getting to Paris
We awoke post 5:00 a.m. on Thursday morning and eventually hit the hay nigh on midnight Friday night. The nine hour time differential notwithstanding, that is a long time between horizontal placement on a bed. That will no doubt be the worst of it.
When we got to the CDG airport we had a shuttle to a major metro station. We had some time to kill, so we plied the sidewalks checking this and that out. Our first digital of Paris ended up being in a squalid mini mart of a demented looking breed of tomato that for some reason struck Susan's photographic fancy. Later we found a small cafe and enjoyed what I'm sure will not be our last expresso. The place had wifi so we were able to get in touch and catch up with email. The cab ride over to our apartment was uneventful since the black guy who just happened to speak perfect French couldn't speak a word of English. To make matters worse, his B.O. was so insidious, we literally had to roll down our rear windows in order to breathe.
We were dog tired so we rested up and in no time had to get ready to meet our witness guide for a personal tour of the Louvre. To get there, we had to embark on a daunting trip on the underground metro system. Piece of cake. With a little common sense and some high school French we did fine. We had a technical glitch the first time we were trying to post this, and there, I had gone into excruciating detail about the shoes our sister was wearing. Susan thought I was nuts to mention it and it feels just too weird to begin detailing the whole thing again. Ask me later about them. What I can say is that the Mona Lisa was less than awe-inspiring but, what the heck, another thing crossed off my bucket list.
We got back quite late, but found ourselves ready for some more action, so we walked and found a great little restaurant to have a late night snack. I had detailed things here before (probably more than I had needed to), so suffice to say we had a great meal and were now ready to go to bed, which we did.
Tomorrow . . . the tower of that guy called Eiffel.
PS The first version was MUCH better--more like the Mark we all know and love! SM