Paris, Day 1

We drummed all the students out of their rooms early this morning, had breakfast at the hotel, and loaded the bus. During breakfast we heard the lamest complaint of the trip so far: A student (I honestly can't remember whom) was upset because the sink in her room only had hot water so she had to use that for brushing her teeth. She said, "It was the grossest thing ever!" If that's as bad as it gets, it's a pretty charmed life she's led.

Outside the hotel on the bus we did a passport check, as we always do, and everyone had theirs. Then we took a half-an-hour ride to King's Cross station where we had six minutes (and not one more) to buy lunches to eat on the train. We regrouped to go through security and Chris Hinds announced that he'd lost his passport. Mr. Witt, Alex King and I all pawed through all his bags, to no avail. Simon, our tour guide, called the bus driver and found he hadn't left yet, so Simon ran off to check the bus. Mrs. Scheck generously offered to stay behind with Chris, if necessary, on the grounds that she'd been to Paris before, but I wouldn't have sat for that. Luckily Simon ran back with Chris' passport before I had to argue with Mr. Witt and let him "win" so I could go to Paris (What? He's been before!).

We all got on the train, loaded the bags into the overhead compartments, and sat down. Then Mrs. Mortensen delivered Chris' train ticket, which he'd dropped while loading bags. Seriously.

Riding the train provided the students with a start example of a valuable lesson, but I don't think many of them were listening carefully enough to hear it. If one listens carefully in a train traveling between England and France, one can hear why Americans have a reputation for being loud and obnoxious. Shhh... Listen for it... BECAUSE WE ARE! Even the adults shushing the students made more noise than the assorted French, Enlgish, and other travelers. We are a raucous, boorish, impolite people. On the up-side, the Americans on the train were certainly having the most fun.

We pulled into the station in Paris, dropped our bags at the hotel, and went immediately back into the heart of the city to visit the Louvre. I'm not really sure how to explain what a cool museum it is; the building itself it a piece of art. The works inside took my breath away repeatedly. I learned that my camera overheats. Of course, I didn't get to see half of everything I wanted to before the museum closed, but that's just the way it goes.

After the Louvre, we went out to have Flemish pizza. Mrs. Larson, Miss Laister, and I bought cokes. When the waitress brought two, there was some confusion. I was chided for accepting one before Miss Laister, so I handed it to her. While we haggled, Mrs. Larson took a sip of hers. Before she could set it down, the waitress reappeared, informed us with sign language that the cokes belonged to the next table, took the coke out of Mrs. Larson's hand, grabbed Miss Laister's, and took them to Mr. Witt and Simon at the next table. Mrs. Larson just sat in shock, speechless.

It was important to me to ride to the top of the Eiffel Tower. After dinner, different chaperons announced different destinations and kids got to choose. I went with Mr. Witt and Mrs. Houser and a small group to the tower, which is quite impressive from below. We stood in a long line and, just before we reached the front, they announced the top floor closed for the night. Disappointed, we went to the second highest observation deck and took pictures of the city at night. I realized I'm glad we didn't go all the way to the top, because I want to bring my wife, Paige, back to the city one day, and I'd like to take her up there the first time I get to go.

After the tower we met up with Mrs. Larson's group. It was late enough by then that we knew the trains would stop soon, but we decided to risk it. After all, how often are we in Paris? It already seemed the theme of the trip would be "almost" for Mr. Witt. First, he missed out on theater, then the top of the Eiffel Tower, then his desire to see the church of Sacre Cour at night. That just couldn't stand, so we took three trains to Montmarte. Then we walked up to see Sacre Cour all lit up. Then we walked down to the Moulin Rouge. Very cool. Then we split up into groups of four with one adult in each and took cabs back. Seeing Paris by cab was a nice addition to navigating it by bus and Metro. We all arrived back at the hotel just in time to see one of our chaperons, Tia Jones, pull up on the back of a scooter driven by a French stranger who'd generously offered to give a very lost American woman a ride home. Tia is not the kind of lady to take rides from strange men, so seeing her ride up in that way was so incongruous as to be hilarious. We felt a little guilty about laughing when we heard what a harrowing night she'd had, lost and wandering all over the city alone. Still, pretty funny.