Stop pretending to speak French

My French is better than my Italian, Croatian, and Dutch. I can ask a few questions and order food. Except that beyond my repertoire of memorized phrases, I know nothing, so as soon as someone answers my question or asks me something about my order, I panic and usually say something in German-English with a French accent that gives my ignorance away. So I should probably stop pretending to speak French since there is no way I understand it.
#thanksalotduallingo

I'm not sure if it's my awkward language attempts or mid-travel slumps, but I've been a little less enthusiastic a out France than I thought I'd be. I went to Paris four years ago with my parents and it was like a wonderful dream. We drove from Belgium into France and stayed just outside of Paris our first night, which was probably the best part because it was so quiet. We stopped by the Somme battlefields from WWI on the way the way there and that was also good.

Forced to leave the peaceful countryside where we stayed on Thursday, we bussed to Monet's garden, which was so so beautiful. I loved seeing all of the flowers and smelling all of the good smells (and listening to all the German tourists--Germans are such good vacationers!). Then we went to Versailles, which has been only my bucket list since high school but it was more overwhelming than enjoyable. Granted, I've been to dozens of famous European attractions in the past few weeks so maybe it's lost it's novelty, but Versailles was just so big and gaudy and the intensely decorated rooms were too much for my meager senses and I just wanted to get out to the gardens. Except it suddenly got really hot and the gardens went on for miles so that was also exhausting. We did get a little row boat and spent a half hour in the Grand Canal resting our feet and pretending to know how to steer a boat and that was enjoyable. From there we went to the Musee d'Orsay except as you might have guessed, we were kind of drained from the day and it was already 6pm and remember those twenty museums we'd already visited? So I kind of felt like a zombie wandering around the museum trying to appreciate Impressionism, but ultimately failing.

We did not appreciate any museums on Friday and spent the day instead sweating all of our liquids out while walking around outside in the humid 90 degree weather. We saw the Sacre Coeur basilica and spent some time wandering around the art community by it, and that was possibly my favorite part of Paris--I love the idea that artists can just be real artists and make a living by selling their paintings. Probably because I secretly wish I was an artist (or not so secretly since I just posted it on a public domain).

More highlights from Friday? Seeing Victor Hugo's house, devouring half of a watermelon for dinner to compensate for aforementioned sweating, and discovering a two level grocery store (we probably spent 45 minutes looking at the food there, haha). Oh and I accidentally on purpose bought three bags of lettuce and a bottle of salad dressing for the rest of the trip. #win #ateitall

Contrary to my belief that I would never rise again after going to bed on Friday, Saturday came just the same and my shoes got 16 more miles in of running/walking. We had a street art tour around the city in the morning (who knew that was an organized thing and people gave tours about it?) and wandered around the city during our lunch break (desperately searching for a bathroom for a half of it since Europe doesn't believe in public restrooms). Because of these earlier activities, I arrived at the Louvre a wee bit weary and the museum-feet-syndrome set in but I was still able to enjoy the experience. I still swooned in front of every Napoleon painting and I perused the ancient Egyptian section with pleasure as well. Because once you've seen 652 important paintings, you start to lose interest in the other 987 important paintings you could see.

We got dinner at a French cafe/pub near the opera house and then went to the ballet! Where we were allowed to sit. In tiny little chairs at the back. But it was still wonderful and beautiful. Despite our attempts to look up the plot beforehand so we would understand the ballet better, we were still pretty lost with the dancing mimes, jesters, thieves, and women who changed costume too often to keep track of them. Still great though.

We went to church on Sunday morning and were quarantined from the normal French-speaking congregation in a smaller chapel where someone translated the meeting into mumbled English for us--except I think the real reason they separated us was because they knew we would slaughter their hymns by mispronouncing all the words and singing off key because we didn't know the songs and couldn't hear the accompaniment.

To add some religious diversity, we also visited Notre Dame, Sainte Chapelle and a large mosque, all of which were splendid.

THEN WE WENT UP THE EIFFEL TOWER AT NIGHT AND IT WAS AWESOME! (All caps used to emphasize the awesome-ness of the ascent up in the sky).
The perfect end to Paris (see included pictures for proof).

As long we forget the thirty minutes of desperation literally running around to try to find a bathroom because the only one I could find had a non-moving line of thirty people.
On the bright side, I got to pee on top of the Eiffel Tower (no picture provided).