Did I mention what a fine old time we had in Paris? And the conversations… the conversations surprised me the most. Varied and wide and my French even stood up to discussions on the political situation, and status of women in Iran. Who says the Parisians are snooty and rude, we enjoyed lovely interactions, perhaps it was the old 9 ’em quartier.

It helped that the small male was an absolute refusnik on the sights, fine with me since having grown up in Europe I’ve seen far too much stone and monuments, and we spent our time wandering and up at the counter watching footie. (Not so fine, but the philosophizing round the sport was fun, to say nothing of the cute smirking during “hand ball” discussions. Zero! seemed to be the verdict on the French team from the folks, men, who held forth behind the counters while the ecran blasted out Angleterre, Argentine, Mexico.