting – I fell in love with the house, and so, in 2005, we moved in.

We had a few medical scares, ourselves and our loved ones. We took some trips. We saw some concerts. We worked on the house some. In 2006, I lost my mom. This was a tricky emotional thing for me, and I’d be lying if I said I handled it well. Sean was there through the whole mess. He stood with me when we stopped life support.

In 2012 or so, we decided that we weren’t getting any younger and that if we wanted a family, now was the time. I had multiple friends who struggled with fertility issues, so I was a little worried, but we had zero trouble. I can still remember the panicked / excited feeling when we had our first positive pregnancy test. Wow, it was that easy? Gold star to all those years of birth control.

We went to Bradley method childbirth classes and felt we were objectively prepared. We knew we were having a girl and that her due date was December 19th. We had just finished getting parts of the house repainted and both our furnaces and AC units replaced (that wasn’t planned). I went into labor a full month early (also not planned). We had been coached so much about false labor, we assumed that’s what was happening. After a couple phone calls with the OB, she eventually told Sean in a panic to bring me in. This all happened very quickly. We were at the hospital something like 18 minutes before Maya was born.

We liked the first kid so much, we decided she needed a sibling, and in 2014, Ian showed up a full six weeks before he was due. After a 4-week NICU stay, our family of four was united at last. And ever since, we’ve more or less chronicled our adventures on this web site.

Another big transitional time for us was COVID-19. In 2020, our 20th anniversary plans were dashed. Our plans to take Maya and Ian on their first Disney trip (a very big deal to Sean especially) were abruptly canceled. Astonishingly, our plans to send them to second grade and kindergarten were no more. Given all this, our plans to sleep or stay sane were likewise curtailed. We couldn’t travel. We couldn’t see family. I couldn’t visit my grandma and then in 2021, she died (not from COVID). We obsessively watched the statistics as the death toll from the disease grew and grew and grew.

Since then, whenever we think we should delay something, we often choose not to because you never know what’s coming. That’s always been true of course, but I think the COVID years really drove the point home.

In 2025, the year of our 25th anniversary, we chose to take the France trip we weren’t able to take in 2020. And we were taking the kids with us. As a 25th anniversary gift to ourselves, we hired a photographer to meet us at the Eiffel Tower before sunrise to take a whole series of family photos. After the fact, Sean and I realized that outside of school photos, these are the first professional family photos we’ve ever had taken. We are delighted with how they turned out.

I feel like I should be hitting more of our big life events in here, but maybe this is enough to remind ourselves that whatever the universe has chucked our way, good and bad, we’ve made it through, together. The current state of our country is difficult and uncertain. Our kids are on the cusp of being teenagers. And we’re old enough to start having involved conversations about how we want to prepare for and spend our post-40-hour-work-week lives. And we will continue to work our way through it, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part.

[I am obligated to tell you that we worked with a lovely woman named Anais at The Parisian Photographers.]

Day 12 – Wednesday – Nimes to Nice, Promenade des Anglais, Place Massena

We had a slightly less unreasonable train to catch this morning – 8:14a to Nice with a train change in Marseilles. The Gare de Nîmes was only maybe a 10 minute walk from our hotel, so getting there and boarding was uneventful. Sadly, I wasn’t able to book another high speed train. It would just be the regional TER trains for this journey, but once we hit Marseilles, views of the Mediterranean Sea routinely popped into view – probably I’m glad those went by a little more slowly.

Unfortunately on the TER trains, I wasn’t able to book specific seats for us. While Nimes to Marseilles was no problem, the train from Marseilles to Nice was much more crowded. At least the kids got to sit together. Sean and I eventually did too, as people disembarked for different destinations.

We arrived in Gare de Nice with little fuss around 12:30p. We couldn’t go collect our keys to the apartment till 2:00, so Ian and I hung out in a nearby park with all our backpacks while Sean and Maya went foraging for a small lunch. Sean was feeling a little sick by this point, but managed to power through it.

The park we waited at was favored by the dog-owners of Nice, and Ian and I were treated to a parade of dogs coming through the park, with a wide range of breeds represented. The dogs were cute, but I was personally delighted with the kamikaze-like diving of the beautiful pigeons. Sean and Maya made it back with sushi (Maya’s choice) and after eating, it was late enough that we could collect our keys. The property manager was extremely nice. She provided us with a tourist map and spent time explaining which spots she would visit and which restaurants she’d recommend.

Thankfully, the apartment was already ready (they had warned us it may not be available till 5). After this, we made the very short walk to our place at 11 bis Rue Grimaldi. We had a key fob to let us into the building, a real key to let us into the apartment, and another key to let us into the garbage room so we could dispose of our trash. We found building 11 and discovered that our key fob wouldn’t let us into the building. Sean was feeling pretty terrible by this point and the thought of walking back to ask about the fob was unappealing. A French person, noticing our distress, looked at the address and explained that 11 and 11 bis were two different buildings. Once we made it one door further to 11 bis, all was well. (I just looked it up. “Bis” literally means “again” and it’s apparently common for the French to use this when the street’s already numbered but a building is split into two separate spaces or a formerly vacant lot is occupied.)

The apartment was beautiful and easy to sprawl out in. Sean was sick to his stomach and needed to rest. Maya was getting over her cough, and I was starting to develop one. We had originally planned to start tooling around Nice that afternoon – it’s part of why we booked such an early train from Nimes. But adaptation is part of travel, and we clearly needed the rest.

After a time, once Sean felt a bit better, he and I wandered out to a nearby grocery store to stock up on supplies. “Supplies” included drinks, snacks, breakfasts, and a bottle of rose that I think maybe cost 3-5 euros. France is, of course, famous for its wine, but we had been so busy on this trip, that we honestly hadn’t partaken much at all. We *have* gotten old!

After this, we decided to walk to the water. Our apartment, which we dearly loved, was about a 10-minute walk to the Mediterranean Sea. I had briefly looked into staying in a hotel or apartment that overlooked the water. Of course they were very expensive, but more than that, I found it difficult to find a place that would accommodate a family of four without booking a second room. We had successfully made it through our France trip without having to book multiple rooms – possibly because we had booked early enough to find family rooms still available. In Nice, either those don’t exist along the beachfront, or I was too late in looking.

We had a weirdly delightful dinner at All Star Burgers. The person running the place was French, but spent part of his time in Arizona. The burgers were really good and well seasoned. Would sushi and burgers have been my top choices for first meals in Nice? No. But I genuinely enjoyed our burger place.

We stopped at a shop to buy ice creams for Maya and Ian. Then we hit a second shop to purchase to-go cocktails for the grown ups (a mojito and an Aperol spritz). And finally we strolled along the Promenade des Anglais for a while. I just looked it up – apparently the promenade was originally funded in the 1800s by the English aristocracy, who enjoyed wintering in Nice – hence the Promenade’s name.

More on names … Our move to Nice begins our time in the Côte d’Azur (literally “blue coast” in English). It edges the Provence region of France and is often referred to as the French Riviera. Our idea was that we’d end our trip at a slower pace and theoretically rest up from our hectic time in Paris, Disney, Mont St Michel, and Nimes.

Eventually we worked our way down to the seashore. The beaches all around Nice are very rocky, often comprised of large pebbles worn smooth by the waves. This left the water very, very clear. The sea is a gorgeous shade of blue (“azur” indeed!), and it’s nice to just sit and watch the various watercraft dotted hither and thither throughout the water. Also, the flight path to the Nice airport crosses the sea, and it’s fun to watch the often huge and very low-flying planes swoop in for a landing.

We walked back home through Place Massena, taking in the pretty square that was so different from the ones we’d wandered through all over Paris. The off-kilter checkerboard pattern of the walkway seemed (to me) to imply that Nice doesn’t take itself quite so seriously. A 23-foot tall marble Apollo stares at you nakedly from the Fontaine du Soleil (Fountain of the Sun), surrounded by bronze sculptures of Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars, and Saturn. Apparently back in the day, some found Apollo’s nakedness offensive and he actually was moved to a stadium outside of town for a number of years.

There are also seven sculptures of people on high poles dotting the Place. These are (apparently) meant to represent the seven continents of the world. They were done by Spanish sculptor Jaume Plensa, who also made Le Nomade in nearby Antibes (which we’ll see later in the trip).

As we wandered the area, we headed through lovely parks and squares, saw a wide variety of sculpture, and crossed over tramline tracks several times. We headed back and wound down fast, managing to finally get a solid night’s rest.

Day 13 – Thursday – Vieux Nice (Old Town) and Cours Saleya, Colline du Chateau, Cathédrale Saint-Nicolas de Nice, Fancy Dinner

We slow-rolled out of bed around 7, taking our time with showers, breakfast, and laundry. Our first stop would be Nice’s morning market, Marche aux Fleurs on Cours Saleya in Nice’s Old Town (Vieux Nice is how the neighborhood is labeled on maps).

It was hotter than normal during our visit (sorry, Nice), so it was a sweaty affair, but I picked up some sea salt flavored with herbs de Provence. Ian bought some poppy-flavored candy. Sean found fresh fruit juices that were cold and delightful, and I got to try socca. Socca is a chickpea flour flatbread baked in a fired oven in what looks like a large, flat cast iron pan. It is cut up to order and served simply with a good sprinkling of black pepper. It reminded me very much of the farinata we enjoyed in Italy many years ago.

After feeding some very pretty pigeons my socca crumbs, we headed out to ride the elevator (l’ascenseur) to the top of Castle Hill (Colline du Château). The wait for the elevator was loud with conversation, but blissfully air conditioned. We could have walked up the hill, of course, but it seemed like a foolish waste of energy. Instead, we waited just a few minutes, took the elevator up, spent a long lovely while wandering to different viewpoints, basking in the waterfall’s mists, and then walking the path down the hill instead. The cost for all this? Completely free, except for the drinks we bought.

While strolling around Castle Hill, near the top as I recall, we heard a loud BOOM and saw smoke. What on earth was that? No one else seemed alarmed, but I was very curious. I did a quick web search, not really expecting to find anything. I can’t remember exactly what terms I searched on, but it turns out they fire a CANNON IN NICE every day at noon. Ok, these days it’s actually some kind of firework that’s launched at midday, but it used to be a cannon.

The story goes that Thomas Coventry, a well-to-do Englishman, got tired of his wife socializing all day instead of making him lunch. In 1863, he covered costs to have a cannon fired off daily at noon so that she’d hear it and be alerted that it was time to go home and cook. It is said that after he left Nice, people had become so reliant on the midday cannon that things fell into disarray without it, and the city had to reinstate the practice. In 1886, they stopped using cannons, switching to a firework of some kind instead. This practice persists to this day, though I hear it’s not to be relied upon on April Fools’ Day.

I can’t say enough nice things about our visit to Castle Hill. I don’t know what I thought it would be exactly – just *less* I guess – but we spent a long while wandering there, lingering especially long at the various levels of the Cascade du Chateau, a man-made waterfall (man made in 1885, mind you), watching the seagulls putter in the water. I also enjoyed the mosaics that were absolutely everywhere, many in motifs inspired by the sea. We saw multiple mosaic-ed octopuses, for example.

After our visit to Castle Hill, we went to find the #ILoveNice sign. We looked all around where both Google Earth and Apple Maps believed it to be, but it appeared to have been replaced by an arguably more interesting work of art. It is a giant crocheted sculpture called ‘Urchins’ (2024), by CHOI + SHINE Architects.

Afterward, we wandered the narrow sloped streets for a while, taking in a street covered in colorful umbrellas. We wandered by Chez Thérésa, maker of fine socca. We tried to convince the kids that that’s where we should pick up lunch, but apparently dining on Nicoise cuisine (pan bagnat, pissaladiere) wasn’t what they had in mind. I think Sean was about at his limit with the kids’ pickiness at that point. We hadn’t really gotten our Parisian dining experience because they had been so particular, and we were doing our best to satisfy everyone. Now we weren’t getting our Mediterranean French fix either.

I stopped at a shop and bought probably not the world’s best pan bagnat, just so I could try it out. The kids bought some kind of fast food type wraps. Then Sean deposited the rest of us so he could go find a nice fresh sandwich (which was really good).

After lunch, we rested again. Our full-tilt first week (plus) simply demanded some down time. While resting, we decided we needed a nice, sit-down dinner at least once while in France. As it happened, there was a Michelin-starred restaurant right next to our rental apartment. We originally saw only a 9:30 reservation, which given the pace of that sort of dining would have meant a very late night. After an accidental screen refresh, an 8:15 popped up, and I snagged it.

We had enough time to walk over and check out the Russian orthodox cathedral, Cathédrale Saint-Nicolas de Nice, before dinner. It was past opening hours, but it was the excellent onion-domed architecture that I was really wanting to see anyway. Alas, the locked gates and formidable fence didn’t allow us to get too close. Still, even from our limited view, the colorful cathedral with its many domes was an interesting and even strange sight in Mediterranean Nice.

Dinner at Le Sejour was wonderful. I was worried that it would be stuffy and overly formal. That proved to be a needless concern. Service was personable and kind. I felt that our family was welcome rather than just tolerated. The kids managed to be (reasonably) well behaved through amuse-bouche, starter (entree), main course (plat), and dessert and attempted a wide variety of flavors and textures. And you wouldn’t believe the teeny, tiny kitchen all this wonderful food was emerging from. It was just what Sean and I needed.

Day 14 – Friday – Antibes, Absinthe, Eze

When I had thought through this trip, I didn’t want to go overboard on day trips from Nice. There are so, so many gorgeous places to visit all along the southern coast, never mind going inland, where the whole of Provence is available to food-loving humans. I had two small experiences in mind, and I had intended to spread them over two days. Alas, our need to relax and regroup a little the two previous days forced my hand a little.

We would cram my two day trips into a single day. We’d take the bus to Eze to see the pretty medieval town, excellent botanical gardens, and epic Mediterranean view. Then we’d take the train from Eze to Antibes to let the kids play on a sandy beach for a while there. Then we’d take the train back to Nice and wind down.

After considering how hot it had been and how the beaches were all in full sun, we elected to swap the order and go to the beach first thing in the morning instead.

We managed to get ourselves onto the 8:47 train which rolled into Antibes a little after 9. After a stroll through the port area to check out Le Nomade, the sculpture by Jaume Plensa, whose work we’d seen in Place Massena a couple days prior, we headed to Plage de la Gravette to spread out our travel towels and take a dip in the cool, clear Mediterranean Sea.

The ramparts and Antibes old town provide an excellent backdrop to Plage de la Gravette. The beach was sandy-ish. But it would still have been wise to bring our water shoes, given how rocky it was once you were in the water. Maya managed to find some really pretty, albeit tiny, seashells and some bits of sea glass. Ian put up with it, but the water was pretty brisk, and he had to take some time to lay on the beach and warm back up periodically. Even at 9:30-10 in the morning, the sun was already kind of scorching, so it didn’t take long to bring your temperature back up.

When Ian got too cold (or too bored) and Maya got frustrated with the increasing number of people, we got dressed and headed into town to wander through the Antibes open air market, Marché Provençal, on our way to the Absinthe Bar. It is listed as both Absinthe Bar and Absinthe Museum, and either way, you have to enter through an unassuming shop. Then, if you can’t figure out what to do, you have to ask one of the nice ladies working in the shop if the Absinthe Bar is open and how do we get there. And *then* if you’re parents of the year, you ask if there are mocktails for the kids (there are)!

The Absinthe Bar is apparently not a hopping place midday on a Friday in June. We walked down the stairs into the bar and found that we had the whole place to ourselves. In fact, once the lady helping us got us all set up with our drinks, she left too, asking us to pay upstairs on the way out. It was down in a cellar type cave, so it was cool and dark and since there were no people, quiet.

Our lady set the kids up with their mocktails, and then she set Sean and I up with pours of absinthe, complete with spoons and sugar cubes. She showed us how to place them under the fountain and let the water slowly drip through the sugar cube on the spoon into the absinthe below. As the cool sugar-water hits the liquor, it turns from clear to cloudy (louche) and becomes delightfully light and drinkable … unless you’re Sean and don’t enjoy the licorice-like flavor of anise. He told me later he was glad for the experience, but he continues to not like absinthe.

After this, we caught the train back to Nice and freshened up at the apartment. Since the kids had been so chill at the bar, we took them for burgers again for lunch. Then we took the tramline to Vauban station. From there we took Bus number 82 all the way to Eze Village. I remember this taking quite a while, and those bus drivers have some serious skill to navigate such large vehicles through those narrow cliffside streets.

We didn’t get into Eze till after 5, and I was worried that there wouldn’t be enough time, but Eze is actually quite small, and we were mostly there to see the Jardin Exotique at the top of the village. Clouds had rolled in, so the sun was covered, which made for a much more enjoyable experience. The cacti and succulents and herbs and flowers coating the grounds were varied and gorgeous. The statues sprinkled throughout lent an air of grace and peace. The waterfalls provided a dampening noise. A bank of misters and a row of chaises provided relief from the heat and the uphill climbs.

We had a really good view of the 80-meter-high Pont d’Eze, also known as the Eze Viaduct or, more colorfully, the Devil’s Bridge. Evidently, the devil agreed to build the bridge so long as he could claim the soul of the first person to cross it.

When our visit was done, we took La Chemin de Nietzsche (Nietzsche’s Path) down to the train station in Eze sur Mer. Apparently Nietzsche spent some time in the warm climate of Eze in an effort to improve his declining health. It must have worked, because it is said that he walked the path daily, uphill and down, and you’d have to be fairly fit to do that.

Even just walking downhill as we did, it was a somewhat demanding hike. This isn’t a paved trail, but a real hiking path. You have to watch your footing to keep from rolling an ankle or slipping. This is difficult to do too because the scenery that unfolds as you descend, turning corners and entering clearings, is gorgeous. That said, the grown-ups were a sweaty mess by the time we got to the bottom, bought our tickets from the machine at the station, and boarded our train. The train ride back was much, much shorter than our bus journey earlier had been.

In walking back from the train station to our apartment, we passed by a promising looking Italian restaurant. Alas, given our sweaty state, we opted for quick pizzas that we could bring back to the apartment instead. We did, however, make a reservation at the nice place for the next night.

Day 15 – Saturday – Cours Saleya, Librairie, Nice Beach

I woke up on this particular morning not feeling super duper – lots and lots of congestion, not a lot of energy. For trips like this, I tend to take notes so I can remember and recount our adventures later. I have not a single word in my book about this day.

My original plan for our last day had been to walk the famous Coastal Path from Nice to Villefranche-sur-Mer (~4 km), visit Villefranche-sur-Mer a little, then take a quick train back to Nice. Between the heat, my illness, and everyone’s general tiredness, we decided that wasn’t the best choice for today. Instead we took it fairly easy.

We had wanted to see if there was interesting art to be had from the craftspeople at or near the market in Old Town, so that’s where we started our day. After wandering for a while, we found an artist who did beautiful little watercolors of various places along the Cote d’Azur. We found a couple that we liked and purchased them. The artist, who spoke mostly French, implored us to be careful in the heat, pointing out that we needed un chapeau (a hat).

Then we found Chez Theresa’s socca stand and loaded up. It turns out all four Woodses enjoy socca. There was a bit of a wait in line, but that was ok, because then we got to watch a Chez Theresa restaurant employee roll up in a pedal-cart to restock the socca whenever it ran low. I had been wondering how they managed to stay supplied.

I think we decided to head back to our apartment after this and augment our socca with other leftovers and snacks we needed to clear out before leaving town the next day. Then, probably because of me, we relaxed for a while. The air conditioning was thankfully very good in our rental place, and it felt nice to cool off and rest a while.

Sean and I went out on our own then, stopping by the store to ensure we had enough food for breakfast the next morning. Then, at my request, we stopped by a librairie (bookstore) so I could peruse the French cookbook selection. On the way back, we stopped at a fancy patisserie that Ian had been eyeballing and picked up Dubai chocolate for him (it was his obsession this vacation), some random black brick looking dessert for Maya, and a pretty raspberry pastry for Sean. By all accounts they all enjoyed their treats.

We thought that we should try to take the kids to the beach one more time while we were on the coast. This time, we’d keep it simple and just let them play on the pebbly beach there in Nice. We loaded up our gear and headed down there, me hoping to find some place to park it and rest while the rest of them played. The beach was insanely crowded, but the kids still managed to find their way to the water and play for a while. After about an hour, we headed back to the apartment to clean up for dinner and start to collect up our belongings for the trip back to America.

We had been wanting to sit outside at a restaurant the whole time we were in France, but in deference to Maya’s smoke aversion, we always chose indoor seating. On this evening, when we got to Miamici, the Italian place we had noticed the day prior, in the nice shade with a relatively cool breeze, we sat outside. The grown-ups ordered cocktails, the kids ordered mocktails, and a live singer began belting out tunes.

One of the waitstaff explained to us that they were having live music that evening to celebrate Fete de la Musique. I had read a few articles earlier in the day that because Fete de la Musique fell on a Saturday this year, people in Paris were expecting things to get pretty wild. For us, the atmosphere was more subdued. The singing lady at one point invited her son up to sing with her, and the pair both had lovely singing voices. It was a bit loud maybe, but otherwise pleasant enough. I will say that sitting at an outdoor table at a trattoria in Nice listening to a singer belting out “Georgia on my Mind” is a little surreal.

I had a lovely gnocchi and shrimp dish that I gave over to Maya when she discovered that she wasn’t going to be able to eat her black squid ink pasta with clams that she ordered (we traded). Ian ordered pizza that he ate almost none of. We couldn’t really chat too much because of the singing, but we had a delicious and relaxing meal nonetheless.

After all that, we breathed in the sea air, let out a wistful sigh, and headed back to our apartment to start packing and tidying up.

Day 16 – Sunday – Goodbye France

Our flight didn’t leave Nice till 1:00 and the airport was only a short tram-ride away, so we ate, finished packing, and finished cleaning up the apartment without having to hurry. Check out time was 10, and we left shortly before then to catch our tram. Bonus, as we were walking into the airport from the tram stop, we saw an #ILoveNice sign! We snuck in a quick photo right there at the airport like the ridiculous tourists that we are.

We didn’t expect the Nice airport to be all that busy and felt we’d have plenty of time to get through security and get to our flight. But, for reasons we didn’t understand, when we checked into our flight online, it didn’t give us boarding passes for everyone. We figured we’d sort it out at the airport, but finding the right line to get in to have that remedied was a little tricky. It cost us some time, but not insurmountably so.

I don’t remember the security line being all that long. It was a little confusing which things they did or didn’t want out of your bags because their demands didn’t seem to match the signage, but honestly, I feel like that’s true of airports in the US also.

Then we saw the line to get into our terminal. It was massive. We walked and walked and walked to get to the end of it. It did move along reasonably quickly, but still, it took a long while to get through. We finally made it through and were hanging around at our gate, noticing already a disorganized wedge of humanity forming around our gate. I can’t speak for Sean, was I was feeling pre-weary about the line we’d have to fight our way through when our group was called. We had to fight though, because we needed to make use of that all important overhead bin space.

Then our names were called. This on top of the boarding pass kerfuffle was almost too much to bear. We tried to make our way to the desk so they could tell us why we were called. All the Very Important People with their upgraded statuses seemed to be put out that we went up there, but we had to find out what was going on.

Turns out we were randomly selected for extra screening. Thankfully the man who collected us for this extra screening was extremely nice. He explained that our kids would come with us and wait just outside the security border, always in sight of us. We opened our carefully packed bags, removed our shoes, answered a few questions and then were done. It was honestly fairly painless. I was just lamenting having to fight for our place in line again, when he ushered us through and onto the airplane. Apparently, since we were chosen for extra screening, as a courtesy, they let us onto the airplane right away. No fighting with people, plenty of bin space, finally, something easy at this airport.

The flight to Philadelphia was uneventful. While I wanted to sleep, I couldn’t, so I worked my way through several movies in between many, many kid demands. We rode on a 787 (just as we had on the way there), and I had noticed the window dimming overnight on the trip to France, but we really noticed it on this day during our entirely daytime trip. One of the features of a 787 is electronically dimmable windows. There’s apparently a layer of gel between two window panes. A chemical reaction causes the gel to darken when an electric current is applied to the gel. The higher the current, the darker the gel. Crazy!

We had no real issues going through customs in Philly. There was a point where they barked that they wanted us to come through one person at a time (which would have split us between agents), but they chilled out a little once they realized we were a family and didn’t want to be separated. Our flight to Austin even had the audacity to arrive a little early. Even at that, we arrived fairly late in the evening, and to bodies still on France time, it felt seven hours later. It would be a rough work day the next day.

By all accounts, we had an amazing trip. There were travel obstacles and workers’ strikes and a mild language barrier, which sometimes confounded our efforts. Our kids’ preferences and complaints often made things more frustrating than they had to be. I cannot say we always handled these things with perfect grace, but we did manage to roll with the punches. And we saw incredible, beautiful things. When it happened, it was fun to see one of the kids be genuinely interested or astonished at the places we visited. We tried to learn some of the history that gave those things context. An interesting thing about a country as old as France is that you often had to see things in several different contexts – castle, fortress, prison, museum – depending on which century you were considering.

We had a 6:28a train out of Gare de Lyon to Nimes. Luckily that was both late enough that the metro was running and early enough that most of the Parisians weren’t. This trip was on the TGV line, Train a Grande Vitesse, the high speed train. Like our trip between Rennes and Paris earlier this vacation, we had assigned seats at a 4-person table, comfortable chairs, and perhaps most importantly to Maya and Ian, wifi. Plus the train theoretically reaches speeds of 320 kph and, generally speaking, doesn’t have to contend with traffic, so it’s a nice ride.

We took a metro to the station. During this entire trip, I had been trying to make sure both kids got through the metro entry before I went through. Somehow this time, I managed to get through before Maya made it, and for reasons none of us are quite certain of, her pass would not work. Sean and I could find no quick way to get back through to buy another pass for her, and she of course was stuck. Maya was just on the verge of full panic when an extremely kind person took pity on us and beeped her through with his own pass. Thank you kindly, random French stranger. You may have saved us from missing our train.

After that, I remember the trip being uneventful. We found our train in the giant train station with only a minimum of hand-wringing then got our luggage loaded and found our seats. Ian enjoyed exercising his independence, happily making forays to the bar car to purchase sodas, or wandering around to find the bathroom or a trashcan.

We arrived in Nimes around 9:45. The walk from the train station to our hotel was not particularly long, and mostly shaded. Upon arrival, they gave us some tourist information and a nice map, and we were able to drop our bags off, so we could go explore the area unencumbered.

I had a loose hit list and a bus schedule for Pont du Gard, but didn’t really have a specific plan. We wandered over to the arena first since it was so close and we knew for sure we didn’t want to miss that. There, we found many ticket combo options to choose from. We selected the “Three Monuments” pass and purchased it at a special rate for a family of four.

The Arenes de Nimes is a Roman ampitheatre. It is smaller than the Colosseum in Rome (holding 23,000+ spectators compared with the Colosseum’s 80,000), though the one in Nimes is considered to be better preserved. It’s still in active use today, and in fact during our visit, much to our chagrin, its interior appeared to be outfitted for a concert. At other times, the arena still hosts bullfights.

Built around 100 AD, the arena stands 21 meters tall and has two levels of arcades, each with 60 arches. It is an elliptical structure, 133 meters long and 101 meters wide. In its heyday, it hosted gladiatorial battles. Romans, ever the thoughtful engineers and builders, designed the passageways such that the entire arena could be vacated in something like 5 minutes.

After a good wander through the Arena, with Ian climbing anything he could get away with, we headed on to Maison Carree. The Maison Carree (meaning “square house”) was believed to have been built sometime in the early first century AD (though I’ve seen sources say it was built as early as late 1st century BC). It is one of the best preserved Roman temples in the world. If I’m being honest, I’m not sure I got much out of going inside, but it was included in our ticket price.

Our next walk took us a little further out. The last item on our ticket was the Tour Magne. Apparently Nimes, in the time of the Romans, was surrounded by 80 towers, the tallest of which was Tour Magne. Built around 15 BC, today, it’s the only one still standing.

We walked at least partly through the pretty Jardins de la Fontaine to get there, but even so, it was a sweaty walk. Thankfully Tour Magne was air conditioned, or I may not have made it up the 140 stairs to get to the top. According to signage around the place, in the 12th century, Nostradamus prophesied that there was treasure to be found in the tower (or at least that was the interpretation of his prophecy). After searching, and damaging the tower in the process, nothing was found. The tower was so damaged, in fact, that a central pillar had to be added to reinforce it. The views from the top were indeed lovely.

We had limited options on bus times that would take us out to Pont du Gard, so we needed to abandon any additional sight seeing in favor of finding a quick bite to eat and heading to the bus station. We landed at French fast food chain O’Tacos. You pick the stuffings and sauces for your taco, and they are definitely non-standard, and then the O’Tacos cooks assemble and griddle it right then and there. Their thing is to stuff fries into the taco. It felt like more than I wanted to eat, so I skipped it, but everyone else seemed to really love the addition of fries. Mine had falafel and a handful of toppings and a sauce algerienne that I really loved. Honestly, it was pretty tasty. And we were in and out of the place pretty quickly.

We hoofed it to the bus station and hunted for our bus (number 121). It was a fluke that Sean even found it, I think, but we managed to board more or less just in time for the trip out to Pont du Gard. In my memory the bus-ride, with all its stops, took maybe 45-ish minutes. I’m going to be honest, if I hadn’t found this article about taking the bus to Pont du Gard from Nimes, I’m not sure we’d have known exactly what to do. I think we’d have gotten to the right bus, but where to exit and what to do once you’re there, and more importantly once you want to leave again later on, isn’t always crystal clear.

We started our time at Pont du Gard in their museum. It provides an extremely thorough explanation of the construction, use, and timeline for this marvel of Roman engineering. Pont du Gard is the bridge over the Gardon River that was required to build the 50 km aqueduct that would supply water to the growing city of Nimes. Incredibly, over that distance between its source at the spring in Uzes to its terminus at the Castellum Aquae (water tower) in Nimes, the drop is only 12.30 meters. The bridge section of the aqueduct, which spans 274 meters, only drops 2.5 cm (~1 inch) from one end to the other.

Walking out to Pont du Gard itself was nothing short of breathtaking. The website tells me that at 49 meters tall, this is the “highest Roman aqueduct bridge in the world.” This fact is even more impressive when you realize that It uses no structural mortar. Thanks to the strength of the arch, the precision of the stonemasons, and nothing more or less than gravity, that bridge has stood for nearly 2000 years. Signage in the museum explained that laying the arch stones followed an architectural principle called “the fascination of the void,” intentional use of empty or open space in design. Gravity pulls down on the stacked arch in such a way that the entire arch, once complete, remains stable.

We had wondered what the jutting-out stones were for. Surely with the precision that clearly went into the design and building of this bridge and aqueduct, they weren’t simply sloppy building. Nope; these are bond stones. Again the museum display explained: the bond stones on the bottom provided a place to lean the arch template. The ones on the piers were used to attach scaffolding and other temporary structures.

The aqueduct carried clean water to Nimes for 150 years. Even after that, it carried less clean water to use on farmland and such. All told, it was in use for something like 500 years.

We would like to have gone up to the third level to see the actual aqueduct where water flowed (mortar was used here to help keep the channel from leaking). Alas, this can only be done via a tour. We would happily have paid for a tour but the only English-language tour happened about the time our train was arriving in Nimes that morning. We did consider joining a French language tour, which was available during the time we were there, but ultimately decided to skip it. To see that channel, here’s a very nice Rick Steve’s YouTube video. (It also describes the water tower in Nimes, which we unfortunately didn’t have time to visit.)

The kids (and sweaty grown-ups) would have loved to play in the water in the Gardon River for a while, and I think we would have, if we had more time. Ultimately though, we had just enough time for a quick ice cream back up by the museum and then a bus-ride back to Nimes, where we would finally check into our hotel.

When I was booking, since we wouldn’t even be in Nimes for a full day, I mostly chose the hotel based on location and whether the room would accommodate all four of us. I wound up selecting the Appart’city Nimes Centre – something called an “apart-hotel.” It seemed a little gimmicky to me, but like I said, I didn’t really care all that much.

When we had dropped our bags off earlier, we noticed the building was really beautiful. When we got to our room, we were astonished. For one, we had rooms, plural. And it was easily the largest place we stayed during our entire trip to France. The kids were both delighted, exclaiming on their way in that it looked like a castle. We even had a balcony with a table to sit at, not that there was much time for it.

The clawfoot tub had sort of a shower type apparatus, but if you try to finagle a shower instead of sitting down for a bath, it was a little tough not to get water everywhere. Luckily the stone floors were pretty easy to clean up. I was a little sad we weren’t staying longer.

Since it had been so easy before and since we were all pretty exhausted by this time, we let the kids have O’Tacos again. This time, I sprung for one of their pre-made tacos that was meant to have an Indian vibe. I don’t know that its innards made me think of Indian food, but it was tasty and filling nonetheless.

We spent the rest of our evening bathing and packing and getting ready for another long train trip the next day.

We woke up and finished packing with little fanfare. Our Paris stopover between Disney and Mont St Michel had been so brief, we didn’t really unpack too much. Our train was scheduled to leave Gare Montparnasse at 8:54, and I thought we did a good job of getting ourselves where we needed to be in plenty of time to figure out the giant train station. When we got there though, we were dismayed to discover that our trip had been canceled. Huh. Bad weather I think was the reason.

We chatted with a couple of uniformed employees who gave us conflicting and (to us) uncertain advice. Oh, just take this later train. But how do I know we have seats on the later train? Oh here, you can take this other earlier train. But how do I know which connections will get me where I need to go? I tried logging onto the app I had used to buy the tickets (Rail Europe). It was of the opinion that I was already on my train and well on my way to my intended destination. Which is to say, it didn’t seem to have knowledge that the trip had been canceled.

Could we stay either at the hotel we had just left or the next AirBNB I had booked if we elected to skip all this and stay in Paris this evening (no)? The kids wanted to know what the plan was. Heck, we wanted to know what the plan was.

Eventually, we regrouped a little and talked to one more person to see if they could point us in the right direction. This employee took a little more time with us. He explained that our tickets would work on the (much) later train. No, we didn’t technically have seats on this train, but many of the seats are unassigned anyway. Plus, since it was so late in the day, it was less likely to be crowded with Mont St Michel tourists. We were skeptical, but it seemed like the best option (and also, we really did want to see it).

We puttered around the train station, because by this point we didn’t want to have to try to figure out how to store our bags and find something to do for an hour or two. Sean went and bought the kids McDonald’s and then he found an empanada joint and bought the grownups some lunch. And then, we waited till our 1:54p train was to leave. We found it with little problem, but having no idea if we were sitting in seats that were technically assigned to someone else caused us a lot of anxiety. We had found a table (like I had reserved on the canceled trip), but then moments later discovered the seats belonged to someone else.

Eventually we found a couple seats for the kids, but Sean and I kinda sat in the jump seats near the luggage area for a while till enough people exited the train that we could find seats to sit in. Would someone come by to claim these seats too? I guess we’d wait and see.

The ticket controllers did come through, and they verified that yes our morning tickets were good for this trip too, no problem. Our original fare included bus transfer from Pontorson station to Mont St Michel. That was no longer an option this late in the day, but the nice ticket controller explained to us there was another bus we could take and gave us that schedule (I had it anyway, because I thought it was the bus we’d use to get back to Pontorson station the next day.)

At long, long last, many hours later than we had originally planned, we walked into Mont St Michel, travel-weary but relieved. Even as tired as we were, seeing Mont St Michel loom in front of us as we rode the bus up to it was amazing. Getting out and completing our walk into town was epic. The tide was out, so we didn’t really get the “rising up from the sea” view, but it was by far the tallest thing around, so it stood command over the surroundings. The sea breeze was a bit crisp, which was delightful after our sweaty past couple days, and I think it helped perk all of us up a bit.

We had missed our 3:00 entrance to the famous abbey at the top of the mont by several hours (in fact it was essentially closed by the time we got there), but we thought we might explain the situation in the morning and see if they’d let us in.

I had contacted our hotel earlier to let them know that our train was canceled, and we’d be arriving later, so they had someone available to check us in (we arrived well after posted check-in hours). By this point, most of our dining options were closed, so we simply ate dinner in our hotel’s restaurant, which turned out to be … fine. Given our very late arrival and very short time the next day, had it been available, I’d have opted for a quick dinner. Alas, we had the typical French 1.5-2 hour experience. Luckily, we were very far north and the sun set pretty late.

I won’t lie, after dinner, it was nigh on magical walking around an all-but-empty Mont St Michel. Most of the shops were closed, but I at least am not a big shopper anyway. Wandering the relatively empty medieval streets was a good tradeoff in my opinion. Much to Maya and Ian’s delight, there were chatty seagulls everywhere. We were astonished at the variety of sounds they made. And we saw seagull chicks – a first for us. They were fluffy and gray and slightly speckled and blended in very nicely with the rooftops and nests.

Maya and Ian were ready for a change of scenery anyway. Here they could tromp up and down the streets and pretend they were in a Harry Potter movie. We wandered around for a good hour or so, even managing to catch the pink sun setting into the western sea (around 10:00).

We were hoping to catch interesting photos of Mont St Michel lit up at night, and from a distance, so we could get some of the sea around it. We went back to the hotel and fetched our jackets and started to head out.

We had noticed a gathering of some kind near the entrance to Mont St Michel, but we figured it was just a tour group and didn’t think much of it. And then they lit their torches. I haven’t been able to figure out just exactly what that was all about, but it seemed peaceful enough. They were marching away from the Mont, torches held high, possibly singing, I can’t remember. Maya, given her aversion to fire, was supremely unimpressed, so we boarded the parking shuttle bus and then exited again further away from the Mont. This was a lovely spot to gaze back at Mont St Michel, though there weren’t as many lights in the buildings as some photos had led us to believe there would be.

We doodled around long enough that the fire-bearers were getting closer and Maya panicked. We hopped on the shuttle bus again, thinking we would ride it out to the parking lot and then shuttle back to the Mont again, and we’d deftly avoid the people carrying torches and offending Maya’s sensibilities. I was trying to figure out how late the shuttle ran (till midnight during high season) but Maya was in a fizz, so we just ran for it and boarded before it left.

It stopped in the parking lot at 11. And that’s where it stayed. The driver explained to us they were done for the night. June, it turns out, is not in high season. We spent somewhere between 45 minutes and an hour hoofing it all the way from the parking lot back to our hotel. It was a pretty walk, especially once we got onto the bridge over to the island, but my tired and stress-weary body truly could have done without it. But hey, at least Maya didn’t have to suffer the torches.

We woke the next morning early enough to get all packed up and out the door with plenty of time to eat before the Abbaye du Mont St Michel opened at 9. Alas, nothing was open! It was nearly 8:30 or so before we found a place that would sell us a few pastries (and me a coffee). No worries, we plowed through our food while we got in line to beg entrance into the Abbey. Luckily, they sent us through ticketing and the kind people there issued us new tickets for that morning instead.

The Abbaye du Mont St Michel (Mont St Michel Abbey) has been around for hundreds of years. While the “legend of Mont St Michel” begins in the year 708 with the archangel Michael coming to Bishop Aubert in a dream and telling me to build a shrine to him, the church as it stands today began construction in 1023. It became a significant pilgrimage site thereafter.

Interestingly, it became a prison for a while from the 17th century to 1863. The website credits its use as a prison with having saved it from complete destruction, however, it did leave the site in bad shape. In 1874, it was declared a historical site and a period of restoration commenced, and continues today. From that time on, tourists have been welcomed at the site.

The Abbey is an amazing structure. I still laugh a little at how much of our time on Mont St Michel was spent looking upward. The way the Abbey is set up for tourist visits, there’s a very clear route that you walk through to see all the points of interest, and had we had more time, we’d have lingered longer. As it was, we looked through a goodly amount of the structure, and then had to kind of high tail it through the rest on our way to fetch our bags from the hotel and catch our bus back to the train station.

I do wish we had had more time to linger in the Abbey, but all in all, I thought our visit to Mont St Michel was pretty special. I’m glad we stayed overnight too. The original notion was that it would allow us to experience the site without the crowds. But it ultimately allowed us to avoid cancellation altogether. Thankfully, it is not a large place and could easily be traversed in the evening after dinner, and enjoyed again in the early morning light for a bit the next day.

In stark contrast to our travel to Mont St Michel the day prior, we had no trouble at all catching our bus to Pontorson Station, then taking our regional train from Pontorson to Rennes, and then finally getting to take the fancy high speed TGV train from Rennes back to Paris.

The is was our first TGV train and it was absolutely delightful. We had assigned seats at a table for four. The kids had wifi. We could power our devices. Sean and Ian went to the bar car and ordered food and sodas for all of us (it was fine, nothing to write home about, but definitely convenient). I had a window seat and was happy as a clam to watch the scenery zip by at speeds reportedly as high as 320 km per hour (around 200 miles per hour). About the time I could get the words, “Oh look, a castle!” out, the castle was already gone from view.

We were heading back for our last small jaunt through Paris. Maya especially, but probably all of us, appreciated having a break from the hustle and bustle, even if it wasn’t even for a full 24 hours. Ending that break with trouble-free transportation was just a bonus.

We were up bright and early again to make use of our extra magic hour, which allowed us to enter Disneyland Paris an hour before the masses. Today’s first goal, meeting the kids approval, was Star Wars Hyperspace Mountain.

But first we had to make it through the park, whose gorgeous gardens, buildings, and statuary invited you to stop and take photos about every meter or two. We did eventually make it over there, and I don’t remember there really being much of a wait at all before we were hurtling through the darkness of space. I enjoyed it well enough, but it was maybe a little too dark. I feel like they could have done more with the Star Wars theming to enhance the notion that you were in space in the middle of a laser battle.

We next went to Buzz Lightyear Laser Blast. Not unlike the Spiderman ride yesterday, you were in a little ride vehicle and each person was shooting. This time, my spamming technique failed me. I am not super duper sure what my gun was pointing at, but apparently it wasn’t the targets. Oh well, cute ride anyway.

Like Disneyland in California, you can go in the castle here as well. In Disneyland Paris though, the castle is larger and to be honest, much prettier. This is Sleeping Beauty’s castle (Le Château de la Belle au Bois Dormant), and with its picturesque turrets, interesting landscaping, and waterfall action, it’s a princess-castle-kid’s dream.

We went inside to see Aurora’s gallery (La Galerie de la Belle au Bois Dormant). In this pleasant little walk-through, we got to see the Sleeping Beauty fairy tale re-told. There were wall hangings, stained glass, suits of armor, and book-pages depicting the story.

Next, we went down to the dungeons to find what was lurking there. The Dragon’s Lair (La Taniere du Dragon) is dark and dreary and at one point, as your old eyes are working to see where you’re walking, you come across a huge animatronic dragon snoozing in the gloom. But he doesn’t snooze for long. Whether its irritation over being trapped down there or over the hordes of people coming to ogle him, he gets a little huffy if you give him a moment. He legit terrified some of the littler kids too – be warned.

We had gotten a lot of good stuff done before the crowds got too thick, so since we hadn’t had breakfast yet, we opted to go get some pastries (and Mom a coffee) before we hit our next attraction. The line was slooooow and our magic hour was over before we made our way through it.

But even so, the wait wasn’t too long to visit Pirates of the Caribbean, which is really too bad because it was so damn dark in the queue that rushing through it (because there really was no big line) was an exercise in faith. The ride itself was loads of fun. There were good drops and fun theming, and as always I love the Captain Jack Sparrow animatronic.

After this, we went to ride the Indiana Jones and the Temple of Peril roller coaster. I love Indiana Jones, and I really wanted to love this ride. It was fun enough to look at, but the ride was maybe a little dull. And to make up for its dullness, it chose to beat me up a little with its turning and bouncing.

Finally, we lined up for Phantom Manor, Disneyland Paris’s version of Haunted Mansion. We were told this one was scarier than the ones in Orlando and Anaheim, and I suppose it was. Sean’s thought was that it wasn’t necessarily scarier, but it was definitely less silly. Maya and Ian are older now. Or rather, they’re too old to feel genuine little-kid nervousness and too young to squelch the eye-rolling, ditch the cynicism, and let the feeling sweep you away anyway. For my part, I enjoyed the ride well enough. The mansion grounds, like the rest of the park, are very pretty.

We had been enjoying pleasantly mild weather through our vacation thus far. That officially ended today. On this day, it got hot, sweaty-hot, sorry-we-brought-the-Texas-heat-to-France hot. (And poor France, I hear it got even hotter after we went back home!)

After wandering through an Aladdin-themed walk-through attraction (Le Passage Enchanté d’Aladdin) wherein we saw marvelous sets depicting scenes from the movie, we got ourselves situated for the 11:30a parade (Disney Stars on Parade). We were near the castle, in full-sun, and in a crush of people, sweating buckets. And still, the parade was amazing. I’ve said it before: Disney doesn’t do anything halfway. The floats and the costumed characters were all-in. I can’t imagine how hot some of those cast members must have been in their outfits. Each passing float was more amazing than the last, with the most amazing (to me) being the animatronic fire-breathing dragon. Not that we needed more heat, but it was impressive to behold nonetheless.

The Woodses needed to cool down a little, so we went inside to wait in line to ride what in my notes is “the seven dwarfs ride” but in the park is Blanche-Neige et les Sept Nains. This is a standard dark ride, presenting you with scenes from the story. Nothing particularly thrilling, but definitely nostalgic. Plus it gave us a little break from being on our feet!

We popped into Toad Hall after this. It’s technically a restaurant, and we did buy the kids some Mickey bars there, but Sean has an extreme soft spot for Mr Toad’s Wild Ride, and the decor in this place was amazing, right down to Mr Toad’s suit of armor.

This kids were sufficiently sugared up, but Mom and Dad needed some calories to carry us through the afternoon. We had noticed the day before that the smart folks fetched food and *then* went and got themselves into a line to watch a show. We stopped by Main Street Deli to fetch the grownups some quick croque monsieurs (decadent French ham and cheese sandwiches) and then lined up for The Lion King: Rhythms of the Pride Lands.

The sandwiches were very filling (and messy), but we managed to get them eaten before being seated for the show. It was nice and cool in the theater, and everyone, kids included, seemed to enjoy the singing, dancing, acrobatic spectacle of it all. Maya did mention that it had been so long since she’d seen The Lion King, that she’d forgotten the story, a situation we rectified upon returning to Texas.

After our nice, cool rest, we stood in a very hot and slow moving line to attend a “Mysterious Meeting” with Mickey dressed in his lovely Phantom Manor outfit. The nice cast member controlling the line did his level best to hit us with his little electric fan, but there’s no denying the wait was a bit sticky. Mickey was twenty minutes on and ten minutes off, and I believe they may have changed out the cast member donning the Mickey costume each time. We watched as the charming and attentive Mickey interacted with would-be genuine delight as he met his legions of fans. We were next in line, and he had to have a break (understandable, in that heat). The Mickey who came back, while beautifully outfitted, seemed like he was kinda going through the motions a little bit. Oh well, win some, lose some.

We needed cold drinks and the kids needed cookies after this (are you noticing that Maya and Ian basically lived on sugar this day?), and after securing those, we got in line for It’s a Small World. This is the longish boat ride through all the little costumed animatronic dolls singing “It’s a Small World” in their native languages. While I don’t think the facade can compare to the one in Anaheim, the front of this building is eye-catching, to be sure. [Sean: While technically the there are a couple of dolls representing the United States in the American parks, it was interesting to see a full US section in the Paris park. Apparently we are either farmers, football players or Hollywood stars.]

Next, we wound up picking up pretzels and crepes for the kids to snack on (for my part, I was still full from my sandwich earlier). Then we zipped over to snag our 3D “opera glasses” and be seated essentially just in time for the next Mickey’s PhilharMagic show to start. It’s a short and pleasant little show during which Donald gets a hold of Mickey’s conductor baton and misadventures ensue. [Sean: I said it for the Walt Disney World post and I will say it here. RIP, Magic Journeys.]

After the show, we took a quick ride in Star Tours: The Adventures Continue. I know this one is tame, but for some reason I really like this ride. Possibly it’s because the C-3PO animatronic hits all kinds of nostalgia buttons for me. I don’t know. This is a motion simulator ride, zinging you through the Star Wars universe, and it’s just … fun!

We headed to Alice’s Curious Labyrinth to wander for a bit and see what we could find. The hedge maze is well-maintained, and Alice and her friends (and foes) are tucked into every dead and corner. There’s a really excellent garden arranged to look like the Chesire Cat. You ultimately wind up in the Queen of Hearts’s castle, which provides a nice lookout over the land.

After the labyrinth, I sat and rested while Sean and the kids hit Star Wars Hyperspace Mountain again. Then we all rode Pirates of the Caribbean again. We watched them running empty cars for Big Thunder Mountain. Sean was very disappointed that this ride was not open for us to ride. Apparently the one in Disneyland Paris is one of the best versions. The ride re-opened on June 21st.

Sean also had been wanting to check out the Paris version of the boat ride through Storybook Land (Le Pays des Contes de Fees), but every time we went by, it was closed, with its reopening time uncertain. We even sent cute, extroverted Ian over to ask, but they wouldn’t tell him either.

Sean had booked us an 8:00 dinner reservation at Walt’s – an American Restaurant. Why go to an American restaurant in Paris? Well, for one, this is a theme park and maybe not my go-to for any kind of authentic experience. But also, the restaurant is interesting in that it showcases art and items from Walt Disney’s life. Sean tells me that some of the menu items were favorites of his. Maya had more pea soup on this visit (as did Sean and I). [Sean: Walt’s Chili, albeit a deconstructed version, was a winner.]

We thought we would kill time shopping for souvenirs between our dinner and the evening fireworks show, but we noticed that people were already lining up to get good spots for that show, so we followed suit. The wait was long for the “Disney Tales of Magic,” but the kids did pretty well, and the show was amazing. The backdrop was, of course, the castle. Digital projections, fireworks, jets of water, and plumes of fire punctuated the musical score. The drone show was the big scene-stealer though. I don’t think we’ve ever watched a drone show before, and the coordination and choreography were amazing.

It was very, very late when we walked back to our hotel, and we had a full morning planned. This is, I think, where we started to refactor our day the next day. I had (sanely, I thought, at planning time), booked a late lunch reservation at a “bistronomique” restaurant. The notion was that it would push our kids’ a little palate-wise, but it wasn’t all frou-frou like I figured a Michelin-starred restaurant would be. In examining our very tired kids, knowing that we had Disney things to do in the morning, and knowing I had the Louvre booked for that evening, we ultimately canceled our fancy lunch reservation.

We woke the next morning, got completely packed, dropped our backpacks off with luggage services, and headed into Disneyland Paris again for our character breakfast at the Plaza Gardens Restaurant. Maya didn’t have a lot of requests on this trip, but she had told Sean she’d like to go to a character meal while she was there. She is a big kid, but she’ll tell you that sometimes she still enjoys “little kid things.”

It was a huge buffet breakfast, and I wish I had been hungrier, because there were many lovely breakfast options. There were standard breakfast things, pastries, bacon, etc, but there were also lovely spreads of cured meats, sausages, and cheeses. Plenty of fresh fruit was offered as well. As you ate, characters came through the building and you could get up to say hello to them and have your photo taken with them. Sean wanted to meet Tigger and Eeyore. The kids didn’t have any particular demands, but they seemed happy to meet whoever came by.

Eeyore was a tough one though. We had to clear out for the next seating of guests, but they hauled Eeyore out before he got to us saying, “he’ll be back soon.” We figured that meant for the next seating. Then he came out, but across the building. We went over to see him and were told to go back to our seats. He did eventually make it over to us, but it was kind of confusing in the meantime. I will say though, these cast-members seemed to occupy their costumes with intention, spending time in-character with delighted guests, young and old. {Sean: Thanks for noticin’ me Eeyore.]

We thought we’d finally get to visit Storybook Land, but alas, it didn’t open till 11, and even that we had learned not to trust. So instead, we lined up to ride Les Voyages de Pinocchio, since we hadn’t the day before. After that, we shopped for our ears and any pins and things people wanted, not really knowing where we’d ultimately store them in our backpacks.

And just like that, our time at Disney was over. We walked back to our hotel, picked up our backpacks from luggage storage, and boarded the bus to the train station. Our train ride back into Paris was uneventful. Plus, since our train car was full of boisterous Italian tourists, for a change, we didn’t even bother urging the kids to keep their voices low (as the French folks do).

We got up very early and hauled our backpacks to the metro station to take the RER A train all the way to Disneyland. The Disneyland parks are about 40 km east of Paris, but the train takes you right from the city. Because we were so early, we didn’t have too much contention for train space with our big backpacks.

Sean had set up a service ahead of time whereby we could drop off our bags for storage at the train station, and they would magically be delivered to our hotel while we went ahead to line up for magic hours at our first park, Walt Disney Studios Park.

We did the standard (or what I am now thinking of as standard) Disney thing where once “rope drop” happens, we immediately hustle to get in line for the popular ride whose line would become ridiculous as the day progressed. In this case, that meant we made a mad rush over to Crush’s Coaster (though less mad than others – we did a fast walk, but we saw one dude trucking at a full sprint). Evidently, if you don’t hit It early, the ride develops a 90-120 minute wait time for the rest of the day.

The coaster itself was fun. Like Time Traveler in Silver Dollar City, the four-person car spins as you ride, so for any given hill, loop, or turn, you may experience it forward, backward, or anywhere in between.

After this, since the wait was short, we made our way into the always eye-popping Worlds of Pixar part of the park, which Maya particularly loves, to ride RC Racer. In this area, the giant, brightly-hued toys tower over you. The “you-are-amongst-the-toys” feel was carried through the RC Racer ride line. In several locations, there were what looked like the pop-apart pieces of model cars hanging on the walls. I remember trying to build those things as a kid, and couldn’t help but chuckle.

The RC Racer ride is a tall (25-meter) half-pipe coaster that you ride in a giant RC car. Atypical of Disney, you have to stow your bags for this ride. As the keeper of important documents on this trip, this made me a little apprehensive, but all was well. And the ride was more fun than it should have been for something that just goes back and forth.

Because our time seemed short and because Paris is further away than Orlando, when we were planning this trip, Sean had considered paying for “Premier Access” which would have allowed us to get into shorter lines at many of the rides. For our family of four, it would have run several hundred dollars per day, so we ultimately decided to skip it. Thankfully, we found that we didn’t really need it. Again, this is during the week, and in June before the French kids get out of school for the summer, so mid-July on a Saturday may be a different story.

We found that the wait was relatively short for the Twilight Zone Tower of Terror, so we headed over that way. Inexplicably, daredevil Maya didn’t want to ride it right away, and neither she nor Sean and I were comfortable letting her wait alone, so I sat with her while Sean and Ian rode. Maya and I sat and watched a couple of mallard ducks, a male and a female, putter in and around a flower bed, gently asking random park-goers for food. Mrs. Mallard even waddled her way over to us at one point, but changed her mind when she found out we were empty-handed.

By all accounts, Ian and Sean enjoyed their ride. The storyline is a little different in this ride than the ones in the US, featuring a little girl haunting the wonky elevator and seeming to warn you of a more ominous threat. Ian, budding horror enthusiast that he is, seemed to love it.

We had just a little time to kill before our lunch reservation, so we bopped over to ride Slinky Dog Zig Zag Spring. There’s no arguing this ride appeals to a younger crowd, and was maybe a little short on thrills, but it was a pleasant enough way to pass the time.

Sean had booked us the first seating for lunch at Bistrot Chez Remy, of Ratatouille fame. The aesthetic at this place was off the charts. It was so … cute! Just like the ride, you’re approaching from the perspective of a rat, and the decor is comprised of “found objects” that have ostensibly been repurposed into restaurant furnishings. The place is lit by Christmas twinkle lights strung across the ceiling. Our chairs were the cages that hold on champagne corks. Booths were backed with dinner plates and there was a giant wine bottle (from Anton Ego’s brand, naturally).

The food was fine. I enjoyed my pate en croute and my fish with buttery sauce and ratatouille. Maya discovered she liked pea soup, and helped Ian out with his when he discovered he did not like pea soup. Sean’s dessert was so adorable though. It came out looking like a wedge of holey cheese with raspberry sauce decorating the plate to look like a rat with whiskers. The cheese wedge itself was actually a white cheese mousse.

After lunch, we got into line to ride Remy’s Ratatouille. This is a cute ride where you’re shrunk to the size of a rat, and you scurry through a busy kitchen trying to avoid detection. It’s not unique to this park, but it’s a fun ride nonetheless. [Sean: But it did originate at this park. However, in Paris it is only a 2D ride while in EPCOT it is a 3D ride so Orlando gets the win here.]

By this point, the kids were jonesing for thrills, so we made our way over to Avengers Assemble: Flight Force (which I have in my notes as “Avengers launch coaster”). Sean tells me this is just a rebranded version of the Aerosmith Rockin’ Roller Coaster in Hollywood Studios in Florida. [Sean: Which will date this post as Disney has announced that Rockin’ Roller Coaster will be rethemed to the Muppets early 2026. Small solace for closing Muppet*Vision 3D to make the Monsters Inc land.] The ride line was a lot of fun with a really excellent Iron Man animatronic. The ride itself was good. The launch was fun and breathtaking in the way that launches are. I won’t lie though, the ride beat me up a little. Maya and Ian loved it.

It’s good they were satisfied because next we went to a couple shows that Sean especially wanted to see. The kids grumbled a bit about them, but came around once the shows started and the kids realized they would be fun.

First we went to see Mickey and the Magician. The idea is that Mickey, the apprentice magician, must clean up his teacher’s study. Hijinks ensue, and while they’re ensuing, a whole pile of beloved characters make an appearance to help Mickey out. There’s singing and dancing. We were a little curious what language would be the primary one spoken during these shows. During parts of this performance, the dialogue between two characters was often half in English and half in French, with each native speaker in the audience left to infer or interpret to the best of their abilities. I honestly thought it worked really well to keep the pacing and the storyline flowing.

After this, we bought ourselves treats (for Sean and I, this probably meant sodas), and enjoyed those before heading over to load up in bleacher seats for Alice and the Queen of Hearts, Back to Wonderland (Alice et la Reine de Cœur: Retour au Pays des Merveilles). This show can only be described, I think, as EXTRA. The stage was amazing. The costumes were brilliant. As the storyline was progressing (who do you love, Alice or the Queen?), acrobats thrilled on trampolines and BMX-style bikes. It was a lot to take in, but highly, highly entertaining. Audience participation in the form of call-and-response was encouraged, and I think the kids had a really good time. I know that I did.

Maya and Ian had done enough sitting. They wanted to ride the launch coaster again. I sat out and drank water, while Sean took the kids to again ride Avengers Assemble: Flight Force. Since we were in the area, we rode the Web Slingers attraction. Maya taught me ages ago not to bother aiming on these rides, that I should just spam it instead. This ride “sees” you fling your arm like you’re casting a spider web and registers that as a projectile. I’m sure I looked like a lunatic, randomly shooting webs more or less in the direction of would-be targets. I didn’t pay any real attention to score. I had no goal. And I think I got the high score in our family (fear not; I’d get the low score later on). This method isn’t reliable, but when it works, it works well.

We closed out our Disney day by riding Tower of Terror again, this time with all four of us. I am kinda meh on drop rides, but the Tower of Terror ride, with its interesting storyline and its randomized ups and downs is much more fun.

We exited the park and walked through Disney Village, the retail and dining area adjacent to the Disney Parks. You don’t need admission to visit Disney Village – anyone can spend their hard-earned euros there. We were walking through the area on our way to our hotel, and while we had not yet checked in and our luggage was in storage (airtags confirmed), it was getting late, so we decided it would be prudent to eat first. Sean had a place all picked out, Brasserie Rosalie.

Ian is our extrovert, so he bonjour-ed the host when we walked in, who proceeded to respond in French. Ian then did his best, “je ne parle pas francais” (I don’t speak French), to which the host chuckled and responded in English with an “I don’t either!” and walked us to our table. He explained that, “Mon collegue speaks English.”

We proceeded to have a very pleasant, if longer-than-desired, meal. Lingering over a meal, enjoying the courses and the company, is part of French culture, and I can certainly appreciate that. But we were flat out exhausted by this point and probably could have done with a more concise dining experience. The food was delicious though.

We did eventually make it to our hotel, the Sequoia Lodge, a “retreat inspired by the great American National Parks.” Everything was still open for us to check in and to retrieve our luggage. Our room was comfortable enough, and we crashed pretty hard, knowing we’d have to wake up early for our next Disney day.

We were originally planning to visit Paris for our 20th wedding anniversary, back in 2020. At the time, we thought it would be a trip for two for maybe a week. We had halfway arranged it so the two sets of grandparents could split the week and transfer the kiddos halfway through. We had ideas. Then the pandemic happened, and we mostly just stayed home.

Now, in 2025, we decided to take the trip for our 25th wedding anniversary instead and make it a family trip. After months of on-again, off-again planning, in early June, we were finally on our way.

Or were we? We were set to leave on a Friday afternoon. We woke up Friday morning to find that our flight out of Austin was delayed over an hour. This would shorten our connection time in Philadelphia to less than an hour, and we weren’t feeling great about that. We looked a bit and found an earlier flight between Austin and Philly. It was pretty full, and we wouldn’t be able to sit together. And it would result in something like a four and a half hour layover in Philly, but it seemed like the safest option, so we made the change.

Unfortunately, this meant we had to kind of hustle our last minute packing. We got to the airport and found that the airport lots were all full, so we used an offsite lot. Ultimately, we made it onto our flight and all was well. I talked a nice man into swapping seats with me so that Maya wouldn’t have to sit on her own (which she was very uncomfortable with), and we made it to Philly without incident.

Our overnight flight between Philadelphia and Paris was fine. I think it was around 7 hours long and they fed us at least twice, so it was a little hard to get much sleep in, but we all tried.

Day 1 – Saturday – Arrival, Covered Passages, Richelieu Library, Petit Palais

Our flight arrived at Charles de Gaulle airport on schedule, maybe even a touch early. We had zero trouble going through passport control. Since we had an under-12-year-old in our group, we got to go through a separate line, but even if we hadn’t, the line didn’t look too bad. We had a plan to fetch the RER B train right into town and transfer to the metro to our first AirBNB.

We walked alllllll the way to the train station in the airport (they called it the aerogare – “gare” means train station). Upon arrival at the entrance to the aerogare, we saw a giant sign explaining that our train was not running – transportation strike. Some vague instructions were provided referencing a bus line to take instead. I tried to do some quick research to make sense of it, but ultimately, we decided to just take an Uber. I had read that an Uber from the airport into town can cost 60-70 euros. We got one for half of that. Now, that poor driver took I think an hour and twenty minutes to get us to our apartment; no fault of his, the traffic was awful. I suspect the rail line and metro would have cut that time in half … you know, if the train had been running.

Our AirBNB host allowed us to drop off our bags and collect our key while they finished readying the apartment. The nice woman who met us spoke mostly French. I was pretty tired by this point, and even though I knew how to ask her questions in French and respond to her French questions in French, my addled brain would produce nothing. We transacted in gestures and half-understood phrases. Either way, luggage was left and keys were acquired. This worked well for us, because our plan for coping with jet lag was to keep ourselves moving, out in the light as much as possible, at least till after dinner.

We started off by walking to Au Pied de Cochon for lunch. We all found food we wanted to eat and ordering wasn’t too complicated. We were learning already though that you had better make up your mind quickly on the food if you want to get your order in. Otherwise, you could sit quite a while before the waitstaff came by again to take your order. This would have been fine for Sean and I, but Ian and Maya took a bit longer to work out the menu and what they might like. For this first meal, I’m remembering Sean winning with a really gorgeous steak tartare. Ian had moules mariniere, Maya had some kind of fried fish (I think), and I had some sort of slow cooked meat. I don’t remember the particulars, other than that we enjoyed our meal. They did present us with cute little piggy-shaped meringues to enjoy at the end of the meal. (Ian discovered he likes meringues!)

We set off next to see a couple of the famous Paris covered passages (passages couverts). In the early 19th century, these passages couverts were placed to encourage wealthy clientele to wander and shop while protected from the weather and grime of the city. As I understand it, clocks are often prominent in these passages so the patrons would know when to meet their coaches.

These glass-topped structures are bright and airy and house a unique assemblage of shops. I expect if we hadn’t been so tired, we’d have browsed a little more than we did. Alas, we were mostly just following the plan and trying to stay engaged. We first wandered through Passage du Grand Cerf and then we meandered over to the stunning Galerie Vivienne. I’ll be honest, just wandering through the passages felt very French to me. We definitely weren’t in central Texas anymore.

We chose to head over to the Bibliothèque Nationale de France’s Richelieu location. Built in the 17th century, originally as a palace, this is now one of the French national libraries, and it is gorgeous. Sean and I could have grabbed a couple books about French art or architecture and sat down and browsed for a while, but the kids needed movement. Instead we wandered around and gawked at the famous oval room (La Salle Ovale). The oval room was opened to readers in May of 1935. It’s huge – 43.7 meters by 32.8 meters and 18 meters high. It is free of charge for anyone to enter and sit down and read a while.

One of the things we enjoyed about the walking instructions that Apple or Google supplied us with while in Paris was that they didn’t strictly stick to the streets, often cutting through beautiful gardens and building breezeways instead. And that’s how we found ourselves accidentally wandering through the Palais Royale area, which I had half-intended to see on a different day. We were in no particular hurry and the weather was glorious, so we spent some time in the courtyard staring at little sailboats on a pond and playing on the famous striped columns.

Les Colonnes de Buren were evidently installed in 1985. From what I’ve read, all the columns “take root” in the basement and extend to various heights in the courtyard. The kids, particularly Ian, had fun trying to see how tall of a column they could successfully summit. Maya did the same thing, but I don’t think it was fun for her. She simply wanted – needed – to prove that she could do it.

My memory is pretty hazy given the depth of sleep deprivation on that day, but we may have stopped in at a metro station and picked up our Navigo Easy cards at this point. It was absolutely maddening. We waited in one line to purchase our cards. This machine apparently had run out of cards to dispense, so instead it spit out a voucher that we had to take to another line to actually collect the physical cards. THEN we had to wait in the first line again to load trips onto the card. Why didn’t we just put them on our phones, you ask? Because each person needs their own “card” and the kids don’t both have phones yet. Why didn’t we pick up the weekly unlimited use card instead, you ask? Because that card specifically covers a period from Monday to Sunday. This was Saturday. We’d have had to buy a new weeklong pass on Monday. Also our Paris visit (as you will see) was broken into chunks. The Navigo Easy pass was the best choice for us.

We ended our day at the Petit Palais. On Saturday, Petit Palais has late hours, staying open till 8:00 (20:00). Also, the beautiful art museum contained therein is free to visit. Sadly, the gardens were closed for restoration, but we were able to wander around inside for as long or as little as we chose. For that first day, I really didn’t want to schedule anything big. Mostly the goal was to keep us occupied so we could get a little dose of Paris and start to adapt to our new time zone.

In our wandering around near Petit Palais, we happened by the Jeff Koons Bouquet of Tulips sculpture. This is not our first Koons sighting, having seen his Balloon Dog (Blue) at The Broad in Los Angeles previously. While in Paris viewing the Bouquet of Tulips, we believed it to simply be a light-hearted piece of art. However, on looking at it at post-writing time, apparently it was given to France in commemoration of the people who died in the terrorist attacks in 2015. Evidently, the bouquet of a dozen tulips only has eleven, with the missing tulip meant to represent the victims.

The four tired Woodses took the metro back to our apartment. Sean and I let the kids veg out a little bit while we walked to a nearby pizza place to fetch a couple pizzas. We learned how to ask for something to go, “a emporter?” and took our humble haul back to the apartment for a quick dinner. We quickly reset wakeup expectations for the next day (I’m an overachiever on vacation, but I’m also a realist), and were swiftly to sleep.

Day 2 – Sunday – Marche Bastille, Musee D’Orsay, Arc de Triomphe

The jet lagged Woodses got a late start this morning. Luckily nothing was scheduled till the afternoon. Paris is famous for its open-air markets, so we decided to hit the Sunday market, Marche Bastille. After exiting the metro, we accidentally headed down a flea-market-like street, where Ian’s inner shopper sprung to life. Once we realized our mistake and wanted to head to the actual market, we had to drag him away from that scene so we could make it there and find ourselves a late breakfast.

Maya and I had some galettes that featured a zaatar spice and tangy sauce and was filled with falafel. Sean and Ian went hunting for food they wanted. Sean wound up with a ham, potato, Emmental, and raclette galette, and Ian wound up with a Nutella crepe. After we ate, we took a little spin through the market. There was gorgeous fresh produce, seafood, meats, cheese and so many handmade and cooked-on-site foods. I would have liked to purchase any number of delicious food items to haul back to our apartment, but thanks to the lateness with which we started and our side quest through the flea markets, we didn’t really have a lot of time.

Instead we wandered up through Place des Vosges in search of some of Paris’s famous thick hot chocolate. One of Carette’s locations is in Place des Vosges, and so we thought we’d pop in for a hot chocolate. Alas, the line was so terrifically long, there was no way we would get seated and enjoy our chocolate in time to make our first timed museum of the day.

Instead, we took a little time to visit Maison Victor Hugo. This is found right in Place des Vosges and its main exhibits are free to enter. Victor Hugo, probably most famous for Les Miserables and The Hunchback of Notre Dame, lived in Paris for quite a time. The maison (house) is now a museum, showing art, decor, and furnishings.

We metroed over to Musee d’Orsay for our 1:30p (13:30) timed entry. This is a more manageably sized museum than the Louvre, so just to see if we would like them, I sprung for audio guides at this location. Housed in what used to be a train station, the museum has a glass-topped central area that is huge and open. Various floors of side rooms are organized by time period. After absorbing art for an hour or so, we stopped in and had late lunch at Cafe Campana inside the museum, which I thought would be fun because the restaurant features one of the museum’s big see-through clocks. The meal was fine, and we were able to sit for a bit, which was nice given how much walking we’d done. We again had the experience that if you weren’t Johnny on the spot with your ordering, you may wait a while to see a server again.

After lunch, we finished out our museum visit, filled with artists you’ve definitely heard of and paintings and sculptures you’d definitely recognize. Afterward, we headed out to Place de la Concorde, thinking we’d wander around and see the pretty scenery there and at Pont Alexander III. Alas, the area was a complete madhouse. Sections of it were blocked off to enable a televised tennis match, I think. The French folks seemed to be very happy, so their players must have been doing well.

We had a long walk down iconic Champs-Elysees. A lot of people poo-poo this walk, griping that it’s a glorified shopping mall. And I suppose they aren’t wrong – I wouldn’t want to visit this street to shop for authentic French goods. But, there is something amazing about seeing that long, clear stretch to Arc de Triomphe from a distance and watching it loom larger and larger as you approach. Also many of the shops along Champs-Elysees are a little “extra,” and while I’m not a shopper, it was still fascinating.

The Arc de Triomphe was commissioned by Napoleon in 1805. As it took 30 years to build and Napoleon died in 1821, he never got to see the finished product. Famously, in 1919, French pilot Charles Godefroy flew a biplane through the arc, a gesture commemorating the end of World War I. The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, which lies beneath the arc, was inaugurated in 1920. Equipped with an eternal flame (much to Maya’s chagrin), it stands as a memorial to soldiers who lost their lives during “The Great War,” whose names remain unknown. It is said that out of respect, all military processions pass around the arc, not through it.

We had timed entry to Arc de Triomphe at 7:10 (19:10). As we approached, we saw a uniformed band playing. I looked it up; turns out it was for the National Day of Tribute to the Dead for France in Indochina.

After passing through the monument’s security, we walked the 284 steps up the spiral staircase to the tippy top of the 50 meter tall monument and were treated to a very nice breeze and some stunning views of the city. We had good line of sight to the Eiffel Tower, got a nice shot of Sacre Couer, and had a gorgeous unobstructed view of the area of Paris where most of the skyscrapers are. Interestingly (to me, at least), one feature of that very modern skyline was La Grande Arche de La Defense. Built in the 80s, it’s a modern mirror of its 1800s-era counterpart.

By then, it was pretty late, so I hunted up things in our neighborhood that would be open late. We settled on a local place called Tata Burger, which the kids seemed happy with. The folks at the restaurant were extremely kind to us, and we actually had a low key relaxing dinner with no (or almost no) kid complaining. After dinner, we were back to the apartment way, WAY too late. Mom and Dad set about figuring out the European washing machine while the kids showered and got ready for bed.

Day 3 – Monday – Sainte Chapelle, Jardin du Luxembourg, Eiffel Tower

This morning, at long last, Maya got to go to a boulangerie (bakery) for breakfast. This kid can tackle a baguette like no other, pelt down pan au chocolate so fast you’d swear she didn’t even have time to taste it, and then she’d ask for tastes of whatever everyone else was eating on top of it. Maya is built for carb consumption. We were becoming accustomed to the notion that an 8:00a opening time didn’t strictly mean the place was open yet. We also learned that an open door is not necessarily an invitation – they’re just letting some air into an otherwise stifling hot building.

Then we took the beautiful walk to our 9:00a timed entry at Sainte Chapelle. We were there maybe 20 minutes early, and honestly I felt a little silly standing in line with the handful of other folks that were there. But, by the time 9:00 rolled around, the line stretched far behind us, even for a timed entry.

Sainte Chapelle was built in the 1200s in less than seven years, remarkably quickly for the time. The big draw here for us was the beautiful walls of stained glass prominent in this chapel. There are 15 bays of stained glass, each 15 meters high, depicting various stories from the Bible. The website tells me that 2/3 of the stained glass windows are original. Over the years, the church has been damaged by fires and then during the French Revolution, some of the windows were walled up, destroyed, or even dismantled for sale. Evidently a huge restoration project carried out between 1840 and 1863 saw it restored to its original 13th century glory.

In current times, for more than 20 years, Sainte Chapelle has been undergoing a huge restoration project, presumably cleaning. While we were in the chapel, a portion of it was indeed walled over for restoration, but the novel thing they’ve done is faced that wall with mirrored surfaces, which of course reflect the beautiful stained glass light and other various artifices. It doesn’t strictly blend in, but it’s certainly less jarring than just a covered set of scaffolding would have been. And even in the jewel-box of all that stained glass, there’s more to see. The deep blue ceiling is painted with an array of golden stars, the columns are elaborately painted, and the walls adorned with sculpture. Even the floor has interesting and varied patterns.

When I bought the timed tickets for Sainte Chapelle, I paid just a little extra to for a combined ticket that included La Conciergerie next door, just in case we decided we wanted to visit that too. At a minimum, I thought I could take a quick peek inside to ogle its amazing architecture. We walked in, and we were immediately given a couple of iPads which we could take to various stations and see the how the rooms we were in might have originally appeared and been used.

I’m finding it tricky to pin down when La Conciergerie was built. In the late 10th century, the Palais de la Cité was built on the site and used as a residence. It was enlarged during the 11th through 14th centuries, and more and more parliamentary proceedings occurred there. At one point, a “concierge” was named by the king, to oversee administration of the building and ensure justice in the palace, and thus its name was given.

In the 1300s, the royalty all left to occupy other palaces (the Louvre, for example), and the judicial and prison functions of the building became prominent. The concierge was given greater authority over the courts. Prisoners were imprisoned in accommodations befitting their class. The wealthy would have their own furnished rooms. The poorest would be shoved into damp and often vermin infested cells referred to as oubliettes (forgotten places). Many died of the plague.

A goodly amount of the museum exhibits are given over to describing the Great Terror (or the Reign of Terror, depending on your sources). Post-revolution, France adopted a policy of rounding up anyone with anti-revolution sentiments and putting them quickly to death, with or without trial. One of its most central figures was Maximilien Robespierre. The idea that he espoused was that government had to be bad so the people wouldn’t be. Evidently the guillotine got quite a workout during this time, becoming something of a symbol of this reign of terror. One of the signs in the Conciergerie, if my notes are correct, referred to it as “the silent slash.” Robespierre himself was put to death via the guillotine in 1794, marking the end of the Reign of Terror.

A quick aside about the guillotine: apparently, it was developed at the time as a more humane form of capital punishment. People otherwise were beheaded with swords or axes, which could be painful, especially if inexpertly administered. The poorer classes may have been stuck with basic hangings, and if I understand correctly, hanging methods that would swiftly break the accused’s neck had not yet been developed, so it was a particularly cruel form of punishment. The guillotine, by comparison, was considered “painless.” Lovely and ornate Place de la Concorde that we had wandered through several times by now, was one of the sites of many executions. I was astonished to learn that the last person to be executed by guillotine in France was killed in 1977 (in Marseilles), much more recently than I’d have anticipated.

La Conciergerie’s most famous prisoner was Marie Antoinette. She was accused of treason and of “squandering national funds” and basically embodied everything the revolution hoped to correct. She was put to death in Place de la Concorde in 1793. Her cell was part of our tour.

After this, we wandered by Notre Dame to see if we could go in. I had read over and over again that there were very few advance tickets available and generally speaking, any line that you found yourself in would move pretty quickly. Alas, the line was terrifically lengthy, stretching all through the huge courtyard and around the block. We decided that today was not our day.

Instead we wandered along the Seine, soaking up the Parisian atmosphere. We eventually decided we might like to hop a ride on a boat, and found our way to Vedettes du Pont Neuf and bought tickets to an hour-long tourist cruise. It was really nice being out on the water, listening to our animated guide give facts first in French, which we tried gamely to understand, and then in English. The kids had had crepes while we waited for our boat’s departure time, so they were good and sugared up. Then they spent the entire boat right chattering back and forth about some game they were playing, seemingly absorbing nothing about the architectural and historical marvels they were floating past.

After our boat ride, we wanted to fetch a picnic lunch and go hang out in the Jardin du Luxembourg while we ate. We stopped by a fromagerie (cheese shop) called La Coop to pick up cheeses and cured meats. The store was stocked with Alsatian cheeses, none of which we were familiar with. We spoke with the shopkeeper, describing what we liked and he helped us make our selections and then he cut suitably sized chunks for us. Afterward, we stopped by a boulangerie for sandwiches, bread, drinks, and treats and made our way to the gardens.

After a fair amount of searching, we found ourselves a set of four chairs in the full sun near the boat pond, and proceeded to have an absolute feast. Our cheese selections were so delicious. The meats were a nice compliment. The Orangina was an excellent palate cleanser. (We did consider picking up a bottle of wine, which would have been no problem at all, we just chose not to.)

After lunch, we wandered around the Jardin, seeing our second Statue of Liberty (the first was at Orsay). Apparently, there are many statues of liberty scattered around Paris. Here’s an article, if anyone’s curious. We also made our way over to the famous Medicis fountain, built in 1630. Even with the crowd surrounding it, the fountain maintains its air of tranquility. We enjoyed watching the ducks and occasional pigeons and starlings enjoying the water. There were whole families of ducks wandering around the grounds, much to the kids’ delight.

We had to leave the Jardin to make it to the Eiffel Tower for our timed entry at 5:00p (17:00). We metroed over to the area and then stood in a series of not-particularly-long lines for the next little while. First we went through a security line just to enter La Tour Eiffel’s grounds. Then we went through another line to show our tickets. This got us onto the first elevator up to the second floor (377 feet). Then after examining the views on this floor, we waited in line for yet another elevator up to the summit (906 feet). (Total height of the tower, with antenna, is 1083 feet.)

Getting tickets to the summit level had not been easy. If I remember correctly I had to purchase 60 days prior to the date we wanted to go, and I had to set my computer to France’s time zone so it would allow me to complete the purchase. I had been watching ahead of time and summit tickets would sell out very, very quickly. Luckily, I was able to secure us tickets. June, while summer vacation time for us, is not yet summer vacation in France. Schoolchildren there wouldn’t get out till early July. For all I knew, it’s even more difficult to score summit tickets during July and August.

Riding the elevator up to the summit was particularly interesting. The Eiffel Tower’s structure is unique and fun to watch as it passes by. The monument’s website tells me it has 18,038 metal parts and uses 2.5 million rivets. Another interesting fact we were presented with while there … the Eiffel Tower, which is made of iron, needs to be repainted every seven years. According to the website, 60 tons of paint is required. Also, and I didn’t realize this, its paint color has changed over the years.

The views from the summit are amazing. You kind of have to become one with the crowd, but otherwise, once you find a little open space on each of the sides, you can relax a little and absorb the views. We didn’t spring for champagne at the top, but we did get little plastic cups of sparkling lemonade, which was most welcome with all the human body heat around us.

Your only option for descending from the summit is by elevator (you guessed it, another small line). But, once we got to the second floor, we opted to take the stairs down, even Sean who has an aversion to heights. It was much less sweltering than the elevator, we didn’t have to wait for it, and walking right in amongst the iron structure was actually pretty neat. Sean says that because of the four-leg structure of the Eiffel Tower, he didn’t feel that the tower swayed as much as some of them do.

On our way leaving the Eiffel Tower, we happened upon a Wallace fountain, and refilled our water bottles. I don’t remember if we’d seen one before this, but it’s the first time I remember partaking. Apparently Sir Richard Wallace provided funding to have these installed around Paris starting in the 1870s to ensure a source of fresh drinking water for the poor. I read in the linked article above that, “The four Wallace caryatids, holding up the dome of the fountain, represent four virtues – kindness, simplicity, charity and sobriety.” Usually painted a dark green and very statuesque, they’re easy to pick out, and they do indeed supply delicious, safe drinking water, even to this day.

Once back in our neighborhood, we hit the grocery store to stock up on breakfast goods for the next morning. Then we hit a poke and bubble tea place for dinner, at the kids’ request. Then we all got cleaned up for our VERY early start the next day.

Day 4 – Tuesday – Sunrise Photos, Catacombs Disappointment, Notre Dame

Months before we were scheduled to take this trip, I had decided that as an anniversary gift to ourselves, I wanted family photos taken with a view of the Eiffel Tower. I looked around for photographers (there are many) and reached out to a company that seemed reputable. One of the company’s photographers responded to us immediately to discuss our options. And that’s the story of how we were awake at 4:00 in the morning to pretty ourselves up to the best of our ability and meet a nice lady named Anais (from The Parisian Photographers) near the Eiffel Tower at 5:45a for sunrise photos.

We had talked about locations ahead of time, and true to her word, Anais met us as discussed right on time. We had chosen a place right along the Seine that would feature a bridge in the foreground and the Eiffel Tower in the background. The river was quiet and still. There were very few people out. It was a little cold, so we stayed bundled up till photo shoot time, but it was pleasant enough that no one was overly bothered.

Anais helped set us immediately at ease. She took a series of photos aimed toward the boats on the water and then a second series of photos with the Eiffel Tower in view. She offered gentle guidance on how to pose and lots of encouragement. We could not have been happier with the photos she provided us.

We finished up just before the Trocadero location of Carette opened at 7:00. The timing was such that we managed to be among the first folks seated for their famous thick hot chocolate with Chantilly cream. It was a welcome treat after our early start and a nice antidote to the cool morning air. For my part, I had coffee, but Sean let me taste his chocolate. It was thick and rich and on the sweet side. I think the cream is meant to thin it out and temper the sweetness, in the most decadent way possible, but of course our kids were having none of that, preferring to drink it straight.

After we finished at Carette, we metroed over to the Louvre to take a few photos of the grounds. The museum is closed on Tuesdays and it was very early in the morning (Parisians aren’t known to be particularly early risers), so it was delightfully uncrowded. Sean spent as much time as the kids would allow, wandering around and taking photos of the area, of I.M. Pei’s famous pyramids, and of the older structure of the original Louvre palace. The kids, often the limiting factor on how much time can be spent, forced our hand and sent us home probably well before Sean was ready to leave.

We indulged in a much-needed rest when we were back at the apartment. Well, the grown ups worked on a bit of laundry and then napped. Our lunatic children instead played on their screens, ignoring the need for rest.

In our current neighborhood – La Marais – there’s a covered market called Le Marche des Enfants Rouges. It takes its name from what was once a nearby orphanage whose occupants wore red uniforms. Apparently, I’m learning now, it’s the oldest covered market in Paris, built in 1615. We just went there hunting for lunch.

We let the kids choose where we wanted to eat, and so Maya landed on a place serving Italian food. She has a huge soft spot for pesto. I liked it because my Italian sucks slightly less than my French, and so it was easier to communicate. At any rate, our pasta was delicious, and after a stroll through the lively market, we headed back to the apartment to relax and knock out a little more laundry before our timed entry that afternoon to visit The Catacombs.

Getting these tickets was also a little tricky. You may not purchase them before 7 days prior to your preferred date, down to the time. So if you want 5p tickets, you must buy them at 5p 7 days before. I am careful, and I secured them, which made both kids very happy. They both had been anticipating visiting the Catacombs. One or both of them had actually seen videos about them before we even started planning this vacation and when we mentioned Paris, they checked in with us to verify that the place was real.

The Catacombs aren’t really close to anything else, so we had a long metro ride ahead of us to the 14th arrondissement. First, we needed to add more trips to our metro cards. We wound up at a station that didn’t seem to have machines for adding trips to the cards. We hoofed it to a known good station to recharge our metro cards. Once all that was done, we arrived at our destination with only a few minutes to spare. Imagine our disappointment when we walked up to the location full of relief that we’d made it on time, only to find that the workers were on strike and that we would not be visiting the ossuary on this vacation. Ferme (closed).

The kids were clearly sad, but there was nothing to be done. Any other day I could have booked was already sold out (and in checking after the fact, the strike extended through the rest of our time in Paris anyway). We instead thought we’d give Notre Dame another try. Back on the metro we went for a trip back into town.

The fire in 2019 had closed Notre Dame. Thankfully restoration efforts allowed the cathedral to open (mostly) in December of 2024. We had seen travel videos from people who’d visited Notre Dame before and after the restoration, and commentary about the current state of things was very positive. Apparently, in addition to fire and smoke damage, the cleaning and restoration efforts removed decades worth of grime as well.

When we arrived this time, the line was considerably shorter than it had been earlier in the week and was moving very, very quickly. We found that Notre Dame was indeed a relatively bright and airy space. The rose windows are huge and beautiful. Maya was put off by the smoky incense, but otherwise, I enjoyed wandering the massive church, columns towering over us, colorful light from the stained glass shining.

The 2019 fire burned the spire and most of the roof. Firefighters saved what they could, in reportedly heroic fashion. Ultimately though, the spire collapsed. The rebuilding effort took just over five years. While in the church, we saw a piece of twisted metal on display. Apparently the spire had been topped by a copper rooster; it was believed that it had been lost to the fire. It was found the next day in the rubble on one of the upper sections of the cathedral. While damaged, it remains on display as “a symbol of Notre Dame de Paris’s resilience.”

We headed back to our neck of the woods to find that a huge crowd was gathering at Place de la Republique to protest Israel’s treatment of Palestine. I felt like we had kind of the full French experience all in one day – first a labor strike, then a protest.

We had an easy dinner at Bouillon Republique where I had a workmanlike (and delicious) version of foie gras and duck confit, Sean had boeuf bourguignon, Ian had the first of many, many steak frites, and Maya had salmon tartare. Ian also discovered that he loved the creme brûlée that Sean ordered for dessert. A bouillon, by the way, is a type of restaurant serving traditional, affordable French cuisine to the working class.

After a perfectly satisfying dinner, we headed back to the apartment to pack. I was a little sad to leave this place. We were staying a little north of all the action in the Marais district, but we were an easy walk to it. Plus our rental apartment was very comfortable. We didn’t have gobs of space, but more than we’d have had in a hotel room. The decor was wacky and fun. Plus we were near multiple metro stops. My favorite was the Arts et Metiers station, which had a coppery steampunk vibe. Alas, it was time to say au revoir. Tomorrow we would be heading to Disney.

Day 5 – Wednesday – Walt Disney Studios Park

Pays des Marveilles (Walt Disney Studios Park)

Day 6 – Thursday – Disneyland Paris

La Taniere du Dragon (Disneyland Paris)

Day 7 – Friday – Leaving Disney, Visiting Mona Lisa at Le Louvre

My foggy recollection is that we didn’t have any issue getting from our metro stop to our hotel, and that we were thankfully allowed to check into our hotel right away. Since we wouldn’t even be there for 24 hours, I had snagged a nice-looking hotel room that would accommodate all four of us in the 9th arrondissement of Paris (Hotel Imperial).

This is the Opera district, and the area was definitely more upscale than our Marais location had been. Everything was beautiful and ornate as we wandered around looking for a quick lunch, (since I had chosen to cancel our fancy lunch).

The kids chose ramen at a place called Bento 9. Sean and I picked at some kind of stir-fried noodle dish, still full from our big breakfast. I had timed entry to visit the Louvre later on that afternoon, so after lunch, we elected to rest in our hotel until then.

We had read beforehand that the Louvre is always jam packed with visitors. It is, after all, the most visited museum in the world, hosting nine million visitors annually. It also houses arguably the world’s most famous painting, Leonardo da Vinci’s Mona Lisa. I thought we’d try visiting during the Louvre’s late hours on a Friday night, to see if the crowds were any thinner. I’ll be honest, if they were, I’ll never know because the number of people was astonishing.

Another interesting fact about the Louvre, it was established as a museum in 1793, notably having been repurposed from a royal residence to a people’s museum, in line with the ideals of the French Revolution. Art is not just for royalty, after all.

The Louvre is immense. It is housed in the Louvre Palace, which was originally built in the late 12th to early 13th century. The museum covers roughly 73,000 square meters (~785,765 square feet), on five floors, and spread across three separate wings. As I understand it, while the museum has something north of 500,000 objects – including paintings, sculptures, and archaeological items, it only displays 35,000-38,000 at any given time. And I knew this, at a high level, but we found out the hard way that not all the rooms are open every day that the Louvre is open.

Planning a visit is completely overwhelming, so I cheated. Before we left Texas, I downloaded a plan of attack from the Internet and tweaked it with a couple things that I specifically cared about. And then I didn’t do a single drop of extra research. We showed up, grabbed a map, and tried to hunt down the room numbers as suggested in my downloaded plan.

This approach was impeded by a couple of things. First, they close different rooms on different days – I’m guessing to cope with staffing issues. They have a schedule online, and I should have looked at it ahead of time, but there was so much to do that that was one of the things that got overlooked. Also, while the map looks logical enough, reality doesn’t always match what you’re seeing on the paper. Sean is an excellent navigator, and usually he’s leading the charge with me telling him what we want to see next while trying to make sure we don’t lose any kids en route.

No joy. With random closures and walls and stairways popping up in unexpected places, getting from point A to point B was a hit or miss affair. We eventually managed to head to some landmark things, and gazed at the art and artifacts as we were passing through, usually in a mad jumble of people. It’s sort of freeing to know that it’s impossible, literally impossible, to see all the things in one visit. So you just … don’t.

The palace itself is gorgeous. Every room is ornately carved and decorated. The ceiling is often bedecked with massive paintings. Looking up is highly recommended once you enter a new space. The historic artifacts collection contains items dating back to the 7th century BC. There is such a variety of things to see! For example, one of the rooms that we had hoped to see was one containing Egyptian burial urns and mummies, but alas, that was closed.

We did eventually fight our way through the Denon Wing and into the room to see teeny tiny Mona Lisa. You can’t get very close, and she’s encased in an enclosure that’s a bit reflective which impedes proper viewing, and there’s a mad crush of people all jockeying for position. But I feel like you kind of have to go see it. I’ve heard it referred to as a “destination painting.” Also, if you need to breathe for a moment, there actually is other art in the room to see.

Back at trip planning time, we had decided not to spend one of our precious Paris days visiting the palace at Versailles. As a salve to that, we did make a point of visiting Napoleon’s apartments in the Louvre. These were actually in the Richelieu Wing, and were amazing to behold. A weird facet that I had kind of forgotten about (because I 100% do not care) was that the couture exhibit was happening in this wing of the Louvre during this time. Crazy outfits were on display throughout, and they were especially interesting in the context of the richly textured and decorated rooms in this wing.

Another thing I really wanted to see was an exhibit called History of the Louvre, which has you heading way downstairs to see the medieval structures and foundations of the building, including the moat!

The sculptures were incredible too. We saw Venus de Milo, Winged Victory of Samothrace, and so, so much more. I know people complain about it, some even telling you to skip it, but I’m glad we visited the Louvre. Like I always do at big museums like this, I wish I understood art and its context a little more than I do. Understanding the novelty and controversy over subject matter and styles definitely adds to the experience.

As a concession to the several hours in the museum we’d spent that evening, we let the kids have McDonald’s for dinner. And after an unremarkable meal, we made our way back to our hotel to clean up and get packed for our first big train journey of the trip.

Day 8 – Saturday – Mont St Michel, eventually

Mont St Michel – A Good Night for a Long Walk

Day 9 – Sunday – Return from Mont St Michel, Nighttime Montmartre and Eiffel Tower

After our long trip from Mont St Michel, we were late enough into Paris that we were able to check into our AirBNB for this portion of the trip. This time, owing to our very early train in a couple days, we’d be staying not too far from Gare de Lyon right around where the 12th and 20th arrondissements border each other (our address was actually in the 20th, I think). This was our most local neighborhood-like location, and it was my favorite place we “lived” while in Paris. There were two bedrooms, a living room, and a kitchen. With all the windows, it felt very light and open. Out of our kitchen window, we had a view of a little skate-board area and a boulangerie, and it was fun to watch that part of the city slowly wake up in the morning.

We had originally thought we might try to visit Opera Garnier, but all the tickets were sold out, and in any case, there wouldn’t have been much time (it closed at 5, and our train didn’t even get to Paris till 2:20). Instead, we visited the grocery store, started some laundry, and generally enjoyed some down time.

We decided that if we were going to see the Eiffel Tower light up and sparkle at night, we better make it this evening. We had an obscenely early train on Tuesday morning, and a late night beforehand seemed like a bad choice. As it happens though, sunset is very late this far north in the summer, and the tower doesn’t sparkle till sundown. By this point, in mid-June, it wouldn’t put on its first show till 11.

To kill a bit of time, we decided to go see the Montmartre district at night. The area was very lively, even on a Sunday evening. We walked first to famous Sacre Couer (Basilique du Sacre Couer de Montmartre). The steps heading up through that part of town and all the way up to the cathedral are not for the faint of heart. The building exterior is absolutely gorgeous, especially at night. You almost could forget about the huge crowds. Even though the cathedral is open late, we were too late to go in. It wasn’t particularly high on my list anyway, though it might have been interesting to climb the 300 steps up to tour the dome.

We bought our tolerant kids some nice ice cream and walked over to see Moulin Rouge all lit up at night (Moulin Rouge – sounds fancy and exotic in French – just means “red windmill”). We unintentionally walked ourselves past the Café des Deux Moulins, of Amelie fame. It was honestly a pretty pleasant walk.

We hopped a metro over to the Alexander III bridge to find a good place to watch the Eiffel Tower sparkle. We had maybe 15 or 20 minutes to kill, which of course is an eternity in kid-time. Instead of staying up on the bridge (which had some kind of obtrusive construction going on), we managed to walk ourselves down some steps a bit nearer the Seine, and this turned out to be a much better (quieter and more scenic) location from which to watch the tower. Once the big moment finally came and the Eiffel Tower began to glitter and shimmer, both kids almost in unison said, “That’s it??!!” I guess it’s no match for a Disney castle night show.

We had a looooong metro ride back to our apartment (basically, we went all the way across town), and the kids were snoozing by the time we got to our stop. Sean and I discussed it. Even though I had booked 9:00 entry to the Musee de l’Orangerie the next day, and even though I badly wanted to see those giant Monet paintings, we decided to skip our reservation and let the kids (and adults) sleep in instead.

Day 10 – Monday – Pharmacie, Daytime Montmartre, Galeries Lafayette

As mentioned, we let the kids sleep in. To thank me for my sacrifice, poor Maya woke up and vomited. At least she didn’t yark on a Monet. Later on, she managed to eat deux croissants that Sean had fetched from our boulangerie across the street.

After breakfast, our first stop would be at one of the ubiquitous pharmacies we’d seen all over the city. You can’t buy most medicines at a supermarche (grocery store). They must be purchased at la pharmacie. The upshot is that the pharmacist will chat with you and try to ensure you’re purchasing the correct medications for your (or your child’s) symptoms. We muddled our way through what Maya was dealing with, and we left with some very soothing cough drops (pastilles contre la toux), some expectorant, and some nasal spray, which Maya wholly loathed.

Once we had dosed her up, and she confirmed she was feeling ok, we headed out for more exploring. Our pharmacist had checked her temperature (she was normal), and Maya seemed to feel better and was able to keep her cough under control, so we thought this would be ok. (It was all ok, this isn’t Chekhov’s gun.)

We headed again to Montmartre, this time to wander around and see the tourist things in the light of day. Sean chose our route carefully though. He led us on a path that would take us up switchback-esque lanes and byways instead of up those damnable steps again. Of note this day, in our wandering, we accidentally saw the grocery store from Amelie as well. I hear some people go on Amelie tours in Montmartre. We didn’t, at all, but wound up at some of the movie locations anyway.

We wandered past the I Love You Wall (Le mur des je t’aime). This is a 400+ square foot art installation featuring the words “I love you” written in 311 languages. I can’t really complain because we were tourists too, but on this trip, I often found it hard to appreciate a thing for the sheer crush of people always obscuring it. We didn’t linger long here – we worked our way up toward the wall, took a few photos, found the English language “I love you” and then wandered out of the crowd.

The next place we stopped was much more pleasant. We visited Le Passe Muraille (The Man Who Walked Through Walls), a bronze sculpture of a man who appears to be emerging from the wall. It’s apparently taken from a 1941 short story by Marcel Aymé. The story is about a man afflicted with the ability to walk through walls. Eventually he comes to abuse this power, annoying people to madness and robbing banks. One day, due to a funny set of circumstances, this man finds himself stuck in a wall for all eternity. The present day sculpture’s outstretched hand is shiny, implying that us tourists are trying to pull him from the wall. Knowing now what the story is about, maybe we should all just leave him there.

Our unpopulated reprieve was about to end. We made our way over to Place du Tertre. In this famous cobble-stoned square, artists gather to sell their goods. Cafes line the area. The scene is, in a word, bustling. My goal was to see if we could find a painting to bring home. The thing to do is to have your portrait made, but we had already had our photos taken, and didn’t really want to sit for that. Instead, I hoped to find a Parisian cityscape or scene. We fought our way through the crowd and looked through our options, and decided to think things over.

Then we took a walk over to Sacre Couer again so we could wander around during the daytime. We still didn’t take the time to go inside. Maybe we should have, but none of us were really feeling it, and the lines were long. Instead we circled the cathedral, checking it out from various angles, marveling at the juxtaposition of machine gun wielding guards against the serene white walls of the church.

We wandered back to Place du Tertre to find the artist whose work we most enjoyed. She let us flip through all the paintings till we found the one we loved the most. We had to fetch cash from a nearby ATM (many of the artists there only take cash), and then she packaged it up in a nice sturdy poster tube which I was nearly certain I could fit into my travel backpack (it did, just barely).

We had a late lunch at Bouillon Pigalle, during which our kids drank their weight in this “lemonade” which I think was just lemony, sweetened soda water, Sean and I had “ouefs mayonnaise,” and we all had a brief rest. Sean and I might have liked to choose a random cafe and sit down for a bit, but I don’t think our kids would have tolerated it well and we were in “keeping the peace” mode, I think.

Sean has been shopping for a clarinet for Maya. Before this trip, he discovered that the European-made clarinets are sold for nearly twice the price in the US that they are in France. We figured we would at least visit a store and see what our options were. Maya was singularly focused on this part of the trip. Everything else (except maybe Disney) was secondary to going clarinet shopping. Upon entering the very quiet shop and trying to talk to the shopkeepers, who appeared busy with clarinet repairs, she learned that they didn’t carry any of the 18-key clarinets she was hoping to try out. And just like that, we would not be buying a clarinet in France. But, since she tried a shop and they didn’t have what she wanted, she seemed satisfied that her wishes had been addressed. Why didn’t we try more shops, you might ask. They often kept strange hours and unfortunately they didn’t overlap well with our time in Paris. Alas.

Next we headed to Galeries Lafayette to see the famous glass-domed ceiling (La Coupole) and to work our way up to see the rooftop view. Galeries Lafayette is first and foremost a shopping center – a huge one. You could tell that Sean and Ian, our resident shoppers, were enthralled and might have liked to spend some time perusing the goods. Unfortunately for them, we had a timed entry to check out the Glasswalk. This is a 9-meter long platform that juts out 16 meters above the floor below. One might observe that the only good way to get certain photos of the glass dome without the poxy glasswalk in the way is to go out on the glasswalk. They don’t charge for the experience, so I guess I won’t gripe.

Our time on the glasswalk was very short, and I can’t guarantee we got the best photos, but that dome and honestly the whole area it covers is breathtaking. No surface is left un-embellished. I’m told the style is Art Nouveau with elements of Art Deco. Whatever it is, it’s a feast for the eyes.

We made our way up to the eighth floor to check out the rooftop terrace. This is free to enjoy, though reservations at the rooftop bar so we could enjoy a late-afternoon “apero” might have been nice. Regardless, the views of Palais Garnier (a.k.a. Ópera Garnier), Sacre Couer, and the Eiffel Tower are excellent. For a time, there had been a sign on the roof proclaiming “Paris Je T’Aime,” and if you lined it up right, the Eiffel Tower jutted up from the I in “Paris.” Unfortunately, that sign was gone when we were there.

We headed back to our apartment after that. Sean and I fetched some grocery store goodies for dinner. We found some amazing cheeses, a petit Liverot that we have a hard time locating in the US, and “Disney” cheese. Ok, it’s not really Disney cheese. It is a lovely camembert from the Isigny-sur-mer, a town in the Normandy region of France. If it’s “of” Isigny, it looks like d’Isigny, which you would essentially pronounce as “Disney.”

Not at all coincidentally, Walt’s way-back forebears were named lords of Isigny, so they were called d’Isigny. Upon settling in England, the name was anglicized to the Disney we’re all so familiar with here in America.

Anyhow, the cheese was amazing. The kids had cured meat, more baguette, and finally some sliced up apples. It had been a while since we’d had any kind of fresh fruit. We spent the rest of our evening packing and tidying and making sure no one had snuck in and canceled our train.

Day 11 – Tuesday – Nimes, Pont du Gard

The Fascination of the Void (Nimes, Pont du Gard)

Days 12-16 – Wednesday-Sunday – Nice and Côte d’Azur

Probably this should be days 12-15, since Sunday was pretty much just a travel day.

A Nice Post (Nice, Eze, Antibes)

Spring was a little slow to actually spring this year. We had had such little rain that even by early April, there weren’t a whole lot of bluebonnets to be found. In our yard, things were definitely slower to bloom than they might normally. My heartleaf skullcap, which seems like it’s among the first to bloom, really didn’t show any flowers through the entire month.

Beloved local grocery store chain HEB has been selling Texas native plants in their garden section. Maybe they always do this, but I finally became aware of it this spring. I managed to score a number of native flowering plants, some in bloom, some not, and that added some spring flowers to our slow to bloom yard. We managed rock rose, scarlet sage, and Blackfoot daisies, all in bloom. We also scored some coral honeysuckle and coneflower that haven’t yet had a chance to flower, but hopefully will sometime this year.

One morning, I was astonished to find something in the flower beds that looked for all the world like some animal had barfed in our yard. Sure enough, it was a fungus type growth called – I’m not kidding – Dog Vomit Slime Mold. Its name isn’t even the weirdest part. Once the slime mold dried, it became less visible, and I kind of forgot about it … until I had installed some new plants in that same bed and wanted to water them. As I was watering, I noticed a weird black smoke-like haze above the mulch – the spores were ready to spread and apparently the pressure of my watering encouraged them to do so. As I understand it, the slime mold isn’t particularly harmful to humans or wildlife. It’s just doing its part to break down my wood mulch.

The first Friday of the month, Maya and Ian went to the carnival at Maya’s middle school. I wasn’t sure Maya would care, but she definitely wanted to go. Sean and I mostly hung out and let the kids run. Honestly, we tried to work out a deal where we dropped the kids off and came back to pick them up, but Maya especially was having none of it. Maybe next year.

That first weekend in April was the cub scouts spring campout. I thought for sure it was going to be rained out, and sure enough, they did cancel early camping on Friday. The campout was a Colorado Bend State Park, a place I had been wanting to visit for years, so I would definitely have sprung for the extra night on Friday, if Maya’s school thing hadn’t overlapped.

The scouts were loathe to cancel, and after carefully examining the forecast, decided to carry on for Saturday into Sunday camping. Most of us had reservations for a small spelunking adventure in one of the park’s many wild caves, and those reservations couldn’t have been honored on the backup weekend, so they scout leader was very motivated to keep our original schedule intact, as long as it was safe.

Saturday morning, we drove to the state park mostly in the rain. We got there and got our tent set up. Maya caught some grasshoppers, we dodged animal poo, we admired the nearby river.

We spent the afternoon going on a hike. The two main hikes at Colorado Bend are the Gorman Falls Trail and the Spicewood Springs Loop. We would only have time for one of the two hikes, since we had a cave tour scheduled. I still want to hike someday to see Gorman Falls, but it’s a destination hike. We went for the Spicewood Springs loop instead, since the whole trail is scenic and interesting. We saw many springs of course, but to me the neatest part was ascending on the trail and looking down into the canyon.

Even though it was still pretty early in the year, we saw some neat vegetation too. I was particularly enthralled with the native milkweed we saw growing along the trail. I have tried and failed to get native milkweed to get a foothold in our yard, in an effort to encourage monarch butterflies to visit, so it was a delight to see it looking so big and healthy out in the wild.

We also saw a beautiful red-blooming cactus. Image search tells me this is a Kingcup cactus. It provided a much appreciated dash of color to the early-season landscape. All in all, the hike was lovely, and I’m glad we got to camp earlier enough to fit it in.

We were warned that it would be cold. We had had several warm days before the campout, so I wasn’t thinking about just how cold we would get. We brought jackets and raincoats and the extra sacks for our sleeping bags that would make them feel warmer. What we should have done is brought our thermals, winter coats, hats, and gloves. Seriously, it was so cold Sunday morning.

The cave we visited was called Turtle Shell Cave and after a brief safety talk with our guide (Jeff), we donned our hats and knee pads and headed hiked the short trail to the cave entrance. Cave entrance here is a term with really describes a hole in the ground. We didn’t walk into a Scooby Doo villain secret lair cage. We descended down into the cave.

After our initial descent, we were mostly on our hands and knees crawling. There were spots here and there where we could sit up and relax a bit, but there were also spots where I felt like I had to hunker down and army crawl to get through. But, we got to see cave crickets and some bones and even a bat! She was referred to as nugget (given her resemblance to a chicken nugget) but I think her name was Roxanne. We viewed her with a red light so as not to disturb her. Get it? Roxanne, you don’t have to put on that red light.

We had already packed up before our cave tour, so after we were done, it we headed home, stopping on our way through Lampasas for lunch. We stopped in at Country Kitchen and Bakery, and they didn’t bat an eye when us cave-dirty, camping-weary Woodses plopped down and ordered way too much food.

We had been halfway hoping we’d see a nice patch of bluebonnets while we were at Colorado Bend. Alas, there really weren’t any. And our normal spot wasn’t all that impressive. I toyed with the idea of having the kids sit on either side of a lone bluebonnet who had gamely set up shop in a crack in the sidewalk near our house for our annual photos this year. Ultimately, Sean split the difference and with some careful angling, made use of some nice bluebonnets that were growing in a nearby neighbor’s yard to accomplish our photos this year.

Ian isn’t generally as interested as Maya is in musical and theater performance opportunities at his grade school, so we don’t get to see any extra fun theater performances. But we did get to go and see him perform with his fourth grade music class one morning early in the month. They apparently had, as a class, written and composed some songs and were going to perform them for us. It was a cute show, though Ian seemed to disassociate himself from any involvement in the development of the songs.

For Easter, we were pretty low key. We filled the kids’ baskets with goodies. I baked cupcakes for them to decorate, and this year, they did ALL the decorating. They piped icing on with a couple different tips and decorated with edible butterflies and a variety of fun sprinkles. Later on in the day, they bashed each other with cascarones.

The grandparents were in on the Easter action too. Grammy and Grandpa sent gift cards – hooray! Lolli had started crocheting Ian this patchwork blanket over the Christmas break, in part to show him how to crochet. That blanket grew and grew and was shipped to him for Easter. So Maya would not be left out, Lolli crocheted and sent her an adorable cat.

Unfortunately, Easter afternoon, we discovered the pressure was gone from our hot water tap. After some work from Sean, two different plumber visits on two different days, and way more money than I ever would have expected for such a small issue, it was fixed, but it messed up our schedule for a little while. Also, holy wow, plumbing work is expensive!

Ian performs at the farmers’ market in his teacher’s neighborhood more or less monthly. While we didn’t get any footage of the music this time, the performance was solid, and it sounds like Ian may even have enjoyed it a little.

The last weekend of the month was all about Maya and music, and wow was she stressed about it. On Saturday morning, she had her middle school band competition. She and her classmates would perform solo and ensemble pieces and a judge would give them ratings based on their performance. What was special was that the ensemble piece for the double reeds (oboes and bassoon) was a composition written by Maya. That composition didn’t have a name until *right* before the performance. As a group, they chose to title it, “A Windy Journey.” The double reed kids all received a 1 on their solos and the group received a 1 on their ensemble, so I think it went pretty well.

Then the very next day, Maya had per spring piano recital. She always volunteers to perform. And even though I gently suggested that she limit her performance (and practicing, and stress level) to the first movement of her piece, she insisted on doing the whole thing. She was committed to practicing and of course, she had it memorized by performance time (which is not a requirement). When she sat down to perform, given her nerves, she started playing at probably a good 10+% faster speed than she had been practicing at. I was on pins and needles the whole time she played, worried that at turbo speed she would stumble and get flustered. She didn’t. She did a great job. Multiple people found her after the concert to specifically congratulate her on her playing. I think she was too overwhelmed by the attention to consider enjoying the compliments. Here she is playing Sonatina in C Major, by Friedrich Kuhlau.

When we moved into our house, there were many large ash trees shading the yard and roof. It’s a little hard to grow things in that shade, but it was very welcome in the summer months. Those trees are all toward the end of their life span and we’ve had to remove a number of them over the years. Well, this year we had to remove two more. We now have a very sunny roof and a back yard that, while still pretty shady, has a lot more sun than it used to. There’s only one of those ash trees left, and between the droughts and the weird freezes, we’ve had to remove most of his limbs too. We’ll see how long that guy survives.