the plane rides weren't that long...i watched sex and the city and some terrible cameron diaz movie....i couldn't sleep at all. The swiss airport was totally cute and clean, no probs getting through. Air france took us into charles de gaulle...at this point i'd been up for so many hours, and so much time in the air...my feet were swelling up which was weird, and my tummy ached super bad...luckily jill planned our train trip into the city, which was much easier than expected. Took the metro to a few different trains, and ended up in this cute little square in montmartre that has a carousel and tons of tourists lollygagging. Walked through this windy back alley (Rue des Abesses) and up four flights of stairs to end up exactly in front of Monsieur Colignon's vegetable stand. Our apartment is directly across the tiny street from this place!!! We laid down our bags after the tour from our landlord's daughter. The apartment is adorable! kinda 80s but perfect for us. I sleep in a pull out box bed. I have adam and jill the big bed. After laying down our stuff, we walked a block down to a veggie restaurant that adam found on a blog or something. Turns out most places are closed from 2-5, but with our innocence, and drowsy ways, a super kind english turned french lady served us and charmed us, and answered all of our questions (that we could come up with in that state) about the immediate area. We then waked around the shops in the area, bought some giant macarons, and baguettes. Jill and i popped into a cute fromagerie, and took too long to order, so the lady bitched about us in french, and told us to hurry up, etc...thinking we couldn;t understand, which I did. Oddly enough, my six years didnt really do much for me in terms of conversation, and general terms of exchange. I can read and comprehend, but my vocab sucks. Anyway, we ordered some chevre, and decided to go back there often just to piss her off. We came home, passed out for 3 or four hours, then took the metro down to a jazz festival to see Tortoise. This was AMAZING. big concert hall thing brimming with gorgeous parisian men. They are not all short suprisingly, and also suprisingly fucking HOT! We placed ourselves right in front of the stage, and the show was fantastic...so many songs from the late nineties that I had forgotten I loved, John whatever is a crazy performer, hits the drums SO HARD, and actually performs his drumming...really somethin to see live, and so close....they came back for 3 or 4 encores....played for over 2 hours, and no opening act...total dream. We stopped for a cig and watched the cool kids depart. A couple different parisians asked us for a light and a cig, and didn't avoid us like tourists, which was nice. THis is when I made the distinction that young parisians are much nicer than older ones. This was further supported on the way home when we stopped into a pizzaria, and the waiter (an older dude) got SUPER pissed at me when I ordered one margarita pizza to split between us three. When we acted like we'd just leave, then ge begrudginly agreed to serve us one. The food and wine was malicious! I got bummed on the double attitude...and decided to chat up the owener on the way out (rose courage) and after explaining in french that we were sleepy from traveling and sorry for ordering one, he said I'd look like a rose when I woke up from sleeping, and was all nice to me in front of monsieur pissy. we came home and passed out.