For Pentecost that promises a bright sun, Antoine and I are headed for the capital, bearing the Backpacker lovers taken from the magnificent library of Valmy (where I recently make a map of faithful reader). Well we took ...
Hosted by Anthony's cousin and her fiance, near the Père Lachaise, we begin our weekend by an idyllic picnic in the Buttes Chaumont park filled with screaming children and married meringue. We climb a little further north to reach the canal Saint Martin reflecting the glare of the hot end of the afternoon, and we walk up the banks Stralingrad. In passing, we discover the ultimate Parisian practice: automated public toilets, free, and not even feel bad every 200m.
We must see the Eiffel Tower. Down the metro to the Trocadero, we admire the great, by far, and more and more closely. Not as high as the Empire State Building, it still gives a giddy fool ... A bit like the queue to go up again, stretching like a long verse, at 19:30. We spend our way and find Lydia and Vasken (cousin of Anthony and his fiance) on the Pont des Arts, the appointment of the evening for all ailments. They spoil us, and bring with them a picnic of kings: baby carrots, cherry tomatoes, tzatziki and moussaka, baguette "French" Camembert, champagne, red wine. So French & Divine. And homemade tiramisu biscuits roses de Reims. Fed by fatigue and delight, Antoine and I are embarking on a final night walk through the Tuileries and the Louvre.
We leave Paris while asleep in a Sunday morning. By winning the marsh, the capital awoke, animated by its tourists cluster, but the Place des Vosges is still deserted.
The Les Halles area was filled with ants, which we are ...
We cross the multitude under a summer sun and earn Opera to eat some sushi. In passing, we move into a very nice way, that which gave rise to the parades of Kenzo. 
We arrive at the docks and stroll on the Pont Neuf before joining Saint-Michel.
We find Claire in the Luxembourg Gardens and Bolts on the only pitch he is allowed to trample in the square meter that we managed to scrounge all Parisians came for a little greenery. After a delicious ice
Amarino eaten on the Ile Saint-Louis, we embark on one of the stars of the Pont Neuf, in the midst of Americans seeking a touch of Parisian dream. It is to do once in his life, but far from fulfilling our desires of magic.
The setting sun over the capital still leaves smug ...
Hungry by all that walking, we begin a new journey to the Marais to buy falafel sandwiches s . Well, it's 5 € when it was $ 1 in NY, but it is very appetizing. It annoyed at the sight of the Place des Vosges closed for the night, we get impatient without finding a bench to rest our feet. The docks are saving but distant, we hold among a group of gays in heat and another punk dog. Yummy!
We emerge in the late morning on Monday, however, awakened by the kitten's apartment. We agree with Naomi Arc de Triomphe and then descend some of the crowded Champs-Elysées gardens covered in the cause of farmers. Quick quick, get out of the walkabout. We return in the district of Les Halles, Rue Montorgueil, to eat a small salad and a refreshing smoothie.
We drink a glass of New Yorkers with memories Katherine, France presstrip a time, and end our trip with a visit to Montmartre.
We go through Belleville before taking the TGV to buy a dinner completely unbalanced, but rich in memories of Chinese buns lacquered pork and sesame fritters with red beans.
The descent to the Perrache train station is painful, blisters on feet we put to execution, but the pictures make us sing sunny Paris: Me when I want beautiful holiday ... j'monte in Paris!
We must see the Eiffel Tower. Down the metro to the Trocadero, we admire the great, by far, and more and more closely. Not as high as the Empire State Building, it still gives a giddy fool ... A bit like the queue to go up again, stretching like a long verse, at 19:30. We spend our way and find Lydia and Vasken (cousin of Anthony and his fiance) on the Pont des Arts, the appointment of the evening for all ailments. They spoil us, and bring with them a picnic of kings: baby carrots, cherry tomatoes, tzatziki and moussaka, baguette "French" Camembert, champagne, red wine. So French & Divine. And homemade tiramisu biscuits roses de Reims. Fed by fatigue and delight, Antoine and I are embarking on a final night walk through the Tuileries and the Louvre.
We leave Paris while asleep in a Sunday morning. By winning the marsh, the capital awoke, animated by its tourists cluster, but the Place des Vosges is still deserted.
The Les Halles area was filled with ants, which we are ...
We cross the multitude under a summer sun and earn Opera to eat some sushi. In passing, we move into a very nice way, that which gave rise to the parades of Kenzo. 
We arrive at the docks and stroll on the Pont Neuf before joining Saint-Michel.
We find Claire in the Luxembourg Gardens and Bolts on the only pitch he is allowed to trample in the square meter that we managed to scrounge all Parisians came for a little greenery. After a delicious ice
Amarino eaten on the Ile Saint-Louis, we embark on one of the stars of the Pont Neuf, in the midst of Americans seeking a touch of Parisian dream. It is to do once in his life, but far from fulfilling our desires of magic.
The setting sun over the capital still leaves smug ...
Hungry by all that walking, we begin a new journey to the Marais to buy falafel sandwiches s . Well, it's 5 € when it was $ 1 in NY, but it is very appetizing. It annoyed at the sight of the Place des Vosges closed for the night, we get impatient without finding a bench to rest our feet. The docks are saving but distant, we hold among a group of gays in heat and another punk dog. Yummy!
We emerge in the late morning on Monday, however, awakened by the kitten's apartment. We agree with Naomi Arc de Triomphe and then descend some of the crowded Champs-Elysées gardens covered in the cause of farmers. Quick quick, get out of the walkabout. We return in the district of Les Halles, Rue Montorgueil, to eat a small salad and a refreshing smoothie.
We drink a glass of New Yorkers with memories Katherine, France presstrip a time, and end our trip with a visit to Montmartre.
We go through Belleville before taking the TGV to buy a dinner completely unbalanced, but rich in memories of Chinese buns lacquered pork and sesame fritters with red beans.
The descent to the Perrache train station is painful, blisters on feet we put to execution, but the pictures make us sing sunny Paris: Me when I want beautiful holiday ... j'monte in Paris!
