The Visitors, Pt. I

(Please check out the new pictures I’ve posted on the right side of the page)

Here's Dad after only three hours in Paris.
I guess some things never change...

I’ve been freezing my butt off a lot lately, but I don’t think I’ve ever been as cold in my entire life as I was last Sunday. I waited outside at a metro stop all morning in the sub-freezing temperature for my parents and Claire to arrive after they flew in last week to visit for Thanksgiving (boo-hoo, I know, but I’m a FLORIDIAN and my weird Euro-shoes don’t handle the cold very well…). When I finally heard from them around lunchtime, I found out that they, too, had frozen their own butts off after walking across practically the entire left bank looking for their hotel because my Dad didn’t print out the obsessively detailed directions I sent him before they all left the States.
Anyway, once everyone was done crabbing at each other, we regrouped and went up to Montmartre hill to see the Sacre-Coeur and check out the view of Paris, fueled by frequent stops for Chocolat Chaud (hot chocolate) for Mom and Claire, of course. Claire and I got sketches of ourselves in the artists’ district on the way down the hill, then we all met up for dinner later that night. I had a crazy Entrepreneurship class last week and a ton of schoolwork to do, so I unfortunately didn’t get to hang out with the family very much, but I got to hear the stories of their antics at dinner every night, which they’re much better at describing than I am. From what I got out of it, though, my Dad and turnstiles don’t get along very well, and my Mom and Claire will from now on refer to him as "Barney Fife" whenever we all travel together…
That said, the next day I ditched school and we all took the Eurostar train through the Chunnel to London, after waiting for a strike to end which forced us to sit on the tracks in the Parisian railyards for about 3 hours before we even began moving. By the time we got there, we had to move quickly because we were coming back to Paris the same evening, so we took a hop-on, hop-off bus tour of the city and got a glimpse of some of the big tourist attractions like the Tower Bridge, the Tower of London, Picadilly Circus, Big Ben and Parliament, St. Paul’s Cathedral and Buckingham Palace. True to form for Mom and Claire, we spent more time in Harrod’s (a gigantic department store) than anywhere else in the city, but we had a very good time, despite the rushed day. Claire and I chowed on Fish and Chips for lunch while Mom and Dad had Bangers and Mash – I don’t care what anyone says – British food is awesome if you put enough salt on it. Then, I taught Claire how to destroy Belgian beers on the trip back to Paris that night. Hey, she’s gotta learn sometime!!!
The next morning while I was in class, my Dad got pickpocketed on the metro, so the family spent most of the rest of that day cleaning up the mess with the police. My Dad broke his leg a while back, so he’s still in a cast, making him an easy target (all Barney Fife references aside). I wasn’t there, but I’m confident that he beat the living crap out of whoever touched him, but I guess they somehow got away…
For my parents’ last night in Paris, we all had a great dinner at a place called Tribeca with Sarah and my buddy Josh (see Pt. II), then hiked over to the Eiffel Tower to get some pictures. The next morning, as I miraculously got my parents to the airport on time, it began snowing heavily; they ended up sitting on the runway for 5 hours while the plane was de-iced and/or stuck in line, so they sat on the plane for a total of about 15 hours for the ride home. All in all, their trip home took something like 30 hours door-to-door, so as I was sad to see them go, I’m pretty happy I missed that particular family excursion across the Atlantic.