This whole trip, we walked miles and miles every day. Mostly in search of food. Somehow I totally flaked though and didn't take any pictures of the miles and miles of train ride we took to visit this guy at his house. He has the fanciest house I'll ever see in my whole life. Here's a picture of me trying to get in. I like looking at details. There's a lot of punch you in the face spectacle there though and lots of really nice views. It's just room after room of opulent craziness. The opulent is the decor and architecture, the craziness is the tourist (who apparently want to murder me). Hi! I might do this to our ceiling. Nicole called this the "Wall of Mirrors" (bears are allowed to be one letter off). Windows. Here's another mandatory tourist shot. For some reason, the fountains were all off, but these guys were cool. We took long walks in the woods to see this little tiny house. Nicole was happy we finally made it. This is the kind of stuff I have tattooed on me but for real. I would probably get this tattooed on me. This is a royal potty. It's very minimal. I gave Nicole a flower as we were leaving.
Hey look, it's another high school French class thing! This is a croque madame. It's like a French grilled cheese sandwich with ham and an egg on top. They made mine doubly unhealthy since they knew I would like that. We ate these before going shopping at super fancy Pretemps. Then we ate mousse.
At night, we heard noisy punk-ish sounding music coming up into our hotel room. Clearly, this is pertinent to my interests, so we went searching for the source of such noise. There was a band randomly playing in the street in front of some cafes for people like this to listen to. In case the audience wasn't entertained enough by the music, screaming guy decided to transform into screaming naked guy. This guy loved taking cellphone pictures of screaming naked guy. We think that this is screaming naked guy's girlfriend. She was getting tanked and dancing in the street. I don't know how we always end up at places like this no matter where we go, but I like it.
After we had enough screaming and naked, we went to eat couscous down the street. Couscous is a big deal in Paris I guess, since there are a lot of Algerian and Moroccan immigrants and immigrants always make the best authentic food. This is the only meal I ate the entire time I was in Paris where I was painfully full afterward.
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