Once in a lifetime ...

Eiffel Tower, check. Champs-Élysées, check. Notre Dame, Versailles, Moulin Rouge. Check, check, check.

What an amazing trip this has been. And what an amazing international traveler our not-so-little tax break turned out to be. Of course, I hope I'm not jinxing us. We do still have to get back to the U.S. with our sanity intact.

Yesterday, we braved Paris without our hosts and tour guides (my best friend and her husband). We took the RER into the city and hopped the Metro to the Louvre. It took some creativity to get the stroller out of the Metro station; the exit we ended up at wasn't wide enough, so we had to break it down and squeeze through the gate.

After a wonderful lunch of pasta, scallops, wine, beer, coffee and people-watching, we walked over to the Louvre and were surprised to see the Eiffel Tower again in the distance. We took in the scenery for quite a while, and when we were sure we were done marveling at the magnificent surroundings, we walked over to the museum entrance ... only to discover it's closed on Tuesdays.

So, we decided to check out the Moulin Rouge (one of my favorite movies) instead. We bought some gelato and asked for directions. Two trains later, we emerged to a scene that juxtaposed beautiful French buildings with seedy signs for sex shops. It looked like the right area, but I couldn't see the red windmill. We took a guess and walked down the parkway where it looked like lots of other people were going. Then we saw a street headed up a steep hill packed with tourists. I figured we must be getting close. When we got to the top of the street, instead of the cabaret, we saw a gorgeous church! We had stumbled instead upon the Basilique du Sacré-Cœur at Montmartre. The steep stairs were impossible with a stroller, but then we saw a lift ... and it took our Metro tickets. Voila!

After admiring the view, we rode back downhill, bought a Coke and asked for directions to the Moulin Rouge. First left and second right, he said. That put us back where we came from, just headed the opposite direction. So we bought a postcard and asked again. It turned out we had just gone the wrong direction when we emerged from the subway. I should have guessed when the sex shops faded out that we were getting colder!

We continued down the parkway, and sure enough, there it was. Just like the pictures. But real. By this time, we were tired and Miss M was hungry. So we sat at a bar and fed her.

Did I mention I've become a public nurser? Something about the anonymity of the big city makes me more comfortable nursing in public. I never thought I would be one of "those" women, but when you have no private place to go and your child is hungry, you do what you have to do! I always use a cover -- I finally splurged on one I really like, and I think that helps my comfort level, too. (Before I was using a hand-me-down.)

Armed with my Hooter Hider, I nursed Miss M on the Champs-Élysées, on a bridge overlooking the River Seine in view of Notre Dame, in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower, at the gardens of Versailles, in the Louvre, and outside a bar steps from the Moulin Rouge. Where we saw, she nursed.

Tomorrow we fly back to reality. I'm sad to leave my best friend and sad to end this exhilarating experience, but grateful to have had it.