We had been given pretty specific instructions on how to get to the Museum, so we felt pretty confident. We boarded the train and got to our destination stop without any issues, although the odor from yesterday did make another appearance shortly before our destination. We were very glad to exit the metro.
We arrived about 45 minutes before the Museum opened, so we had some time to kill and it was freezing outside. We found a little cafe across the street from the museum and headed inside. Some tea and coffee ordered and we were good to go.
One thing that was noticed in England last year was the plethora of amusing signage. It seems the trend will continue here in France, as the picture illustrates a sign posted on the cash register in the little cafe. I believe the translation is "Watch Your Dog." One might wonder why one would bring a dog into an eating establishment in the first place, but there you are.
Once we headed inside the museum, we were amazed at the building. The Museum is an old converted train station and the architecture is amazing. We spent the better part of three hours at the museum and captured some amazing photographs of some wonderful art.
When we were done at the museum, we decided to head over to the Eiffel Tower, as it was not a very long metro ride. However, once we exited the metro at our stop for the Tower, we had about a ten minute walk to actually get there. It was at this point that I came to the conclusion that it is not the cold that kills people; it is the wind. It was only about 25 degrees and with the wind it was likely in the teens. This would prove to be some interesting foreshadowing, because when we arrived at the Eiffel Tower (faces frozen in the last expressions we were able to move them into), we were told that it was closed for the day due to the wind and snow. We did manage to get some pretty amazing pictures of the tower from the ground. We are planning to try to get to the top another day while we are here. We were pretty cold at this point and the idea of grabbing some lunch indoors with heat was starting to become very appealing. We headed back to the metro station with the intention of finding some food. As usual, the afternoon was about to get a little weird.As we waited for the metro, a man approached Laura and started making conversation. I have learned that this is not entirely unusual, particularly when people overhear us talking--they can immediately tell that we are Americans. He began socializing with her and was being very friendly. When the train arrived, he got on with us and continued chatting. It was then that he suggested he and Laura exchange phone numbers. Laura is not enjoying the conversation but is trying to be polite. I am elbowing her as subtly as one can do such a thing, because I am starting to have that feeling that this guy is looking for more than a phone number. She wisely does not give hers, of course, but he writes his down. I then announce "Oh, here's our stop, Laura. We must go." Apparently I have become the cruise director on our trips, and I am usually in charge of the maps. I know very well that this is not our stop but I want to get away from this individual as quickly as possible. As we go to get off the train the man yells that it was nice meeting her and her daughter.
Stop.
This is not the first time, nor the first country in which Laura has been mistaken for my mother. This upsets her a great deal, and she spent an hour later that evening in a store looking for wrinkle cream not available in the US, presumably to combat what she feels is the source of the constant confusion surrounding my parentage. Her self-esteem was somewhat renewed upon receiving several cat calls later in the evening.
But I digress.
As we waited for the next train, we decided that henceforth, Laura will claim to be Canadian.
Tomorrow we plan to visit Versailles and the Notre Dame Cathedral.
Forecast: 28F and snowing.
Bon soir!
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