So, we didn’t *mean* to go to Paris.
Perhaps that sounds a little disingenuous after the fact but it turns out Paris is only three hours away from Aix by train, the weekend was coming and we know what they say about guests after three days… and further, we were boosted by the Bowen Island chef de mission…
“After all, when will you be back there again?” quoth he.
Uh, this spring? (I don’t think he heard me.)
Les enfants were over the moon! Voltaire, Camus, and Sartre may be off their reading lists, but they knew a good opportunity when they heard one.
Even the students from the lycee were jealous — nothing like a deadly sin to enhance one’s travel experience.
So this is just a teaser, because the tour guide has got to get to sleep, but let’s just say we got our money’s worth out of our Metro passes.
And, Ballycroy, we missed Pere Lachaise by 15 minutes — going to try before our train leaves tomorrow.
Bonne nuit!
Sigh. Just Sigh,
P L C – if you manage don’t miss Oscar Wild’s tomb. Ditto Abalard and Eloise. Also Edith Piaf.
Mary
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