Paris chic, and floating on la Seine
Today, Astryd (aka my-shopping-on-the-Champs-Elysees-buddy) and I shop... on the Champs Elysees. She needs to buy a pair of flip-flops and a singlet. I need a Carla Bruni CD. Astryd gets neither a pair of flip-flops nor a singlet. And I end up with two Carla Bruni CDs. A comprehensive makeover in Sephora - thank you Bobbi Brown ladies - we both exit with our little Sephora bags with little things with big price-tags.
With our million dollar faces (but backpacker couture), we go gawking at LV (spectator sport). For such a high-end joint, you'd think they'd at least put a toilet seat on the ladies' loo. I decide that I really don't need a 395 Euro pair of sunglasses, and that the document holder I've been eye-ing off can wait for another trip (which is really just another excuse to put on my detachable hump again and go traveling).
We take pictures by the Arc de Triomphe, then walk (a long ways) to Musee Rodin. It's shutting in half an hour, so we settle for paying 1 Euro to sit in the park where we eat (overpriced) Haagen Dazs and snooze.
For the final part of today's rather haphazard itinerary, it's a boat ride along la Seine on Bateaux Mouches - free tickets compliments of our friend Simonne who used to be a tour guide. With sore feet, we are happy just to be floating along and off our feet. Tourists atop bridges take pictures of us taking pictures of them. A little girl waves down at a middle-aged man sporting a paparazzi-sized camera (must be American), and some pint-sized peeps run around deck shouting "Coucou!". One of them has beautiful, unruly and windswept hair. Tent hovels line the waterway - who knows if they are the homes of the homeless (an
oxymoron?) or backpackers living on the cheap. The young and old laze in the sun like picnickers in a park. Two men sunbathe with only thongs on. And not the sort you wear on your feet.
By 9pm, Astryd and I part company - tired, happy and sunburnt... and still looking fabulous. We'll always have Paris. And make-overs in Sephora.
With our million dollar faces (but backpacker couture), we go gawking at LV (spectator sport). For such a high-end joint, you'd think they'd at least put a toilet seat on the ladies' loo. I decide that I really don't need a 395 Euro pair of sunglasses, and that the document holder I've been eye-ing off can wait for another trip (which is really just another excuse to put on my detachable hump again and go traveling).
We take pictures by the Arc de Triomphe, then walk (a long ways) to Musee Rodin. It's shutting in half an hour, so we settle for paying 1 Euro to sit in the park where we eat (overpriced) Haagen Dazs and snooze.
For the final part of today's rather haphazard itinerary, it's a boat ride along la Seine on Bateaux Mouches - free tickets compliments of our friend Simonne who used to be a tour guide. With sore feet, we are happy just to be floating along and off our feet. Tourists atop bridges take pictures of us taking pictures of them. A little girl waves down at a middle-aged man sporting a paparazzi-sized camera (must be American), and some pint-sized peeps run around deck shouting "Coucou!". One of them has beautiful, unruly and windswept hair. Tent hovels line the waterway - who knows if they are the homes of the homeless (an
oxymoron?) or backpackers living on the cheap. The young and old laze in the sun like picnickers in a park. Two men sunbathe with only thongs on. And not the sort you wear on your feet.By 9pm, Astryd and I part company - tired, happy and sunburnt... and still looking fabulous. We'll always have Paris. And make-overs in Sephora.
posted by Christina at 11:54 PM
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