We got back from a really terrific trip to Paris yesterday. We had a lovely time, even though the exchange rate was just beyond brutal on the Goldberg budget. No, not looking for sympathy (“like water from a stone, Goldberg” — The Couch). But do be forewarned: $9 dollar cokes are not rare.
No, I didn’t say “cheese-eating surrender monkey” to anyone while I was over there. But I will be saying “you lie like a French weatherman” for the foreseeable future, because the forecasts were never even close to reliable. We sped through the Louvre — there’s really no other way if you’re not going to spend a week. I still think the Mona Lisa is overrated. We saw the Coronation of Napoleon, one of my favorite paintings, if not necessarily one of my favorite events. The Eiffel Tower, the greatest white elephant from a World’s Fair ever, was great fun for my daughter (though she takes considerable pride that it is shorter than the Empire State Building).
Anyway, I’m sweating fois gras and have work to do.We won’t make this a family tradition — we like Thanksgiving too much. But hopefully we’ll be back sooner rather than later, ideally after King Dollar is back on his throne.