Milly the Lemonhead Strikes Again

This is Nicole, fyi. To explain the title of the post...Avery got her nickname Milly the Lemonhead because, like the crazy dog Milly at Uncle Max's, Avery eats anything and everything in her sight. Also, she eats lemons like candy. No sugar added. So, if you read this post, you will see why we repeated this phrase at least 10 times today. This morning, we woke up and got ready for church. We stopped at our Patisserie and got a bite to eat for breakfast on our way to the metro. The ward here in Paris is extremely diverse. They have translators for English and Chinese and two separate rooms to participate in sacrament meeting. The first speaker was a convert from Africa and her talk/testimony was so powerful. But then, I am hoping that the translator got lost in translation, because one moment she was talking about a dream she had about demons and the next day she was on the metro and started having pain and was sweating and she didn’t know what was wrong with her. Then it was translated, “I had a baby that day. I put it in the baby carriage thing” and that was the end of the story….what? It was so confusing. And it went about 40 minutes overtime. But other than that she shared so many insightful and sincere feelings about the gospel and it was truly touching. Also a homeless man at church looked at me and said “you’re from California aren’t you. You from Laguna Beach?” Which was pretty crazy. Intuition I suppose.

After church, we waltzed over to the metro to head up to Montmarte. We walked up to the Sacre Cour. The church was in the middle of a service so we walked through and listened to the hymns. Then we walked through the artist district and I got the coconut gelato that I LOVE-despite hesitation…it was just as good as I remembered. So shout out to Erica-it is still the best gelato I’ve ever had…but we still have Italy to hit up so I’m sure that will change in the next 2 weeks. We continued to walk and really wanted to get delicious crepes (we have a problem). Everyone stopped to get them at this little place that was really giving me the bad vibes. I could just tell by the font they used on their menu and their color scheme that this was not going to be a good decision. I started off saying I didn’t want to eat here and felt like we should keep walking, but then I felt too snobby and was blinded by the “chicken” option on the menu. I have eaten too much ham here and really wanted some chicken. Finally, I caved. Riley and I both ordered the chicken, cheese, and tomato crepe, despite the high prices. Hey, we’re going to treat ourselves. The second I placed my order, I had a terrible vision of them not using the fresh tomatoes on the counter, but instead some gross ketchup or something. Fears confirmed. After caking the crepe in shredded figments that did not look like chicken at all---SHLAP--- They plopped a runny red substance that looked like a cheap wannabe salsa on it. It was honestly disgusting. We felt bad enough spending the money on so many crepes but really wanted to splurge today! We were on a street swarming with creperies and we honestly chose the armpit of all armpits. Call us dramatic, but we were pretty bitter. Then, to make Kendall and Riley feel better, we went to a patisserie to get some giant macarons (clearly the only way we function here is with good food). How could one go wrong with a macaron in Paris? Even the macarons at McCafe were delicious (yes, we went there). But NO. These giant merengue and cream beauties tasted like dirt. This was our only bad food day in Paris. In fact, I think this was our only bad food day the whole trip. And at this stage of our dessert/crepe addiction, it was dangerous. We were pretty upset and even decided to rename this part of town, which I usually really like, (sorry for our immaturity) MontFart. Well, we needed to redeem our palettes. We fervently marched down to the metro stop by Moulin Rouge. We took the metro to the Bastille, where they supposedly sold crepes with Speculoos. But, to our delight, instead of a crepe stand, there was a giant outdoor market. It was swarming with food, fruit, hand woven sandals, Peruvian sweaters, Indian shawls, you name it. We loved walking around and watching the Parisians carry their bouquets of flowers and their baguettes. We bought a baguette to split and, after soaking up the vibes (we’ve been into vibes these days), head on our merry way.

After the market, we took the metro to Riley’s stomping grounds. She showed us the apartment she used to live in and then we walked to the park down the street. It was supposed to be thunder storming all week, but since we prayed for good weather again that day, it got so sunny, we thought there was a hole in the ozone small enough to set this park to flames. It was a magical park and everyone was out on this lovely Sunday afternoon. After watching the kids on the carousel, Avery and Riley got some cotton candy, and we found the longest grass to bask in. Apparently, it was off limits because we had to step over a small fence to get to it, but it was worth the risk. We got a solid 8 minutes in before the park rangers told us to move. We found a new spot in the short grass that was PRIME for people watching. We watched a group of rambunctious preteen pipsqueaks and pests make mischief with their water fights. We watched the world’s best looking couple have the cutest/most picturesque picnic that we have ever seen. And finally, we saw a middle aged woman climb a tree in rollerblades. And that’s real.

We then had a great time getting lost and cracking ourselves up with silly jokes. Then we decided to go on the metro back to MontFart to let it redeem itself to get some dinner (apparently there was a good restaurant on the other side of the area). On the way, a creepy man with a hoop earing tried to impress us by flexing his pectorals. Yikes. Our dinner was AMAZING! What a relief. Kendall got a leg of lamb, as per usual, and the rest of us got a GIANT bowl of salad with avocado, chicken, delicious French cheese, tomatoes, and thinly sliced garlic potatoes. It was sublime. Then we went to the Arc de Triumph at sunset and walked down Champs Elysees all lit up at night in the rain. The girls got macarons at Laderre (I couldn’t. I actually thought my stomach was going to burst) and then we headed back to the hotel. We all felt miserable! We have eaten nothing but garbage, and there is no way we can stop these habits in Europe, it is just too hard.  So, we decided our only option is to try and exercise. We put on our workout clothes and had a dance party/ab workout/zumba fiesta in the hotel room and had the best time. All in all, a hilarious day that was filled with wandering, laughing, and eating, eating, eating. Hopefully you guys will recognize us when we get off the plane! It’s bad.