Escape to Deauville

I'm a little young to be learning history, but people say that some things were quite different before I was born. First, I'm told that summers actually meant sunny days - I mean lots of them; sunny days all the time! I'm also told that cool toys like the bright colored ones that I have spread all over our Paris apartment floor were made in Japan, and at some point even in Europe or the US, rather than China (yeah right). Some people even try to convince me that a trip to the beach was something that was once carefully planned for all but those who actually lived near the sea - and then most of those who did actually fished for a living, or ran seedy bars where sailors with Scottish accents drank from pewter mugs and chased women in long petticoats. I'm having a little trouble with this last one.




As Sam Cooke once said, I "don't know much about history", but if I could hit the beach on a rare sunny summer day. "What a wonderful world it would be." [NB: I'm more a Cole Porter fan than a Sam Cooke groupie].

Since well before my birth, Paris has boasted two beaches: Paris Plage and Deauville, the "21st" arrondissement of Paris. When, in August, a cool sunny Paris morning promises a warm afternoon and generous sun, something special just has to happen. Since Paris plage is something that Parisians brag about and support - but don't actually frequent, mommy and daddy threw caution and responsibility to the wind and drove me out to Deauville.




It was a great day. Mom is always late so we arrived in Deauville around lunchtime. We walked up the promenade and found a great seaside terrace where they could eat moules frites and I could chomp on an omelet. Not long after I was on the beach with my trusty bucket and shovel, the very one that I used in the Île de Ré! Yes, the bucket that's made in Italy and shovel that's made in France - yes, in my lifetime!






After an ice cream we had a quick drive through the typical Norman streets of Deauville, then pointed the car towards the 15th arrondissement of Paris and drove home. I don't know what people did on sunny days in the olden days - before I was born. But one day my children's children will read their history books and learn that cool Paris parents played hooky and drove their kids to Deauville.



You can check out some Deauville getaway pics here: dashing drive to Deauville

Birthday visits

It was no ordinary weekend. It was daddy's birthday. I couldn't just sit around beating my sippy cup against my high chair. I had to do something!

This year daddy's birthday fell on a Saturday. Something special was in order. I had to call in the heavy artillery. Fortunately, I knew what to do. I've had a birthday before; I'm no beginner.



First I had to conspire with mommy to make sure that we bought a whole bunch of really nice gifts. Then abuelita, who always cooks something special (and never stops making everyone feel special, particularly me), would cook something delicious. Finally, we needed some special guests - and I knew just the ones. Mario, my speech writer (see my first speech here) and the lovely Carolina would join us. They know how to party!!!! Cuba, Peru, Mexico and Venezuela, all in Humbligny! And with Mario, the king of positive, you know you're in for a special weekend.



They arrived Saturday morning, under gray skies. "Beautiful weather!", Mario said. "'stá Poca madre!" Mario is from Mexico. Before we knew it, corks were poppin' and cheese was smellin'. This was open door weekend at the caves of Menetou Salon, and we couldn't pass up a birthday invitation like that. We tried some of Mr. Turpin's wonderful whites (I think he's tried a little bit too much of his own whites if you ask me) and then it was off to Henri Pelle to check out the whole shibang. A stop at the potters' market on the grounds of the Château de Maupas and then it was home to fire up the grill.





After a water emergency, a visit by the mayor, a visit by the vice-mayor, a visit by the "I'm the dude in charge of the water" man, and a mild-to-major panic, it was time to throw the steaks on the grill. Fortunately, night doesn't fall until well after 1o o'clock here - and that's more or less when we finally got to eat. Daddy just managed to blow out a candle while it was still birthday.



The next day, after a walk in the forest, a demonstration of Mario's juggling talent, finding the giant mushrooms, and another BBQ, everyone called it a weekend.





Why don't you check out some snaps from the whole weekend here: Panamerican birthday