I did take pictures but they just seemed boring because no one was in them. My mother taught me that pictures without people in them are boring. So here are some boring pictures.
But first, a picture with a cat in it. This is Sprout's nightly ritual. She's scarce for most of the day and then, when it's time for bed, she comes and flirts with Sam and purrs like a racecar. She loves him. Who can blame her? He's the one who rescued her and her kittens from the rain. I caught their lovefest on my camera before we left town.
Okay, I'm not kidding about the skinny people eating pastries. It's really quite incredible. They're everywhere. I should get a picture. Maybe tomorrow ...
You know what else I should have taken a picture of? This in-cred-i-ble chocolate crepe with chocolate sauce and chocolate powder and whipped cream and happiness on the side. I'm SURE it was vegan. (You try pretending to be vegan when you can't talk and you walk six hours a day and there are patisseries and creperies every three feet. I think I'm a person that puts things on hold when in foriegn countries.) I remembered this about European desserts: they're darn good. And they're darn good because they don't pour sugar in them. They just aren't anywhere near as sweet as American desserts. What is wrong with us, anyway? That kind of thing in the states would have given me a headache in two seconds flat. When I finished it, and I did finish it, I felt a wee sugary, but mostly just pleased.
Okay. A few pictures.
Here's one at the Luxumborg Gardens of a big gold head.
Here's one of the fountain I mentioned with the sailboats. I had a crush on the kid in the foreground in the hat. He was playing in the dirt and wearing stylish linen pants and I wished to take him home. Both of these pictures at the gardens sort of suck because I didn't want to move to take them. I had intended to read and take lots of pictures, but mostly I just stared slack-jawed. That's what happens when you spend the night on an airplane. Anyway, you can kind of see the sailboats.
The Iron Lady.
I found this group being photographed in front of the tower. I don't have any idea what they are, but I like the big fluffy red plumes coming out of their hats.
One more of ET. I'm so bad at those pictures you take of yourself by holding out your arm and pointed the camera at your head. So I tried to just take one of my hand, to prove I was there. Except it ended up just being two of my fingers. I give you, my fingers. I kind of like how it turned out, actually.
And then, sometime later. Sam arrived, as I said. Trouble was, he wasn't that into talking because he only got an hour of sleep--sort of like how I was yesterday. But we did have a lovely walk up to Notre Dame. Here's a shot of Sam taking a picture of it.
We stopped in just long enough for me to remember how much I like cathedrals because they're so tall and stony. It doesn't matter how many tourists are shoving around in there, there's so much space between the tops of their heads and the ribs of the ceiling that it still feels sacred. We're heading there for mass in the morning, followed by the catacombs.
One more stop: Shakespeare and Co bookstore, which has been around for a couple hundred years and was a hangout for cool ex-pat cats like Hemingway, Pound, Fitzy, Eliot, Stein. It was charming inside, with a little stone wishing well full of pennies and mountains of books. But were too zombie-esque to really look at them.
So then I got grumpy/insecure/weepy, but I don't have a picture of that. And I think mostly I'm still jet-laggy. So it's time for a sleep.