Bonjour, Merci

Gone are the radiant mediterranean sunsets. Welcome, grey, rainy skies. Paris. After hopping into a taxi at Charles de Gaul Airport, I sat wondering, when does Paris end. How large is this city? Large rectangular boxes run the length of the streets, adorned with ornamental design which is both quaint and overpowering all at once. Chimney stacks reach humbly for the depressed sky.

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Still trying to kick this stomach bug. Not sure what the heck is going on. Might have been a fated dinner. Might have been the water in Barcelona. Might have been, might have been. Powering on. Going to kick some ass. Mosied around the city about yesterday. Found the Eiffel Tower just where they said it would be on the map. Found alot of other cool, abnormally large buildings with crazy details in gold. Such a deep sense of history over here. Brings back memories of exploring civil war battle fields with the pops. Cool stuff.

Visited the famous French boutique Colett. Crazy, minimalist design, very sparse. Karl Lagerfeld was there, in all his obscure glory, complete with assistant and personal fit model. Checking it out. After that, attempted to get something in my stomach, definitely fared better this time, but still not quite right. Figured I'd go a safe route and order a club sandwich. Leave it to the French to put egss on there.

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More shopping today. Because Paris is so big, everything that we have on our hit list is so spread out, making for a very long day. Hopefully my box of Maalox holds up.