On June 17, we took the Metro to D1's old 'hood, where she lived the previous Summer while attending the Sorbonne. D1 and D2 shopped in an undergound mall while I watched people walk to and fro on the street.
I started playing a game --I would watch peoples' feet for sneakers. Sure enough, whenever I saw sneakers, they belonged to tourists. I guess the French don't wear sneaks unless they're playing sports.
We then took another Metro to the Jewish Quarter, where we had delicious felafels. We walked around the neighborhood, and then caught a Metro to the hotel. D1 napped while D2 and I headed for the Musee dOrsay.
What a place! We admired the Van Goghs, Degas (es?), Manet, Monet (I kept seeing Harvey Korman's Count De Money in my mind), and Whistler. I didn't know his most famous painting was in Paris.
D2 heard her name called, and she saw a boy from Miami she knew. She now understood what I always teach --how truly the world is small.
D2 and I stopped for some coffee and hot chocolate on the way to the hotel. D1 was angry we didn't bring her any.
We took the bus that evening back to the cinema. The girls went to see "Sex in the City," while I saw "Indiana Jones." To be continued...
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