Let's Go On An Adventure

I'll never forget the day I found myself looking down at Napoleon Bonaparte's Tomb. I don't want to ruin it for you, but it is not tiny like the legend goes, but it is average... it is however rather Gold and shiny, very fitting for a man of his importance. Now tomb gazing isn't a hobby or anything, but when a tourist in France, one should probably do the touristy things.

I was on a trip with my sister and my mother. A once in a life time thing for us three who back home in Canada were pretty poor. We had saved up and done without to get here and despite it probably sounding hokey, it was something I'll always remember.

The tomb is held in a big building that, at the time, was swarming with other tourists with there cameras. I took some photos outside (because that is the tourists Modus operandi after all isn't it?) and went to meet my sister and mother by the tour bus that was taking us on our journey.

So When I got to the bus I saw that my mother was missing. I knew were she was though. Where she always was when we were at a destination. She was gathering rocks. Yes. Rocks. My mother isn't a Geologist or anything, but on this trip she had decided, with much excitement, that she was going to collect rocks from every place we visited. So at that moment when it was hot and my sister and I were tired and we just wanted to sit, my mom was bent over in front of the massive monument collecting pebbles and rocks (White ones... if anyone wanted to know) and putting them into little baggies.

The next day our group was visiting the Eiffel Tower. We went up, looked at the most beautiful view I'd ever seen in my life, and then came down... and my mom collected more rocks.

So when the trip was over we had many memories, some souvenirs... and bags of rocks. Lots of rocks. So. Many. Rocks.