Encounters at a Fancy French Boutique

The other day, I decided to go shopping in Paris, ignorantly thinking that fancy French boutiques welcome everyone. How wrong I as. THis place was so fancy that its music had only one lyric being sung over an dover and the t-shits were delicately hung up individually. People stood examining the clothes, not even shopping, just staring. This was not clothing, but art. IT was the kind of place where if you have to ask the price of something, you shouldn’t be shopping there. I was unworthy and they made sure to let me know.

To Do List 6/15

To Do List 6/14

The Money Belt

Are you deathly afraid of pick-pockets? Are you afraid to travel for fear that someone will steal your money? Well, it’s time to put your worried mind at ease now that you can get a money belt! Money belts hold your money, passport and other valuables that you desire to keep hidden from those pesky pick-pockets. They’re convenient, portable, and can be used to fit all your fashion needs! Wear the money belt any way you desire!


Under the shirt: To hide it from pick-pockets!

Over the shirt: So pick-pockets won’t want to come near you!

And much much more! Make it your own with money belt!

Breakfast 6/13

Ate breakfast at the hotel. So cute and French!

The term for breakfast in French is Petit Dejeuner, meaning “little lunch.” (Notice the Nutella. Oh my yum.)

First breakfast in Paris!

To Do List 6/13

Trip to Europe

These next to weeks, my brother, my dad and I will be traveling through Europe. Here’s how our travels will go:

Here’s a map my trip through Europe! 

Transition Day

Yesterday was a day of transitions. At 5:00 pm, our plane from Seattle took off towards Amsterdam. After a ten-hour flight (in which I was seated right in from of two screaming children), we arrived in Amsterdam. The flight attendants there are SO NICE. Everyone is unbelievably friendly, and directed us American nOObs to the right place at least five times. We miscalculated the amount of time it would take to get through customs, estimating about an hour or so. So naturally it took like forty seconds. We took a train from the airport to Amsterdam Central, where we waited for three hours in a cute little cafe for our 5:00 pm train to Paris to arrive. While waiting, my dad, brother and I watched Micheal Palin’s Hemingway Adventure, which I highly recommend.

Our train finally arrived, and it was absolutely adorable. I saw myself in the reflection of the window, though, and realized by this time I looked like a sleep-deprived vagrant. I was asleep the second I hit my chair, which was actually quite comfortable, and managed to thoroughly creep out the man across from me with my snoring. The train was so bomb. I guess tipping isn’t a very common thing in some places over here, because when we tipped the guy in the Dining Car, he frantically pushed a huge pile of cookies towards us… maybe we should have told him we weren’t expecting anything back for our tip, but… we took the cookies for his sake. It was a real sacrifice.