The first 5 hours in Paris

I think I should preface this little bout of narrative by saying that Brooke, Lindsey, and I absolutely adored Paris. While I think we all were equally excited to go there, I particularly was a little wary of it, simply because I had heard various things about smelly streets and snobby Parisians. During our brief romance with City of Light, however, we had a nearly entirely enchanting experience.  

I say "nearly" not because we had any kind of Barcelona-esc trauma, but rather because our first evening excursion in Paris, after a quick flight and a long taxi ride, was so incredibly comical. 

While there is no photographic evidence of the first part of this story time, I can supply one iconic image to pretty much summarize what occurred within our first hour of wandering the airy Summer streets of Paris: 

How (Not) to Build a Gingerbread Bus: A Guide to Failure

It's Christmas time, you're feeling festive, and you stop and think, *gasps* "I should build a gingerbread house!" What says Christmas better than a Gingerbread house? Nothing really. 

Step one, find a building partner. I chose the lovely Miss Jewel; she has the face of one serious Gingerbread-er. 

Step two, come up with a really elaborate design for said house, that really is no longer even going to be a house, but rather a double decker London bus. Because that sounds like a logical plan and not too hard at all. Feel free to draw out an excellent sketch of your dream creation.