You know how I said that our walk from the Marais to the Eiffel Tower was approximately really far? I used Google Maps to calculate a more precise figure. We walked at least 6.5 miles that day. The cheap flats I was wearing are destroyed, as are my legs (probably because of said flats).
48 hours later, my hips and heels still hurt. If I had it to do over I wouldn’t have changed—the only thing uglier than a tourist wearing running shoes in Paris is a tourist wearing Crocs in Paris—and it’s not as if Paris is lacking in public transit. I realize it’s my own fault, but still. Ouch.
Despite walking plenty every day of our vacation and over a quarter marathon that last day, I realized when I returned home that the effort of putting my body into my jeans resembled scenes in old movies where girls tighten each others’ corsets. As any girl with a healthy dose of self confidence will do, I blamed the dryers at the laundromat…until I stepped on the scale. Three weeks in Lovers’ La La Land was enough to increase my body weight by over 3%! (And, no, there is no baby inside of me (yet).)
Thus, I have been reflecting upon all of the fantastic meals that Jef bought me. Eating was one of the best things about our trip. I’m too poor to go out for French specialities on my own, so Jef spoiled me rotten.
So today, dear readers, I thought I’d share some of the best things we ate. 50% to make you jealous, 50% to rationalize gaining kilos (plural) in a mere three weeks.
Believe it or not, I have more good food to show off, but it’s my birthday and looking at these pictures has made me hungry, so I’m going to go buy myself a birthday sam’ich. Stay tuned for more droolage.