Paris, again

Not counting the hour we spent here last week, 'again' means 'after 44 years', for I was here as a 16 year-old in the summer of 1967.

European trains are punctual, and the trip from Liege to Gare du Nord was smooth. We were tired.

Getting from the train station to the hotel, lugging luggage thru the crowded, hot metro cars and stations, was a drain, but thanks to the power of momentum and GPS, we made it, by 9 pm.

By 10, we were refreshed, sitting in a lovely bistro looking onto a VERY bustling boulevard, filled with masses of beautiful, smoking and jabbering people, and eating a perfect late dinner. I had a simple omelette with potatoes and sweet, carmelized onions, and a tall beer. Karen had what she termed 'one of the best burgers ever', which came topped with a lovely fried egg.

We walked thru the twisting, busy streets to the Seine, reaching it just upstream from the Cite. There was the glittering river and above it, as I saw it as a naive kid from Upstate New York (just a bit older now), the soaring, floodlit Notre Dam.

Again.

Very tired, we managed to find the hotel, near the Odeon, and got to sleep, thanks to earplugs and eyeshade. It is now 8 am Saturday morning. We are here until Wednesday morning.

Vacation phase 3 begins, with coffee and some certain-to-be-amazing etceteras.