Vacation, part 2

We were in London for ten days. It seemed a shame not to dash over to Paris for at least a day. The last time I traveled from London to Paris we went by ferry. This time I booked seats on the Eurostar.

Except for the sardine can that was the tube from Victoria to St. Pancras, the trip was incredibly easy.

Departure from St. Pancras, London.

A little over two hours later, Paris!

View from one end of the Tuileries looking toward the Obelisk.

Little Brewer #1 wanted to visit the Eiffel Tower. This was a total act of maternal love on my part because Brewgal does not like heights.


Of course, the lines were insane.
This is the queue to get tickets to go through security so you can get in the queue for the elevator to go up.

The view was worth it, however. I had never been up the Tower at night and even though I couldn't make it all the way to the edge, the panorama was stunning.

Every so often (once an hour?) the flashbulbs on the outside of the Tower go off in display.

Sparkly!

We stayed at the Park Hyatt Vendome (Hello, Hyatt? Love the Next Big Thing Promotion!) so I ordered room service breakfast.

I SO want to live in this hotel.

A quick dash to Notre Dame,

at which point LB1 started to wear out.

It's the "Do we HAVE to?" look.

Finally, Gare du Nord back to London.

Island girl

We took the little brewers on their first camping adventure last weekend to one of my favorite spots in the world, Assateague Island. Sun! Sand! Tents!

Wild ponies!

Bugs! Fiberglass sharks!


In the past, it was easy to get a campsite. Brewguy and I would pack ourselves up and head out across the Bay Bridge Friday night, arriving at the island around 3am. Once there we'd sleep in the car until daybreak, hanging on the beach until the campsite lottery at 11am.

Now you can reserve campsites online in advance. We went online in February for July dates. There were no campsites available for more than two nights in a row. This was in February. Fortunately, once we arrived, we found single night spots. Unfortunately, that meant we had to move the campsite every night. Let me tell you, unpacking and packing gets really old fast.

Brewguy's great idea was to simply pick up the tents and walk them to the next campsite. I was somewhat more skeptical, mostly because carrying a large, fully constructed tent across the campground was way too close to the Beverly Hillbillies for my taste. In addition, like most great ideas, this one had a fatal flaw: wind. A fully contructed tent acts as a sail.

Observe:

We gave up on the tent moving and setting for moving the screen house. Campers are a laid-back lot. Upon observing us hauling the screen house, one remarked "moving day?" Gotta love these folks. I did attempt to knit but after constant interruptions for "Mommy, look over there!" and "Mommy, I'm hungry," and "Ew, horse poop!" I surrendered and started reading 1776 instead.

Things learned at the beach:

• Brewgal needs to reapply her SPF-50 during the day or she will burn in uncomfortable places.


• Food cooked on the campstove tastes much better than at home.


• Live mole crabs are cute but dead, disembowled ones are not.


• Mosquitos piss me off. I mean, really. What is the purpose of mosquitos?


• Our tent is indeed waterproof, thank goodness.


• Seagulls (those flying rat bastards) can do an amazing impression of a small child yelling "HEY!"