Monday, 1/5/09

Our temporary home in Paris:

The excitement of going to Paris didn’t hit until the Silver Line pulled into Terminal E at Logan airport, and the disembodied voice on the bus announced departures from Air France.  When we arrived at the Charles de Gaulle airport, I peeked outside and stared, bug-eyed with horror, at snow.  Rare as snow is in Paris, the ground was white around us.

The Hôtel Jeanne d’Arc, where we would spend our two weeks, was small and charming, but a bit worn at the edges.  Its elevator didn’t seem to be working the day we first got there, so we dragged our bags up the three to five flights of stairs that stood between us and our rooms, panting and groaning in pain, laughing at our misfortune.  We wandered tentatively around the nearby streets of le Marais, the coldness seeping into our bones.

K.B.

We arrived to lovely Parisian weather...