Eruope 2012

Heathrow.  Calling Roger!

French ATC strike means flying all the way around the country's airspace.  SOMEONE GET THEM SOME NON-DAIRY CREAMER ALREADY!

At last - Tapas!

Americanos and a little baguette for Adam.  I had a supply of Zing bars.

A balcony for every window.

Our first Barcelonian gelato.  Many more to come.

The entrance to the big Cathedral.

Deciples.  Making sure you're dressed appropriately.

Tapas, round 2.  This place was all over the GF.

Well, actually...

Pinxos, and wine.  Duh.

Seafood at the market.  Live seafood.

And eggs.

And smoothies made of random fruit juices.

Feeling hot, hot, hot?

How about some 'shrooms?

Or pork, perhaps?

Not sure this picture captures this, but every seafood seller was a woman - all done up in makeup and perfect hair.

Market - only slightly busier than Pike Place.

Barcelona School of Medicine.

Drinks, crisps, and travel journalling at Ohla's bar.  The drinks were phenomenal.  The journalling kind of fell off after a few days.

Cathedral at night.

Roman ruins, and a man on a horse.

Paella!  And some little sausages.  And wine. 

We were a little hungry...

Front bar of the paella place.

Hotel courtyard at night.  

You might say the sink is "gala."  But I'm pretty sure it's "Gaia" with a capitol I.

Somewhere near the train station, in Barcelonetta - I think.

Working our way through more tapas, and more wine.  Surprise, surprise.

Barmut... mut mut mut mut.

One more round of gelato...

...Death gelato.

Leaving Barcelona on an overnight train to Paris!

Just a girl and her wine glasses...  and a lonely dining car.

Made it to Paris, albeit a few pounds lighter for Adam.  Next stop, Fontainbleu!

Calling card fail.  Or operator error?

Still waiting...

Dave was totally stoked about this salsa.  And those beers. 

Sharon chop chop chopping veggies for salad.

Tea time.  Then wine time.  Camping at its finest.

Hooray, Adam is eating again!

Pizza night with the Silly English K-nig-its.

Noble Fir shot.  Adam & Roger contemplating.... something.

Looks like Roger was successful.  And now monologuing.

Campervan Tea Time.

Setting up the awning to stay dry for dinner.

And then Ben got into the Climb On...

Surprisingly, there is no evidence of Peppa Pig in these photos.

Chicken Curry, ala Mike.  And Kir!

Will is a man of many talents, including balancing crash mats on his head.

Steak, veggies, Tilda Rice - the night Adam & Jen had to cook.

The aftermath of a nasty fall.  Getting evaluated by the resident PA.

Adam hanging on by a fingertip.  Will getting ready to direct him to the mat.

Where did Ben's feet go??

Grubbiest boy in all of France.

The boys huddling as the rain started pouring down.

"Please pass the raclette after you shower."  It took us a while to figure out what the hell the sign was talking about, especially when Mike said "I once ate 42 raclettes."

Lunch making duty, to get out of tent tear down duty.

Like I said, a man of many talents - including Connect Four.

Pete giving will a proper Connect Four whooping.

Adam, me, Will.

French fruit.

Who's that sexy man directing traffic?

Peppa Pig & a nap.

Bar, crag.  Doesn't suck.

If you're going to jump in muddy puddles, you must wear your boots.

Little town of Surgy.


The boys, headed to the crag.  This is one of my favorite pictures.

Adam sends!

And then becomes the Belay Bitch.

Sharon's off the ground, hooray!

Garlic Shrimp.

Beautiful and sunny, and then the strom rolls in - it was hailing by the time we started walking down.

Post storm gift.

Gear drying out...

The "Canadians" lost 2-1 in the French Cribbage Series.

Adam leading, Roger belaying and stretching out the Benelli hat.

Roger's up there somewhere.

Adam taking a rest in 3/4 of the way up.

Looking for a dinner spot in Clemancy.

And we found the least child-friendly place.  But it worked out well, and the food was delicious.

Ben chugging a cherry soda.

Adam's dinner.

My dinner.  Nom nom nom.

Roger, cheese, cheesey Roger.

Last night together and all they did was sleep.

Waiting at the train station to head back into Paris.

Where they sell a lot of accordions...

First round.  Seafood salad & wine in Montparnasse.


And cider!

And rose!

The beginning of the Gluten Defense.  Apparently the pot du chocolat was not ok, but the phyllo wrapped, deep fried banana was.

Adam had no problems.  Clearly.

Montparnasse Cemetary.  Jean Paul Sartre & Simone de Beauvoir.

Man Ray - harder to find, less public love. :(

Back to our feet-only street for lunch in Montparnasse.  Adam being Jean Paul thoughtful.

Or maybe he was just contemplating duck confit & avacado salad.

Two Maggots - a Hemmingway favorite.

Arc de Triomphe - turns out you were suppose to take the underground passage, and not cross the 8-lane roundabout to get here.

GF Crepe!  Filled with coffee and deliciousness.  And cidre.

Me, Adam, Eiffel Tower.  This is about as romantic as it gets.

Seine.  Riverboats.  Paris.  Win.

Much to Adam's relief, I did not bring a lock with our initials to put on the bridge.

Us, Louvre, tourists.

You'd need a week just to get through this whole museum.

And then we got thrown out of the Ritz...

This place suits us better anyway.

Excellent Whiskey Sour & Killer Manhatten.

Hemmingway knew his stuff.

French version of a diner.

French diner food.

Back to Harry's for jazz & cocktails.

While I held our place in line for the Catacombs, Adam went in search of coffee.  But found a crossaint and a beignet.

Into the depths.  Elaborate sand castles.

This is how you know you're above the water line.

Bone piles.

More skulls and femurs.

Cemetary of the Innocents.

Military Museum.

Large cannons.


The tomb of Napoleon, or as some might call him, the Angry Inch.

Really ornate sand castles - exact models of all the cities Napoleon planned to invade.

Accurate coast line and everything.

Beer break.

Notre Dame.

And last, but not least, the Eiffel Tower.  Paris is complete.

Our escape from CDG.

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