Zürich -> Dijon -> Paris

I was sure we were going to get an early start when Dennis left the house at 8:00 this morning to pick up our car. But those car seat that I mentioned we'd be unearthing? Well, their time in the earth took its toll.  All three car seats were furry with mold, born of the juice splashes and stray Cheerios of 2010.  Our early start fell victim to my excellent housekeeping skills.


The kids didn't mind in the least: they were caught up in the excitement of packing and were darting around the apartment, loud and underfoot, until we booted them outside, where they discovered that it was cardboard recycling day.  So they had a fine time pawing through everyone's trash and bringing it into the apartment by the armload.  "It's for your Mother's Day present!" shouted Ella, gleefully, over her shoulder, and then she tossed several unwieldy boxes into her room.


I cannot wait.


The kids were still doing well by the time the carseats had dried and it was time to start loading.  Ella, especially, was in high spirits.  She was particularly satisfied with her outfit and spent a lot of time pirouetting around the kitchen with her breakfast in her hand. I overheard her asking Alex "How do I look?" Well, Alex knows exactly how to play that game.  "Oh, Ella, you look so beautiful, just like a ballerina."  And then Ella paused, regarding her Nutella toast. "Wait, Alex? Do I have anything on my face." Without missing a beat, his response: "Nothing but a pretty smile."  Smooth, like his daddy.

Things were a little cramped in the rear seat.

We have a funny little car, a Toyota Verso, which actually seats seven, with the trunk converting into two extra fold-down seats.  Only, those seats have all of one inch of leg room.  Alex took one look at the gap and decided there was no way he'd be sitting in the trunk, but Ella was game and made a little lair for herself in amongst the suitcases, lined with her comic books and snacks.


We made it out of Zürich without giving into the strong urge to purchase and fill the car with really big, bulky, heavy things (and lots of them).  Something about being in a car for the first time in four months made me want to head to the closest Target and sweep everything off of the shelves and into my cart while cackling wildly.  But instead we got onto the Autobahn, like reasonable people, and drove straight to Dijon.


The day couldn't have been prettier: it was a sunny, stunning day, and there was scenery to match.  The autoroute was bordered mostly by farm fields, many covered with vivid yellow canola crops, and many others being grazed by herds of pure white cattle.  At one point Ella asked if we were going in circles, because we seemed to pass the same scenery over and over.

Dennis and I drove through France once before, in 2002, and I remembered the funny signs they have bordering the autoroute, drawings of the tourist attractions of any given town that might be nearby.

Driving to Paris past Strasbourg would have been slightly faster, but Strasbourg is actually quite close to Zürich, so it's likely we'll go there later this year. And Dennis had never been to Dijon. So last night we hastily scribbled down a route from Zürich to Paris via Dijon and looked up possible places for the kids to play there.  One site mentioned Parc Darcy as having a nice garden and playground and many bistros nearby, and that sounded just about perfect.


There was construction all through the center of Dijon, and both Dennis's and my phones ran out of batteries just as we were approaching the city. (They'd been running hot, nonstop since we'd left Zürich, tracking our location. Oops!) So our drive into town was more than frustrating. But we did eventually find our way to Parc Darcy, and it did turn out to be a perfectly fine place to stop, with cheap parking and a likely-looking bistro with crêpes and pizza.  The restaurant, called l'Imprimerie ("The Printer") was all books and letterpresses on the walls and tables and even in between the stairs, and so the kids, although they'd been sitting still for about four hours (for we didn't even arrive in Dijon until 2:00) were more or less happy to sit still at lunch as well, playing games of I-Spy.  And they put a mustard dressing on my salad, so that I could, well and truly, experience Dijon in its fullest during my brief visit there.


Of my three, Alex had the hardest time sitting still, and his meal got lost in the kitchen, adding to his wiggles.  He inhaled his food when it showed up, so Dennis took him and Joey to the park across the street from the restaurant while Ella and I finished up and paid, and Ella took a few minutes to walk around the restaurant, photographing everything that caught her eye.


Every time we leave Zürich, we realize anew how spoiled we are by the parks and playgrounds there.  Parc Darcy, which was called one of the best in the area, was fine for a little while, but the playground was tiny, so the kids weren't overly sad when it was time to pile back in the car. Especially since I told them they could play with their electronics for the second half of the drive.

I hadn't seen this before: a peddle merry-go-round

Entrance to Parc Darcy

Dijon's Triumphant Arch

Joey was ready to get back on the road

Joey had spent the entire first half of the trip playing with sticker books, and after about a half-hour of playing on an iPhone, he realized that's really all he wanted to be doing.  I'd bought several large sticker activity books form Costco before we left, and he's been steadily working his way through them.  He loves matching shapes, but even more he loves puppeteering the stickers on their way to their final resting spot: "I Tigger! I go here! Ha ha! Wait! No I don't! Oh, okay. I do. Whee!" My afternoon's entertainment.

Since our phones were out of batteries, we got out of Dijon and up to Paris based on foggy memories from last night's bleary-eyed research, my hastily scribbled notes, some mismarked maps at a few rest stops, and, finally, some concerted research at a map rack at a gas station.  Luckily, the notes for the last few miles of our trip, from the autoroute to our hotel, were the most detailed, so we got to our hotel without too much trouble.

Bracing himself

We're staying at a hotel close to Disney, not owned by the park but endorsed by it.  At first glance, they've cut some disappointing corners, especially in terms of cleanliness.  But it has an extraordinary pool with a playground and water slides, and a soft play area that doesn't smell too overwhelmingly of urine. And the kids have a separate room with bunk beds, which were the cause of five minutes of intense negotiation. (Both want the lower bed, which Ella tented with spare bed coverings.)  So we'll overlook the grime, which, of course, is invisible to the kids anyway: they think this is the most magical hotel they've ever seen.


And I suppose, when you're on vacation with three little ones, that is all that matters.