Today, I almost barfed in the Jardin de Tuileries.
As Shannon discussed in a previous blog, we were debating about whether to go to EuroDisney or visit the pretty large and fun-looking carnival right in the Jardin, a 5 minute walk from our apartment. We opted for the latter, and it was a good decision. Mostly.
For the boys, it was perfect. The rides were exciting and fun (really, a pretty high-end carnival--what else would you expect in Paris?), and they were very enthusiastic about it. From trampolines in the shadow of the Louvre to round after round of kiddie bumper cars, they truly had a blast. More importantly, it was an easy day, which they needed. Very little walking. Plenty of shady spots to rest. Break back at the apartment at lunch time. And no lines. Seriously. They waited not once to get on a ride. Disney, at 85 degrees in French holiday-season would have been a nightmare.
So, Quin and Berkley had a grand old time. For their parents, not so much. For some reason, we decided to go on the "swing ride." This is the ride where the seats hang on very long chains and it goes around in circles and kind of warbles a bit. (See Berkley's blog entry for a picture.) Not sure why we did this, since I have a long-standing aversion to motion of this sort, and Shannon's realized in the last several years that she no longer has the stomach of an astronaut. I guess we thought it was easy enough, just going around in big, lazy circles.
Non. Within minutes, we were not good. Sweat covered the body. Palms tingled. Stomach churned. I was seriously worried I might to hurl breakfast on some 19th Century sculpture.
And, worse, this carnival provided good value. Not like those cheapy gypsy carnivals--here you got plenty of ride time for your Euro. It went on and on and on.
When it was over, we stumbled off, glad not to have empty our stomachs. But it was hours and hours before we felt normal again. Stupid Americans.
On the bright side, the easy day left the boys in good condition for an evening venture to a bistro for dinner. We sat on the sidewalk of the Grand Boulevard. We had real French food, and it was very good.
And before that, I was able to take out the bicycle and go across the Seine to the Latin Quarter. I stopped for espresso at a cafe in the Place de la Sorbonne. I was looking pretty Parisian, until I pulled out my Paris guide book (in English, of course) and started reading the Louvre section. Well, I am a tourist, after all, and Paris's best museum is on the agenda for tomorrow.