Breakfast in Paris

I'm not sure why MIHH thinks it's funny to take photos of me while I eat, but apparently it's hilarious. Maybe because I'm so small? Still, you don't see people taking photos of the Pygmies while they eat, do you? No, you do not. But I digress. MIHH took the pictures and I might at well show you. BTW, some Japanese tourists staying at our hotel thought I was dashing and amusing and asked if they could take my photos too. Of course I agreed. Who am I to turn away my adoring public? I wonder if I'm on some random Japanese blog?

One thing the French do well is bread. And we ate a lot of it. Mostly because that's what hotels serve you at breakfast. Look at those croissants. Golden brown and flakey. Delicious.


I sat down on to enjoy one.


And look, they have a French Laughing Cow! Tasty.


Noooooo! It's mine! You can't have it. I can completely eat it. Chocolate croissant goodness.


I told you I could eat it. Now, could someone roll me out of here?

Sheesh that was embarrassing. You'd think MIHH and Mr. HH would give me the respect I deserve as a scholar, teacher and archeologist, but no. No they do not. It's a good thing I like them.

Next time, we'll have a look at my adventures at La Tour Eiffel and Les Invilades. You do not want to miss that. And I promise, no more food pictures.

Ah, Paris!

If you're a true fan of mine, you know that I visited Paris many times when I was a child, traveling with my father (and mother before she died), and worked there as a Belgian Soldier during WWI under the assumed name of Henri Defense (which I admit was a terrible alias, but in my defense-no pun intended-I was only 16 and it seemed clever at the time), where I met and had a steamy affair with Mata Hari. Ah, what a woman.
When I found out MIHH, Mr. HH (who I think needs to lobby for a better nickname), Indy and O'Pa (MIHH's dad) were going to Paris, I was ready to go and troll all my old haunts. After our emotional visit to Utah Beach, I opted out of the trip to Omaha Beach and cemetery, and hung around the hotel making lecture notes and thinking about Paris. Ah, Paris. Here are a few snapshots of our trip.
I was "accidentally" left behind when we first arrived in Paris, so I missed the Arch de Triomph. When they came back to drop off the backpack, I made sure to crawl in Indy's pocket. This is Indy, me in his pocket and O'Pa getting in the elevator. Only the 3 of us would fit (it was about 3 x 3) so MIHH and Mr. H had to take the stairs.


We walked around the streets for a while, just looking at things and MIHH found some fantastic cafe's and bistros to eat at, but was outvoted and somehow we ended up at McDonald's. What is wrong with those boys? They need some serious culture. Since I didn't get a vote and was there anyway, I figured I should get into the spirit. I mean it was no Moules Provancal and fois gras, but you know, it was food, and I was hungry.


Carefully, carefully.


Okay, I'm up for the challenge. I think. It's pretty big.


Oh, yeah. I'm going in.


A gentleman always cleans up after a meal.



Well, I was satisfied, but seriously, McDonald's? MIHH was so not happy.



Afterward we walked around the streets. It was a really cold night, but I found something I found interesting (fortunately O'Pa took the kid back to the hotel ahead of us). Ooh, la, la!


Just, you know, doing some research.


I hope you enjoyed our evening stroll. Next time I'll show you our trip to the Eiffel Tower and a visit to the military museum where I saw some old friends and enemies.

Adventures in Normandy

I apologize for not posting earlier, but it's really up to Mom in High Heels, and while she's a doll face is pretty busy with that boy and hasn't had the time to type up my dictation. I've been pretty busy too, between my teaching and tracking down priceless artifacts. I appreciate your patience. All right, enough of this sappy stuff. Let's look at a few of my photos from Normandy.



Here I am in Bayeux on a premium German motorcycle I "relieved" a German officer of. I think I look pretty snazzy on it,don't you? And, I found a few vintage bottles of Riesling in the saddle bags, which was an added bonus. Those Germans know their stuff when it comes to Riesling.


Oh, here I am at Utah Beach. A lot of brave men came up this beach. I of course was flying air support during the war. You'll notice I still have "my" motorcycle.



Now this is Point Du Hoc. Amazing story about this place. MIHH says you should go read it for yourself. She says I'm a professor, not a dictionary.


I'm sure this wasn't as interesting as it could have been, but MIHH says she's really busy (she's watching a movie-and not even one of mine) and cut all my lecture notes down to the bare bones. Kids these days. Anyway, I know this wasn't great, but come back for soon because I've got all kinds of photos to show you from my trip to Paris. Oo, la, la indeed.