After five hours of traveling we capped off our 95 minute sprint through Mt. St. Michel with a cone of crispy Chu-Chis, deep fried twigs of dough that are then doused in a dramatic downpour of sugar. Like a funnel cake, but tough and crunchier.
We were held up by Mean Mickey at the Porte de Vanves flea market. It’s a drastic makeover, but he wears armed & insane surprisingly well.
Flower-buddy spices at the Galleries Lafayette über-market.
I assumed the golden nose on this $1400 McClown lamp was its on switch, but, sadly, the joke was on me.
France is the land of 10,000 carousels. We saw many, rode one, and photographed most of them.
Down in Nice there was a strong Italian influence and so we strolled around the city with gelatto cones twice a day. At our favorite shop, if you ordered two flavors, they didn’t just plop one down on the other, snow-man style, but created radial little blossoms of creamy coolness.
Whenever I’m in a foreign land, I like to hunt down grocery market finds by brands we have back at home of specific products which we do not. I even sacrificed precious room in my suitcase to pack in a big box of Kellogg’s Tresor cereal.
The daffy door leading to the unisex restrooms at Colette.
As you can see, France isn’t all fussy refinement. It can flash a little crass and whole lot of sass.