What else could one want, mixed with young lovers on the streets of Paris? Nothing like the St. Louis Fringe.
Down the street from our apartment. My mystery French cooties may be a bit better but they are not gone. Then the steroid shot in my back - poof! - wore off, leaving me hobbling around. We went to Saint-Chappelel today, . Some nice official saw me leaning on my cane and cut us to the front of the ticket line. Once inside all I could do was sit. I started taking pictures of the other tourists with the LED screen flipped down, thinking of a series called Paris On My Butt. May yet edit those.
Here tomorrow: http://bit.ly/2zpJS3S. Home late Tuesday night.
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