Or, as some might say, the City of A**holes. I'm really one of the more indulgent Americans when it comes to Parisians, accepting (even apologizing for?) their eccentricities and flat-out rudeness. I'm all for being flexible and trying to appreciate cultural differences. But to experience it as an adult is one thing; to do so as a parent is another. Their behavior is simply unacceptable (I mean the Parisians, not my children). We had one experience on the Metro which was so over the top, Tracy and I will never forget it. It started (and ended) with a ticket clerk so offensively rude (despite the fact we weren't even speaking with her) that it boggles the mind. Beyond that, the general culture there is that children should act like adults - dare they indulge their adolescence, it is some affront to civilization. Whatever. I don't need life lessons from a culture that finds Jerry Lewis and Gerard Depardieu funny.
We still managed to have plenty of fun experiences and I'm pretty sure that the kids were none the wiser for the French attitude. A couple nice meals; a lovely time at the Louvre, where it became increasingly clear that Ben loves art of all sorts - the massive paintings of Louis-David and Delacroix must inspire awe; a trek up the Eiffel Tower to gander upon this truly magnificent cityscape (you can't hear local voices from up there); a Ferris Wheel ride fun enough to rival our Edinburgh spin; and wonderful meandering through the small streets of various arrondisements.
Tracy and I will likely return, but it's fair to say that of all our family citybreaks, Paris was the toughest to traverse. The Portnoy Five will continue to explore Europe and beyond, but the Gallic portion of that trek is complete.
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