Our inaugural round of Parisian Theatre Bingo

Parisians have made a sport out of sitting in cafes and watching people. In fact, many cafes and brasseries along busy streets set up their chairs and tables on the porticoes to be like stadium seating. Elizabeth dubbed it “Parisian Theatre.”

Parisians (and maybe some tourists too) enjoying the drama of passing pedestrians and the anarchy of the city's traffic. 

Plenty of seats available in the front row here. 

On a hot Sunday afternoon, we decided that when in Paris, we should act Parisian and found a comfy table outside Café le Quartier General. 

And from there we developed our game of Parisian Theatre Bingo (patent pending).

Le bingo!!!! We won. Here’s some – but not all – the proof.

So. Many. Man purses. (This was one of at least 6.43 million we saw that day.)

Rolls Royce. 

Hen party on the move.

Also, there was a random parade of mostly roller bladers and some bikers. I got video of that.

We also spotted quite a few pairs in matching outfits (a faux pas in the Alessi-Price household). That included the young couple in the same Levis t-shirts and jeans and the mother and daughter wearing the same sandals and shorts. But this duo were, by far, the most coordinated. (Elizabeth snapped this shot in the Musee D'Orsay.)

Though not technically from our Parisian Theatre Bingo expedition, this deserved making the blog. 

Finally, the staged wedding shoots were prominent in Paris, but it's clearly not limited to French sites. We also noticed it in Iceland. 

Walking to the Eiffel Tower.  

On the hillside beneath the Sacre Coeur. 

Another couple at the Sacre Coeur. (These shoots were happening at the same time. I actually shot them by standing in the same spot and turning 180 degrees.)

In Iceland a week earlier, beneath the largest Lutheran Church that overlooks the city of Reykjavik. 

Can anyone do something about these barnacles?

Ryan and I spent our last day in San Diego at the beach, sans cellphones. So we have no pictures to prove how much we enjoyed ourselves. You'll just have to trust us.

The Ocean Beach dog beach early in the morning.

First, our location was perfect. We got the most adorable Ocean Beach cottage through Airbnb. It was less than 100 yards from the ocean (the sand started about 10 feet from our front door).

The sunset view from our porch.

Ryan blogging on our porch in the morning.

Second, we just really love the beach, though perhaps not for the reasons you think. This pie chart shows approximately how we spend our time at any sandy shore:

Wednesday's people watching yielded a few gems: the woman who loudly lectured her kid for throwing a bottle into the ocean, the creepy middle-aged man who complimented a twenty-something woman on her lack of tattoos before asking for her phone number, and the two teenagers whom we watched for 30 minutes but never figured out whether they were dating or siblings (or perhaps dating step-siblings?)

The best exchange by far was between a 60-ish woman in a fuchsia swim cap and the lifeguard on duty at stand No. 3.

Fuchsia swim cap approaches life guard stand, holding a shell in her hand. "These barnacle shells are really sharp," she says. "They're dangerous."

Lifeguard No. 3: "Yep." She resumes scanning horizon.

Fuchsia swim cap: "Well, can't you all pick them up?"

Lifeguard No. 3 now peers down at fuchsia swim cap. "All of them? I'm pretty sure that's impossible."

Fuchsia swim cap seems shocked by this answer.  She huffs, "I guess I can just throw this one under your stand so no one gets cut on it."

Lifeguard No. 3: "Sounds good."

Ryan has spent the last two days randomly asking if someone can do something about the barnacles. (Did I mention that we're now in the desert?)