As the end of our 3rd and last full week in Paris comes to a close the 3 of us have found ourselves feeling, well, a little more Parisian. It seems as though we ambitiously checked off the "must sees" in the first couple weeks, so we've found a lot of gratification now in the days that are unplanned and improvised. We've been here long enough to now have a sense of "normal" and familiarity. I no longer feel guilty going to the same boulangerie because its the one I like the most. I don't feel like I have to have my camera on hand every second because I might miss something I'll never see again. I think i've finally figured out the hour when the greeting changes from bonjour to bonsoir. We've also taken a liking to the famous Parisian sport of people watching. During these last few days, as Mark and I have ventured out to see a few more things on our radar, we've been soaking up more than just what the audioguide can tell us. Theres a lot of life to observe in this old city and sometimes you have to slow down to catch it.

On Monday, while Mark did a solo tour through St. Germain and the Isle de St. Louis, attempting to scope out some of the unusual and lesser known gems in the city, Andrew and I checked out the green scene. I packed up the stroller, picked up a lardon baguette (oh, how i'll miss these) and went north to Parc Monceau on the border of the 8th and 17th Arrondissements. Our walk took us through a part of the city I was relatively unfamiliar with, but obliged to see. Similar to the Upper East side of New York, as we approached the Champs de Elysees, the haute couture and glorious apartment buildings became more apparent in the same way they do as you approach 5th Ave. The "responsible mom" took over the "tourist" side of me as I waited until I crossed the 10 lane boulevard to snap a picture of the famed Arc with the billowing French flag right in front. I do wonder how many Parisians actually like spending time on this street that seems to have more American influence (Nike, McDonalds and Disney….oh my) than any place I've seen here. We continued on our way another 10 minutes or so until the sounds of the traffic and honking taxis gave way to the laughing and cheering of children. Hundreds of them. It makes me a little envious to think of the fabulous field trips that schools here have to choose from and I never see fewer than 10 school groups out exploring on any particular day. Anyway, there was a lot of fun and play taking place in the park when we arrived, but as loud as it was, Andrew seemed to find it quite peaceful in our little space under a big tree. I'm not normally good at spending time in parks and relaxing as the day passes by. Here, though, it is a welcome change from the constant "on the go" of city life.

That being said, it's no surprise that the French are tricky people to figure out. Those same people who are known for being curt, in a hurry and not to be bothered are the same people who appreciate downtime whether its for 3 hours in a cafe sipping espresso watching the world go by or lounging in beautiful parks catching up with friends. Andrew and I were happy to share the latter with them on this day.

Later in the week Mark planned a special morning outing to the catacombs of Paris. Fortunately for him, he got to leave his claustrophobic wife at home with Andrew (who probably would have loved it as much as Dad). His pictures, including the short video of him descending the concrete spiral staircase into the underground darkness, made my hands sweat. I would have never made it, but his trip sounded pretty cool (If you like seeing thousands skeletons piled up underground in the dark). While he is reluctant to write about his experience, he will no doubt love to tell you about it, so be sure to ask when we get back to California.

When he returned from his journey, I got to set out on my own for, in Mark's opinion, an equally terrifying experience to do a little shopping. I've never claimed to be a good shopper, unless it's in a grocery store. I like shopping, I just don't do it very efficiently, especially when there are too many choices. Welcome to Paris, where the choices are endless - from specialty shops, trendy boutiques to large department stores. In a small way its similar to San Francisco, but the whole "specialty store" is a new and beautiful concept to me. These boutiques, which specialize in something, whether its chocolate, wine, cheese, pastries are not just unique because of their knowledgeable and proud owners, but they have a way of making every single thing look like the most special thing on the planet. A tree made out of macarons, a display of wine bottles on a shelf, the cheese case with chevre shaped into little "etoiles". These stores are art galleries in themselves, and yes, I've shamelessly taken pictures of many of these storefronts. I've enjoyed my chocolate, wine and cheese purchases not just for the products I've taken away, but from my friendly conversations with the artisians who own the store. They are proud of their products and very happy to share them with you. I won't soon forget the owner of the wine store on Rue Cler who entertained my question as to whether or not he likes California wines. (He had two for sale out of the thousands of bottles in his shop) He politely answered that he likes California wines when he is in California. And then added that he'd never been to California.

On the other end of the shopping spectrum, there are the massive department stores. There is a very good chance that I will leave Paris without ever having set foot into the Bon Marche. I find department stores and shopping malls intimidating and potentially dangerous especially if you enter without needing something specific. I was, however, curious to find the "Bayesh Vay" which I had heard such great things about. Before our trip, I listened to an audio book called "Paris to the Moon" where the author, Adam Gopnik, tells a few funny stories about his necessary trips to the all-in-one store with everything from hardware to perfume. I was curious and kept meaning to look up the proper spelling of "Bayesh Vay" so that I could find it and make a trip of my own. (The downside of listening to a book on tape).

And then it hit me...as I was coming home from the Marais the other day, I passed by a massive building with the tagline, "The Parisians Favourite Department Store. Le BHV." There it was. B - H - V. Apparently the non-french speaker in me didn't understand the pronunciations of the french alphabet, but I'll consider this my lesson of the day.

Of course I had to go in just to see what it was all about, and fortunately for me, I had Andrew along. He would be waking up from his nap and be ready to eat soon so I only had a few minutes. The place was definitely a black hole and while I only whisked around the 1st of 6 floors, I was utterly overwhelmed by the vast and random selection of products and massive amounts of people. It was just long enough that I was happy to leave, but short enough to make me curious about going back to see it all.

And so I begin my "to do" list for our next trip to Paris.