Paris has flown by. Tomorrow we head home. I will hopefully be able to work on my Paris postings during the return flight and wrap up this trip sometime next week when I am working with a real computer.
The apartment worked out beautifully, although the master bathroom was weird. The design was so awkward. I won’t even try to explain except to say it would bring tears of joy to an American liability attorney. You basically take a cat walk on polished granite tiles to get to the deep, sunken tub/shower. Getting in or out is challenging especially when the wet tiles turn the floor into an ice rink. I think a breathalyzer test should be a requirement before venturing near that tub. Thank God there is a powder room for answering the calls of nature in the middle of the night, because to get to the master toilet, you must use that same cat walk.
Actually, having a big tub in a Paris apartment is uncommon, and I probably wouldn’t have been such a wuz if I hadn’t fallen on my knee on the second day of our trip. When one knee is giving you trouble, you can be guaranteed that some other body part will get jealous and retaliate, like the other knee.
We’ve eaten fresh croissants every morning. Our white-tiled kitchen floor has drifts of flaky croissant crumbs piled in corners and under the table. A broom is in order before we turn in our keys.