After my blog yesterday, we took a nap which accidentally lasted till midnight. That’s fine though, because we’re on vacation!
We spent today at Disneyland Paris. We’re definitely Disney kids, so it made sense for us to visit. I grew up and worked at Disneyland in CA, and I’ve been to the Disney parks in Orlando, Tokyo and now Paris. All that’s left is Hong Kong!
(Mike's happy place...)
Anyway, the Paris version of Disneyland is pretty incredible. It’s familiar enough to be Disneyland, but different enough to make visiting an exciting and unique trip. Space Mountain was totally different than any of the other versions I’ve been on (particularly the 360 degree loop) the Phantom Manor (Haunted House) was seriously creepy and Big Thunder Mountain was really, really big. We were both really happy that we made the time to take a trip to the park.
(Their fancy castle in a place that actually has castles... and the Skypia Beanstalk...inside joke... don't you hate when people have inside jokes?)
(Phantom Manor & Pirates of the Caribbean)
Now, an observation. We’ve all heard about the horrible stereotypical loud American tourists – and yes, I’ve seen them too. In the middle of a bustling city with people going about their daily business, it’s often a loud, English-speaking tourist getting in somebody’s way. After spending the day with French, Spanish, British, Italian and German tourists at a place where everyone is a tourist, it becomes very clear that obnoxious tourists are the same no matter what their country of origin. People are clueless, demanding and in many cases have little to no control of their offspring.
(this is my Disneyland Paris Face)
Mike and I both experienced the same thing twice in 2 separate line situations (one an Italian family and the other a French family) where children – about 3 feet tall – found themselves with their faces comfortably snuggled in our butt cheeks. I’ll admit it was freezing, so perhaps they were just trying to warm their frozen noses… but you’d think any good parent would advise their children to keep their noses out of the buttocks of strangers.
Ok, maybe I’m exaggerating, but we seriously got more than a few headbutts to our butts. On occasion they were followed by a parent screaming at their child in their native tongue after which the child would stay still for about 5 seconds before their tiny little fists could just not keep still any longer and they would explode into my spleen. Fun.
Also fun, the Metro. So, you know how Euros come in bills and coins? And you know how when you want to buy a ticket you can either use your credit card or Euros? And you know how sometimes the credit card function doesn’t work if you’re a foreigner without the little chip in French credit cards? And how then you can’t use paper Euros to buy the tickets because they only accept coins? And how there’s no change machine to turn your paper bills that you get at the ATM so you can use them in the stupid ticket machines? And how you go ask information and they have no idea how to help you turn your paper bills into usable ticket-buying coins? And how no one will give you change for paper bills at the convenience stores you go into… and so you decide to buy something to get change but they only give you paper bills even if you ask for coins? So you have to buy a series of small items in multiple transactions at different train station convenience stores for items that are less than a Euro… like one lollipop. Or one packet of gum? And then you get on the train and it’s dirty and filled with weirdos? I love that… wait. I totally don’t.
Now we’re back at the hotel and comfortable again.
Tomorrow: Eating and Shopping our way through the Left Bank and Latin Quarter.