a week's worth of prime Parisian-watching

People watching is simply the best. I may not be a world traveler, but I'm thinking you don't have to go to many cities around the globe to decide that Paris is a perfect spot for the sport. The cafes are set up for exactly this, with all chairs facing out toward the sidewalks, and a leisurely attitude toward how long one can lay claim to a table. We spent time in both touristy spots and more residential neighborhoods, so we had a veritable potpourri of people to watch all week.

Now, I'll be honest, there are a few pictures among the masses that I opted not to include in this bloggy roundup. In the moment, they were some hilarious photos (like the one gentleman who was sunbathing on his stomach on the bank of the Seine in literally nothing more than a one-inch string in between his cheeks), and I even had some killer snark to accompany them (like the couple who had the largest Ralph Lauren clothing logos ever known to man, which coincidentally matched their apparent egos). But, I had second thoughts as I edited the photos, and I guess they'll have to live in the cloud unseen forever.

Instead, I offer you a sampling of some of our views of Parisians and tourists alike going about their days in the most beautiful city in the world.

Ping-pong tables in the middle of parks, encouraging adults to play just as hard as children, and watching three people play a game in which they rotate around the table at each hit was pure joy.

Just an average beautiful day for a carousel ride in the heart of Paris.

This is a life in which people spend weekday evenings dining and drinking along the Seine. NBD. 

We got used to the cacophony of motor scooters, but in this moment, I realized it was more than the usual, and I turned to see a line of rowdy skateboarders holding on to each other in any way possible to stay together behind the scooter in the front. 

It took a little Googling to learn what VIGIPIRATE meant, and then it became clear why there were military police everywhere we turned. Not disconcerting in the least.

Okay, in my defense, it had been a super long day, and we were ridiculously far from where we needed to be, and Hubby was fighting an oncoming migraine, and it was in the 90s, so I caved and we procured the services of one of those human bike taxi services that always make me feel awful for the (typically immigrant) workers and hyper-aware of my own large size. It was a bit of a wild ride that began with this driver until her motor ran out of juice and ended with another driver getting us where we were going. 

Not sure you can make out what this guy was playing on his phone during our subway ride... oh yeah, it was Subway Surfers. How meta.

Right around the corner from our apartment was the treasure known as Place des Vosges. I wanted to sidle up to any one of these groups sitting around chatting and just make friends because their lives are obviously incredible that they get to be here on a random weekday evening in May. 

Amusing is watching person after person take the same exact picture at one tourist site after another, such as the infamous Touching-the-Tip-of-the-Louvre-Pyramid photo.

Yeah, yeah, I know this isn't exactly people-watching, but Parisian bird watching was right up there in fun activities for me. And yes, I did actually look up why the crows sounded so different in France. Duh, lady, because they're not the *American* crows you're used to, but instead are Carrion Crows.

A Friday night at midnight is the perfect time to pull up some sidewalk and just hang out with your crew in Paris.

While on an hour-long cruise up and down the Seine, it was great fun to watch the people watching us, like this woman on her balcony waving and even throwing a kiss toward our boat.

Not always did the people see us watching, and that made this picture one of my favorites.

I seriously could not stop taking pictures of the casual pique-nique festivities we witnessed each and every day along the river.

Some pedestrians were more excited than others at the sight of our boat. 

I warned you. I. Could. Not. Stop.

This was the first time, but wouldn't be the last, that we saw a wedding couple accompanied by a photographer. I was so caught up in the moment of watching this gorgeous pair of newlyweds as they gazed upon the lit up Tour Eiffel that I offered my congratulations, not knowing if they even spoke English. It was a truly beautiful moment.

A few days later on our walking tour of the Notre Dame area, our guide burst the bubble, informing us that most of the wedding couples we saw around town were on professional photo shoots, as was the couple just out of this frame... except, we had the luck of seeing the real deal taking place as this man and woman were offering their vows just outside of Notre Dame Cathedral on a gorgeous Sunday morning. 

A Roman amphitheater built in the first century, Arènes de Lutèce was saved by preservationists led by none other than the brilliant Victor Hugo and is now a wonderful public space where kids play soccer, and...

... old men play hardcore bocce. Can you see what that guy bending down is doing? Oh yeah, he's measuring. Hard. Core.

An enclosed soccer field and an open park space along the river, filled with happy people of Paris.

A class that couldn't be older than kindergarteners or first-graders on a field trip-- a regular site in most any city. But can you imagine taking that class on a trip to Claude Monet's house and gardens? Good lord.

I was fascinated by these school groups, each child carrying some sort of clipboard or field work paper regardless of age. I took my three-year-olds to see Monet's paintings in a Washington, DC, museum. These kids are in Monet's actual studio. GAH!

I really wish I knew French so that I could have understood what these older students were asking and learning on their tour of Monet's gardens. What an incredible opportunity for all involved.

What better people-watching than a blue-haired (and blue-eyebrowed!) art student sketching Monet's pond in Giverny?

I couldn't believe how at home I immediately felt in Paris, even though I know little to no French and likely stood out like a sore, very American, thumb. The people we encountered were nothing but friendly and kind, helpful and courteous, and all in a time when our country is being led by a ridiculous moron who seems out to antagonize every other country in the world. Way, way back in my line of ancestors, someone ventured from France to Canada before their descendants moved on to New England. It may be just a little bit, but there is French blood in my veins, and that tiny part of me felt at home amongst the Parisians.