I first visited Paris in 1978 as a chaperon to 8 high school kids on a "if it's Tuesday it must be Belgium" type of trip. What do I remember about that trip after all these years? One evening I saw a priest peeing in the street and that same night, a couple in an apartment across the street from our 2 star hotel, was making love with the window wide open and with the lights on. The four boys in my group were the ones who saw them first and came running down to my room to make sure I saw what was going on. Trying to get them to stop watching was like trying to keep a male lion away from a female lion in heat. Ah the French, so uninhibited. Over the years, I've had the good fortune to have returned to Paris a number of times. The one I want to tell you about is more of a travelogue story rather than a "oh my God, you won't believe what happened" kind of story. Our daughter had just spent 3 months studying Spanish at the University of Seville
(to say "studying" may be stretching it. I think studying partying was more like it). Since my husband and I hadn't been to Europe in a couple of years, we decided we would meet her in Paris and then she could fly home with us. Well, the best laid plans...We had chosen the weekend of the French Open and there were few hotels available. We had two choices, either the Ritz Carlton at $800 a night or the 2 star Hotel Des Deux Avenues
at $120 a night. Read more...
