this is not the cote d'azure in the background--but django and sophia like to strike a pose and pretend they're hiking the rugged trails of the south of france--when we're really in the palos verdes peninsula (can you see catalina island in the distance?).
we love to travel here in dylanland, but it's not always the best or economical thing to fly to 'get away from it all.' so we explore, we hike, we like to play tourist with our little guy.
downtown or tijuana? we visited olvera street downtown, and dylan and dad got to order flautas and dylan got to play street busker singing balladas romanticas. (notice: john is a sucker for cheap souvenirs and is always willing to drop some good dough on touristy tchotchkes. that means our kid gets outfitted in souvenir t-shirts emblazoned with names of places we've been; and instead of real toys, dyl has to play spindly 'guitarras.' the list of souvenirs is endless: caps, magnets, t-shirts, mouse pads, mugs, what have you. could someone please tell john to watch an episode of 'hoarders' couldja? ... sigh...).
c'est pas paris! it's not paris, but that sure looks like a crepe de la france. it's dylan's favorite and he loves to watch the lady with the beret make his weekly crepe. made on an authentic crepe pan (just like on the streets of paris!), the one dylan orders has spinach, tomato, swiss cheese and his favorite topping, mushrooms. 'mushrooms, mushrooms,' chants dylan when the crepe lady--in her breton striped boatneck shirt--spreads the batter, lets the edges brown, flips the crepe over, spreads cheese and goodies, then a little sizzle, sizzle and voila! une crepe--straight outta brittany.
cheaper than a flight to paris. and complete with a real beret-wearing french chef making your crepe. c'est bon!
the crepe lady stand
manhattan beach farmer's market
every tuesday
no number or website, sorry
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