My feet are complaining big time.

In the past 48 hours, we have:

Walked to the Eiffel Tower and seen it at night

Been to Notre Dame

Been to the Louvre

Been to the Musee d’Orsay

Taken off our shoes and recovered at a fountain at theTuileries 

Gone back to the Louvre

Walked along the Seine River

Gone back to the Musee d’Orsay

Gone to the Pompidou Center 

Eaten quiche twice, hamburgers once, duck once, crepes once, wine lots of times

And we celebrated 38 wonderful years together.

The most common language heard is French, of course. The second most common, hands down, is American English. We are shocked at how much American English we are hearing. I would expect British English, since we are just across the channel, but I haven’t heard any yet. After that, it’s a toss up between Italian, Spanish, and Australian English.

Anyone who says that the French are unfriendly is talking about a France that I am not experiencing. To be sure, the people who I meet are mostly people who work in the tourist industry, either at tour sites, restaurants, etc. However, everyone I have met is funny, warm, speaks English better than I speak French, and seems sincerely happy to be asked for help and advice (and shares information graciously). 

Most of the local people I have met are young adults who have traveled outside of France. Last night, our waitress told us that she lived in the mid-west for a year (I can’t remember the city). Our waiter tonight lived in London for a year. 

Whether guards at the Louvre, cashiers at Carrefour, or ticket sellers at the Metro station, I am met with a smile, a polite greeting, and an answer (in charming, French-accented English. How cool is that?)

But my feet are begging me to stop the madness. They are trying to convince me that I have already walked 800 kilometers. What will I do on Tuesday?