Chances are you’ve heard about the “Pokémon Go” craze that’s swept the planet. I don’t actually play the game, being an adult male. But my daughter does. And with its arrival here in France, her vacation has been transformed.
Pity the American teenager forced to spend two weeks in France with her parents. Her brother, who is heading off to college far too early (in my opinion), in early August, opted out of this trip so he could spend a truncated last summer with his friends in Dedham. So she’s on her own. With us.
I try to entertain her. When she asks what the elevator is saying, I say “elevator est flambée,” a bit of broken French that is meant to be funny but is met with a polite chuckle and an eye roll. What can you do? She’s 14.
But now Pokémon Go is here in France, after being delayed almost a week out of respect for the victims of the recent terrorist attack in Nice. She had been playing the game on her iPhone since its release in the U.S., and had spent the week before this trip running around the Pennsylvania countryside looking for Pokémon with her cousins. So the game is afoot. Again. In Paris.
She reports that there are far more Pokémon here in Paris then she ever saw in Dedham or Pennsylvania, and I guess that doesn’t surprise me. But she also has a sudden interest in venturing out into the city, something my wife and I appreciate. We’ve been to Paris many times and have no desire to see tourist sites. Our plan was to walk a lot, just sort of “be” here, and stop in the occasional café. And now, suddenly, our trip has structure. And my daughter is most decidedly on board.
So now she can guide us around the city. She will look for Pokémon. And my wife and I can simply look for the Paris we’ve always wanted. Nice!