So I haven’t gotten around to writing about our last two vacation days for a couple reasons.  The main one is that this past weekend, I was hit HARD with the flu.  So I’ve been in bed for most of the past three days, and I’m only now starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel.  I can’t remember the last time I felt this yucky.

But the other reason I haven’t written much is because we didn’t really do anything.  On day 6, the day after Disneyland, we didn’t leave our apartment until lunchtime, and then spent the better part of the early afternoon looking for a place to eat that wasn’t full.  Parisians really get out on the weekends.  We finally sat down at a little cafe a bit after 2 o’clock.

The lunch was delicious (of course), expensive (of course), and full of the food I wish was still around me.  So after this, we went food shopping.  We went back to Le Bon Marche, the food section, and got some souvenir-y food things like Dijon mustard, chocolates, jam, and the like.  We even bought parmesan, cheddar, and brie cheese. Hey, it’s worth a potentially stinky suitcase.

After this, and after fighting the day’s rain and wind, we headed back.  We needed to clean the apartment and pack up.

So that’s what we did most of the evening while the kids watched Ratatouille (which is much more fun to watch now).  We finally crashed at dark-thirty, only to wake up again at…  well, dark-thirty, to catch our flight.

Day 7 was our leave day (sniff sniff).  We thought our flight was at 8 a.m., but it turns out it was at 8:40.  Not a major difference, except that we left the apartment via taxi at 5 a.m., not sure how long it would take to get to the airport (with traffic, it could easily take an hour).  We needed to be there two hours ahead of departure, since it was an international flight, so our goal was 6 a.m.

Well, we got there at 5:30.  For an 8:40 flight.  Check in was super fast, so we were sitting at a table at the closed Starbucks at 5:50, waiting for 6:30, when it would open.  Let’s just say that we had plenty of time to kill at Charles De Gaulle International Airport, quite possibly one of the strangest-looking airports either of us have seen.  Felt like we were in a Bond movie.

So we got back home, safe and sound, only missing one piece of luggage.  The one that happened to have the brie and the parmesan.  Luckily, it came to our home the next day, and it wasn’t too stinky.  Still totally edible.

This past week has definitely been a recovery week, and the house is still a wreck.  But that’s also in part because of our household’s Flu Takeover 2009. Needless to say, though, Paris has probably wrecked us for life. I’m not sure I’ll ever eat food as good again. I can’t wait to go back.

I have news to share… tomorrow!  Stay tuned.

Day 5 was… (drumroll)… Disneyland!  We didn’t tell Chickpea where we were headed, so when our train was about five minutes from the entrance, we asked her where we thought we were going.

Her answer:  “Chick-Fil-A?”

You may have noticed that Chick is into this leg-in-the-air pose. I have NO idea where she got it from, but I find it hilarious.

So we pretty much knew she’d be happily surprised.  And she was.

There’s not much to say about our day, because it was a typical Disney sort-of day.  Disneyland Paris is a spitting image of the one in Anaheim; maybe a wee bit smaller.

Chickpea is at a really fun age to do Disney — she asked several times, “Is this real or pretend?”

It was also odd to be cold at Disneyland.  The few times either of us have been, we’ve been sweaty and sunburned.

We left when it closed, at 7 p.m., and headed back to the apartment via metro.  I carried Chick’s souvenir, an oversized Minnie Mouse helium balloon.  It got stuck in the metro entrance gate, having closed before I pulled the balloon through.  Kabob had to squeeze it through via the other side.  I felt like I was in a cartoon.

So with four days of major sight seeing, then a day of Disneyland, we knew that tomorrow, our final day in Paris, needed to be low key.  We crashed HARD that night.

Day four demanded a small break.  We had been go-go-go since we arrived in Paris, and since it was Thanksgiving Day, we decided to take it a bit easier today.  We slept in, had a leisurely breakfast, and then headed out of the apartment at 1 p.m.

Today, our only plan was the Eiffel Tower, which happens to be in one of the nicest neighborhoods of Paris.  So we thought that area would be a fun place to find a somewhat-Thanksgivingy meal.

We didn’t necessarily find traditional Thanksgiving food, but we did find deliciousness.  Rue Cler is a quaint walking street, full of great cafés, markets, patisseries, and chocolateries.

So Thanksgiving lunch was at Café Central, an adorable little corner café filled with locals and American expats.  I had the best soup I’ve ever had in. my. life.  French onion soup (except there, it’s just “onion soup” — kinda like Chinese food is just “food” in China) with crusty bread at the bottom, amazing broth and sweet onions, and a one inch-thick lid of cheese in a individual tureen.  I finished it, not sure if I could tackle the next course.

I could at least eat a few bites, though.  My cobb salad came, and it had bacon, avacado, and turkey.  There was my Thanksgiving turkey.  All these ingredients are very hard to find where we live, so I was in hog (ha! get it?) heaven.

Kabob had lamb, but it was prepared very differently than it is where we live.  I sampled a bit, and it didn’t taste gamey at all, which is why I usually don’t like lamb.

The kids shared an enormous helping of spaghetti, which was very tasty.  Worth the 9 euros.

(By the way, I’ll interject here and state that I found every French waiter — and almost all French people — extremely friendly and gracious.  I didn’t experience the stereotype at all.  It could be because we were coming from our particular country, and not from the States, where people tend to be friendly in an overkill sort of way.  I’d say France lies somewhere between the States and our current country in terms of friendliness to strangers.  I thoroughly enjoyed the French people.)

Anyway, so after lunch, we wandered and window shopped, and then slowly sauntered to the Eiffel Tower.  This was something I sorta prepared for disappointment, so my expectations were actually exceeded.  Many French find it ugly.  I find it fascinating.

The lines to go up the Tower were outrageous.  We stood in line for what felt like hours, and it was crazy windy.  I prepared myself for some killer weather up top.

We finally got in the elevator and went up to the second level.  You buy tickets to go to the top on the second level, for an additional 5 euros each.  Once we were there, we felt how high we already were.  The views of Paris from there were fantastic, as was the insane wind and rain.  And the crowds.  We stood out on the second floor, took the customary photos and watched the Tower sparkle with Christmas lights, and then headed inside to warmth and crowdedness.

We thought about going to the top, but ultimately decided against it.  At this point, it was night, we were already tired and cold, and felt like it would be more fun if it was just us grownups.  So we got in line to go back down.  We’ll do it next time.

While in line, we chatted with some people from New York behind us (or as Chickpea says, “Yew Nork”).  She became BFFs with their 10-year-old girl, Carrie, and continues to pray for her nightly.

We took the metro back to the apartment, where we Skyped with both sides of our family for two hours.  This meant that the kids were deliriously tired, and eventually passed out at 11 p.m.

It was a fun day, but knew we needed to get good rest for tomorrow’s adventure.