Les Hommes

Pronounced: layz ohm
Means: The guys

A return to the traveling tales now. And humor. :) I actually hope these boys DO translate to blogging as well as they did in person... This may turn into a "you had to be there" blog, but we'll try. :)

Besides our blue-eyed Betsy, there were three particular people that had quite a bit to do with shaping our Paris experience. Specifically, these gentlemen:


From the left to the right, we have Mael, Sylvain, and then Max. Oh gosh, I'm laughing just looking at them.

I'll start with Sylvain, since he's where the connections start:

I met Sylvain about four years ago when I was studying abroad in London. He came to stay with my English host family because-- dontcha know?-- he's a world renowned art expert and had to do some research in London. Oh! Sure! He found out that I was planning to come to Paris later after school ended and asked me where I was staying. "Probably just a hostel," I offered, and without hesitating he responded, "Zat ees reediculous! You must stay weeth me and my familee!" ...OKAY! When staying with Sylvain and his family, I was impressed with his exquisite taste for all the finer things, and amused at his blatantly aristocratic leanings. At one point, he told me all about how the French Revolution was really not the best thing to have ever happened, and, in fact, King Louis actually contributed quite a lot in his day. I got the impression that, were Sylvain to have been around during the Revolution, he would have held his head high all the way to the Guillotine. :)

My description of him had Heidi initially a bit intimidated, even though I did my best to convince her of his darling demeanor and generous attitude. Our first meeting with him was enjoyable and very polite-- but I think Heidi might have continued to feel a bit intimidated by Sylvain's expertise and taste had we not thrown Max into the mix...

Max is Sylvain's brother and the most hilarious, lively, entertaining caricature I may have ever met. Within minutes of being in our company, he was poking fun of his big brother, pretending to fall asleep when Sylvain talked about anything, and Sylvain, in turn, threw it right back at him. When Max rhapsodized about food (he's a nutritionist and a CHEF!), Sylvain interrupted with jesting interjections. Like so:
MAX (to Heidi): So, you see-- we have dis cheese... And CHEESE--
SYLVAIN: Is made from MEELK...
MAX: Oui, of course, and it--
SYLVAIN: And it's WHIIITE...
MAX (giving up and playing along): And, you know, it comes from COWS...
SYLVAIN: Or GOATS...
MAX: And you gonna EAT it with BREAD...
SYLVAIN: Which comes from WHEAT...

They both made each other ridiculous, and in turn, made us ridiculous with laughing. And, whereas Sylvain's accent is proper and Parisian, Max has somehow been influenced with some John Wayne-- speaking all of his "i's" as a Southern "a." Like, "We gonna have two thangs."

Mael was the last to arrive-- the cousin of Max and Sylvain. Sylvain had told us girls that Mael was coming to visit as a distraction from some recent heart-break, and requested that we do our best to distract him. We whispered back that we thought we could certainly manage that. Before the end of the weekend, the initially reserved Mael was making face flaps with the rest of us, and taking over as the head of our group to teach us how to cha cha and mambo. He spoke English about the same way I spoke French (read: willingly, but with lots of clutching for words in the air) and we made each other laugh as we bumbled over teasing each other.

But see now... At this point-- this is where I can't even attempt to put them into blogging form. How could I?? It would take too long to describe the stories behind Sylvain attempting the seduction of a duck with a piece of strawberry tart... Or of Max leaning out the second-story window with a towel over his head, waving a scroll and yelling, "You weeel FIIIND your GEEFTS!!!" (You will find your gifts!) ... It would be too difficult to describe WHY exactly I was imitating a Velociraptor on the train platform, or why it took us about 15 different determined attempts to take a picture "Abbey Road" style in Chantilly. I can't do justice to the conversation around Max's decadent dinner table about dogs versus cats, because I could never replicate everyone's different accents and hand motions, and furthermore, I can't explain just how funny it was to be taught the Mambo and the Cha Cha by Mael at 2am on the Paris streets, on the night before Bastille day.

I can't do those stories justice. But I can say: these gentlemen made our last four days in Paris the best of the entire trip. And I can certainly provide the face flap pictures. Those are too good to keep in a drawer.
MAX:

SYLVAIN:

MAEL: (Mael's is especially horrific-- keep in mind that these are handsome boys!! Face flaps just CANNOT be rivaled for uglificating)

BETSY: (Nice touch with the cross eyes, dear!)

MISS HEIDI:

And, last but not least, Myself. In fine flapping form:


Nous aimons les hommes. Et nous allons toujours!

Nous Allons Returner a Demain!!

Prounounced: nooz ah-lon reh-turn-ay ah deh-mahn
Means: We're coming home tomorrow!!

Strange but true... These five weeks are actually finished. Paris has been fantastic-- a beautiful, historical, legendary city that has been enhanced by some of the best company yet-- our Chamonix love, Betsy, and now we're staying with my French friend Sylvain, his hilarious brother Max, and elegant cousin Mael. Fantastic, hilarious men, all. :)... Also made dreamysodreamy by some of the best cuisine yet. No, I take it back: THE best cuisine yet. Which, you all understand by now, is SAYING something!!

Will post more pictures upon our return-- arguing with a slow internet connection at the moment-- but wanted to acknowledge the impending plane ride and departure from this most excellent continent. Coming home is something we've looked forward to with simultaneous excitement and reluctance... But that makes sense, right?? We have missed home, the familiarity, our friends, and especially our family... But we've had an amazing time. We have met amazing people. We've had a blast, and (miraculously) still love and enjoy each other after 35 days of non-stop proximity. We have been taken care of, and truly blessed. Expect us to come home happy and full of stories to tell.

And also, a teeny bit rounder. :)

See you soon!

Chortles to Herself

So, THIS:
(Arles, France)

Plus these:
(Interlaken, Switzerland)


Plus lovely cones of this (with friends Sherry and Amanda):
(Cinque Terre, Italy)

Plus some of these:
(Cork, Ireland)

And also these:
(Paris, France)

And yummies like THIS-- (was a Nutella crepe-- forgot to photograph pre-consumption):
(Paris also)


...Results in SOME SERIOUS DOUBLE CHINS!!!:

That amazing photograph provided Heidi, me, and our friend Betsy that we met in Chamonix (current hostess in Paris) endless laughter last night. (Incidentally, as I write this, we are in her apartment, listening to "The Lonely Goatherd" from Sound of Music and eating chocolate Nutella on crackers.) Oh yeah-- and that's the Eiffel Tower behind us. YAAAAAY, the Eiffel Tower!!!!

We also enjoyed making horsey faces:


And I, talent that I am, found out that I can actually make a double-chin AND a horsey mouth at the same time:


And so it was that, in one fell swoop, the girl had managed to shatter any semblance of allure or prior vanity that she had ever attempted to maintain. "Can I do that without reservation?" she mused pensively, her brow furrowed in question. "Can I really show all those hideous pictures to the internet world, without any attractive ones to even attempt a rebuttal in favor of me being a cute girl?" She thought long and hard. "No," she decided. "I cannot."

Therefore, a cute pic of Heid-Beid and I in Ireland to prove to you that we are not, in fact, 800 pounds:

********
Funny story: Today, Heidi and I were enjoying ourselves at Montmartre's famous artists' square, (Translation: probably the most touristy part of all Paris, where poor shmucks like us get completely enamored with artists' romantic paintings of Paris, and completely lose financial restraint in frenetic rosy-eyed art-purchase-gobbling) ...and Heidi was considering one painting in particular next to a tall, tan fellow. She teased him, "You're not going to steal my painting are you?" He laughed and said, "Oh no, you go right ahead!" Narrowed my eyes: looked at him. I 'ave seen zees one before...

"Heidi... isn't that David Hasselhoff?"
She looked at him. Whispered. "No. I don't think so. Just a look-alike."
"But... he's tall, and tan... And he's about the right age... Isn't it?? I think it might be David Hasselhoff!!"
"No. Maybe? No. I think it's just someone who looks like him."

Later, Heidi saw the same tall, tan, strapping fellow being mobbed in the larger square. He was laughing and saying, "Half way across the world!!" I didn't see the mob, but I imagine him flexing for the crowd. Ha ha, yeaaaah, it's MEEEE, David Hasselhooofffff!!!

It was totally him. We totally perused for art next to David Hasselhoff. And. We didn't get a picture or an autograph. Because. We are like cool Parisians who let celebrities live their lives. Not silly girls who don't realize they're standing next TO THE BAYWATCH KING.
********

Alright, a few more pics to finish this blog off, just so you can see firsthand the gorgeous scenery we found in Ireland:



And here, our Irish chickies: Lorna (birthday girl) on the middle-left, and Laragh on the middle-right. We love them.


We're having an awesome time in Paris. Doing a whirlwind tour of the major sites tomorrow. Loving our hostess Betsy-- so fun to get to reunite with her again, after Chamonix!! We're in the final countdown now... Four more days!!