…it started as a sniffle.
…then it moved onto a small fever.
…then it became bronchitis.
…then I continued to finish up our 50+km ride through Costa Brava even though I should have called it quits.
By the time we arrived to our cute apartment in Paris, my body was screaming for me to stop the pace we were going at and take a moment. And by screaming, I was confined to the bed for 48 hours. There were so many things to do in Paris and I was stuck at home.
Have you ever coughed so hard you vomited? Yeah. We were at that point. I couldn’t eat, I slept all day, and I watched more Fashion TV than you could possibly imagine.
With a gazillion medicines coursing through my body from Shaun’s language barrier experience at our local pharmacy, all I could do was wait to feel better.
Do you know how horrible it feels to be in one of your dream locations and you can only manage to look out the window of your apartment? Time was ticking. We had 3 days scheduled in Paris and I had slept away two.
And then I took action.
Kids, don’t try this at home.
Armed with cough meds, throat lozenges, and sheer will a peeled myself off of the pull out bed and into the sunlight of Paris.
Was I feeling great? Oh hell no. I had a pounding migraine that made me stop and wince in pain more than my fair share of times.
Did I regret it? No.
We meandered through Montmartre.
While I wanted to go on the Amelie tour, we didn’t have time (nor the energy) to get to do it.
Montmartre is full of life. With accordion music floating in the air, the whole place was just magical. Sure I could hear more English than French due to the sheer number of tourists, but it doesn’t negate the fact that people love this location for a reason.
We made our rounds to the Lourve in which we did a quick whirlwind tour.
The Mona Lisa is ridiculously small and sadly… don’t kill me… overrated.
We fell in love with the Egyptian wing.
Shaun was living his Dan Brown obsession.
We ended on the Eiffel Tower.
And yes, it was still impressive.
The set up of the mall gave it more grandeur.
The details of the structure were just as amazing as I thought it would be.
And even though I was in pain, I soaked it all in.
If I loved it this much when I felt like death was knocking on my door, I can only imagine what it would be like it I was of sound mind and body!
All I know is that Paris is already calling us back to grace her streets. How can you ignore that call?
Have you been to Paris? What did you think?