London friends wanted to go to the Eiffel Tower on Saturday morning. We were happy to take them, but opted to hang out on the ground, in the Champ de Mars, while they did the whole waiting in line to go up and then waiting in line to come down thing. It was a gorgeous morning, and Sawyer was psyched at the opportunity to go to the only “unofficial” dog park we have found in these parts. Unfortunately, it was a heck of a lot colder than we thought when we left for that little outing, and the four of us pretty much froze our butts off out there. I was glad that we were on the ground- our friends said the wind was pretty wicked up top.
It’s hard not to love Paris on a day like Saturday. Even though she is whipping your ass with a cold wind that doesn’t stop, and the public toilet is too awful to even consider using, and you can no longer feel your feet because you stupidly didn’t wear socks.
Despite those minor inconveniences, Paris still rocks on a day like Saturday.
Rock on, friends, and wear socks.