Day the Eleventh

I'm sitting on my bed watching the World Cup finals. Argentina just scored and there was a loud "yeahhhhh!" from outside and then it was called offside and there was an equally loud "ohhhhh!" I guess the French still have hard feelings for Germany after that whole WWII thing.

Anyways, after a 10.5 hour sleep I found Dani at the airport today. I told her that we could go back to the hotel to drop off her stuff but then we wouldn't be returning until after 8:00 so that she didn't have the opportunity to sleep. Apparently I'm mean.
First, we took the Metro down to where everything is and walked to Musee d'Orsay. We stood in line for like an hour, that was thrilling. Then I ruined the first of many art galleries for Dani. We went through the pre-impressionist galleries first, then up to the impressionists. I was still being well behaved at this part and it was actually really cool. We stopped for some very expensive food in a cafe on the second floor. We had tried to eat at the top where the restaurant is built into the old clock face of the train station (the museum is in an old train station, everything in Europe used to be something else) but it was too busy. After some nourishment and caffeine to avoid a Dani meltdown, we went and saw the Van Gogh gallery. It was all down hill after that because next we walked through the gallery of statues of our drunk friends, and then the gallery of benches you can't sit on. After that we had to Gogh because the museum was closing. Dani didn't think that was as funny as I did.
Next, in our day of pure torture in Paris, we climbed all 660 steps of the Eiffel Tower. In the pouring rain. Pouring. Like literal buckets. Maybe not literal, but close enough. It was great though, once we reached the top the rain stopped and the clouds and fog lifted enough for the view to be incredible. Then, as we were entering the elevator to go down, the clouds parted and the sun shone through while a chorus of angels sang from above. Or something like that.
Dani is allergic to Paris. She has Golfer's vasculitis which is a heat rash that you get from your ankle to knee in heat and/or humidity (Paris has an abundance of both). She'll be ok though, I had it in Barcelona last time I went and it cleared up after a day or two. I think it's genetic though, her parents are both Golfers.
Tomorrow is Bastille Day and my last day in Paris so we don't have much planned. It'll be fun to see where the day takes us.

Things I ate (I hear this is Brittany's favourite part):
     - pain au chocolat. erryday.
     - chicken Caesar salad which was actually delicious
     - a granola bar and half a litre of yogurt for dinner. I'm not proud of this one.
Highlight of the day:
     - making Dani cry in the gallery of drunk friends. It was from laughing. I'm not a total jerk.
     - The Eiffel Tower